Spell on Earth

by Leighann Dobbs

  “No problem.” While I replenished the display case, Lilly finished counting her cash drawer. I couldn’t help noticing she kept glancing at the door leading to the stockroom. Finally, my curiosity got the better of me. “Delivery coming today?”

  “What?” Lilly looked at me, startled. “No. No, dear. I just thought I heard something. Probably another mouse. I’ll have Tommy lay a trap for me later.”

  “Right.” I put the last caramels out then slid the empty tray under the counter before excusing myself to get my own shop open for the day. On my way out the door, I glanced back to see Lilly looking at that back door again. Come to think of it, I’d seen her do that on several occasions. What was up with that?

  Four

  Told you so, Clover said after I’d recounted the morning’s events. It’s dangerous here. I tell you.

  “I don’t think it’s exactly dangerous,” I said.

  Tell that to Amelia Pendleton. Clover sighed. It’s not safe to go outside around here anymore. There’s a killing spree going on. Can’t you see that? We’d better lock ourselves in the shop.

  Normally I would have launched into a lecture about how Clover was wrong and too pessimistic. But I doubted she was serious. In fact, I was fairly certain I’d find her outside later today lying on the side of the road pretending to be roadkill so she could lure some sympathetic tourist into feeding her treats. Yeah, she did that, believe it or not. Odd behavior for a creature that always seemed so worried about bad things happening.

  I didn’t have time to lecture because I spied my sister witch Kenna Byrne making a beeline for my store. She clutched her planner to her chest like a novice skier clutches a towline, her face a mask of determination.

  Kenna was organized to the point of ridiculousness. I’d heard she had planners to organize her planners. But I had to admit she did a good job as director of tourism for the island, even if she did take it a little too seriously. Kenna had always been the ultimate organizer, even when we were at St. Joan of Arc together. She’d been the one to organize all our extracurricular activities. We used to have fun back then, near as I could recall. But now …

  My reminiscence was cut short by Kenna whipping open the door and scanning the shop. Her eyes fell on me, and she strode over, deftly avoiding any errant dirt on the floor lest her pink metallic Tory Burch sandals become soiled.

  How did she manage to keep her luxurious dark hair so silky in this humidity? Mine frizzed out like a redbird’s nest.

  “You looking for a plant? Maybe some chamomile. It would help you be less uptight,” I said.

  Kenna frowned. “Who said I was uptight?”

  “I think that’s pretty well known by everybody.”

  I could see she was getting agitated, and while it was fun winding her up, I knew that, when Kenna got pissed off, her witch powers could flare up and cause unwanted consequences.

  Kenna’s a fire witch, and I don’t need to tell you what that means. Just a flick of her perfectly manicured fingertips could set anything ablaze. In fact, she’d done that once in here before. My plants were already leaning away from her, perhaps remembering how she could reduce them to a charred quivering mess inside their little pots. I didn’t want that to happen, so I refrained from anymore sniping.

  “I heard you discovered the body at the spa. Tell me what you know about it,” Kenna said.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know much. I went to refresh the flowers in the lobby and found a woman in the fountain.”

  “I just talked to Abigail, and she confirmed it was murder.”

  “Yeah, that’s what she said at the scene. Poor Lilly is having a fit. Her fountain is ruined, and she’s afraid it will reflect badly on her.”

  Kenna glanced toward Lilly’s shop, her face softening. “Oh, poor Lilly. I’ll go over and talk to her later on. I don’t want her to think this is going to affect her business.” She opened her ever-present planner and whipped through a few pages. “In fact, I’ll make it up to her by featuring her in the Margaritaland Festival next week.”

  My heart softened toward Kenna. Even though there was still a lot of animosity over what had happened at St. Joan’s, she did have a big heart. We’d once been close friends, confidants even. Sure, we hung around together sometimes, but that was mostly to keep up appearances. Sometimes we had to band together to banish particularly nasty creatures, as we were more powerful together, so we didn’t want it to seem strange that we were suddenly seen together.

