Lady Weatherby lowered her gaze. "I know you won't believe me when I say this, but I am pleased. I only wish good things for the coven."
"But you put your own selfish needs ahead of the good of the coven," I said. "Ahead of the needs of an entire town." I felt my blood pressure rising. This was not the reason for my visit. I had to get back on track. “I’ve noticed some strange behavior from certain residents recently. I'd like to know whether CRAPI had any contingency plan in place, in the event the curse was broken. Something to make Spellbound a less attractive option for immigrants."
Lady Weatherby cackled. "You are giving them far too much credit. They would never be so organized as to plan something in advance."
“Okay, what if it wasn't planned in advance? Is it possible they quietly performed a spell on a selection of residents?"
Lady Weatherby quirked an eyebrow. "Why? What's going on?"
"I'm not going to tell you that," I said. "You don't deserve to know the details. If you know something, though, it would help your case to share that information with me now."
She smirked. "My case is closed. I don't have an incentive to help you. Even if I did, I'm afraid I don't have the information you seek. I'm not aware of any concerted effort by that ridiculous group. Without more information, I have nothing to offer you."
I inhaled deeply. Even if it wasn't CRAPI’s work, Lady Weatherby was a good resource for possible causes. I decided to go ahead and share more details.
“Certain figures in town are acting…unlikeable, not at all like their usual selves," I said. "It's causing personal problems for them, as well as professional. The only common link I can think of is to make Spellbound seem like an unwelcoming place to newcomers."
Lady Weatherby examined her fingernails. "If that were the case, then I imagine Mayor Lucy has been affected."
I gave nothing away. I only wanted to give her the minimum amount of information.
“I can see from your expression that she has," she said.
Argh! So much for my poker face.
"Who else would be critical under your theory?" Lady Weatherby tilted her head, lost in thought. "Sheriff Astrid, surely. Stan, the registrar. The elf is one of the first stops for those new to town. If I were really playing hardball, I'd make sure you were also impacted. If the town savior is a nasty, irritable young woman, that certainly sets the tone for the rest of Spellbound, doesn't it?" She studied me closely. “Given that you’re here, engaged in your usual selfless activities, suggests that your theory is incorrect."
My mind was racing. Lady Weatherby was absolutely right. Maybe it was a coincidence that Mayor Lucy was affected. Or maybe it was personal, and nothing to do with immigration. In that case, though, why was Begonia impacted? There had to be others, as well. I just wasn't friendly enough with the victims to recognize it.
I turned to look at Angus. "I'm finished, thank you."
Lady Weatherby held up a long, slender finger. “Before you go, may I inquire after my mother?”
I rose to my feet. "Your mother is quite well. I'll tell her that I saw you." Although I suspected how Agnes would likely react. Knowing the elderly witch, she’d spit on the floor and swear.
“Tell her…Tell her that I have regrets,” Lady Weatherby said. “About many things.”
That was not the message I expected to hear.
“I will,” I said, and gave her one last, long look before following Angus out of the room.
Chapter 12
A set of black wings darkened my doorstep, although I only realized I had company when Magpie began hissing and spitting for no apparent reason.
“Calm down, Magpie," I said. “There’s no need for histrionics."
Magpie shot me a dirty look before retreating to the dining room.
I padded across the foyer and opened the door to greet my guest just as she slipped back into her human form. After Calliope, Darcy Minor was the least likely Minor to parade around in harpy form. She preferred PTA meetings and bake sales to frightening the locals. In typical Darcy fashion, she stood on my doorstep in a pink pencil skirt and frilly white blouse. Her blond hair was in a French knot. One of these days, I would love to see her sport a messy bun. Unfortunately, Darcy was far too uptight to even let her bun loose.
"Good morning, Darcy," I said brightly. "This is a nice surprise."
She craned her neck to peer around me. "Where's your husband? I was hoping for a glimpse of wedded bliss."
“Sorry, no bliss this morning. Daniel has to finish packing up the rest of his house. He woke up before the sun to head over."
Darcy shivered with delight. "I love a proactive man. I wish I wasn't jealous, but I am."
"Would it help if I told you that he leaves the cap off the toothpaste every morning?" Which bothered Gareth far more than it bothered me.
Darcy bit her lip. “To be honest, that does help a little."
"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? I'm sure Gareth would be more than happy to make a pot. He's always asking when we might have company."
"Actually, I have a favor to ask," she said. "You know how we’re operating our home as an inn for tourists?"
"Yes, I think that's a great idea. Your house is perfect."
