Magic & Mini Skirts

by Beverly Sanders

“I’m sorry too.” He smiled sweetly. “Let’s just leave it there. Now . . . what would you like? I can do chicken, steak, pasta . . .”

  “No,” I replied. “You sit. I’ll do it.”

  14

  “So it turned out okay?” Babbs asked.

  “He wasn’t in love with the idea or anything, but he finally chilled out long enough to understand that it was important to me,” I replied. “Though he was next to no help when it came to the whole lycanthrope thing. Apparently, he knows next to nothing about them.”

  “Not knowing anything about them but fearing them because they’re different. That’s never a good thing. At least not out here.”

  We’d decided to take a stroll around second Buckhead before going off on another quest for truth, which honestly seemed to be all we’d done lately. Never mind that we had an entire store’s worth of clothing to get designed and sewn in less than two weeks. But truth be told, I was excited for the opportunity. Just to see my own work filling the walls, to place the clothes in bags and hand them to a girl knowing that she’d wear it out on the town. It was a great feeling in the middle of all this chaos.

  “I was thinking we just continue on with the mirror ball thing you were talking about before,” Babbs said. “Only this time, we get to carry it across the whole store. We can also do custom fittings and things.”

  “I like the idea of that,” I replied. “Maybe we find some really hot guy to work there. One with big blue eyes and jet-black hair. He’ll be the free eye candy. Girls like that.”

  “I don’t know that they’ll want to shop in a store full of guys.” I laughed.

  “Not full . . . just one really hot one. We can bring him in during busy times to swap out light blubs and stuff. That way, he’s there to look at, but they won’t have to talk to him if they don’t want to.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. “We actually have to get the stuff sewn first.”

  “You know what, though?”

  The only possible answer to her question was a firm ‘no’. It was something I’d learned early on in our friendship. Once Babbs prefaced a sentence with something like that, there was no way to tell where her mind was headed. I wasn’t complaining though. I actually loved that about her.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Since they said it, Edward and Abben, I mean. But since they said that wolves are here, I can’t help but see them. They’re everywhere. How did we not notice them before?”

  “I think it’s one of those things you just don’t see until after you know it. Like how you can get a cute pair of sneakers, then suddenly, you realize half the people in Lennox square are wearing the same ones.”

  “I hate that!” Babbs snapped. “That’s why we’re launching a footwear line.”

  “We are?”

  “Why not?” She shrugged. “We’re designer witches. Who’s gonna stop us?”

  “Good point.” I stopped, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the nearby café. “What do you say we get a little pick me up?”

  “Yes! And wouldn’t you just know it, I’ve got a few shot bottles of Kahlua in my purse! We’ll add a little pick me up to our pick me up. You picking me up?” She winked.

  “I am.”

  Why is it that every time I manage to get myself in a halfway fine mood, I run across the one thing capable of ruining it? I felt her presence as soon as she stepped through the door. Babbs and I had already ordered our coffee when our eyes locked. She stopped, though only for a second, then marched right up to me with that sickening smile on her face. The one that let me know she wanted so badly to stay away from me but was too petty to pass up the opportunity to make me angry. Too bad for her, I wasn’t biting today. I had much bigger things on my plate.

  “Hello, Cally,” I said before she had the chance to speak. “How are you?”

  “Fine . . .” she muttered, obviously thrown off her game a little.

  I could read her like a book. The kind where you see the end coming a mile away, the kind you put down having wished you’d have never read it to begin with. She was predictable in every sense of the word. I knew her game. I’d played it twice already, and I didn’t plan on buying another ticket.

  “Great.” I smiled.

  “What about you?” She tapped her cheap shoes against the floor.

  Cheap shoes were among the things I hated most. Especially the ones that tried so hard to pass themselves off as designer. Though that usually had more to do with the person wearing them than the actual shoes themselves.

  “I heard half the city is still looking for that guy of yours. It must be so hard.”

  “It isn’t.” I grinned, taking my coffee from the bar. “I’m actually doing great! Babbs and I were offered an entire store in Buckhead Luxe. We’re just working on a few last-minute items before the big reveal.”

  “You got a space in that new shopping promenade?” She nearly choked on the words.

  “Yes.” Babbs smiled. “We’re off to interview with BrightStitch Magazine now. We’d ask you to come, but I don’t like you.”

  “What she means is—”

  “I mean we hate you,” Babbs reassured her. “The sight of you would make a blind man sick. And honey, that scent . . . is it perfume?”

  “Yes.” Cally tilted her head, her lips pursing with anger.

  “It’s delightful. Just don’t get too close to the flowers in the city gardens. I wouldn’t want them to die immediately.” Babbs gave a huge, almost cartoonish smile then grabbed my hand and headed for the door. “See you later. And just so we’re clear, I was being facetious. You smell awful!”

  We only managed to make it a few blocks before my nerves were once again rattled . . .

  The warm southern air blew my hair, which today, I’d opted to pile high on my head in a messy bun. Everywhere I looked was another witch, another warlock, and now that I could see them, more wolves than I’d ever imagined. It was comforting somehow, to know that I was surrounded by this many magical beings. In a way, it was like I’d never left Enchanted Lake.

