Spell's Bells (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Annabel Chase

  I blew the steam from my latte. “The gossip mill here never ceases to amaze me. Who told you?”

  She laughed. “Your owl.”

  I scowled. My own familiar was responsible for sharing the details of my personal life? Sedgwick and I would be having a tense conversation later.

  “That’s sort of the reason I wanted to meet with you.” I sucked the foam off the top of my drink. Always the best part. “My date was Mike.”

  “Our wereweasel witness? That’s a coincidence.”

  “Not really.” So Sheriff Hugo had chosen not to share the confession with his deputy. Typical. “I slipped a truth powder into his drink and he admitted that he’d made up the story about seeing Sophie with Freddie.”

  Astrid rolled her eyes. “What a little weasel.”

  “Exactly. Apparently, he was annoyed with Sophie for rejecting his advances, so he thought framing her was the ideal way to express his displeasure.”

  Astrid’s nostrils flared. “I’ll make sure Sheriff Hugo wipes his statement from the investigation. And he’s lucky I don’t wipe up the floor with him. If he so much as gets a parking ticket, he’ll regret it.”

  I knew I could count on Astrid. “Thanks. I should warn you, though. I’d already given the information to Sheriff Hugo days ago.”

  Astrid pressed her lips together. “I see.”

  “Sophie is the sweetest person in Spellbound. I’ve hated seeing her stressed about this.” And Mike was a loser who deserved to spend an hour trapped in a room with Lady Weatherby. Maybe I could arrange that…

  “I’ll make sure he gives the confession the attention it deserves. Don’t think for one second he’ll remove Sophie from the top of his suspect list, though,” Astrid warned. “She’s still the one he found in front of the coffin with her wand out.”

  “I know.” And I knew how the sheriff operated. Lazy mode.

  “You’ll be pleased to know that the sheriff has been willing to consider other theories,” Astrid said. She sipped her coffee and smiled. “If nothing else, you seem to have convinced him to up his game.”

  “Really?” A shred of good news.

  “Well, he’d still rather golf than follow up on a lead, but he’s making more of an effort. Just yesterday he went to see Pandora.”

  “The matchmaker?”

  Astrid nodded. “It seems that Freddie was a client.”

  I’d completely forgotten about Pandora. Estella told me that he’d had a date thanks to the matchmaker.

  “It seems Freddie was involved in speed dating and a matchmaking service,” Astrid said. “Talk about desperate for a love connection.”

  Some people crocheted or learned to play the harp. Apparently, Freddie’s hobby was looking for love.

  “Why do you think he was so invested in finding a girlfriend?” I asked. He didn’t strike me as particularly old.

  Astrid gave me a rueful smile. “Don’t we all want to find that special someone?”

  “I guess.” I sighed inwardly. What if I’d already found my special someone but just couldn’t have him?

  Astrid drained the remaining coffee from her mug. “His sister is married with kids. His father is dead and his mother’s in the care home. He probably felt it was time to make his own family.”

  I understood the desire all too well. “He has friends, though. People who matter to him.” Sometimes friends made the best family members.

  Astrid set down her mug and chuckled. “Heidi. She’s been checking in with us every day to see what’s new in the investigation. I think she’s driving the sheriff a little nuts.”

  “Not a difficult thing to do,” I said.

  “I think she may have replaced you as the sharpest fang in his side at the moment. Last time she dropped by, he pretended to have someone in his office.”

  I shrugged. “Not to worry. I’ll be sure to reclaim my crown soon enough.”

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of this soon,” Astrid said. “The longer Freddie remains unconscious, the harder the spell will be to break.”

  I rolled up my sleeves, my jaw set. It was time to pay a visit to a matchmaker.

  To be honest, I was a little embarrassed to be seen heading into Pandora's office. Although it was silly, I didn't want anyone to think I needed a matchmaker in order to meet someone. Granted, most of Spellbound knew that I’d rejected Demetrius Hunt’s advances, so they knew I was capable of attracting a member of the opposite sex.

