by Tegan Maher
My magic must have worked. She smiled back with the exact matronly expression I was hoping for. Her answer, however, wasn’t. “I’d love to help, sweety, but we haven’t seen anybody by that name. I’ve been here all week, and I never forget a name.”
“Darn,” I replied with my aw-shucks charade while I opened my senses to make sure she wasn’t just a normal-person wrapping for a hard, black, demon center. She was not. “I must be at the wrong dentist. You have a good day.”
She nodded and turned back to her computer, snapping her gum once more as I turned away. I sent a wave of peace out from myself and across the room and heaved a sigh of relief when the dread evaporated from the air. There. My good deed for the day.
Too bad it hadn’t involved shoving my first wayward demon into a little bitty box.
8
“Well that was a wash,” I said once we were out the door. “Not that I expected anything different.”
“Callum was right, though,” Michael said. “It needed checked. By the way, clever idea to find out if he’d been there.”
I hopped around another puddle. “Thanks. I don’t know how we would have found out about Mary Kate if she’d said Bernie’d been there, though.”
We were at a corner, and Michael motioned for me to cross the street. “I would have taken over. As an agent for the PCIB, I have the authority to access their patient list and appointment calendar.”
That was good information to have. “What do you do, exactly?”
“That answer’s complicated,” he replied. “When I was young, I did some stupid stuff and got in with a bad crowd. I was headed down a dark path, but then something happened that changed my whole perspective.”
Pain flashed across his face, and his jaw flexed. I wondered what had gone so wrong that it had caused him to do a complete about-face.
“Anyway,” he said, keeping his gaze forward, “I made connections in that life that have proven useful to me in this one. I’m an agent and have my own cases, but I also assist with information gathering for other cases and keep my finger on the pulse of the darker side of the magical world.”
“That’s not so complicated,” Callum said. “You’re an agent who knows a lot about the world you live in. That makes you a valuable tool.”
It was interesting that he chose to use the word tool rather than agent or asset, but I decided to let it slide. I considered myself a student of behavior—another skill that made me a master manipulator. Why people did things fascinated me, and Callum was a big ball of mystery.
Michael picked up on it too, which impressed me, and his face became thunderous. “I’m nobody’s tool. This is my domain. I do what I do because I want to, not because anybody’s forcing me to.”
Rocky, his wolf, nudged his hand in what could only be interpreted as a show of support. I’d love to hear the story behind his motivation, but I had a feeling that wasn’t something he shared with just anybody. Not that I could blame him. We all had skeletons.
“So where are we going next?” I asked, moving the conversation back to safer emotional ground.
Michael pulled in a deep breath, then let it out. “The one place I’ve managed to nail down where they both visited. It’s a little shop called Potions and Lotions. The shop keeper is actually my cousin, which is how I found out they’d both been in there that day. She heard about the deaths and called me.”
We were headed into a kitschier part of town, and the Halloween decorations were more elaborate than the ones I’d seen so far. Skeletons charmed to dance when you walked past them, Jack-o-Lanterns that spoke or growled, and spider webs strung everywhere, it seemed. Larg,e lighted wreath-type decorations in the form of black cats and cartoonish ghosts were attached to the light posts positioned up and down the street. All in all, the area was much cheerier and better kept than the older section.
“I kinda figured you’d tried to keep this out of the public eye,” Callum said as we stopped in front of a cute little shop with a black-and-white striped awning with pink pinstripes between the larger stripes.
Somebody had artfully arranged potions and different types of personal products such as lotions and hair products in the window, and I smiled at the cutesy Halloween decorations. A layer of black cobweb lined the bottom, and black-and-orange lights shone through. Bath bombs spilled from holiday-themed candy bowls, and an adorable stuffed white fox with a few black splotches and mismatched blue and green eyes sat in the corner. Or at least I thought it was stuffed until it saw us and jumped out of the window and out of sight inside.
“I did, but this is a small town. Even though there’s plenty of crime, there aren’t many murders. Keeping a lid on this just isn’t going to happen.”
Michael pulled the door open and stood back to let us in. A pleasant feeling of contentment washed over me as a cheerful bell rang above the door announcing our arrival. It wasn’t an overbearing sensation; I just felt a little happier than I had before I’d stepped in. Neat trick, and probably made her a few extra sales. If nothing else, I was sure it saved her a few headaches.
The shop was mostly white with pops of color here and there that kept it from feeling sterile. The floor was done in a black-and-white checkerboard tile. A petite brunette bustled out from behind the counter wearing a huge, welcoming smile, and I liked her immediately. That surprised me more than a little because I wasn’t typically a people person, especially when it came to women. I found they could be catty and manipulative. But then again, so could I when I wanted to be.
This woman, though, didn’t seem to have an unpleasant bone in her body. She did have her share of backbone, though. The confidence she exuded was almost palpable.
“Hey, there,” she exclaimed in a voice tinged with a southern accent. “I’m Mila, and this is Calamity.”
The little fox I’d seen in the window was touching noses with Rocky, both of them bouncing up and down in excitement.
