by Nova Nelson
“Just want to place an order to-go, actually. And is Jane in?”
“Yes.”
“May I speak with her?”
The hostess’s gentle childlike demeanor transitioned rapidly into the teenage skepticism I’d always appreciated. “Uh, are you sure you want to?”
I laughed. “Yes, I’m sure.”
She gave a suit-yourself shrug. “What’s your name, so I can let her know?”
“Nora Ashcroft.”
The recognition was immediate.
I always thought having my reputation precede me would be kind of cool. But as it turns out, it was a little creepy and unsettling.
“Oh, you’re Nora?”
“Yep.”
“I heard about you.”
Obviously. “From who?”
“My uncle. He said you came by where he worked and started asking questions about Bruce Saxon.”
“Ah. Ansel? He’s your uncle?”
She nodded.
“And what’s your name?”
“Greta.”
“Nice to meet you, Greta. Do I order from you, or …?”
“At the bar,” she said, visibly more relaxed now that we’d exchanged names.
I may not know how to use a wand or cast spells, but the affability that simply asking for a person’s name can conjure might as well be a magic trick.
“I’ll tell Jane to find you there.”
“Great. Thanks, Greta.”
Much to my superficial delight, the sexy bartender was working away, waving his wand around like some Hogwarts alum as a bottle of red wine glided over three glasses, pouring into each without a drop spilled.
I admit, in that moment, I had serious wand envy.
I took the last empty chair at the bar and smiled at him when he glanced my way.
He looked right past me.
I chalked it up to the amount of focus such magical multitasking required until his eyes locked onto something over my shoulder and shouted, “Pablo! Good to see you!” while waving with his non-wand hand.
When he glanced my way again a few moments later, I cleared my throat and raised a finger casually signal that I needed service.
Again, no dice.
“Excuse me,” I finally called, agitated. I hadn’t planned on grabbing a drink this early in the day, but if he kept ignoring me, I would definitely want a glass of wine. Or better yet, a couple fingers of whiskey.
Oh no. Did they have whiskey in Eastwind?
They had leprechauns, right? Undeniably stereotypical leprechauns, nonetheless. They had to have whiskey, or something just like it, right?
“What do you need, Nora?” the deep, smooth voice yanked me out of my alcoholic concerns, and I focused on Sexy Bartender, who’d finally decided to acknowledge my existence.
“You know my name?”
“Of course. You’re the one who got Tanner arrested.”
“I did not,” I insisted.
“Sure, whatever.” He continued flicking his wand around, and empty glasses on the bar floated into a bucket of soapy water.
“I want to place an order to-go.”
“Aww, so sad you’re not staying,” he said flatly.
“I don’t know that I like you.”
“Does that mean I can expect Sheriff Bloom to show up here and arrest me sometime soon, too?”
My response got tangled up in my throat, which was probably for the best since it was composed entirely of four-letter words.
“Nora.”
(No, my name wasn’t one of them.)
Jane sauntered up, smiling. “Good to see you back here so soon.”
I should have said hello and mentioned that the lasagna was too good to stay away, but instead I said, “Did you know your bartender is kind of a jerk?”
Her eyes jumped to him then back to me. “Yes.”
“Oh. Well, um, he’s refusing to serve me.”
“Am not,” he said. “You never placed an order.”
“Because you never asked me what I wanted!”
“Donovan,” she said smoothly, “we like Nora, okay?”
He shrugged in a petulant way that would’ve looked more natural on Greta than a grown man. “I don’t care about her either way, to be honest. She’s just Tanner’s little crush who got him arrested, far as I’m concerned.”
The accusation bounced right off me this time, because, um, hold the phones—I was “Tanner’s little crush”? Did Donovan know that for sure, or was he just assuming?
“She’s also the person,” Jane countered, “who’s working her butt off to solve my ex-husband’s murder and thereby get Tanner out of custody, so I’d appreciate if you checked that annoyingly sexy, tortured attitude at the host stand, you hear?”
Donovan appeared cowed, and I’m not ashamed to admit I enjoyed seeing it.
He didn’t look at Jane as he said, “Yeah, I hear.”
“Now get her a drink on the house.” She nodded at me. “What’s your potion?”
I scanned the setup of bottles, but none of them were labeled. “Do you have whiskey?”
Jane grinned. “Boy, do we.”
“I could do with a nice winter whiskey cocktail.”
Jane nodded approvingly. “Donovan, get her a spiced yeti, and use the Sheehan twelve-year whiskey.” She nodded at me. “And to eat?”
“A lasagna to-go, please.” My stomach growled. Oh right. I guess I should get myself something. “Make it two.”
“Two?” She sounded impressed, but I knew she misunderstood.
“Not both for me. One for me, and one for Grim.”
“Your familiar?”
“Yeah, the big black dog out there staring pitifully through the window, hoping it’ll earn him some scraps.”
“Donovan,” she hollered. “Put in an order for two lasagnas to-go.”
He bit back whatever sulky response was struggling to free itself from his thick, perfect lips, and scrawled the order in the air with his wand, wispy cursive tracers following the movements.
“Taking good care of that dog, huh?” Jane asked.