  There was just something I loved about the feeling of a small town. And yes, Atlanta might have been a big city metropolis, but Second Buckhead was like my own little world. The streets seemed smaller, the buildings lower, and the grass a little greener. I sipped my iced macchiato, which thanks to Babbs now had quite the kick.

  “Is it not a bit early for this?” I said as the sweet coffee liqueur coated my tongue.

  “Yes,” she replied flatly. “Now drink up before it gets too late. We’re fashion designers. We’re ahead of the curve, babe!”

  I took another sip of the refreshing liquid then came to a stop just before Third Street. I don’t know how, but I knew they were talking about me. A young woman stood near the door of a small bookstore, one I’d only entered a handful of times. She was speaking to a suited man, who, after turning around, I realized was Detective Riley Shannon.

  And wouldn’t you know it, I was right. They were talking about us. The woman pointed across the street, her finger set dead on Babbs and me as we looked back at them. Detective Shannon held his finger in the air, signaling for us to wait there before crossing the street and making his way to us.

  “You’re not easy to find,” he said.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’ve been looking for you. I went by your apartment yesterday. I even hung around Inner Bean for a while, hoping you’d pass by.”

  “Did you need something?” I asked.

  His body tensed up a little bit and he pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket and began flipping through. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for or what it had to do with me. But then it occurred to me, what if it was Nicco? What if he’d managed to find him? What if he was in jail or being held in some isolation room somewhere? I felt my muscles tighten as I readied myself for the news.

  “It’s about the store,” he said. “The one owned by Hannah Alden.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief.


  “What about it?”

  “We’ve come into the knowledge that you now own the store. Is that right?” His forehead wrinkled.

  “I’m leasing it,” I replied. “They offered it to me after Hannah . . . after what happened.”

  “Why do you ask?” Babbs chimed in.

  “It’s just a curious thing. You get a small space in a sought-after place to expand your business and then after visiting the owner, she suddenly dies, thereby granting you the opportunity to have the place all to yourself.”

  “What are you getting at?” I asked.

  “Some might find it a little suspicious, that’s all. It might even look like you somehow had something to do with it.”

  “Are you serious with this crap?” Babbs asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “Dead serious. And then it occurred to me. You didn’t necessarily have to be in the room to commit the crime. Did you?”

  What was he getting at? Had he somehow found out I was a witch? Were there too many of us walking around town? Too much magic in one place? Had someone told him something? The questions ran through my mind in endless circles.

  “And now, with the body missing, there’s no way to get the toxicology report. There’s no way to check for poisonings or other means of a delayed-reaction killing.”

  Okay . . . he didn’t know. I felt a rush of relief.

  “You’re like . . . a really bad detective,” Babbs said, taking a big slurp of her coffee.

  “Excuse me?” Detective Shannon’s eyes widened to the size of hockey pucks.

  “You.” Babbs continued. “You obviously suck the big one. At least when it comes to finding criminals. Did you have to go through some sort of training to be so useless?”

  “You understand you’re speaking to a detective, right?” he asked with a rising agitation in his voice.

  “I understand I’m speaking to someone who thinks they’re a detective,” she deadpanned. “But don’t you have to actually solve something to be a detective? Or is your whole job just like that time I went fishing?”

  “Fishing?”

  “Yeah . . . I spent all day on the lake and didn’t catch a thing! So I wasn’t fishing.”

  “Then what were you doing?” he asked, a mix of utter puzzlement and near-anger on his face.

  “Same thing you’re doing now, I guess. Just waiting to realize I sucked.”

  “Waiting to realize . . .” He slammed the notepad closed and turned to me. “Listen, ladies. I know something about this whole thing doesn’t add up, and I know it’s because of the two of you. Don’t think I won’t get to the bottom of it! Don’t think I won’t catch you.”

  “Same thing I said to the trout.” Babbs shook her head.

  I know we were pretty screwed at that point, but I still couldn’t help but find my best friend’s replies to the detective pretty funny. I struggled to hide my laughter, pretending to cough as I turned away. It was a pretty thin veil though, one I was almost sure Detective Shannon saw right through as he marched off down the street, mumbling something to himself.

  “Babbs,” I said, chuckling. “Don’t do that. You’ll make him angry.”

  “That’s the goal.” She grinned. “People are less effective when they’re angry, and if he gets less effective than he already is, Nicco is home free!”

  “Nicco . . .” I said, having momentarily forgotten about the pile of crap our situation had become. “Where are you?”

  15

  “Maybe they missed something,” I said, stepping through the door of Buckhead Luxe.

  Since Babbs and I had last been there, they’d managed to get a decent amount of work done and the place was really coming together. Large marble columns trimmed in brushed gold and bright silver adorned almost every corner of the place. Fountains of every size were scattered across the floor, nestled beneath ornate skylights. It really was a beautiful place, one I would enjoy coming to everyday. You know . . . providing I didn’t end up behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit.

  “It smells amazing in here.” Babbs took a big whiff of the crisp air.

