He beamed with pride as I returned his staff.
"So I understand you’ve run into some trouble with the law," I said. "Care to tell me your side of the story?" I liked to hear my client's version of events in their own words. More often than not, I learned a critical fact that wasn't in the file.
"I wasn't stealing anything," he said. "It's bad enough that Lara chucked me. Now she has to go making my life miserable by accusing me of this ridiculous crime. Who steals a book?”
“Lara is your ex-girlfriend?"
He nodded and a shadow passed across his jolly features. "Together for two years, we were. Happy as two horns on a minotaur's head."
"So what happened?"
His pointy jaw tensed. "One day, out of the blue, she told me she didn't love me anymore. That she was sorry, but the relationship was over. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Can you imagine saying that to someone you spent the last two years of your life with?"
I couldn't, but then again, I’d never been in a serious relationship. “Was there an inciting incident? A big fight that precipitated the breakup or maybe someone else?"
He grunted. "There’s someone else for her now, although she swears he wasn't in the picture when she dumped me."
"So if she broke up with you, why would she lie about you stealing from her? What purpose does it serve?"
He stroked his chin. "Who knows? Lara tended to be emotional. She's a pixie, after all. They’re known for their tempers."
That was the first time someone mentioned a pixie's temper. I'd have to confirm the information.
"The only way it makes sense to me that she falsely accused you is if you’d done something to cause the breakup," I said. "If she broke up with you in anger, then I could understand her need for some kind of revenge." Although it seemed to me she could've done better than the items listed in the file. Could she not have accused him of stealing jewelry or something of value?
"I work a lot of hours. She was always complaining about the fact that I wasn't around enough."
“You have your own carpentry business, right?"
He nodded. "It's my passion. I love to work with my hands and build things from scratch. There’s no substitute for working with wood. You can make miracles with it." I heard the note of pride in his voice and it warmed me. It was encouraging when people took pride in their work.
"What types of things do you make? Furniture?"
"I'll take on commission projects. Someone will ask me for a certain sized table or a chair. They might request that it look a certain way. The best days are when I get to do my own creations. I love having a vision and carving it into reality."
"I can see why you spend so much time at your job," I said. "What does Lara do?"
"She’s a teacher at the local high school."
"Which subject does she teach?"
"English literature," he replied.
"It says in the file that one of the items you stole was a book of poetry. Do you know anything about that?"
"Do I look like the type of guy who recites poems?” he asked. “I work with my hands. I don't go in for that namby-pamby stuff. That's all Lara."
So Thom was jolly but not romantic. Got it. “Then how do you explain the fact that the sheriff found these items in your house."
The rose of his cheeks deepened. "I don't know how they got there. Lara must've snuck into my house when I wasn't home and hidden them to frame me."
“Who’s her new boyfriend?"
"Some yokel at the high school. Another teacher." He shuddered. "He teaches physical education. Can you imagine? She'd rather be with someone who blows a whistle for a living than with someone who creates art. I can’t believe I never realized how shallow she is.“
Okay, maybe Thom was more romantic than I’d given him credit for. "Do you know the gym teacher’s name?"
"He's a nymph called Petros. Guy even has a beard. How do you go from skin as smooth as a baby’s bum to one as scratchy as a hestleberry bush?"
"I don't know, Thom. How about you? Have you met anyone new?"
Thom folded his arms. “Absolutely not. I'm sticking with my one true love. Woodworking. I spend more time in my workshop now than I did when I was with Lara and I love every minute of it.”
He was hurt badly. I got the sense that his workshop served as a retreat from the world. Sadly, I understood the impetus all too well. After my father died, I wanted to spend all my free time in my bedroom. My grandparents forced me to go to school, but they couldn’t get me to do much else. It took a long time for me to want to reengage with the world.
"I'm sure you already know this, but there’s speed dating every Thursday at Cupid’s Arrow. Maybe you'd consider showing up one night." I didn’t want Thom to waste his life wallowing in self-pity.
"I think it's best to wait until after this trial, don't you?" He grinned at me. "Unless you’re that confident in your skills."
“Fair enough. How about we make a deal? If I manage to keep you out of prison, then you'll agree to give speed dating a try.”
He stood and shook my hand. “Miss Hart, you have yourself a deal.”
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” I said.
Although Lars didn’t leave with Begonia the night of speed dating, he did ask her out to dinner. She was too nervous to go alone, so she convinced me to join them. I had a hard time saying no to Begonia’s puppy dog eyes. I invited Claude to come along since he was the nicest guy I met at speed dating, though I tried to make it clear from the outset that he was strictly in the friend zone.
“Because you’re a good friend,” Begonia whispered, as the hostess seated us.
Dragon’s Lair was a quaint restaurant tucked down a side street near the town square. The interior had an Asian vibe with splashes of red and gold and a mural of dragons on the wall. I was relieved to see that many of the menu choices were familiar. Sometimes I felt like Spellbound menus required a translator.
“I hear you’re defending Thom Farley,” Claude said.
“I am. Do you know him?”
“A little,” Claude replied. “He made a crib for my nephew. My brother and his wife raved over it.”
