by Kali Harper
“Which would be even worse if they were used.”
“Aww, how come you had to ruin my fun? I was pretending they were soft butterflies. Now all I can see are a bunch of snot rags.”
Maggie laughed. “We always were quite the team.”
“We still are. You being a ghost won’t change that.”
Lowering onto the sofa, I took a breath and considered our options. It was then I remembered how Maggie had tossed my room to get my attention.
“Maggie, if I can’t hug you, how did you mess with my things?”
“With my mind, dear. Ghosts can do things with their minds.”
“A ghost with telekinesis. Great.”
“No, no, not like that. It’s more emotional. When I thought of how I might reach you, the room… changed.”
“But why didn’t I see your ghost before?” Her ghost wasn’t around when I left earlier this morning.
“You’re coming into your own,” she said, offering me a tight smile.
“Does that mean everyone can see you?”
“No.”
“Which would make me what? A ghost whisperer?”
“It may also be because of our connection. If you start seeing other ghosts, then yes, though I wouldn’t get too far ahead of myself if I were you.”
I nodded. “I stopped to see Mr. Clark today. He feels terrible about what happened. I also paid a visit to Detective Lance.”
She sighed and batted her eyes. “You have a thing for him now?”
“What? No. Not even close. I… he’s the one working your case, so if I want information—”
“You have to get close to him. I’m really sorry I don’t remember anything.”
“Neither does Sammy. Any chance you tell me what you were doing before you died? Maybe it’ll help.”
Maggie’s gaze grew distant as she looked past whatever had caught her attention in the yard. A small finch fluttered from one bush to another, twittering as it did. Maggie loved birds, possibly as much as the cats, though for a completely different reason. One of the first times I’d sat out on Maggie’s porch, we spent close to an hour watching and listening to them. She identified each one and named them as well.
“Is that Piper?” I asked, unsure of the markings.
Maggie snapped to attention, her eyes meeting mine. “One of Piper’s chicks. They hatched not too long ago. Looks like they’re finally ready to leave the nest.” She got quiet then, and when she finally spoke, her voice was thick. “I was in the kitchen baking.”
“I thought as much.”
“My kitchen,” she corrected me, nodding when the information finally clicked into place. “I never went back to the bakery.”
“So you were here the entire time?” We’d closed up Every Last Crumb together, but I thought she might’ve gone back later at night to test a new recipe, same as always.
“You ever wake up in the middle of the night with a new idea stuck in your head? Writers get it all the time.”
“I’m not a writer, Maggie.” Not unless she counted the grocery list I made every week.
“Well, I had one of those crazy rushes. I could’ve written it down, but I do better if I work with my hands.”
“So you went into the kitchen in the middle of the night to bake?”
“I’ve done it countless times before, but you were never around for it.”
“How did I not hear you?” I was a light sleeper. If she’d been in the kitchen banging pots and pans or running the mixer, I would’ve known.
“Magic, dear. I would’ve been a terrible hostess and friend if I’d gone around making noise. You do like your sleep.”
“What about Sammy?” I patted my lap once he stepped into the living room. “Did you hear her?”
Maggie spoke before Sammy could say anything. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“So what happened next?”
“Nothing. I’d finished rolling out the dough, but that’s the last thing I remember.”
“I guess that explains the flour all over the counter when I got back yesterday. I thought the cats knocked it over again.”
“Cats don’t bake,” Maggie said, offering Sammy a wry grin.
“But what about the dough?” And why in the world were the table and chairs tossed aside?
“Maybe they ate it.” She shrugged, then stood from the sofa to inspect the shrubs she’d mentioned before. “I’m sorry I can’t remember much else. I tend to zone everything else out when I’m working.”
I nodded then, having spent more than enough time with Maggie to know when she was in the zone. You could wave a hand in front of her face, snap your fingers, and get no response at all. Usually this happened at the bakery, but according to her, it happened at home as well.
“I should go visit Lance again.”
“Why’s that, dear?”
“Because everyone’s looking for evidence in the wrong place.”
“Evidence you’ve since cleaned up.”
“It’s still something he should know.”
“Of course, but if you’re planning to leave me again, could you add seed to the feeder? I’d like to watch the birds for a little bit.”
“Sure. Come on, Sammy.”
Chapter Nine
“Where does The Unbridged Book of Focal Enchantments go?”
“Over near A History of Magic,” Kat called from the other side of the shop. “You realize the books can catalog themselves.”
“Then how come they’re piled on the floor?” I put the book away, then grabbed another from the stack. “Jeez, how many copies of Magic 101 do you need?”
“Enough so if I lend two out and the place catches fire, I have some extras stored away. You might laugh now, but there’s actually a lot of good information in there. As for why they’re on the floor, I never said their cataloging system was a good one.” She poked her head around the corner, smiling when she found me crouched in front of a collection of books, reading each of their spines before placing them on the shelf or putting them aside so I could store them somewhere else.
