by Tegan Maher
"Frozen foods," James said, flicking on his blinker to turn right onto a near-hidden brick driveway.
"Wait," I said, craning forward to get a look at the house just to make sure I was right. "This is The Emerson House. Do you mean to tell me Carl Emerson is from those Emersons? The ice cream people?"
Though most people would never guess it, I lived in this neighborhood, too, so I knew most of the houses, though not many of the people who lived in them. My family was richer than Midas, but we were a different kind of old money. Ours came from generations of witches and wizards trading in rare magical artifacts. To supplement our income and give us a front to run a business in the human world, we also sold non-magical antiques, but that's not where we made the big bucks.
James nodded as he slowed to traverse the narrow lane that curved around in front of the brick Tudor manor house. It formed a circle around a gorgeous mermaid fountain. "Yeah, his grandfather made it big with the ice cream and his dad continued that, but that's not the direction Carl went with the business. They do have that fortune still coming in, but Carl expanded it into diet-specific frozen meals like Keto and Paleo, made them available by subscription only, and has tripled their fortune."
I raised my brows, surprised, as he braked to a stop in front of the A-framed entryway. What Carl had done with the family company was impressive. He'd taken what he'd been given and rather than just coast on his family money, he'd built on the empire in a way that was forward-thinking and profitable.
"So what do we think? How long will this take?" James didn't understand the nuances of magic, so he thought we could just go in, deal with it, and leave. I wished it were that easy.
I cast him a sideways glance. "You realize we're just here to get the deets, right? We don't even know for a fact yet that one of the artifacts is involved. He could have just gone fruit loops and fallen into that fountain while he was in some sort of mental haze or something. This is a fact-finding mission. Anything we learn above and beyond that is gravy, so if you think we're going to come out with a resolution, you're gonna be disappointed."
He hadn't been around for the end of either of our first two cases and had no clue about magic, so it didn't surprise me that he expected us to walk in, grab the artifact, and call it a day. I suppose that was a possibility, but it wasn't likely.
"Wait a second," I said, glancing at my crew. "Eli and I can't go in there like this. We're gross. I'm sure they expect their servants to dress better than we are."
Though James and Luther both looked presentable, Eli was wearing pink board shorts and a faded tank top with a leering pirate that had the text Show me your booty wrapped around it. I wasn't much better in my Metallica tank top and cutoffs. In short, we both looked—and probably smelled—like we'd been on a boat all day.
I glanced at James. "Don't freak out, but this has a quick fix."
I didn't have time to explain, so I just went ahead and whispered the glamour spell that made me look like I was clean, made-up, and dressed in designer linen shorts and a silk blouse. A little pop of energy from the back told me Eli'd done the same thing. His chestnut hair was neatly pulled back, and he was wearing a neat pair of dress slacks and a green short-sleeved button-down.
James sucked in a breath but managed to stay composed other than that. "How did you do that? You can just magic yourself showered and clean? Holy crap. Then what used to take you so long to get ready when we were dating?"
I curved one corner of my mouth up. "It's called a glamour—it's an illusion, Underneath it all, I'm still unshowered and dressed like a beach rat."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "How often did you do that while we were dating? You know, like all those times I thought you put a lot of effort into getting ready, and I told you how beautiful you looked?"
Leave it to him to take it personally. Before I could say anything, Luther spoke up from the back. "What does it matter? She looked beautiful before she glamoured herself. I would be proud to take her anywhere just as she was."
Though that was probably a bit of an overstatement, I appreciated the effort.
Shaking my head, I shoved the door open. "I don't have time for a stupid conversation about whether or not I cared enough to take the time to clean up for you. It's just silly."
I hopped onto the brick, then waited while Eli, Luther, and Jame joined me.
Eli put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "How do we want to play this?"
"I'll introduce you as consultants," James replied, facing the house. "Ask whatever questions you need to, but try to keep them logical to somebody who doesn't know anything about magic."
Eli summed up what I was thinking and rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. Believe it or not, this isn't the first time we've dealt with non-magical people in magical situations."
James scowled at him. "Yeah, remember I'm one of those people, and your methods left a bit to be desired. I'd prefer to let this woman live her life without knowing about any of this."
When Eli opened his mouth to respond, I was surprised when Luther laid his hand on his arm and shook his head, disgust scrawled across his face as he cut a sideways glance at James. "Let it go. It's not worth it." Ah, there was the jab I'd been expecting.
I took a deep breath and started toward the house. "Let's do this."
We stepped through a vine-covered portico toward the massive double front doors, and James rang the doorbell instead of dropping the heavy gnome door knocker. Rather than a butler, a forty-something blonde woman with dark circles under her eyes answered the door several minutes later, right as James was reaching for the doorbell again. I could tell she'd been crying, and I applauded her effort when she attempted a watery smile.
James inclined his head. "Mrs. Emerson, I hate to bother you, but these are my consultants, and we have some questions about your husband's behavior in the days before his death."
She stepped back and motioned for us to come in. "Of course. It's good of you to come, and please, call me Carmen. I'm sorry to make you wait, but I gave the staff the day off. I just couldn't deal with them hovering and needed some time alone."
