Now Paul was a trainer I could get on board with. His goat-like lower half guaranteed no squats.
“What about Freddie?” I asked. “Did he have anyone special?”
Heidi’s expression clouded over. “Not at the moment. Not for lack of trying, though.”
“He was a regular at Thursday night speed dating,” Paul said. “And I heard he paid a visit to Pandora, too.” Pandora was a local matchmaker.
“Do you have any clue why someone would do this to him?” I asked.
Heidi shook her head. “I have to think it was a case of mistaken identity. Freddie didn’t have any enemies.”
Paul scrutinized me. “Sheriff Hugo arrested one of your classmates, didn’t he?”
“Sophie’s the one who found him,” I said. “Nothing more. The sheriff had no evidence to the contrary. That’s why he let her go.”
Paul didn’t appear convinced. “I heard a witness came forward.”
That was news to me. “What witness?”
“Some wereweasel called Mike claims he saw Sophie with Freddie or something.”
“Where?” I asked. “In the forest?”
“I think that’s what he said.”
“I thought he said it was at Thursday night speed dating,” Heidi said reluctantly. I could tell she didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news.
“I don’t think Sophie’s ever been to speed dating,” I objected. “I promise you. Not only is Sophie a lovely person who would never hurt anyone, she’s also a remedial witch. The Endless Sleep curse is way above her pay grade.”
“Doesn’t mean she didn’t have help,” Paul countered. “Witches tend to stick together.”
Heidi patted her boyfriend’s arm. “That’s enough, Paul. Emma’s only trying to help her friend. Freddie would do the same for me.”
“I know the coven is working with Mayor Knightsbridge and Sheriff Hugo to see if they can break the spell,” I said.
Heidi mustered a smile. “Yes, Lady Weatherby is very kind.”
I nearly choked on my own saliva. “Yes,” I managed to say. “She is.” There were many adjectives to describe the head of the coven, but ‘kind’ was not on the list.
“Good to meet you, Emma,” Heidi said, as Paul steered her away.
“Same here,” I called after them.
Lucy, my fairy friend, fluttered beside me, her pink wing tickling my arm. “What are you thinking? Is Heidi a suspect?”
I stared into the darkening forest. “I don’t know. She seemed genuinely upset and he seemed like a typical guy.” Albeit with a goat’s legs, ears, horns and a tail.
“Mayor Knightsbridge is eager to have the spell broken,” Lucy said. “She doesn’t like the coffin on display like this. It sets a negative tone.” As the mayor’s assistant, Lucy was privy to all sorts of town gossip.
“Can’t say I blame her,” I said. “So what do you know about Thursday night speed dating?”
Lucy perked up. “You want to try speed dating?”
“No,” I said quickly, “Freddie was a regular and I want to get Sophie scratched off the list of suspects. If speed dating is the price I pay to make it happen, then so be it.”
“Can I get her off the hook, too?” Lucy asked.
“The more, the merrier,” I replied.
Lucy’s wings beat rapidly. “We’re going to have the best time.”
“The best time doing what?” Begonia asked, joining us.
“We’re going to speed dating on Thursday night,” Lucy said.
“I’ll need to miss harp therapy, though.” I hated to skip a class, but at least I could still attend on Tuesday.
“Are there any hot guys in harp therapy?” Begonia asked.
“None whatsoever,” I said.
Begonia pounded me between the shoulder blades. “Decision made.”
“I’m not actually interested in speed dating, you know,” I said. “I just need information.”
“Sure,” Lucy said. “Let’s all go in search of information. Tall, muscular information.”
“I love to get my hands on as much information as I can,” Begonia said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Good grief. I had the sinking feeling that speed dating was a very, very bad idea.
Speed dating at Cupid’s Arrow was like the inside of a supernatural circus tent. There were about a dozen small stations, each with two chairs and a bistro table. The female participants were instructed to start at their assigned number and work their way around the room, giving each person a chance to meet every member of the opposite sex in attendance. I assumed there wasn’t a similar evening for same-sex couples. If there had been, maybe Gareth wouldn't have felt compelled to stay in the coffin for so long.