“Hey,” Calamity said without even glancing at me.
“I’m Kira, and this is Callum. We’re working with Michael on the murders.”
Callum nodded. “I understand both of them were in here the day they died.”
Mila nodded. “C’mon back and let me get y’all somethin’ to drink,” she said. “Even though it’s October, it’s still hot as blue blazes out there.”
She led us through a swinging door, and I was surprised to find that it led to a warm, homey little kitchen-ish room with appliances, wood floors, and large fireplace with a medium-sized cauldron sitting on the hearth. She motioned toward a round cherry table. The walls were lined with shelves full of what I assumed were ingredients to make her products, but everything was neat as a pin.
Mila pulled four glasses from a cabinet and reached into the fridge. “Is tea good for everyone?”
After we all agreed, she poured them and motioned for us to have a seat as she pulled two chew snacks from the cabinet and gave one each to Rocky and Calamity.
The little fox turned up her nose, and her mismatched eyes narrowed. “I don’t like these ones as well as the ones made from chicken.”
“Too bad,” Mila said, but there was no irritation in her voice. “Take it or leave it. It’s what I have.”
After a little more grumbling, she took the treat and went to lie down beside the wolf, who was already hard at work on his.
I took a long swig of the tea and was happy to find it was sweetened perfectly. There seemed to be a new movement to start drinking tea unsweetened, and that just made no sense to me.
“So,” she said, “we have a lost soul loose in our town, and it’s killing people. How did this happen?”
I swirled my tea in my glass and watched as the amber liquid made a little tornado. “My mother let it loose.”
She raised a raven brow. “Just this one?”
I shook my head. “We don’t know for sure how many.”
Mila ran her tongue over her teeth. “So, we have an unknown number of souls on the loose. Are they al
l demons?”
“We don’t know that either,” Callum replied. “But we’re doing our best to clean up the mess. Her aunts are Gate Keepers. They’re trying to sort out who’s there and who isn’t, but as you can imagine, that’s about like trying to sort through the grains of sand on a beach.”
I didn’t look up at Mila because I didn’t want to see the judgment I was sure I’d find in her eyes. I was shocked a few moments later when she spoke.
“Well, it’s spilt milk now. All we can do is work to find them as they crop up and hope that they do minimal damage as they do.”
I whipped my head up to look at her, expecting to find anything but what I did: compassion and resolve.
She laughed when she saw my expression. “Oh, sweetie, passin’ blame won’t do us any good and will only cause hard feelings. Castin’ stones won’t put the genie back in the bottle.”
“Thank you for that,” I said. I wasn’t sure why she was being so magnanimous, but I was grateful.
“Both victims were in here the day the died, right?” Callum asked.
She nodded. “Though they were in at different times. They were vastly different people, but they did both buy one product that was the same.”
“And what was that?” Michael asked.
“Weirdly enough, a quite specific type of healing lotion. No alcohol, scents, or pigments, and they wanted something light that would absorb quickly and not be greasy. Mary Kate bought a few other things, too, but Bernie just got the lotion.” She drew her brows together in thought.
“That is oddly specific,” I said. “Neither of them said what they needed it for?”
She shook her head. “No, and I didn’t ask. I was slam busy that day and didn’t have time to chitchat like I usually do.”
“So maybe they had some sort of injury,” I said. “A burn, maybe?”
“I don’t know,” Michael replied, but we may learn more after we speak with the families.”
“When can we do that?” I asked. “Do you have their information?”
He nodded and pushed to his feet. “I’ll call them now. Mary Kate’s folks are retired and live right outside of town, so let’s hope they’re sitting back enjoying the day. Bernie didn’t have any family living locally.”
While Michael was outside, Callum took the time to use the restroom, and I wandered around the space. Mila was the most organized person I’d ever met. Each vial, bottle, and canister that filled her shelves was neatly labeled and facing out so that it would be easy to grab. They were organized into groups, with herbs and other dried ingredients alphabetized on one shelf, liquids and bases on another, and finished products on wire shelves on the opposite side of the room.
“Do you make all these yourself?” I asked, examining a bottle of shampoo labeled as containing a growth serum. “And, no offense, but do they all do as they say?”
She nodded. “I do, and they do.”
“Hmm,” I said. “Do you have any sunscreen?” I usually carried my own because I was fair to the point of looking like a napkin, but I’d forgotten to shove it in the bag. I could already feel my nose and forehead getting crinkly, which meant I was probably getting a sunburn.
She nodded and went straight to a shelf in the back. She turned and handed me two bottles, smiling. “My cousin Destiny works on a beach resort and insists on tanning. I came up with those specifically for her. One will keep you from burning and the other will moisturize and keep you looking young. It’s never too early to start.”
“What do I owe you?” I asked, reaching into my satchel for my wallet.
She waved me off. “On the house. Let me know what you think. And by the way, I love that top.”
“Thanks,” I said, looking down at the hot-pink bustier I was wearing. “I wear them mostly to irritate my oh-so-modest aunts, though I like the way they look, too.”
