Abracastabra (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery # 4) (Hex Falls Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series)

by Rachel Rivers

  And I can’t afford to miss that meeting, but I just had to see Jeremy.

  I throw open the doors and race along the corridor. Light shines in from the east, past the trees, through the windows, making sparkly patterns all over the floor. I wonder briefly if he’ll be awake yet. There is so much I want to ask him. But then I remember the doctors said he could be a while coming out of the coma, especially after his other head injury, and all hope of discussing things with him are dashed. I arrive at the room and gently push back the door.

  “Oh, Jeremy.” I gasp when I see him. I drop my bag and rush toward him, my hands trembling over my mouth. He’s so still in bed, it’s like he’s not real.

  He’s swollen and bruised from head to toe, bandages wrapped tight around his middle and around the top of his head. They cover one eye and go over one ear, but the other eye is free and visible but cinched tightly shut. “Oh, you poor, poor thing.” I want to touch him, but don’t know where.

  “It’s all right, you can touch his face, just not his head.”

  I turn. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you there.” I blush, realizing there’s a doctor standing in the corner. He’s a small balding man, dressed in the white coat and glasses. “Is he going to be all right, Doctor?” I ask.

  “It’s hard to say at this point,” the doctor says, scribbling something down on a clipboard, then clicks his pen, returns it to his pocket, without every looking at me. “But all we can do is hope.” He steps forward, hangs the clipboard back on the hook, at the end of Jeremy’s bed, and touches his toe.

  “So, you don’t know for sure if he’ll ever fully recover from this?” My heart beats in my throat. “He won’t suffer permanent damage, will he?” I ask, concern fluid in my voice.

  “It’s hard to know for sure, now that he’s fallen into the coma.” He looks down at Jeremy, sympathetically. “But he’s proven himself to be a fighter before.” He smiles and taps his toes again. “I’ve very pleased with his progress, considering the sight he was when he first came in.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he endured quite the blow to the chest, here.” The doctor points. “Whatever hit him left a divot in him, deep as a crater. From this point right above his sternum, right on down to the base of his ribs.” He folds back the sheet for me to see, tracing the area in air above his bandages with a finger. “Never seen anything like it in all my years of practice. Another inch or two to the left and it would have stopped his heart.” I gaps. “Whatever it was that hit him, burned a hole clear through his skin, right down to the bone.”

  I shudder looking up.

  “Yeah, a blow to the chest like that would’ve killed a lesser man.” The doctor pulls the sheet back up over Jeremy’s chest and pats it lightly. “But not our Sheriff Wilkes. The man seems to be made of something superhuman.” He laughs, turning a smile in my direction.

  “That he does,” I say, smiling back.

  Little does he know the half of it.

  “He just uttered a few things, and then his body shut down.”

  What?

  “Nothing that intelligible. It was mostly just babble, really. The rantings of a man in horrible pain, I’m afraid.” The doctor sighs and looks at Jeremy, longingly.

  “So, you couldn’t understand a word he said?”

  “Oh, there were a few words here and there,” the doctor says, then scratches his chin. “Something about…someone not being dead. He kept repeating it over and over… ‘He’s not dead. He’s not dead.’ Which, of course, he was not. If that’s what he was trying to say. Though perhaps he meant, ‘She’s not dead,’ in reference to the poor assistant, which unfortunately she was.” He squints.

  “And that was it? He didn’t say anything else?” I ask, tentatively. “Nothing about IDing the knife-thrower.” I shake my head. “No details that would help us find who she really was under all that make-up?”

  “No. Why do you ask?” His woolly brows bunch together. “You’re not working the case, are you?”

  “Actually, I am helping out.”

  He scoffs, laughingly. “But you’re just a decorator.”

  “Could you just tell me, please? Did he mention anything else?”

  The doctor ponders the thought a moment, then scowls hard. “There was more thing. But I doubt it had any significance.”

