by Amy Boyles
“Yeah, well, Roman is totally busy and stuff.”
“I guess you’re keeping him that way.”
She smirked. “Trying to. So far that man stays occupied.” It was more of a grumble than a brag.
Fist pump for me! She hadn’t managed to corrupt him yet. Not that it mattered. “Tell your boss to come to my store. I’ll see him there.”
“Okay, great. I’ll tell him.”
An hour later I was waiting for my first customer at Perfect Fit when in walked Smiley with Dewy trailing him.
This time he wasn’t chewing on a cigar. Instead he was flipping a nickel between his fingers.
“Good to see you, Dylan. Good to see you. So this is your place, huh? Where you earn your keep?”
“That’s right. I have a small line of men’s clothing if you’d like to try on a shirt.”
He glanced around the store. That nickel worked its way down his knuckles and back up. “Yeah, I’ll take a new shirt. You can put one in the mail for me. Dewy’ll give you the address.”
I guess it would be complimentary since he didn’t offer his credit card? “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” I paused, waited for him to tell me what was going on. I looked from him to Dewy. “Couldn’t find Roman?”
“He’s busy, Dylan. Busy man out there trying to find criminals, which is what I hear you’ve been doing.”
“You mean the other night.”
“You did us a real favor. A huge one by finding Norwood’s secret house. I owe you for that. Big deal. Huge deal.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I understand you and your sisters were there for an hour before my people arrived,” he said.
“That’s right.”
He stroked his thumb down his swelling stomach. “Funny thing, really. I was wondering if while you were there alone, you happened to see or find anything different.”
I quirked a brow. “Different?”
“Interesting. You know. Out of the ordinary.” His eyes rolled around my store. “Like the stuff you have in here.” He crossed over to a dress and pawed at the material. “Different. Unique.”
Did they know something or were they just guessing? I tapped a finger to my cheek. “Let me think about that.”
“Yeah, think about it.”
I shook my head. “Nothing comes to mind. I didn’t see anything interesting.”
“Dewy tells me a lamp was broken in the attack.”
“Sure was.”
“Some might say that’s interesting,” he said.
Dewy glanced up from the row of dresses she was picking through. “Mmm hmm. Yeah. That was different.”
What were these two? The bobbing-head twins? “The lamp got broken. That’s was the only interesting thing that happened.”
Knuckling Nickel Smiley Martin flashed Dewy a look. “If you say there wasn’t anything interesting, then there wasn’t. Sorry to bother you.”
I nodded. “It’s no bother. You can stop by anytime.”
They left. Good riddance. I palmed my pocket, remembering the marble I’d stuck in my jeans. How could I have forgotten about it? Oh, that’s right. I’d been wallowing in a little bit of sorrow over my fight with Roman. I was just lucky my diet hadn’t consisted of nothing but hot fudge sundaes for every meal.
My fingers slid over smooth fabric. Crap. Where had I left those jeans? I racked my brain. I’d thrown them in the hamper, where they’d sat the past couple of days.
But today was laundry day. Today Nan would empty all the hampers and wash everything.
Would that be bad? I mean, it was only a marble. Surely you couldn’t destroy it. But what if you could? What if the thing was magic and submerging it in detergent hurt it some way?
An uneasy feeling crawled over my stomach. I chewed my fingernails. Deciding action was better than no action, I picked up the phone.
“Hello,” Milly said.
“Hey, Milly.”
“What’s going on, toots?”
“Nothing other than I just got a creepy visit from some high-up guy in the witch police.”
“Oh? What’d he want? Your soul?”
“Ha-ha. No. At least I don’t think so.” I considered that possibility. “Actually, he might have and I just didn’t realize it.”
“Watch those bureaucrats. They’re always no good.”
I drummed my fingers on the desk. “Thanks for the advice. Listen, that’s not why I’m calling. I found something at Edgar Norwood’s house.”
“What?”
“It looks like a marble and was hidden inside a box that was inside a lamp. I think Nan might wash it today. Would that be bad?”
“Depends on what it is. If the magic inside is sensitive, all that abrasive soap could rub it right off. Or the water could clog the thing’s brain. Does she have to wash it?”
“No, she’d be doing it by accident.”
“Dylan, that marble might be the key to figuring out who killed him and who’s after you. Get it back.”
“Okay, thanks.” I hung up and called the house. No answer. My grandmother had a bad habit of ignoring the phone, and during the day Nan often wore her headphones so she could tune the world out. It wasn’t even classical music. She listened to head-banging kind to stuff. So Nan could be ready to fight at any time, she said.
Yes, I live with a bunch of wackos. I looked at my watch. The store would open in five minutes. I grabbed my bag and rushed over to Sera’s.
“Hey, can Reid watch the store until I get back?”
Sera bagged a chocolate chip muffin and rang up Mrs. Allen, a nice older lady with a huge sweet tooth.
“Hey, Dylan,” she said sweetly. “I see you’re getting a little competition across the street.”
“Yes, ma’am. Looks like it. But I’ll still have clothes that you like to buy.”
“You got in any more of those candles I like?”