“Well, he did me a solid at the sheriff’s office earlier.” More like a liquid.
“I like dog people,” she said. “I’m one myself.”
The corners of her mouth twitched, and when I caught her double meaning, I wasn’t able to hold back the laughter, and as I erupted, so did she.
The fairy servers flit around from table to table, and as I watched, my mind returned to why I had actually come here, aside from my deal with Grim. “I have a favor to ask, Jane.”
“Yes?” Her demeanor tightened. She probably wasn’t used to people asking her for favors. She didn’t exactly radiate warmth.
“You said you had a friend who works at Echo’s Salon, right?”
“Yeah, Hyacinth Bouquet.”
I leaned forward to avoid being overheard. “Do you think you could get her to spread a bit of hand-crafted gossip around the salon?”
“I don’t think I could stop her from doing it, honestly.”
“Perfect.”
Donovan slammed my cocktail down on the bar in front of me then disappeared again.
When Jane opened her mouth to scold him, I held up a hand. “Let him sulk. I don’t care.” The warm glass in my hand relaxed me, and that first sip … Oh holy smokes.
I mean, literally. The smokiness was divine. I knew enough about cocktails to credit that to the whiskey at the heart of the drink. There had to be magic involved in the distillation process. And lots of it.
I took another sip. Then help up the glass to inspect it. My guess was whiskey, warmed cream, cinnamon, cloves and—I took another sip—was that a splash of maple syrup?
It could have been a splash of Grim’s pee, and I still would’ve drunk it.
Well, okay, maybe that’s too far.
But you get the picture.
“Good?” asked Jane.
“If whiskey tasted this good where I came from, it would immedi
ately be made illegal.”
“I hope I never end up where you came from, then.” She allowed me another moment of silence with my drink before jumping in. “So what do you need me to feed to Hyacinth?”
“Oh right. That.” It all seemed so unimportant now that the spiced yeti was in my life. But, like a champ, I pushed through. “I need it to get around that I know who the murderer is and that I’m going to speak with Sheriff Bloom about it first thing in the morning. Also, it’s crucial that people think I already have the evidence.”
Jane’s eyes opened wide. “Do you? Know who the murder is, I mean.”
I nodded subtly. “Yes.” I looked around the room. Who knew what sort of creatures around here had super hearing. I couldn’t risk it. “But I shouldn’t say just yet. Can you make sure Hyacinth hears about this before the salon closes for the evening? It’s vitally important that it has enough time to make it around.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said, waving me off. “Rumors don’t need time to spread at Echo’s. It’s in one ear out the mouth. Stemming the flow is a trick all the witches in Eastwind couldn’t pull off even if they put their wands together. By the way, why don’t you have a wand? You’re a witch, right?”
“I’m actually not sure where I stand on the whole wand thing. Or the witch thing.”
“You should probably figure that out,” she suggested.
“Your lips to God’s ears.” I finished my cocktail just as a raven-haired fairy flew out of the kitchen carrying a to-go bag with the food. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of the gold coins. “How much do I owe you?”
Jane looked down and gasped. “Ooo, Nora, you better tuck that right back into your pocket.”
“Oh come on, you have to let me pay. You’re already doing me a favor.”
She closed my fingers around the gold and pushed my hand back toward my pants. “I’ll let you pay, but that’s way too much money. You can’t just pull out a fistful of gold in public. People have wound up dead for less.”
“Oh.” Since no one in this town had let me pay for a thing so far—well, except Tanner, but I’d simply set the gold piece on the counter and walked out—I hadn’t realized that Ruby had slipped me a small fortune.
“Just one of those will work,” Jane said, “and he’ll bring you change. Lots of change.”
“No change. Keep it.”
She smiled maternally, though she was likely only a decade my senior. “I’ll apply it as credit. You can eat here every day for the next year on that.”
“Oh, dang. I— Wow.”
Apparently, Ruby was loaded. Maybe medium-turned-private-investigator was a lucrative business.
When I moved toward the door, Jane grabbed my hand. “I get the feeling whatever you’re planning is dangerous. So now you do me a favor.”
“Okay?”
“Don’t get yourself killed. I happen to like you.”
Chapter Fifteen
It took some convincing, but Ruby allowed Grim to enter the house without first having a bath … this one time. It was special circumstances, after all. I was wading into dangerous waters, and I needed unassuming backup in case things went south.
Ruby had taken Clifford out for an evening stroll at my request. That, however, didn’t take much convincing. She didn’t want to be anywhere near when the confrontation inevitably went down. Said her nerves had been through enough in her many years.
So I was left alone in the parlor, waiting for a knock at the door.
Well, not entirely alone. Grim was snoozing by a fireplace, being more dog than tortured soul for once, and Bruce Saxon lounged in Ruby’s chair in the corner, staring longingly at a book he couldn’t open to read. Apparently, ghosts could only move the books when they were in the library. I chalked that up to more magic I didn’t understand.
And then there was Deputy Stu lying in wait …
When the last light faded through the crack in the curtains, a knock on the door echoed through the cozy first floor. I inhaled deeply, shoring up courage, and went to answer it. But I paused before opening the door. This was the first really dangerous part. She could surprise me, try to overpower me immediately, whop me over the head with something heavy like she did Bruce.