  “Try me,” I say, my nerves balanced on tenterhooks.

  “The nurses reported him muttering something about the magic not being black or red.”

  I gasp. My gods…he knew.

  “Anything else.”

  “Something about the hair being yellow not red. Whatever that means. Here I think they wrote it down.” He plucks Jamie’s chart of the hook again and starts flipping through pages. “Yes, here it is… he was shouting, ‘My talisman, my talisman, where is my talisman? They can’t have it. They must not get it. Something like that.” My eyes flash and he flips the chart shut. “It was the strangest thing, he wouldn’t stop, and was frantically searching the bedclothes for it. Of course there was no talisman. Nothing at all. Likely just the morphine drip.”

  “You’re sure that’s the word he used? Talisman?” I ask, my blood warming.

  “Yes.” The doctor blinks. “He repeated it several times, as was recorded in his chart.”

  “And all this happened just before he fell into the coma?”

  “That’s right.” The doctor nods.

  “Right after the warlock left him, I’m betting,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” I exhale. “Was there anything else.”

  “No that was it.”

  “Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.” I take his hand in mine and shake it, then turn to leave but stagger back. “One more thing, if you don’t mind my asking.” I look back at Jeremy lying so still in his bed, and twist my hands, nervously. “This is going to sound silly, but what color were his eyes when he said all those things?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The color of his eyes. Do you remember, were they bright azure blue or more like faded denim jeans?”

  The doctor blusters. “That seems a ridiculous question to ask. How would I recall the color of his eyes, since the one was cut and the other terribly swollen—”

  “They were definitely denim blue,” a young nurse answers from behind us. She sweeps into the room as if eager to tell me. “Sorry,” she apologizes to the doctor for cutting him of. “I was just walking by and overheard.” She looks at me. “I was working, the night he was brought in. His eyes were wild with terror. They were definitely light blue in color, like faded denim blue jeans, as you said. I remember them because I remembered thinking, how odd it was for them to be that color. It was almost like they were sparkling. Sparkly looking too, if that helps.” She looks to me and bites her lip. “Then, as the doctor indicated, he started muttering those things and passed out, and we haven’t seen his eyes since.”

  “Thank you,” I say to her. “That’s very helpful.” I nod, pick up my bag and leave the room as the doctor looks at the nurse strangely.

  Now to figure out exactly what Jeremy meant by talisman.

  I quickstep my way up the hall and out of the hospital.

  Chapter 20

  I’m nearly late for my meeting with Jamie at The Bottom of the Cauldron. I push on through the door to see him sitting at a table. He turns, hearing the bell, spots me, and breaks into a smile. “Hey!” He waves, and I head to his table. “I’m glad you came.” He stands and smiles, greeting me with a handshake, and I smile back.

  “Me too.” I take the seat across from him.

  He grins and takes a low slow pull of his drink, which looks to be the house special—Joe with Jack-o-lantern Spice. I saw the sign board outside advertising it, and have to admit, it sounded nice. A much more civilized drink choice than his brother—topped with a lovely hint of cinnamon and swirl of frothy cream. No disgusting eyes or body bits floating around on top of this one. Things are al
ready improving between us.

  In spite of the fact, he’s jailed my uncle.

  “I hope you don’t mind; I took the liberty of ordering you one of these as well.” He pushes a twin house special in my direction.

  Liberty…huh. What a great word choice. So sophisticated and intelligent. I sigh, dropping my chin into my hand, my elbow resting on the table. Another definite difference between him and his twin. His use of advanced diction.

  But rather presumptuous of him, wasn’t it?

  “I guess I really hoped you’d show up and was prepared to take a loss.”

  I smile.

  Funny too. Boy, the positives are just racking up.

  “Thanks,” I say. “I don’t mind at all.” I tuck into the drink, which is so creamy sweet, even the straw tastes like candy.