"I don't see any vampires," Begonia said, her disappointment evident.
"There’s lots of male meat here," Lucy said. “You don't have to date a vampire."
Begonia pinched my arm. "Don't look now, but I see Lars."
"Who's Lars?" I asked.
"An incubus," Lucy said. She didn't look nearly as enthusiastic as Begonia.
"Speed dating must be like shooting fish in a barrel for him," I said.
Begonia’s brow wrinkled. "I have no idea what that means. Why would you shoot fish in a barrel?"
"Forget it," I said, as I watched Lars roll up his sleeves and flex his biceps. Give me strength. “My mission here tonight is to find the wereweasel who's fabricating stories about Sophie. You girls have fun."
"No way," Begonia said. "We're here to help, too. We want Sophie exonerated as much as anyone. She's one of us."
My resolve strengthened. I'd make it through tonight for Sophie's sake. We all would.
"And if I get a good date out of it," Begonia whispered, "all the better."
A voice boomed. "Attention daters. Please take a sticker and a number from the admission table and listen for the bell. Then take your seats. You have six minutes at each table.”
Suddenly, dating felt very much like school.
I took my number, slapped a sticker on my cardigan, and waited for the bell to ring. There was no mistaking the loud clanging in my ears. I glanced at my number. Six. I moved swiftly to the table, careful not to get trampled by the hooves of eager centaurs and satyrs.
Lars smiled seductively as I approached. Stars and stones, this guy wasn't wasting a precious second of his six minutes.
"You’re new," he said. "I definitely would remember seeing you here."
So that line made it all the way from dive bars in the human world to the Spellbound dating scene. Some things were better left behind.
"I'm Emma. Nice to meet you." I pulled my cardigan across my chest and was careful not to flirt or smile too openly. Nothing to give him the idea that I was interested. I was biding my time for the wereweasel.
"You have the most piercing green eyes I've ever seen," he said, leaning forward to gaze at me. Despite his best efforts, his words sounded hollow to me, part of his incubus shtick. “I’ve never seen gold flecks like that around the iris."
"Thank you."
He leaned back against his chair, draping his arm casually along the edge of the table. "Now this is the part where you compliment me. Most ladies like to say something about my cheekbones. But I'll leave that up to you."
What a charmer. And here I thought an incubus was supposed to lure women in, not repel them. I suppose this guy relied entirely on his looks.
"I'm good. Thanks."
He looked confused. "We only have four minutes left. Don't you want to be the one to walk out of here with me tonight?"
I choked back laughter. "Like I said, I'm good. Thanks." I hoped Begonia wasn't actually interested in Lars. This was the first real conversation I'd had with an incubus, but I refused to believe that they were all so repulsive.
Anger flashed in his eyes. "Look at this chest," he said, pounding on the taut muscle. “Women worship this. Go on. Touch it.“
I snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “I’ll take
your word for it.”
He cocked his head. “You don’t want to touch it?”
“It is a very nice chest. I'm just not in the market for someone to worship right now." Truth be told, I already worshipped at the altar of a fallen angel. My mantel didn't have room for another idol.
The bell rang and the females jumped up to switch seats. The incubus remained seated, waiting for his next victim. I moved on to table seven. My next ‘date’ was slight in frame, with pointy ears and a friendly smile.
"Thank goodness," I breathed, as I slid into the seat.
The elf chuckled. "I take it you met Lars."
"Is he always like that?"
"Sometimes if my date isn't saying anything, I like to eavesdrop on his conversation. It passes the time."
I laughed. "I hope you don't think you're learning a thing or two from him."
"I'm learning what not to do." His pleasant expression faded. "Although he still seems to walk out of here with someone every week. So I guess it works for him."
The elf seemed sweet. "What's your name?"