The entryway was about what I'd expected. A teardrop chandelier shed warm light over the polished wood floors and shone off the tongue-and-groove paneling. A few tasteful landscapes graced the walls, and two Victorian-era entry tables on either side of the room showcased a few small but spendy statues and other pieces of art. Twin curved staircases on either side of the foyer mirrored each other, leading up to a second-floor landing.
There were a ton of antiques, so even though my arm band—a payment from a witch I'd worked for—wasn't sending off any warnings, that didn't mean there wasn't any there. Since its sole job was to detect magic that was going to harm me, I couldn't depend on just it to tell me whether or not magic was present, so I used my own internal detector. I didn't find so much as a drop in any of the rooms that she guided us through.
We followed Carmen into a sitting room decorated in simple colors that complemented each other. Mauve throw pillows added pops of color to a gray chenille furniture set sitting in front of a faux-fire that crackled in the fake fireplace. A near-empty bottle of red wine sat beside a half-full stemless glass on the marble top of the Victorian end table. With the couple of days she'd had, I couldn't blame her for drowning her sorrows.
Carmen waved to the sofa. "Please, have a seat. Would you care for anything to drink? Jacinta is off like I said, but I think I can manage to fetch a bottle of water or soda." Her lips curled into a wry smile. "Or more wine glasses. It seems I need a fresh bottle, anyway."
"No thank you," I said, taking a seat on one and of the couch. "We just have a few questions we'd like to ask you so that we can help figure out what happened to your husband."
My heart went out to her. It was bad enough she'd lost her husband, but she had no way to come to terms with the circumstances surrounding his death. The sad part was that even when we were finished, she still wouldn't get a truthful explan
ation to help her move on.
The weight of that settled on my shoulders, and Eli, who'd taken the spot next to me on the sofa, nudged me with his shoulder. He shook his head when I looked at him, and I knew he'd figured out what I was thinking. It was nice that he knew what was going through my mind, but that didn't make me feel any less guilty.
Carmen tilted her head, examining us, and her gaze settled on me. "Before we move forward, may I ask who you are? You don't look like police."
Eli flapped a hand and introduced us. "Definitely not police. We're behavior specialists, and we assist in cases such as your husband's. It's more common than you might think, especially with people who are in high-stress jobs. Was your husband on any medications?"
Leave it to him to come up with something that could explain the entire episode. He was hands down better at thinking on his feet than I was, and I was grateful he was there.
She reached for her wine glass. "He was. A few, actually, He was on a couple anti-anxiety meds and a sleeping med, though he only took it as-needed." She rattled off the names, and I jotted them down on my note app.
I picked up on the direction Eli was headed."And did he drink?"
Carmen's lips curved into a small smile as she swirled the wine in her glass. "Like a fish, I'm afraid, though I suppose I'm not one to talk."
"No judgment," Luther said. "We all enjoy a cocktail or two after a rough day. Had he been drinking more than usual lately."
She furrowed her forehead in thought. "I suppose he had. He was in the middle of rolling out a new gluten-free line, and there were a lot more hoops to jump through than he'd anticipated. It stressed him out. He started smoking again, too."
"Ah, so nicotine in addition to the alcohol and meds." I nodded as if that added up to something.
Her face pinked. "Well, maybe not just cigarettes."
James's lips turned down in a frown—surprise, surprise—but Luther held up a hand and added a gentle smile to it. "Again, no judgment. It's a perfectly acceptable treatment for anxiety, but maybe he should have talked to a professional about using it with his other meds."
"Maybe so." She nodded and bit her lip. "Do you think that's what caused the weird behavior?"
I lifted a shoulder. "It's hard to tell. Why don't you tell us about the last couple of days? That's when things changed, correct?"
She nodded. "It started the day before yesterday. He complained that he'd lost his watch—the one his grandfather had given to him when he handed over the reins for the company. Carl's parents died in a car wreck when he was young, so his grandparents raised him. That watch was one of his most prized possessions."
"That's a shame. It must have been devastating to him." Eli's eyes softened in commiseration.
She sighed. "That's just it, though. When I went to get dressed a bit after he'd left for work, the watch was on his nightstand, exactly where he puts it every night. I called to tell him I'd found it, and he swore he'd looked there."
"We all do that sometimes," James said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
"Yeah, we do, but I went out of my way to leave it there when I left for work—I'm an accountant. He came home on his lunch break and called me to ask where I'd put it, and when I told him it was on his nightstand, he argued with me." Carmen sighed. "He swore he couldn't see it."
"And then there was you. When did that start?" I dropped my hands into my lap, trying to appear relaxed because she sure wasn't. The more she talked, the more she resisted the urge to fidget.
She wiggled a little, adjusting her position, then took a gulp of her wine."Yesterday, but that wasn't the only strange thing he did. As usual, he was up and gone before I even got up. He called at seven-thirty all panicky. He said his office building was gone."
I almost choked on my own spit. "Gone?"
Carmen nodded, then tossed back the rest of her wine and upended the remainder of the bottle into her glass. Her eyes were starting to look glassy, so I figured it was best to hurry this along while she was still sober enough to give us straight answers.