  “Did you come here only to talk about the murder?” Enough with the reminiscence. For the most part, the four of us avoided each other now. It was probably best that way. Besides, I had already wasted most of the morning and needed to get on with my day.

  “I need your cooperation. As you know, there was a murder just last week, and two murders in a row does not bode well for island tourism.” She leaned closer even though no one else was in the shop to overhear. “And I don’t need to tell you that a dip in island tourism threatens all our positions.”

  No, she didn’t need to tell me. The island shops and the spa were profitable on their own, but they also acted as a cover for our real reason for being here. If tourists stopped coming, that might blow our cover, and that would not please the rest of the coven back in Jersey. They’d already abandoned us on the island. I shuddered to think what else they could do to make our lives miserable.

  “I want your word you will not go around talking this up. I’ve already talked to Abigail and Buddy, and they’re going to refrain from mentioning murder.”

  “So you want me to lie and pretend she wasn’t murdered?”

  Kenna gave an exasperated sigh. “I would never ask anyone to lie. I’m merely asking you not to talk about it. Don’t describe how you found her in the fountain or what she looked like or what Abigail said. Keep your lips zipped.”

  “I wasn’t planning to go around talking about it.” What did she think I was, some kind of a gossip? She must have mistaken me for Skye.

  “Good.” Kenna snapped her planner shut. “I also heard a rumor of a little man running around. You don’t think …”

  She didn’t need to finish the sentence. I knew she was thinking the same thing I was. Something had escaped from the hole, and one of us was going to have to put it back. “I’m not sure about that. Nothing strange has been happening on the island—no missing people, no mangled trees. The only thing that’s happened is Amelia’s murder, but that’s not exactly the style of any of the creatures I know. I’ll keep my eye out, though.”

  “Yes, let’s hope, if it is a creature, it doesn’t smell like the last one.” Kenna wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I gotta run. I need to dash over to the radio station and make sure Evian doesn’t mention a word about the murder on the air.”

  After Kenna left I got busy cutting off the babies of some spider plants and putting them in water to root. A few customers trickled in, and I sold a couple pots of basil to a tourist.

  I was repotting a rubber tree plant when flashing lights sped by my shop window. My heart lurched. It was the cop cart, and it was skidding to a stop in front of Sweet Satisfaction. I dropped what I was doing and rushed outside just in time to see Buddy hauling Lilly out in handcuffs.

  What the—

  I managed to reach them just as Buddy placed Lilly into the back of the cop cart. “What’s happening here, Buddy?”

  “I’m arresting Lilly Martinelli for the murder of Amelia Pendleton.”

  “You must be kidding!” I took Lilly’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Why?”

  “The victim died in her chocolate fountain.” Buddy’s bulky frame jostled me aside as he finished loading Lilly into the back seat. I had no choice but to let go of her hand. “I’d think that would be obvious, Miss Meadows.”

  “But I was there when Abigail checked the body. She said the victim was struck on the head before falling into the fountain. The fountain didn’t kill her.” I held Lilly’s frightened gaze. “Please, Buddy. You have n
o proof Lilly had anything to do with this. You can’t arrest her just because she owns the chocolate fountain.”

  Buddy pushed past me on his way to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Mitzi sat in the passenger seat, her knitting needles clacking away, as if oblivious to the situation going on around her.

  “It’s not like that at all, Miss Meadows. Since you were there during Abigail’s analysis, you’ll also remember the fiber she found on the victim’s skin. White Angora. Look.”

  He waved a hand at Lilly’s canvas knitting bag tucked next to her in the back seat of the cart. A skein of fluffy white yarn peeked from the top. White Angora.

  Lilly cleared her throat, bringing my attention back to her face. “Zola, dear, can you please watch my store and take care of Penuche? Hopefully Tommy will get this all sorted out soon.”

  “Uh, sure.” I was still trying to take it all in. Lilly sounded so calm. “Wait. Who’s Penuche?”