"Claude. I know who you are. I think everyone in town knows who you are." He drank water from the glass on the table. “Sorry, I get parched talking at these things. Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
“I imagine you'd be a fascinating person to talk to.” He rested his chin on his fists. “What's it like in the human world? Do you miss it?“
“Have you ever been?" I had no clue about the lifespan of an elf. I knew they weren't immortal, but not much more than that. Another reason I needed to read up on Spellbound.
"I was born here. I've never been in the human world, but I like to read about it. Is it true that there's a body of water so wide, it takes weeks to cross it?"
Claude had never seen the ocean. Granted, I never spent time at the beach, but at least I was familiar with the planet’s geography.
"The oceans are pretty big, yes. The biggest is the Pacific." It felt nice to be the knowledgeable one for a change. Usually, I felt like a toddler attending college.
"Have you been there?" he asked wistfully. "I'd like to see an ocean one day."
Unless the curse on Spellbound was ever broken, there was little chance of that.
"My family tended to avoid the ocean," I said. "My mother drowned when I was three, so bodies of water weren’t in our travel plans.”
He nodded gravely. "That's right. Witches can’t swim." He patted my hand. "I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me."
"Don't worry about it," I said. Claude seemed so nice and normal. Why was it difficult for him to meet someone? "I have two friends with me tonight, Lucy and Begonia. They're both great girls."
He smiled. “You’re really nice, too.”
Oh. I didn't want Claude to think I was interested. "Thanks. You should talk to Begonia. She's the nicest witch in our class. And Lucy is very successful. She’s the assistant to the mayor.”
Claude opened his mouth to say something else, but the sound of the bell cut him off. How many people here were saved by the bell every week?
"It was great to meet you, Claude. Don't be a stranger."
I got up quickly before he could say anything else and moved to table eight. The guy sitting there was not as cute as Claude, but didn’t appear as obnoxious as Lars.
"Mike," he said immediately and shook my hand. "You’re a witch. I can smell it.“
“Yes, I’m Emma. Good to meet you. So far I've met an incubus and an elf. What can I tick off my list now?"
He smiled and his shoulders relaxed. "Wereweasel. We’re not the most common or the most popular of shifters, but we’re a good pack to know."
Finally. My wereweasel. I subtly adjusted my position so that I could play with my hair. According to Begonia, playing with hair was a sign of flirtation.
"I've met werewolves, a werepanther, and a wereferret, but you are definitely the first wereweasel I've met in town. Do you know Ricardo?" Ricardo was the owner of the Ready-to-Were boutique in the town square. Thanks to Lucy’s impeccable taste, it was my go-to shop for clothes. Everything you tried on there fit like a glove and seemed custom-designed for your shape. It was sartorial heaven.
Mike nodded. "I see Ricardo at the pubs now and then. The wereferrets and wereweasels tend to stick together. All the smaller packs do."
I sensed resentment beneath his calm exterior. It must be difficult not being the top of the food chain. The werewolves definitely ruled Spellbound. Size and strength made sure of that.
"So Mike, how often do you come to speed dating?"
Mike gulped his ale. "As often as I can. It's hard to make time to meet someone special."
"What keeps you so busy?" I asked. "Your job?"
"That and I've tried meeting girls in the regular places, but it never seems to pan out. They’re out with their friends and they don't want to be bothered or they’re too shy to talk to you. I like this arrangement because we all know why we’re here."
Well, he didn't know why I was here.
The minutes were ticking away. I had to make an impression so that he asked me out. I wasn’t going to get the information I needed in the remaining minutes.
"I feel like I've barely scratched the surface of Spellbound," I said. "It would be nice to get to know more people. Someone friendly and willing to teach me things." That sounded lame even in my head, but it seemed to do the trick for Mike.
"I'm a pretty awesome teacher," he said, his gaze drifting to my chest. "I'd be happy to tutor you in any area you wanted."
I cringed inwardly. He gave off a slimy vibe and I was feeding right into it. I could understand why girls didn't want to speak to him voluntarily.