Lars scrunched his nose at the mention of a crib. “Babies are the kiss of death for a relationship.”
Begonia inclined her head. “How can you say that? I know lots of happily married couples with kids. My parents are just as in love today as the day they married.”
“That’s what they want you to think,” Lars said. “I guarantee you they’re looking sideways at other people.”
I couldn’t tell whether this was a general incubus attitude or the world according to Lars.
“I’m with Begonia,” Claude said. “My parents are together and my brother and his wife are very happy. If anything, their baby brought them closer together.”
Lars stuck his nose in the menu, effectively tuning us out.
“What about your parents?” Claude asked me. “Are they together?”
Emotions stirred within me. It was difficult to talk about my parents at the best of times. “They were definitely happy together.”
“Emma’s mom died when she was little,” Begonia said.
Claude smacked his forehead. “Dragons alive, you told me that. How stupid of me. It must have been hell for you and your dad.”
“If it hadn’t been for me, I don’t think my father would have made an effort to get up in the mornings.” And sometimes he didn’t.
“Did he remarry?” Claude asked.
I shook my head. “He died when I was seven. I was raised by his parents.”
Claude whistled softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“That’s okay. I know it’s hard to say for sure, but I bet they’d still be together today, had they lived.” I truly believed that.
“Does everyone know what they want?” Lars asked.
“I’m ready,” Begonia said.
Lars tapped his menu and I realiz
ed it was the same magical ordering system as Moonshine, a restaurant I’d visited with Demetrius. We tapped our menu items and the order was transmitted to the kitchen.
“What did you order?” Begonia asked Lars.
“A roasted chicken sprinkled with pixie dust. It gives it that extra kick. I don’t like it bland.”
I was still on the fence. “How about you, Begonia?”
“Prime rib cooked rare.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the incubus stiffen. Claude and I placed our orders at the same time, while Lars excused himself to use the restroom.
"He's super cute, right?" Begonia asked, once he was gone.
"Absolutely," I said. He wasn't my type, but I could see the allure.
“He must like you,” Claude said to Begonia. “It seems to me he usually doesn’t make much of an effort.”
We continued to chat and our drinks floated over within ten minutes. By the time our meals arrived, Lars still had not returned.
"Do you think he’s ill in the bathroom?" I asked. I looked at Claude. "Would you mind checking on him?"
"No problem," he said. He returned after a few minutes, frowning. "He's not in there."
Begonia and I exchanged surprised looks. Her cheeks reddened and I was fairly certain she was about to cry.
"Stay here," I said. "I'll go look for him."
"Don't be silly," Begonia objected. "He's my date. I should look for him."
"But your dinner tastes better warm. Mine doesn't matter." I smiled. "I'll be right back. I promise."
I hurried from the restaurant and looked up and down the cobblestone street for any sign of the incubus. As I was straining to see in the darkness, I heard a familiar voice.
“Emma, what are you doing out here?”
I turned to see Lucy, her pink wings glowing in the darkness. "I'm looking for Lars. He was having dinner with us, but he disappeared."
"I don't suppose you have your broomstick with you," Lucy said.
I placed a hand on my hip. "It's past sundown, so I'm not allowed to fly. Not that I would anyway. You know how I feel about that."
Lucy giggled. "Sorry, I keep thinking you'll grow out of it. If you want, I can do a quick zip around the block."
"That would be great. Begonia is inside eating dinner and I know she's concerned."
"Be back in a jiffy." Lucy's wings increased speed tenfold and she was gone in a flash. She returned three minutes later, gripping Lars under the shoulders and dropping him at my feet. I couldn't help but laugh. The petite fairy had the strength of a dozen men.
"He wasn't planning to come back," Lucy said, giving him a dirty look. "Why don't you tell Emma what you told me?"
Lars pulled himself to his feet and raked his fingers through his slick hair. "I was trying to be nice about it."
"You ran off into the night in the middle of the date," I said heatedly. "On what planet is that being nice?"
Lars scoffed at me. "I didn't want to humiliate her."
"What did I miss? The date seemed to be going well."
"It was, until she ordered prime rib. And rare." He shuddered.
"You're a vegetarian?" I queried.
"No, I love prime rib, but it’s so unattractive for her to want it. And to order it rare? She may as well be a vampire." He made a slicing gesture with his arm. “Complete turnoff.”
So Lars had very specific ideas about women. "You don't just abandon someone in the middle of a date," I said. "Begonia had no idea why you left."
"I'll let you tell her," he said. "I spotted a hot pixie around the block before I was snatched up by psychofairy here.” He jerked his chin toward Lucy. "I'll bet you twenty gold coins I won't see her ordering prime rib."
He stalked off and Lucy gave me a questioning look. "Do you want me to go after him?"
I shook my head. “Begonia is better off. I'll explain it to her." With kid gloves.
When I returned to the table, Begonia and Claude were so deep in conversation, they barely noticed my arrival.
Begonia blinked at me, finally registering my presence. "Did you find him?"
"I did. Turns out he wasn't feeling well," I lied. I had to spare her feelings. "It doesn't matter, though. He’s not the guy for you."