“Grim,” I hissed.
He snorted awake from his slumber. “What?”
“Would you mind staying conscious for just a little longer?”
“Fine. But next time you need me to be alert, don’t set an entire lasagna in front of me a couple hours before.”
“You knew this was coming. You could’ve paced yourself.” But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Grim might be my familiar, but he was still a dog, and I’d never known one to have any self-control when people food was on offer.
I swallowed hard and opened the door, my muscles tensing for the worst.
Instead, Tandy beamed at me like we were old friends. “Nora! So good to see you again!”
Hyacinth had done her job. “Hey, Tandy. What brings you here at this hour?”
“Oh, you know, just wanted to stop by. I was the new girl in town once, and I know how hard it can be when you don’t know anyone. Thought I’d drop by and get to know you better.”
Man oh man, I bet people fell for her nice act all the time. Even I found it difficult to look at someone like her and think “murderer,” and I believed with some certainty that she’d done it.
“Great,” I said. “Come on in.”
I stepped to the side and she glided into Ruby’s house.
Bruce floated a few feet closer to her so that the flames of the fireplace flickered through him, making it difficult see his lower half. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I still don’t buy it. There’s no way Tandy would do it.”
I flashed him a sharp look, warning him not to get any closer in case she felt the cold chill of his presence, put the pieces together, and blew our plan to smithereens.
“Tea?” I said as she settled at the parlor table.
“Yes, please.”
I set to making it just like I’d seen Ruby do.
I paused, staring down at the jars of dried leaves, twigs, and blossoms. Hmm … which were the ones for tea and which were for what few spells Ruby could perform? It seemed important not to mix up the two categories.
I went with the largest pot that I was sure I’d seen her scoop out of before. Then I added a sprinkle from a small wooden box, which I was sure held dried lavender. I could tell dried lavender just by touch alone, I’d used it in so many recipes at Chez Coeur.
As I stoked the stove with a few hickory chips and set the pot of water on top, Tandy struck up conversation.
“What have you been up to since you arrived in Eastwind?”
“Oh, nothing much,” I said. “Just seeing the town, mostly. Everything here is so different than where I come from.”
“And where is that, exactly?”
“Texas. Austin, to be precise.”
“Never heard of it,” she said quickly.
“No one here has. Except Ruby. You said you weren’t from Eastwind?” The tea kettle began to whine, and I pulled it off and poured it into two cups, thankful that water boiled almost instantly here—why, though, I wasn’t sure. It was probably best if I stopped wondering how magic worked.
“Right. I’m originally from Avalon.”
“Is that … near here?”
She laughed airily. “Not particularly. You can get there through an archway outside of town, but I think physically, the two places aren’t nearby. Frankly, I’m not even sure they’re in the same realm.”
I had questions. So many questions. But they were all off topic, and the last thing I needed was this whole thing to lead nowhere and for Deputy Manchester to have spent the evening hiding in Ruby’s bathroom for nothing.
So we’re clear, I did not put all my eggs in the Grim basket when it came to my personal safety. Besides, any confession was pointless if neither Manchester nor Bloom was around
to hear it. That’s why I’d sent an owl to Bloom, as she suggested, and she’d passed the order down to her deputy.
Manchester had been waiting patiently for an hour for Tandy to show up, and I could only imagine the look on his face as he slowly realized I might be right about Tanner’s innocence.
“Is it common for people from Avalon to come to Eastwind?” I asked, setting the tea in front of her and taking the seat next to hers at the round table.
“No,” she said, furtively. “Eastwinders may want to visit Avalon, but Avalonians don’t usually want to come here.”
“So, why did you?”
“I happen to like the small-town feel. I don’t find the poverty off-putting like the rest of Avalon does.”
Poverty? That wasn’t how I’d describe Eastwind at all. Avalon must be a seriously pretentious place. Zoe Clementine had said as much.
“So you came because …?”
“I met Echo Chambers at a soiree back home, and he convinced me to come work for him in Eastwind.” She swiped at the memory with the back of her hand, as if it held no interest for her anymore. “What did you do before you came here?”
“Ran a restaurant.” I sipped my tea slowly, gauging her reaction.
She feigned surprise. “Oh really? That’s not what I would have guessed.” Flipping her hair behind her shoulder, she leaned forward and tasted her tea.
“What would you have guessed?”
She shrugged a single shoulder bashfully. “Oh, I don’t know. There was just gossip around the salon about what you’ve been up to, and with the long coat and complete disregard for makeup, well, I thought you might have been a detective.”
Bingo. Here we were. All the conversation leading up to this point had been idle small talk, foreplay leading into the good nitty-gritty.
My heart raced, but I kept my hands steady, gripping my tea cup. “A detective?”
“Oh, yes. And if the rumors are true, you’re fairly good at it. Word around Echo’s is that you’ve solved Bruce’s murder.”
“Yes,” I said plainly, keeping my eyes locked onto hers. “I have.”
“So, who was it?” she said, just a little too cheerily. “No wait, let me guess. Ansel?”