“No, ma’am. Christmas wiped me out. Should be getting another shipment in the next two weeks.”
Mrs. Allen stared at me with beady eyes. “I hope so, because I hate to have to find another place to shop.”
“Me too.” Sheesh. What is wrong with people? They were just some freakin’ candles. I’d have them in soon.
She left, so I repeated my request since my sister hadn’t responded. “Sera, can Reid watch the shop for a few minutes? I have to run home.”
“That’s fine. What’s up?”
“I’m afraid Nan’s going to wash all the magic out of that marble.”
Her face paled. “The one from the other night?”
“Yeah.”
“You haven’t done anything about it?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve been depressed, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
She shooed me toward the door and yelled back, “Reid! Get over to Dylan’s and watch it for a few minutes.”
I waved. “Thanks.”
I headed for the door.
“Oh no!” Reid yelled.
I glanced at Sera, who shot me a confused look.
“Reid,” she said hesitantly.
“My pants!”
We both headed for the back. Reid stood in the kitchen, her rear end sparking.
“Oh no,” Sera said.
I grabbed a pitcher, dunked it in dishwater and threw it on my baby sister. The spark sizzled out.
“Reid, did you have that stupid phone in your pocket?”
She frowned. “I might have.”
“I thought you were going to stop carrying it there,” Sera said.
Reid yanked it from her jeans. “But I need it close by.”
“You also don’t need any skin grafts,” I growled.
She rolled her eyes and press the HOME button. “It won’t come on.”
“That’s because I fried its brain. You’re just lucky you weren’t fried before it was.”
Her lower lip trembled. “But my phone.”
I grabbed Reid by the arm and pulled her from the kitchen. “Jee
z. We’ll go get you a new one, okay?”
Her eyes twinkled at that. “Promise?”
“Promise. Now go watch my store. I’ll be back.”
My heart pounded as I headed for the car. I dialed home again. Still no answer. What was going on? If the phone rang enough, wouldn’t my grandmother get annoyed and pick up? And how long could Nan listen to rap and heavy metal? That stuff gave me a headache after five minutes.
“Hey, Dylan, you been inside Dewy’s store yet?”
Jenny Butts was walking down Main, heading straight for me.
“Yes, I have.”
“It is so cool. That place has some lingerie that I think you couldn’t even pass up buying.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Now, what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“Means you might thaw out a little bit.”
I shook my head. “Well, at least one of us doesn’t need any defrosting. We both know you have a date with a different guy every week. Be careful, Jenny. You might run out of lingerie at that rate. Slow down.”
Her jaw dropped. “Why, Dylan Apel, that’s the rudest thing—”
“Pretty sure it’s no ruder than what you say about my girlie parts every other week.”
Jenny cocked her head. “You know, you're probably right.”
I opened my car door. “Wouldn’t that be a first.”
I fired up the engine and rolled down Main. I’d gotten as far as First Baptist Church when a flock of Canadian geese decided to cross the road. For Pete’s sake, weren’t they supposed to be farther south at this point? I tapped the steering wheel impatiently as they waddled to the other side, heading from one pond to another. I edged the car forward, hoping to speed them up, but it had no effect.
When the last one slipped past my bumper, I hauled rear end down the street. Flashing lights in my rearview caught my attention. Where had the cop come from? I groaned as I threaded onto the shoulder.
Officer I’ve-got-nothing-better-to-do Howie strolled up to my window. “Hey, Steve,” I said.
“Hey, Dylan,” he said, tipping his hat. “You all right?”
“Yep, sure am. Just trying to get home.”
He whistled through the gap in his front teeth. “You sure are. Doing fifty in a thirty.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that, but Grandma isn’t answering the phone. She always answers. I’m worried that she might’ve had a stroke or something.”
Steve’s brown eyes widened. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “At her last doctor’s visit he said she was at risk. Ever since, I’ve been really worried about her. She usually answers the phone, but she didn’t.”
“Gosh. You think she’s had a stroke?”
I gnawed the inside of my cheek. “I think it’s possible.”
It was possible, though not likely. But in all honesty, I didn’t need a ticket right now. Let’s face it—I didn’t need a ticket ever.
Steve stepped back. “You need an escort?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m okay. I just have to get home.”
He wagged a finger at me. “Go on. But take it easy down Main. I don’t need anybody getting run over.”
“Sorry. I’ll go slower.”
I rolled off and took a right on Spring. I kept my eyes open, waiting for something else to stop me in my tracks. I mean sheesh, how was I ever supposed to get home with all these interruptions?
I slid into a space next to the curb and killed the engine. When I entered the house, I found Grandma sitting on the couch watching As the World Turns or some other soap opera.
She shot up and quickly flipped off the television. “Dylan, is everything okay?”
“Where’s Nan?”
Grandma shrugged. “She’s around and about. I’m not her keeper, Dylan. I don’t have a radio collar on her so I can track her every movements. But that does remind me of the time we were tracking a unicorn killer. I knew the only way to stop him was for me to go undercover as one of them.”
I really needed to find Nan, but this was too good to pass up. “So you dressed up as a unicorn?”