“So, what made you want to do this anyway? Aside from the clutter, I mean.” Kat lowered beside me and separated the pile before setting a new stack between us. “These all go in this aisle. See which ones you get right.”
“It’s busy work,” I told her. “It’s something Mr. Clark said earlier. I can’t help feeling like I should be doing something.”
“About Maggie you mean.”
“Yeah, but I’m kind of at a crossroads now, and if magic works the same way as I usually do, keeping myself busy will give me time to think and process.”
“Makes sense, but why my shop? Why not Maggie’s place?”
“You’ve never been haunted, have you?” I sighed and rolled back on my heels before sitting cross-legged on the floor. “I needed some time for myself, you know? Besides, maybe I’ll find that book you misplaced.”
“I didn’t misplace anything. It was stolen.” She rifled through one of the tomes between, setting it aside moments later. “What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Maggie’s ghost following you around.”
“Exhausting. I’m doing the best I can, but it’s not like I can make the clues magically appear. You don’t happen to know a spell that might give me a glowing path to follow or one that could make items sparkle, do you?”
“Wish I did. Sounds fun.”
“I want things to go back to normal.”
Kat patted my shoulder. “There’s nothing normal about this town.”
“You know what I mean. Magic by itself I can handle, but Maggie’s murder, her possessing the cats, and sitting in her living room is a bit much.”
“Especially because she’s dead.”
I shot her a look. “Can we not make fun of her, please?”
“I didn’t mean anything from it.”
“I know. It’s just too raw. Even if I can see her and talk to her, she’s still
missing.”
“Say no more.” She was quiet for a long moment, smiling as I put away the stack of books she’d handed me. Once I finished, she removed two from the shelves, then said, “Almost.”
Busy work, I reminded myself, getting to my feet before reading over their spines. In the end, it took me three more tries to put them in the right place. “These books are terribly disorganized,” I said once we’d finished, joining Kat for a cup of coffee at the front of the shop.
“I think some of them are having an identity crisis.”
“I’ll say.” Finding A History of Magic in the same pile as Bewitchings, Enchantments, and All Things Magical was a bit of a stretch, even for me. A week ago, I would’ve filed every book in Kat’s shop under fiction, right beside Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings. Three days ago I would’ve done the same exact thing. It’s amazing how much can change in such a short amount of time. Of course, I’d never expected to experience growing pains, especially not the magical variety. “Does Felix still run the hardware store in this dimension?”
“This isn’t a different dimension, Astrid.”
“It’s entirely new to me.”
“If he weren’t working in a hardware store, where would he be?”
“Using it as a front to cover up his magical talents? Maggie did.”
“Maggie incorporated her magic. It’s the same thing Harris does.”
I nodded at that. “And he works on the same charms Maggie did?”
“Yeah, but he’s pretty bad at it. Connie’s the one who predicts the weather.”
“That still sounds like a useless skill, by the way.”
“You’ll be singing a different tune when it comes to planning that wedding you mentioned.”
“Which is never going to happen,” I said. In my mid-thirties, I wasn’t even remotely interested in hooking up let alone making a lifelong commitment.
“In any case, Harris’ lesser ability with charms doesn’t matter since he can’t work right now anyway.”
“He can, but not out of his shop,” I reminded her. “You don’t think their license expiring and what happened with Maggie are related, do you?”
“At this point, anything’s possible. What was it you wanted to get from Felix?”
I stood and dusted my hands off on my jeans before placing my empty mug on Kat’s desk. “Maggie complained about the shrubs. I may as well spruce up the place and see if it helps.”
“Trying to make her feel better with flowers?”
“It’s not like I can give her chocolate.” She would’ve loved it, though. Especially if it was a scoop of Kyle’s triple fudge ice cream.
“Flowers it is.” She hugged me tight, then sent me out into the world to find Maggie a bit of sunshine. Her words, not mine.
As always, Sammy was right there with me, not saying a word as we made our way through town. Whatever day of rest or silence had taken place the day before was long gone. Cars filled the streets, parking meters were full, Carol’s was packed, and I still wanted that burger. Looking at Sammy, I already knew what he was going to say.
“It doesn’t hurt to look,” I told him.
“I didn’t say anything,” he purred, his tail swishing from side to side.
“We’re going to run out of food eventually.”
“So buy more.”
“You can buy food?” I laughed when he pinned his ears back at me.
“You’re hopeless.”
“No, I’m hungry. Believe it or not, there’s a difference. At least I don’t whine when the food in the center of my bowl is gone.” I expected the other cats to cry over a few missing nibbles, but Sammy did it just as much.
“I was trying to fit in.”
“Cat.”
“Witch.”
I didn’t feel like a witch. In fact, I felt out of place. The town hadn’t kicked me out, but I could’ve sworn they were watching me, hoping I screwed up.
“Why are they staring at me?”
“Because that’s what you humans do.”
“I thought cats were the curious ones.”
“Again with the cat comments.” He huffed. “We cats have an inclination to poke our noses into every little thing, but humans are different. They make every action about themselves. For example, they’re watching you because you’re a new witch whose magic could put their own in jeopardy.”