  The bell jingled softly as I entered the building. The interior was not what I expected. While the chairs and coffee table were typical of an office, the style was pure luxury. The sofa was covered in crushed velvet and the chairs were soft and inviting, laden with sparkling throw pillows. The top of the coffee table was glass and the brass legs were shaped like giant leaves. The room belonged in a Las Vegas casino.

  Pandora was not what I expected either. I knew she was a nymph and friendly with many of the town’s more esteemed residents. She was meeting with a client when I arrived. Her office was set off from the rest of the room by a glass wall. Although I could see inside, I couldn't hear their conversation. I sat on the plush sofa and waited my turn. After about thirty minutes, the glass door finally opened and the client stepped into the room. I didn't recognize him, but his fangs made him easily identifiable. He was attractive, not as scorching hot as Demetrius, but still. I wondered why he felt the need for a matchmaker. I must've been staring at him because he flashed me a smile.

  "Good day to you, Miss Hart," he said.

  He knew me? Despite my celebrity claims, I was surprised that he actually was able to put a face to a name. Maybe he was friendly with Demetrius.

  “Hi,” I managed to squeak.

  Pandora waved to me from behind her gleaming silver desk. I rose from the sofa and entered the fishbowl.

  Pandora smiled at me. She was pretty in a crisp sort of way, with cropped silver hair and a flawless complexion. She wore a simple black dress and the matching suit jacket was lined with glittering gemstones.

  “Emma Hart. I must admit, I never expected to see you in here. You are on every eligible bachelor’s shortlist. Don't you know that?"

  I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. "That’s nice to know, I guess. I'm not actually here about me, though."

  "That's a shame," Pandora said. "I could have you on a date every night of the week if you're interested." She gave me a coy look. "You’d never have to pay for a meal again."

  Given my culinary skills, the offer was mildly appealing.

  "Just out of curiosity," I said, "why would a vampire like that guy need your services?"

  Pandora glanced at the now empty room. "Killian Muldoon. Such a nice guy. It's a mystery why he has trouble meeting anyone. That's why we’re setting up an evaluation."

  "An evaluation?" I echoed. "What does that involve?"

  "I arrange a date with an enthusiastic young woman," Pandora explained. "I observe the date and get feedback from the young woman afterward. Then we present Killian with a list of suggested improvements."

  "He must be hundreds of years old," I said. "Hasn't he had plenty of experience?"

  "He wants to be in a relationship. Vampires like Demetrius Hunt, for example…” Her brow rose suggestively. "They’re not interested in a relationship. They want the action but not the quiet moments. Killian wants it all. Generally, if a vampire wants that kind of life, he gets it. So there's obviously a disconnect between what Killian is saying and what he's doing."

  "Isn't it possible that it's just intimidating for young women to know that she’s in a relationship with an immortal?"

  "I would agree with you," Pandora said, "except for the fact that he hasn't been able to attract a vampire mate either. He wants to spend eternity with someone and it's my job to make that happen."

  Well, I guess it was nice that she took her role seriously. When you live in the same town as all of your clients, that's probably an incentive to get it right the first time.

 
"So if you’re not here for yourself, why are you here?"

  "It's my understanding that you arranged a date for Freddie. I was hoping you could tell me more about it."

  Pandora chewed her lip. "I spoke to Sheriff Hugo about this already. Are you sure you want to follow in his hooves? From what I've heard, that's become your specialty."

  "I'm glad to hear he’s spoken with you," I said. "I was concerned that he would only focus his attention on Sophie."

  Pandora smiled gently. "I must say, it cheers me that you've bonded with members of the coven. I like loyalty in a person." She blew out a regretful breath. "But I must tell you what I told the sheriff. My client files are confidential. Freddie is still alive, therefore, his file remains confidential. The same goes for the young woman he met through me. She has a right to confidentiality, too.”