  “So, where do we go from here?” He sighs and sits back, stretching, and I can’t take my eyes off the man. Everything about him I’m noticing is, well…perfect. From his gorgeous wavy hair to his smooth beautiful skin—to his bulky broad shoulders, rock-hard abs, by the looks of things through that tight T shirt, and…” I lean to the side, looking him down. “Very muscular calves.” I check out his sandals. “Hex, the man even has good-looking toes. And exquisite taste in footwear. And by the looks of things, no crooked pinkie. Score!

  I feel safer already.

  “How’s my brother?”

  “Not too bad.” I smile. “How did you know I was up there?”

  “I got a text.” He shows me. “I set it up on his phone. I’ll know everyone who goes in and out of his room, the whole time he’s up there.”

  “Clever,” I say. Must make a mental note of that.

  “So, what should be our first move?” he asks, getting right down to business.

  “Huh?” I say, temporarily losing my train of thought. The man’s gaze is so intense, it’s mesmerizing. Much more so than his brother’s. Though his eyes are the same piercing shade of azure blue.

  He is truly the whole package, isn’t he? All a girl could ask for. As breathtaking to look at as his brother, but more polished and charming, and as smart as Sotherby—

  Oh goodwitchness! Did I just think that?

  “So, what do you think? Who’s our culprit? Who was under all that make-up and scarlet wig?” He leans toward me, his eyes sparkling in the low light of the candlelit room, and suddenly I can’t form words. My heart flutters in my chest. Exactly the same way when Jeremy looks at me. This is really creepy having two of them.

  “Well…” before I can say, he cuts me off.

  “Personally, my suspicions are leaning toward espionage or some kind of organized hit.”

  What?

  “You know, like a mob killing or murder for hire?”

  Wow, he went there fast.

  “In the tiny town of Hex Falls?” I stare at him, astonished.

  “Yeah, why not. Mob hits happen everywhere.”

  Oooh-kay.

  “I’m just thinking, you know, with the way it was done so violently and all.”

  Yeah, cause the mob is always staking people to death.

  “I figure somebody might be trying to send a message.”

  “To whom?” I ask.

  “That, I don’t know.” He nods, wrinkling his brows. “But we’ll need to find out.” He grins and lifts his drink to his lips.

  “Right,” I say. Okay so, maybe not as smart as Sotherby.

  A mob hit would not have been my first inclination, but I suppose it could be plausible. Of course, my first guess is colored by the fact I’m from the supernatural realm, where killing with stakes through the heart usually indicate the need to kill a vampire.

  Wait…

  “I figure we should head back over to the crime scene and poke around a little more. You know, see what we can come up with. There might have been something we missed.”

  Oh there was, but my aunts and cousin already came up with it.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say and sip my drink.

  “It seemed oddly clean last night, when we were there.”

  “Oh?” I raise a brow.

  “Yeah. I mean, I found a few fibers lying around and took a couple blood samples, but the rest of the place appeared oddly pristine. Especially out in the midway.”

  Fibers? I gulp. I’m still back on that.

  “It was strange, you know, almost like somebody’d got there before us and cleaned everything up. But, of course, that’s not possible, because you had the whole scene cordoned off. There couldn’t have been anyone else out there but us.” He looks at me in a way that tells me we’re no longer in friendly territory. “You did have it cordoned off, didn’t you? Yellow tape, security guards, the whole nine yards.”

  Well, maybe eight of them. “Of course, I did,” I say. Wayne and Donny count as guards, right?

  “And no one moved anything, as far as you know? Say, while I was outside attending to my brother?” he asks, his voice tentative.

  I narrow my eyes and stare hard at him. “If you’re insinuating myself, or one of my relatives, might have pocketed any evidence, the answer is no.”

  Okay, so it’s a lie, but it’s no use to him anyway. It’s magical.