Grandma adjusted the scarf wound around her neck. “Of course. What else was I going to do?”
“Got me there.”
“So I dressed up like a unicorn. I had a tracking collar clamped to my leg so in case I was stolen by the witch, the other police would be able to find me.”
“And? Did you get stolen?”
“No.”
“Shocker.”
I left for the laundry room. “Nan! Nan!”
No answer. I pushed open the door and sighed. There she stood, headphones on and music blaring.
“Nan,” I said.
She switched the music off. “Yes?” she screamed.
“Have you washed my clothes?”
“Yep! They’re all done. I fought a nasty ketchup stain on your sweatpants, but I won. I always do.”
My gaze shifted to the laundry basket. Sitting on top were the jeans I was looking for. My hopes sank. “You washed my jeans?”
“Fresh and clean,” she said, handing them to me.
I felt the pockets. They were empty. “Did you see a box in them?”
She nodded. “Sure did.”
I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Where is it?”
“On your dresser.”
I kissed her cheek and ran to my room. The box was exactly where she said. I opened it. The marble sat intact. I fished my phone from my purse and dialed Milly.
“I’ve got the marble.”
“Get over here. Let’s see what it is.”
FIFTEEN
I grabbed Grandma and drove over to Milly’s. She greeted us with her usual cheery composition.
“My bursitis is acting up again. We need to make this snappy.”
“Well hello to you too,” I said, stepping inside.
“It makes me grumpy when it flares,” she explained.
I smacked my lips. “And that’s different how?”
“Watch it, toots,” she said.
Grandma and I entered the living room. Polly Parrot screeched from his gilded cage while the boa constrictor flashed its tongue from the aquarium sitting beside it.
“Looks like you’re still traumatizing Polly. I’m pretty sure PETA would have a field day with this.”
Milly grazed her finger over Polly’s head. “Shows how much you know. These two are becoming friends.”
I quirked a brow. “They are?”
“Teddy tried to eat Polly. Once he realized his prey was a wooden bird, he laid off.”
“Teddy, huh? Snuggly as a bear?”
Milly grunted.
“Anyway, smart snake,” I said. “Listen, I’ve got to get back to the shop. Here’s the marble.”
I handed the smooth stone to her. Grandma peered over Milly’s shoulder.
“Looks like a balding stone,” Grandma said.
“I’d have to agree,” Milly said.
“What’s a balding stone?”
Grandma clapped her hands with something akin to glee, which I didn’t understand a bit of. “It’s a stone used to hold certain types of information. Could be memories, could be ideas a person’s had.” She slid a finger lined with age over the surface. “They used to be very popular up until a few years ago. Now everyone stores information in the cloud.”
I smirked. “You mean like the Internet cloud?”
Grandma shook her head. “No. An actual cloud. There’s a pink one made of magic that has limitless storage for data. Magical data. It sits to the North of us.”
“Of course it does.” Because everything in the witching world always made a thousand pounds of sense. “So what about this balding stone?”
Milly palmed it. “To use it, you need the balding device.”
I sank back onto the couch. “What’s that?”
“It’s a cushion that the stone sits in. It’s a magical construct. The designer of the cushion stopped selling them years ago when they went out of fashi
on.”
I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling. “So can we get one?”
“I’m not sure,” Milly said.
“Why’s that?”
“The designer’s dead.”
Well that would explain it. “Maybe there’s still some around. Who would know?”
Milly and Grandma exchanged glances.
“What?” I said. “What am I missing?”
Grandma tilted her head back and forth. “His daughter is still alive.”
“That’s good. She might be able to help us. Who is it?”
Milly grinned. “Queen Em.”
My hopes crashed and burned on the tarmac. “Seriously? Does he have another daughter? One I might get along with?”
It wasn’t that I didn’t like Esmerelda Pommelton. It was more we didn’t see eye to eye on things. I exhaled. “Okay. It looks like I need to track Em down. Anyone know where to find her?”
Grandma stared at me as if I’d grown five heads. “At Castle Witch. Where else?”
Right. I was hoping the answer was going to be somewhere else, but it looked like I was wrong. “Okay. Y’all coming with me?”
Milly and Grandma both shook their heads. “You’ll go this one alone, toots. I’ll transport you there.”
“Good,” I said. “So I won’t have to hear about missing hands and feet from Grandma. She always says that whenever she sends me anywhere.”
Milly laughed. “I’ll make sure to get your head and feet where we’re going. It’s your body I’m worried about.”
I gulped down a knot in my throat. “Don’t you both want to see what the marble tells us?”
“Yeah. Bring the device back here.”
“Okay, will do. Now send me to the castle.”
Milly grinned, raised her hand and snapped her fingers. In a flash of light, she and my grandmother vanished.
***
Milly had planted me right in front of the main doors leading into the castle. I took a deep breath and walked inside. I found a servant and told him I needed to see Em. I waited in the solar until she arrived.
The room was circular with sky-high windows. Light sliced through glass, practically making the room sparkle.
“Dylan Apel, the trouble meter inside my head didn’t go off when you arrived. You must be toein’ a straight line today.”