  “My cat, dear.” Lilly smiled as Buddy started the golf cart. “He’s in the back room. Say a prayer for me. I know you’ve got an ‘in’ with the big guy upstairs, being a nun and all.” They started to pull away, but Lilly kept talking. “Tell Tommy I didn’t kill anyone. And put out more chocolates when you have a chance. Oh, and don’t use that last tray of salted caramels in the locked cupboard to the left of the register along the back wall. They’re stale and shouldn’t be sold to anyone!”

  Great. Now I had two shops to run and my sweet old lady neighbor jailed for a crime she didn’t commit. As I stood helplessly on the sidewalk, my mind raced. I didn’t even know Lilly had a pet. That explained all those furtive glances toward the back door in her shop.

  The sun beamed down merrily from the bright blue sky, but things didn’t feel so sunny anymore. The fact that Buddy was arresting Lilly on such flimsy evidence didn’t sit well with me. I’d been blamed for the burning of St. Joan of Arc on flimsy evidence, and I knew how it felt.

  My mind went back to the purple umbrella that had fallen out of Amelia’s purse. She’d been at Coconuts the night she died. Had Buddy even followed up on that? Knowing how incompetent he was, he probably hadn’t even made the association. But I could. I might be the only one who could make things right for Lilly. I’d messed up big time when St. Joan’s had burned. Maybe this was my chance at redemption.

  I headed off to find Lilly’s cat then to find Tommy and tell him what had just befallen his beloved aunt. Then, I was going to pay a visit to Coconuts.

  Five

  Without Lilly behind the counter, Sweet Satisfaction seemed a bit sad. The chocolate still smelled just as good, though, so I snuck behind the counter and grabbed a nonpareil and munched down on my way to the back door.

  It turned out that Penuche was a fluffy tan-colored cat with golden eyes. Fitting because he was the same color as the delicious penuche fudge that Lilly sold. He hid under an old table when I opened the door.

  I crouched down on the floor and held my hand toward him. “Here, kitty, kitty. Come on out.”

  He shrank further into the corner and eyed me suspiciously.

  “It’s okay. Lilly sent me to get you. She had to um … go out for a bit.”

  He blinked at me and sniffed.

  “Yep, that’s a good boy. I’m going to watch you for a while.”

  He just stared.

  “I have some nice juicy cat treats and lots of soft food.” Clover wasn’t going to be pleased that I’d offered her food to this cat, but I couldn’t spend all day trying to coax it out.

  The offer must have worked because he stretched out his head and sniffed my hand. Apparently it smelled friendly. He blinked up at me then trotted out to sniff the rest of me.

  He probably would’ve been more comfortable staying in his familiar surroundings, but I had a large shipment of clay pots coming in, and I knew that Lilly’s assistant only worked on Fridays. I’d promised her I’d look after the cat, and that’s what I was going to do.

  So, with little choice, I closed up Sweet Satisfaction for the morning and put a handwritten sign in the window stating there’d been a family emergency—not a total lie—then locked everything up tight before taking Penuche back with me to my flower shop.

  A quick glance at Clover’s cat bed showed she was fast asleep. Good thing too. I had no idea how she was going to take to the addition of Penuche, even if it was only for a little while. Probably not good.

  I put Penuche down inside my store then went in search of bowls for his water and food. It had been a long time since I’d had a cat—thirteen years, to be exact—and the thought made me long for my old familiar, Cosmo. He’d been a fine cat, black as ebony and smart as a whip.

  Cosmo was my constant companion during my time at the witches’ academy. But during the fire, all the cats in the building, including Cosmo, became insanely angry and ran off into the forest surrounding the school. No amount of coaxing brought them back. Now they wandered together in the forest, their numbers growing daily, at least according to the island council, which bemoaned the fact that there were so many strays on Eternal Springs at every monthly meeting.

  I’d only managed to glimpse my Cosmo a few times over the years and always from afar. Seemed he’d never forgiven me for my part in the accident that started the fire, and he never approached me again, sadly. Each time I saw him now, I felt a pang of regret and hurt in my heart when he inevitably turned his back on me again.

  Of course it didn’t help that he was always with that hairless cat, Tut. Tut was sneaky and not to be trusted. I’d seen him coming and going from Skye’s place a few times. She probably had him doing her dirty work. I hoped he wasn’t corrupting my sweet Cosmo.