  “Oh, no… I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you’re driving at,” I lean harshly toward him. “With my uncle being involved, you think we might have meddled with something because we wanted to protect him. Well, you’re wrong. First of all, my family are people of integrity. We would never do that. And secondly, there is no need for us to steal any evidence, because there’s nothing to protect him from.” My eyes flash. “My uncle is not guilty of what he’s been charged with. He is the unfortunate victim of circumstance.”

  I thrust myself back in my chair.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Well, you did. There’s no other way to take that question.”

  “Then, I apologize.”

  I hold him steady in my not-so-nice gaze. “That is the goal here, isn’t it? To prove my uncle is innocent? I thought that’s what you implied last night by your little speech about him being safer right now to be in jail.”

  Because if it’s not, I should probably go now—and launch my own investigation. I glower.

  “R-Right,” he stammers and sits back and sighs. “Are you always this right to the point?”

  “I seldom beat around the bush if that’s what you’re asking.” Especially, when it comes to my relatives.

  “Okay, then. Now that we understand each other,” he leans forward pulling his little black notebook from his back pocket and places it on the table along with a pen. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Do you any thoughts on the matter? Any suspicions?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  He picks up the pen and looks at me intently.

  How can I tell him what I’m thinking, without mentioning the Druens or magic for that matter? I don’t. “There was one thing that was bothering me.”

  “Well, go on spit it out.”

  “It was just—” I hesitate, wondering if I should trust him. “I dunno, something about the look on her face. The knife-thrower’s, I mean, and the way she was acting. It was dark, you know, sardonic almost.”

  “Well, often these kinds of stage shows are dark in nature.”

  “Yes. But…it was the way she looked at my uncle that really troubled me.”

  “Oh?” He poises the pen over the paper.

  “Yeah. Like, she had no intention of accepting any other volunteer but him. She was laser-focused on only accepting him. It was like she knew who she wanted, before she even stepped on that stage.”

  “Did they know each other?”

  “I can’t see how.” I shake my head. “Anyway, the way she chose him and had him dragged up there, in spite of his objecting, it just felt really weird, you know? Then she got him up there and things happened so fast, and he looked so confused, and she kept directing the lights into his eyes, so he couldn’t possibly see her.”


  “You think she didn’t want him to see her.”

  “I dunno.” He writes that down. “And one more thing, I saw her lick him.”

  “What?”

  “I swear I did, right after she dragged that knife blade under his chin. She swooped toward him, as if to whisper in his ear, but from where I was standing, I swear I saw her lick the blood from his chin.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” I shake my head, the image fresh in my head.

  “So, she dragged the knife blade under his chin, and according to you, it was to get a taste of his blood?”

  Well, when he puts it that way, it does sound kooky, doesn’t it.

  “You’re sure you saw this?”

  “Yes. I mean, it was dark in the tent, and her neck was turned, but there was a lot of light on the stage and I was standing very close. I also could have sworn I saw her lick the residue from her lips as she walked back across the stage to her knife-throwing position.”

  “Well, doesn’t that beat all?” He makes a sour face. “Maybe she did that just for the audience?”

  “Maybe?” Or maybe she was testing his blood. Vampires often do that before a kill…

  “So, we’ve got strange behavior from the knife-thrower, toward your uncle, right before it happens. And the possibility of it being an organized hit.”

  Oh, gods, we’re back to that…

  “Only question is, why your uncle?” He looks up from his notepad.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why would someone be after him?” He stares at me. “I mean, if the knife-thrower was presumably looking to frame your uncle. What would be the reason?”

  “Perhaps she wasn’t,” I say, looking past his head at the dartboard on the wall behind.

  “What do you mean?” Jamie twists, following my gaze.

  “Perhaps it was him she was intending to murder.” His eyes flash as I look back at him.

  A long moment of silence passes between us.

  Chapter 21

  The cameras flash, blinding me, as I stand at the podium about to give my speech. My hands are trembling so hard I can barely hang onto the lecturn. An enormous crowd stands before me, gawking up at the stage. I swear all of Hex Falls has come out for this.