  "You're not a medical professional or a lawyer," I said. "Why should your confidentiality agreement trump a criminal investigation?" I knew rules were different in Spellbound, but that seemed ridiculous.

  "It would destroy my business if clients believed I would hand over their personal information at the drop of a wand,” she said. “Spellbound has rules to protect businesses. We don’t have the luxury of upping sticks and reopening in another town.”

  I squinted at her. "But you just divulged to me the reason Killian was here. Isn't that confidential information that you voluntarily shared?"

  Pandora gave me an approving smile. "You’re smart. I like that. In truth, I was hoping you might show an interest in him. That's the only reason I told you about him. I figured perhaps Demetrius was too much of a player and you were looking for someone more…permanent."

  An idea began to take shape. "What if I became your client? Would you be at liberty to share information about potential matches with me?"

  “If you’ll fill out this questionnaire, we can get started immediately.” She slid a paper and quill across the desk.

  I skimmed the disclaimers and initialed next to the fee. It wasn’t as expensive as I anticipated.

  "I'll give you this file on one condition." Pandora's fingers pressed down on the folder.

  "What's the condition?"

  "I need you to go on a date with one of my clients."

  "Don't you need to arrange dates for all of your clients?" I asked. "Isn't that basically your job?"

  Pandora smiled. "You don't understand. He’s a long-standing client and I haven't had much luck matching him to anyone."

  My skin began to crawl. Was I about to agree to go out with a hideous monster?

  "What's wrong with him?"

  "Absolutely nothing. That's the problem. He is intimidating to women and he has very high standards on top of that." She shook her head. "It makes for a very difficult client."

  "If he’s that picky," I said, "what makes you think he’ll agree to go out with me?"

  "Are you kidding me? You'd be the most hotly requested client on my roster."

  It wasn't the first time I'd been told that. It made sense. When you were surrounded by the same people day in and day out for eternity, the new person was as rare as a unicorn and equally desirable.

  "If your client agrees to go out with me, then it's a deal." It was a no-brainer.

  "I'll send an owl his way," she said. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear from him, but I'm sure it will be a go."

  "Can you tell me anything about him?"

  "His name is Fabio," she said, and I nearly choked on my tongue. "He's a shifter, a werelion."

  "Let me guess," I said. "He’s best known for his luxurious mane.”

  Pandora tilted her head and squinted. "How did you know? Have you met him?"

  "No, but I'm really looking forward to it."

  “Excellent.” Pandora rifled through the folders on her desk. "Look at this. I may have someone else of interest to you.” She set a folder in front of me. “How do you feel about dwarfs?"

  I smiled. “Love ‘em. Tell me everything there is to know."

  I sat in my office, perusing Freddie’s file. It turned out he’d been on a string of dates before his coma. Remembering what Estella told me, I decided to start with his most recent date and work in reverse.

  Althea entered the office with a watering can.

  “Are these plants for your benefit or mine?” I asked, staring at the three plants on the windowsill.

  “They were for Gareth’s benefit and I got in the habit of taking care of them,” she replied. She poured water into the soil and watched as it settled.

  “He doesn’t have plants in his house. Why have them here?”

  “He spent most of his time here,” she said. “I think the plants were a reminder of what it was like to be alive.” She glanced quickly around the room. “He’s not with you, is he?” Althea knew about Gareth’s ghost, although she couldn’t see him.

  “No, I’ve been out most of the day.”

  “What do you suppose he does stuck in that house all day?” she asked. The hiss of her snakes drew my attention to her headscarf. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the presence of snakes in my office.

  “Raids my underwear drawer,” I said. Or he would, if he could figure out how to move objects.

  Althea smiled. “Why do I get the sense that your underwear isn’t girly enough for him?”

  “Good point.” I held up a paper in the file. “Do you know a young fairy named Cecily?”

  Althea placed a hand on her ample hip. “You’re asking the wrong Gorgon, girl. I don’t socialize with anyone under the age of thirty.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because at that age, they care too much what others think. By the time they’re my age, they let their hair down and embrace their true selves.” She winked at me. “That’s much more fun to be around.”