"He built that building from the ground up. Designed it himself, with the help of an architect, of course. It was his pride and joy because he saw it as a sign that he'd taken the business that his grandfather built to the next level. I told him to go to the coffee shop next door and wait for me. I didn't think he needed to be in his car. When I got there, it was like he couldn't see me." Her eyes teared up, and it was all I could do not to go to her and put my hand over hers.
James's face creased with pity. "And that's when he went to the police station?"
She swiped at the tears. "Yes. We were at the coffee shop for probably ten minutes. I was talking to him, but he kept calling my phone. When I'd answer, he couldn't hear me or something. He paid for his coffee and went straight to the station."
I was starting to see a pattern, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions. "And how did the fountain play into it? Or did it?"
"He built me that fountain for our twentieth anniversary. We met at the beach, and he said I was like a beautiful mermaid who'd brought magic into his life." Her eyes swam with tears and her chin quivered. She sniffed before she continued.
"When he got home—I rode with him rather than leave him by himself—he started ranting about the fountain being gone. He rushed to it but didn't slow down. He ran straight into it, and when his legs hit the edge, he fell forward, cracked his head, and fell in. It took me a full minute to drag him out because his sleeve caught on a piece of plumbing. By the time I got it loose, he was unresponsive, and his head was bleeding badly. I called 911, but by the time they got here, he was gone."
Carmen was shaking and crying openly, and all my instincts and my sense of decency were driving me to leave her so she could mourn. I couldn't yet, though. The more I heard, the more I was convinced he was under some sort of curse.
James pulled in a deep breath and released it. "We hate to keep imposing, Mrs. Emerson, but I have to ask, were you and your husband having any problems?"
She pressed her lips together, and at first, I thought she was going to deny it. Instead, she gave us the smallest of nods. "I don't know if problems is the right word, but he's been putting in sixty and eighty hours a week for the last year. His whole life centered around his work, and it was taking its toll. He kept saying that once he got the new line up and running that he'd be able to cut back, but I can't even tell you the last time we ate a meal together."
She glanced at me, her expression pleading. "Please don't think he was a bad husband, though. He wasn't, or at least not until recently. Our entire marriage, he was devoted to me. We weren't able to have kids, so he turned all that love on me. He was the love of my life."
Luther sighed beside me. "Just one more question, ma'am, and then we'll leave you to grieve. Did you or your husband recently purchase anything at an auction, or did you buy any new antiques?"
She shook her head. "No, we haven't had time to even have lunch, let alone go antiquing like we used to."
Well, damn. So much for an easy way out. "What about gifts? Any new acquisitions at all?"
She turned her hands up in a helpless gesture. "No, nothing. Like I said, we haven't had much of a social life, so there hasn't been any sort of gift-giving events."
I sighed, trying to keep my disappointment from her. "Okay, then. We'll get out of your hair now."
Luther fished a business card out of his wallet, and I craned my neck to see what was on it. Professional Pain in the Patooty, maybe? Or Guru of Grumpiness? I couldn't imagine what his claim to fame would be.
He raised a brow at me and intentionally handed it to Carmen in a way that prevented me from reading it. That brought about a few more alliterations in my head that weren't fit for polite company.
"If you think of anything else, that's my cell," he said. "Please, call day or night."
She nodded, then looked at each of us in turn. "I have to admit, I'm not sure why you're giving this so much atten
tion, but I'm glad you are. I want to know what happened to my husband."
"So do we, ma'am," I told her as I stood from the couch. "So do we."
When we left, she was curled up in her chair with her feet tucked under her, gazing into the fire and sipping her wine. I swore to myself then and there that though I couldn't bring her husband back, I could—and would—give her some kind of closure. It was the least I could do.
Chapter Five
Once we were back in the car, I sighed and released my glamour. "Well, that was a bust."
Eli buckled his seatbelt as his fancy clothes sizzled back into his board shorts and grubby tank top. "Maybe not. I'm almost certain we're dealing with a curse. Now we just have to figure out where he came into contact with it."
"That shouldn't be too hard," Luther said. "From what she said, it almost had to have happened at work. We need to go check that out."
I shook my head as we circled the fountain. "No, before we do that, I want to go to the house and check the book. This has something to do with greed or something, and if we can narrow it down to even a handful of objects, we'll better know what to look for."
James glanced over at me as he navigated the driveway. "That means you're going to have to wait until Monday. His partner's gone, and I don't want to ask Carmen to leave the house."
Eli huffed a breath out his nose. "Carmen's in no shape to go anywhere. Give her another hour, and she's gonna be passed out cold right there on that chenille couch, which is probably the best thing for her right now."
"So you want to go to your house?" James asked as he reached the main road.
I nodded. "Yeah, we can go through the book and try to zero in on what we're dealing with."
"And I'm taking you back to town?" He looked at Luther in the rear view mirror.
"No, thanks. I'll go to Sage's house as well. I can help them look."
James pinched his lips together in irritation but didn't reply. In fact, we were almost to the manor before anybody said a word.