I felt Begonia’s foot press on top of mine. "I really need the restroom. You need to go to, don't you?"
I took the pressure of her foot as a sign that I did, indeed, need to go too.
We pushed back our chairs. "Be back in a minute," I said. "Sorry."
Begonia tucked her arm through mine and guided me to the restroom. Once we were safely behind closed doors, she whipped around and grabbed me by the shoulders. "How much do you like your date? You don't really like him, do you? Because you not-so-secretly like Daniel, right?"
I shook my head. "Whoa, Begonia. Slow down. What's the matter? Was he rude while I was looking for Lars?"
Her expression turned dreamy. "Not at all. Actually, we were having a really great conversation about our cats. Turns out he loves cats.” She hesitated. “I’m thinking…Is it okay if I go out with him another time?"
It took a moment for me to register her request. She was asking to date my date. I broke into a broad smile.
"Holy date stealer, I would absolutely love it if you went out with him. He seems really nice." In truth, I was overjoyed. I had no interest in Claude, and Begonia had quickly become one of my best friends. "By all means, date, get married, have many babies. Thom will make you a crib. You have my blessing."
Begonia squealed and pinched the skin on my arms. "Thank you so much. You’re the best."
I glanced at the empty stalls. "We don't really need to use the restroom, do we?"
Begonia shrugged. "We may as well, since we’re here."
Female logic. There was nothing like it.
Chapter 5
I chose the next afternoon to follow up on Maeve’s suggestion and speak with Agnes, the former head of the coven. My palms were sweaty on the wheel as I drove Sigmund across town to the Spellbound Care Home. The home was on the outskirts of town, past the church and the Mayor’s Mansion to the east. The building was nondescript, especially compared with the charming nature of the downtown area. It reminded me of drab 1970’s architecture. For the sake of the inhabitants, I hoped the interior was more cheerful.
I plucked the bag of chocolates and the bottle of Fangtastic from the passenger seat and headed inside. A young pixie greeted me from behind the reception desk. She looked like a fairy, except her wings were smaller and her ears were slightly pointed like an elf’s.
"Hello, my name is Emma Hart. I’m the new public defender in town."
The pixie brightened. "Oh my gosh. You’re the new witch! I can’t believe it. This is so exciting."
It wasn’t the first time I’d felt like a celebrity in Spellbound.
"A member of the council suggested that I come here to speak with Agnes," I said. “Is she available?"
The pixie frowned. "We don't normally let unrelated visitors through without the consent of the resident.”
“Does Agnes ever have any visitors? I was under the impression that she had no family members." I sighed deeply. "I guess that will be me someday. Cut off from society because I have no family. It’s tragic, really.“
Although I was exaggerating for the pixie’s benefit, there was a ring of truth to my statement. I had no family in Spellbound. Unless I eventually married and had children, the Spellbound Care Home was my future. It was a sobering thought.
The pixie cast a furtive glance around the lobby. No one else was within earshot.
"She's in room 151," the pixie whispered. "Be careful with her, though. She may be old, but she’s sharp as a vampire’s fang."
"Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."
The pixie buzzed me in and I walked through the barrier and down the long corridor until I reached room 151. The door was ajar, but I decided to knock anyway. If she wasn't accustomed to visitors, I had no
clue what state I’d find her in.
"Go away, Silas," a voice croaked. "If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, I am not interested in your man parts today.”
I poked my head inside. “Um, excuse me. Are you Agnes?"
The old woman sat at a table beside her bed. She was in the middle of dealing cards. Magical solitaire? The cards were different than anything I'd ever seen. Instead of jacks, kings, and queens, there were werewolves, vampires, and witches.
The old woman studied me carefully. "Who are you? You don't work here."
"No, I'm a visitor."
"Then what are you doing in here? Get on with your visit." She turned her attention back to her cards.
"Actually, I'm here to visit you. Maeve McCullen recommended that I speak with you."
That seemed to get her attention. She leaned back in her chair. "The banshee sent you, eh? And why should I speak with you?"
I held up the bottle of Fangtastic and shook the bag of chocolates. "I come bearing gifts."
Her wrinkled face produced a smile. Her teeth were yellowed and pointy. She reminded me of the old witch in the forest, the one you imagined trying to eat Hansel and Gretel—very unlike the elegant yet intimidating Lady Weatherby.
"How did you manage to sneak those in?" She eyed me with a mixture of admiration and suspicion.
"To be honest, I'm a little bit of a celebrity in town. I just walked in with them."
"A celebrity, eh?” She tapped her long and twisted fingernails on the table. The sound made my skin crawl, but I remained still, wanting to win her approval. If she was the person who had information on my background, then I needed to do whatever it took to get her to open up.
"Set them here," she said.
"Not until you've answered a few of my questions," I said. If she was as wily as everyone said, I wasn't about to hand over the contraband without getting a few answers first.
The old witch chuckled. "All right then. What is it that you need to know? I'm guessing it has something to do with your coven."
My eyebrows shot up. She could tell I was from a different coven just by looking at me? Maybe she really would have answers.
Spell's Bells (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 4