  “It really does. But what can you expect? These are peppermint and eucalyptus plants. Two of the freshest things in the world.”

  “It’s just so intoxicating.”

  We wandered around for what felt like an hour but in actuality couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. It was interesting to see the other stores as they began to fill with merchandise. A candy company featuring fresh fudge and homemade praline candies sat perched near the middle of the complex. Beside that was a designer sunglasses shop and across from that, a hair and nail salon.

  It was the perfect place for a city girl to get a little shopping under her belt. Which, thanks to the abundance of fresh plants and gorgeous water displays, was sure to be a rather relaxing experience.

  “Come on,” I said, motioning to the large and ornate double staircase in the middle of the building. Beautiful custom wrought iron made up the railings, topped off with a brushed gold handrail and shimmering silver-flecked black stairs. It was eye-catching in so many ways. Not to mention as fancy as anything I’d ever seen.

  “Screaming Magenta!” Babbs chirped.

  “What?”

  “Remember? Screaming Magenta! That’s what we’ll name the store!”

  “You think?” I asked, considering how it would sound in magazines and editorials. I couldn’t help but like it.

  “Yeah, I think it’ll be awesome.”

  “You know,” I said, stepping into the store, “me too.”

  I stepped inside, remembering the last time I’d been here. I looked at the small fountain in the middle of the room. Hannah Alden’s life had ended there, no doubt before she was ready. And at the moment, I had no idea who may have been behind it. In addition to being completely clueless, I’d also managed to make myself a suspect. Oh, yeah, things were going great . . .

  “There should be like . . . magical X-ray glasses or something,” Babbs said, looking around the place. “You know, like how they spray luminol on a crime scene to reveal traces of blood. There should be a way to see traces of magic.”

  “Huh.” I shrugged. “Let’s make one!”

  “What?” she asked excitedly.

  “A spell,” I said, stepping over to the fountain. “Run downstairs and grab some peppermint and some eucalyptus leaves.”

  “I’m on it!” Babbs ran out the door, returning only moments later with a handful of both.

  “Both of these herbs have wonderful cleansing properties,” I said, tearing the leaves apart and tossing them into the fountain. “If we can just—” The sound of footsteps ascending the large stairs echoed throughout the large building. I wasn’t sure who it was, but the last thing I needed was for someone to see me casting a spell, especially here.

  “Quick!” I whispered. “Hide!”

  “I grabbed Babbs by the hand and scurried out the door, ducking behind a large metal bench.

  “Is that . . . ?” Babbs asked as the woman came into view.

  I recognized her immediately. The bright purple streak of hair near the crown of her head caught a ray of light from the large skylight as she turned the corner and entered the store. It was the woman from the pictures. The one seen taking Hannah Alden’s body from the morgue. But who was she and what was she doing here?

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “She’s the one who took the body. The one who was wearing your skirt.”

  We watched as she riffled through the store, opening boxes and looking under boards. Then she spotted it, the symbol, the one we’d spent so long chasing down only for it to lead nowhere. Sure, I knew what the thing meant now, but it hadn’t gotten me any closer to proving Nicco’s innocence.

  I watched as she studied it, her fingertips tracing every inch of the intricate carving. She dipped her fingers in the water, which now contained pieces of torn leaves, though she didn’t seem to notice. And then she did something unexpected. She began casting.
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br />   “She’s a witch!” Babbs gasped.

  “Looks like it,” I replied. “What do you think she’s doing?”

  “I don’t know . . . maybe we should try to get closer.”

  We crept along the floor, doing our best to stay quiet and hidden until finally reaching the store next to her. I stepped inside, followed closely by Babbs. The store was filled with dishes, rugs, and pillows, everything you need to furnish an Atlanta area apartment. I pressed my ear against the wall, listening intently as I tried my best to decipher her spell.

  “What is she saying?” Babbs asked.

  “I think it’s a memory spell.” I pressed my ear harder to the wall. I was right. Whoever she was, she was trying to turn back time in a way. To undo what had been done here. But there was a danger there. Time altering spells are among the trickiest and most dangerous magics a witch can call upon. They’d been forbidden long before even my parents were born after too many witches had lost their lives using them incorrectly.

  “We have to stop her,” I whispered. “She’s going to hurt someone.”

  “No!” Babbs grabbed my arm. “What if she’s dangerous? Can’t you feel it? She’s already begun. If we try to stop her now—”

  “This magic is forbidden. And for good reason. What if she can’t control it? What if—” My arm slipped, sending a stack of dishes crashing to the floor. In an instant, her words stopped, replaced by the sound of footsteps growing ever closer.

  I’d seen it happen once before. The terror of interrupting a witch during such a powerful spell. It was like waking a sleepwalker. She would be disoriented and dangerous, not to mention powerful.

  “We need to get out of—” A loud thud rang out from behind me as a hand wrapped itself around both mine and Babbs’s mouths.

  I felt him pull me in closer, my body pressed tightly against his as he lifted us in the air and headed for the window. I thrashed and struggled, trying my hardest to fight my way free, but it was no use. He was too strong. I lifted my hands, calling my magic, but I was too late.