I glanced at the clock. One minute left. I had to close the deal.
"I'm available tomorrow night," I said, letting the offer dangle between us.
“I can’t do the next couple of nights. I’ve got a pack meeting and then we have our weekly rodent hunting the night after.”
I swallowed hard. “Night after that then?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven," he said. "You live in that dead vampire’s house, right?"
I bristled. "Yes, his name is Gareth." He wasn't just some dead vampire. It irked me that Mike would refer to him that way. Gareth had been the public defender and a key member of the Spellbound community. No wonder Mike was marginalized. He showed no respect.
“You should ditch the cardigan, by the way,” Mike said. “It makes you look uptight.”
It took every ounce of strength not to give his shin a swift kick under the table. Instead, I smiled and said sweetly, “Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind.”
Chapter 4
Althea tossed a folder onto my desk. “Hide the moonshine. You have a client coming in this afternoon.”
I gave her a blank look. “I don’t have any moonshine.”
“No, but I do.” She gestured over my shoulder. “I keep it in your office because mine gets too warm with the afternoon sun.”
I whipped around and, sure enough, a silver drum was pushed against the wall. “That looks heavy.”
Althea clucked her tongue as she circumvented my desk and proceeded to push the drum with ease.
“Oh, I didn’t see the wheels,” I said. “Who’s the client?”
“His name is Thom Farley. Go easy on him. He's a nice guy."
I flipped through the folder. "What's the crime?"
"Burglary," she said. "He's allegedly been stealing from the home of his ex-girlfriend over the past month. She finally caught him."
"Caught him how?"
"She claims she saw him fleeing the house when she arrived home early from work," Althea said. "It's all in the file."
"How do you know him?" I asked. Althea wasn't exactly bursting with praise and compliments, so if she said he was a nice guy, then he was a nice guy.
"He's a carpenter. I know him through my sister, Amanda."
"The one who makes garden gnomes?" I asked. Althe
a had two Gorgon sisters in Spellbound—Amanda and Miranda.
“Yes, sometimes they work on garden projects together.”
"I hope I can help him," I said. I wasn't feeling very confident, not with everything happening with Sophie. I glanced at the top page. "It says he's a brownie. What is that exactly?"
"Brownies are considered a type of goblin,” Althea said. “But they remind me more of leprechauns.”
At the mention of ‘goblin,’ I shivered. Mumford was a goblin that attacked me when I first arrived in town.
Althea must've sensed my thought process because she quickly jumped in. “He’s nothing like Mumford," she assured me. "Brownies are sociable and helpful. My sister can't say enough good things about Thom and she's known him for years."
I'd bear that in mind in case I needed to call a character witness. "Let me get up to speed on his case then."
She rolled the drum toward her office. “I’ll leave you to it."
I relaxed when the sound of hissing snakes faded away. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to my assistant’s snake-covered head.
I read through Thom's file and then thumbed through the book on burglary on Gareth’s bookshelf. According to the file, Thom had taken at least five items from the home of his ex-girlfriend, but none of them appeared particularly valuable. A vase, a carved horse, a T-shirt, a book of poetry, and a knitted hat. Somehow, I doubted that he intended to sell any of these items on the black market.
By the time Thom arrived, I was as up-to-date as I could be on burglary laws in Spellbound. Thom ambled into my office carrying a walking staff. He was short, although not as short as a dwarf. His chin was so long that it was practically pointy and his rosy cheeks gave him a jolly Santa Claus vibe.
"Come on in, Thom," I said, giving him a warm smile. "Have a seat."
Thom leaned his walking staff on his chair before sitting down.
"Do you actually need that staff to walk? Or is it just a fashion accessory?" I asked.
"It's the mark of a brownie," he said. "It's one way of identifying us out on the street. Most of us carry one. No real need for it other than tradition." He handed me the stick. “I carved it myself.”
I touched the intricate leaf pattern on the length of wood. “It’s beautiful, Thom. You’re very talented.”
Spell's Bells (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 3