  Shaking off my memories, I grabbed two white bowls from the small kitchenette I kept in the break room and filled one with water and the other with some of Clover’s Fancy Feast. Supplies in hand, I went back out to the front of the shop and placed the bowls behind the counter, where Penuche could have a bit of privacy while he ate or drank. I also put down a towel for a makeshift bed.

  He watched me do all this from across the room, his golden gaze wary. He never did come over to inspect what I’d done, just continued trotting around the room, sniffing various plants and flowers while I got busy going over paperwork for my upcoming deliveries. I’d barely finished reconciling one column of goods when a loud smash jolted me from my numbers.

  Penuche sat across the store from me, looking inordinately pleased with himself. Below the shelf where he sat, a large aloe plant lay on its side, the ceramic pot shattered and dirt all over the floor. I rushed over, scolding the cat as I went. “Bad kitty! Very bad!”

  Clover snorted awake from where she’d been sleeping, her eyes widening when she noticed Penuche.

  What in the name of Hecate is that? Clover asked.

  “Our guest,” I said as I gently picked up the plant, feeling its pain. It was jarring for a potted plant to have its home smashed and its roots exposed. I muttered soothing words as I quickly grabbed another pot and repotted the aloe, careful to use most of its own soil.

  We don’t need any guests. This could be bad, very bad. It’s already wreaking havoc. Clover remained in her bed, eyeing the cat, which was looking at her curiously.

  I got the broom and started to sweep, glancing at Penuche, who was perched on a shelf, watching me.

  “You’re a bad kitty. No wonder Lilly keeps you locked in back.” I said returning to my sweeping.

  “Bad? This is normal behavior for my species, lady. You can’t expect me not to dig. Besides, I’m an indoor cat, and I never get to dig next door in the candy store. No pots there at all. When you brought me here, and I saw all this glorious dirt, it was too much to resist.”

  Slowly, I raised my gaze to meet Penuche’s. I was no stranger to talking to animals, but I’d never been able to communicate with one other than Clover. Normally witches can talk only to their familiars, so this took me by surprise. But this communication was different. It wasn’t happening telepath
ically inside my head as it did with Clover. I was actually hearing words come from Penuche’s mouth. I wondered if the cat talked like this to Lilly too, or maybe it was just a witch thing.

  Taking my shock in stride, Penuche continued on his digging rampage, running from pot to pot and tossing soil everywhere. This drew Clover’s interest, and soon she waddled over, curious to see what all the fuss was about. Big mistake. Next thing I knew, the two animals were swapping insults like ammunition.

  “I have to say that you’re the weirdest looking cat I’ve ever seen,” Penuche said, giving Clover some serious side-eye. “Perhaps it’s due to too much inbreeding.”

  Clover’s spine stiffened. She fixed the cat with a heated glare. First, I’m not a cat, which you’d know if you could focus on more than just playing in the dirt for two seconds. Second, you don’t want to get on my bad side, mister. I’ve got a secret weapon, and I’m not afraid to use it.

  “Oh, so you actually have a good side?” Penuche halted mid-dig and gave my pet the feline equivalent of a raised brow. “I was in serious doubt there for a minute.”

  At that Clover turned so her butt faced the cat and arched her back. Doubt this, buddy.

  With a noxious spray imminent, I rushed over and picked up Clover, doing my best to sooth her ruffled ego while I put her back in her bed. Then I returned to cleaning up after Penuche, who’d managed to cause more destruction in five minutes than Clover ever had in her entire time being with me at the store.

  We need to get rid of him. He smells like candy and bad insults, Clover said.

  “Look who’s talking. You smell like putrid festering sulphur,” Penuche shot back as he uprooted a coleus.

  “Kids, kids! Please! Would you mind! My day was already messed up, and now I have to clean the whole store. You’re giving me a headache.”

  Perhaps some willow bark would get rid of that? Clover suggested, a tinge of apology in her voice.

  Penuche stared at me, and for a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of compassion in his eyes before he trotted off to curl up in a patch of sun in the greenhouse.