“But I don’t have any powers.” I was beginning to think I never would.
“Not yet you don’t, but they don’t know that. Let them stare and show off their insecurities. It may work in your favor.”
“That’s a terrible thing to do.”
“Perhaps, but until this is all said and done, everyone in town is our enemy, including Kat.”
“Kat would never hu—”
“Not the one you know, but she does have a criminal record.”
“For theft, I know. She told me.”
“Theft may sound small to you, but not when you consider the items she stole. Some of those books in her shop aren’t there because their owners got tired of them.”
I didn’t believe it. Of all the people I knew I could count on, Kat was one of them. “Should I stop meeting her for coffee?”
“No. Keep things as they are. The less you change, the better. Share the same things you’ve been sharing, but keep your ears and eyes open. I’m not telling you not to trust her, just—”
“Don’t trust her?”
“Be careful,” he corrected me, sitting on his haunches once we reached Felix’s Hardware. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”
Outside Felix’s shop, I studied the large metal sculptures he had arranged on the lawn. Their designs were woven together and so intricate, it was a wonder the metal held itself together at all. Some of the sculptures reminded me of Celtic knots while others took on a more spiral design. The two positioned on either side of the front door, however, were identical. Large bronze gryphons sat motionless, their wings open along their backs as they stared at the world around them.
“Those are new,” I said to Sammy who couldn’t be bothered.
“New to you, you mean. Be sure to look at the ones he has out back. You might find something you like for Maggie.”
With his final words of wisdom playing in the back of my mind, I stepped inside. The silver bell on the door jingled above me, the single note putting me on edge. The bell itself wasn’t a problem, but even as I skirted around the front of the store and ducked into the aisle where Felix kept the lumber, I couldn’t help noticing who was shopping a few aisles over. Mr. and Mrs. Morganson were arguing, and it wasn’t about the hoses in front of them or what mulch to buy. Their voices rose above the clamor of other customers, most of whom had already retreated to the register to pay and get out of earshot before the bickering couple could pull them in. It was something they did time and again. Not only did they argue, but if they could drag in some innocent bystanders to take sides, all the better.
A smart person would’ve excused herself and come back another time. At that very moment, all I could think about was their argument. I’m normally not one to eavesdrop, but the longer they went on, the louder their voices became. Reading over the price of lumber and the various buckets of stain Felix had available, I turned my attention to the Morgansons, deciding it would be best to overhear something from one of them instead of confronting them face-to-face.
“Keep your voice down,” Connie hissed, her heels clicking on the hard tile floor as they made their way up the aisle.
“You do this every time,” Harris told her, his voice low.
“Maybe we should wait until we’re outside.”
“Or maybe you should try trusting your own husband.” His voice was heavy, maybe even weary. “I can’t believe you didn’t keep on top of this. They sent us two reminders to renew. Two! How could you let this happen?” Oh, so that’s what the argument was about.
“Maybe if you’d pay more attention—”
“You’
re responsible for the financials. Because of this, we won’t be open for another week, and after all that’s happened with Maggie’s place, I’m not even sure we should.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Deciding I’d have a better sense of the conversation if I could see what they were doing, I edged my way to the end of the aisle and carefully peered around the corner. Connie stood with her back to me, her blonde hair pulled up in a bun. The blouse she wore was wrinkled and barely tucked in, which was very uncharacteristic of her. She was as meticulous as they came, keeping her clothing wrinkle-free and cleanly pressed much of the time.
Harris was busy reading the back of a seed packet, his shoulders slumped as Connie went on about something else.
“Put that down. We don’t need it.” She ripped the pack from his hands and threw it back on the shelf, not bothering to hang it up on its hanger.
“What am I supposed to do? One week to sit on my thumbs and you’d have me do what exactly?”
“Maybe consider why our license expired.”
“Because you forgot to renew it,” Harris said matter-of-factly.
“Did I?”
“Blast it, woman, this is our livelihood. What on God’s green Earth would possess you to do such a thing?”
“I told you to stop, Harris. I asked you to end things with her.”
“For the last time, nothing happened.”
I retreated to my aisle as soon as Harris glanced in my direction. Heart pounding, I took a handful of steadying breaths and considered leaving before anything else could happen. Instead, I went back to the lumber and read over the prices again. I was inspecting a handful of fence posts when Felix joined me.
“Sure is quiet in here today.” Felix’s warm smile reached all the way to his eyes which were barely visible under his dark brown curls. Smoothing back his hair to meet my gaze, he said, “Wonder who they’re talkin’ about.”
I had a pretty good idea but kept my own suspicions to myself. “Did he have an affair?”
“Who knows, though I will say if I were married to that banshee, I’d need a break as well.” He furrowed his brow. “I was sorry to hear about Maggie. How ya holdin’ up?”
“Okay, I guess. Came in here to give myself a project,” I admitted, picking up another white fence post.