  The thought of Althea letting her hair down made me shudder. All those snakes. Brrr.

  “Are you chilly?” she asked. “You should keep a sweater in here. I always have a cardigan on the back of my chair.”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” No need to say that her snakes creeped me out. That seemed rude.

  “You remind me so much of Gareth,” she said with a laugh and I froze.

  “I remind you of Gareth?” On what planet did I remind her of a gay Scottish vampire ghost?

  “You both want to be ‘fine’ all the time. He never wanted help either. Always had to do everything himself.” She paused, remembering. “Sometimes it was hard to justify my existence here.”

  “I ask for help when I need it,” I argued.

  “Is that so?” She pressed her palms against my desk and leaned forward to inspect the file. “What’s that you’re reading? Freddie’s dating file?”

  I closed the folder. “Sophie needs my help. Sheriff Hugo will pin this on her if he can get away with it.”

  “One of these days the sheriff is going to cross the line,” Althea said.

  “One of these days?” I echoed. “I think he crosses the line every day. I can’t believe the residents put up with his shoddy work. It’s offensive.”

  Althea suppressed a smile. “Like I said, you and Gareth are like two wings on the back of a Pegasus.”

  “Hold down the fort,” I said. “I’m going to see if I can find this fairy at the salon where she works. She may have information about Freddie.”

  “If you need any help,” Althea called, “don’t hesitate to ask. That’s why I’m here, even though you both seem to forget that fact.”

  I missed the last part of her sentence because I was already out the door.

  Chapter 11

  According to the file, Cecily worked at Glow. The salon was nestled in the righthand corner of the town square, next to Taffy’s candy shop. I hadn’t been to the salon yet. My hair tended to grow very slowly and, in the human world, I never had enough money for extras like massages or manicures.

  I marveled at the interior of the salon. Enchantment was everywhere I looked. Colorful tools floated in mid-air and the whole r
oom seemed dusted in sparkles. A pair of hot pink scissors worked their way around the edges of a gnome’s hair, while a hose danced above another customer’s head, ready to rinse. If the jobs were magically automated, what did a stylist do here?

  A fairy fluttered toward me, a lemon yellow wand in her hand. “Welcome to Glow. Have you been here before?”

  “Uh, no,” I replied, still unable to focus. The ambience was overwhelming.

  “I’ll bet you’re here for a massage,” she said, offering a sympathetic smile. “You look like you need to relax.”

  “Well, actually…”

  “I’ll tell you what. Cecily had a cancellation, so she has an opening right now.” She began to steer me toward the back room.

  Cecily was a masseuse? Instead of resisting, I allowed the fairy to guide me to the massage alcove.

  “Can I offer you a ziggleberry infusion while you’re waiting?” the fairy asked. “It’s wonderfully hydrating.”

  “No, thank you.” With my kernel-sized bladder, I’d need to pee five minutes into the massage.

  “Cecily will be with you in a moment.” The fairy pointed to a fluffy robe. “Feel free to use the dressing room and change into the robe. Trust me, you’ve never worn anything so comfortable.”

  I waited until she left to duck into the dressing room. Was I really planning to interrogate a potential suspect while she gave me a massage? I slipped off my clothes and pulled on the robe.

  The fairy was right. It was like wearing a cloud.

  “Miss? Are you ready?”

  Cecily hovered outside the dressing room door. She was a petite fairy with green wings and matching green eyes. Although the front of her hair was black, the part in a ponytail was bright white.

  “You must be Cecily,” I said. “I’m Emma.”

  “Happy to have you.” She looked me up and down. “It’s a good thing you’re here. The stress is rolling off of you. The way you hold your shoulders, so rigid—do you suffer from frequent headaches?”

  Her remark only served to make me more rigid. It was the equivalent of telling someone to smile. It only made the person want to frown more.