She examined me. “I used to do the same. It drove my mom and my aunts nuts. As I got older, I became more comfortable in my own skin and switched to jeans and tee-shirts. I’ve gotten frumpy, I suppose.”
I smiled at her as I took a closer look at her appearance. She had long dark hair with the same auburn highlights her cousin did, but her skin was milky white and flawless. Her green eyes were bright, and her lips were full. I’d gone brunette for a while, but it just hadn’t looked right on me, so I’d switched back to my natural blonde.
“I don’t think anybody would look at you and call you frumpy. I own plenty of tee-shirts, too. I just find that I have better range of motion when I have my arms and shoulders free. I grinned. “Plus, it looks good with the pants.”
She grinned back. “There’s no denying that. You do you, sugar, and don’t let anybody stomp that out of you.”
I slathered some of the sunscreen on, then stuffed both bottles in my bag. “Thank you for this. You’ve saved me hours of misery.”
Michael returned. “We can go see them now. They said Mary Kate was over for dinner the night before she died.”
“Perfect,” I said, glad that we were no longer stuck in limbo. Or depending on what they had to say, maybe we were. But at least we had a direction.
That was a good thing because I was tired of feeling like we were always two steps behind.
9
Mary Kate’s parents lived in a modest ranch-style home about a mile from Mila’s shop. It wasn’t exactly a short walk in the heat, but it wasn’t terrible, either. I was glad I’d worn my comfortable boots.
“Wait out here,” I told Lonan, and Michael nodded toward Rocky, who plopped down in a shady spot beside the porch.
Michael knocked, and a slender woman I assumed was Mary Kate’s mother opened the door and offered a sad smile as she stood back to welcome us in. A plate of cookies sat on the glass-topped coffee table.
“Please, sit down,” she said, motioning to two pristine beige floral couches that faced each other and were flanked by matching armchairs. “And please, have a cookie. We’ve been inundated with food the neighbors prepared. It’s delicious, but way more than Henry and I will ever eat.”
I plucked one off the plate and bit into it. “Wow, these are delicious.”
Her chin quivered as she put her best effort into a watery smile. “Those are snickerdoodles. They’re—were—Mary Kate’s favorite.”
The three of us looked away, giving her a moment to compose herself.
“Henry’s out in the garage tinkering,” she said. “It’s his way of dealing with the grief. We’re both at loose ends. I’ll go get him.”
“Thank you Ma’am,” Callum replied. “We wouldn’t be imposing if it weren’t important.”
“I don’t consider it an imposition,” she said, her tone full of resolve. “We’ll do whatever it takes to find the monster responsible for this.”
It only took a couple minutes for her to fetch her husband, a large balding man with sad eyes and a slouch that I was sure wasn’t normal for him. He looked completely lost as he took a seat beside his wife.
“You’re going to find who did this to our Mary Kate, right? She’d just gotten a promotion at work, and her future was bright.”
A stab of guilt shot through me, but I pushed it down. My mom had a lot to answer for when they finally caught her, and I was beginning to think she deserved every bit of it even if her actions had been unintentional. People were suffering because she’d been so wrapped up in herself that she’d gone against everything we stood for. Sure, I’d been irresponsible and impulsive, but if anything, I’d learned from her what not to do. I’d never had a serious relationship and had gone out of my way to keep it that way.
“I promise we will,” I said, resolve straightening my spine. The feeling was foreign to me; other people’s emotions didn’t usually have such an effect on me, and I didn’t like that they did now. And I hated the reason behind it.
“Can you take us through her last couple days?” Callum asked. “We’re trying to find a connection between her and the other victim. Did she know Bernie M
oore, do you know?”
Mrs. Evans shook her head. “I’ve talked to her coworkers and her best friend, and I don’t think so. He worked as an accountant, as I understand it, and I can’t imagine why Mary Kate would have had reason to see him. He was also quite a bit older than she was, so I’m sure romance wasn’t a factor, not that she was interested in a relationship right now. She was focused on her career. She’d worked her way into management. I didn’t particularly care for her choice—working in a bar was never what I pictured for her, but her goal was to own her own restaurant someday, so I guess managing Bar None made sense for her right now.”
“How long had she been there?” I asked. I didn’t know if that was in her file or not, and I was a little irritated at myself for not having read the dossiers Adam had included. I’d skimmed them but hadn’t committed much to memory.
“Just over a year,” her dad replied. “She was proud of how quickly she’d climbed the ladder.”
“That is impressive,” Michael replied, taking a bite of a cookie. “Did she mention anything odd going on at work? New coworkers, maybe?”
“Not to us,” Mr. Evans replied.
“She did mention that they’d just hired several new people and that a couple of the dishwashers seemed a little odd,” he mom added. She tilted her head. “Or maybe they’re cooks. At any rate, she thought something was off with them.”
“Off how?” Callum asked, leaning forward on the couch so that his knees
Mrs. Evans lifted a shoulder. “She said they were a little crude and creepy, to use her words, and used odd turns of phrase like you might have heard in the 1800s. She didn’t understand why her boss had hired them.”