Darcy wrung her hands. “Well, we have a couple of guests at the moment, as a trial run. We’re hoping you might come by and evaluate us. Make sure we’re up to modern standards. We don't want to get bad reviews on the WonderWeb. Apparently, it's very bad for business."
"You want me to come right now?" I asked, glancing down at my fuzzy heart pajamas.
“Yes, we think that's best. A true test run. You’re the only one with modern experience, even if it's from the human world. It was Aunt Phoebe's idea."
Of course it was.
"Would you mind if I get changed first?” I asked. “It might be off-putting to have the neighbor wandering in wearing pajamas.”
“No problem," Darcy said. "I'll head back and wait for you at the house. We’re about to serve morning tea. You can evaluate the service."
Inwardly, I groaned. I truly hoped the Minors weren't as intimidating with their guests as they were with everyone else in Spellbound. It would take a hardened traveler to withstand their threatening demeanors.
I hustled to my bedroom as soon as Darcy left and Sedgwick greeted me from his perch.
What’s the occasion? he asked. I haven’t seen you move this fast since you discovered donuts at the Wish Market.
"Hardy har,” I said. "Darcy asked me to come over and give an assessment of their inn. I'm worried they might kill me if they don't like the answer."
Then you know what you have to do.
“Lie?”
Sedgwick offered a brief nod of his feathered head.
“But I'm a terrible liar," I said. "They'll see right through me.”
In that case, it was nice knowing you. I’ve enjoyed our time together.
I whipped off my pajamas and changed into leggings and a long T-shirt. If I had to make a run for it, leggings were my best bet. More streamlined and aerodynamic.
Bring your wand, Sedgwick suggested. An extra line of defense.
"Good thinking. I'll grab it on my way out."
You should probably run a brush through your hair, too. You don't want to scare their guests.
I fixed him with a hard look. "Are you playing the role of Gareth now?"
The owl shrugged. The vampire isn't here. Someone has to do it.
I groaned and ran into the bathroom for the brush. I poked my head back through the doorway. "Satisfied?"
The whole town thanks you.
I tossed the brush on the counter and slipped on a pair of flip-flops before heading out the door with my wand safely tucked in my waistband. I walked down the road to my neighbors’ house. Thankfully, there was no one on the widow's walk at the moment. Even for visiting paranormals, I imagined the sight of a harpy looming above your head would be on the scary side. They made Lord Voldemort look like
your jocular uncle.
The first thing I became mindful of was the door knocker. I was used to wrapping my hand around the brass bird head and boobs by now, but it might seem a little weird to guests.
Instead of Darcy, Calliope greeted me at the door. She was the prettiest and most pleasant of the harpies, and I had high hopes for her to be the one to meet that much-desired husband and finally flee the family nest.
"Good morning, Calliope," I said. Before she even opened her mouth, I sensed her foul mood. The negative energy was palpable.
"Not here, it isn’t,“ she snapped. "I don't know why my family decided to play servant to visitors. Since when do we need money? This house is crowded enough.”
"I think it's great that they're finding a way to embrace the new Spellbound," I said.
She narrowed her eyes. "This is all your fault, you know. If it weren't for you, everything would be the same as it was. I would have my own room, instead of sharing with Darcy. Every hanger in the closet now has to be a quarter of an inch apart. Can you imagine that kind of absurd precision?”
I suppressed a smile. "Actually, I can.” Darcy and Gareth would make ideal roommates.
“Let her in," Phoebe called from the other room. "You've already lost us points by leaving her on the front step too long."
I stepped inside and immediately noticed the collection of dusty knickknacks still cluttering the house. I assumed they would at least have removed the dust before opening their home to paying guests. I made a mental note and decided to save all my comments for the end.
I trailed Calliope into the sunroom where tea and breakfast sandwiches were being served. I was surprised to only see Marisol, Darcy, and Phoebe.
“Where are Octavia and Freya?” I asked. Octavia was usually holding court in the sunroom. As the matriarch of the family, she was as fearsome in human form as in full harpy mode. Her tongue was a sharp as her talons. Her daughter, Phoebe, was a close second in terms of inducing terror.
"They’re helping the guests upstairs," Darcy said.
My brow creased. "Helping them with what? Room service?”
"The dwarf is taking a bath, and the troll needs a shave," Darcy explained.
Alarm bells rang in my head. "And, how exactly, is your mother helping with that?"
“She offered to shave the troll," Marisol said. “Her talons are sharper than any razor.”
My heart began to race. “I don’t know that it’s such a good idea.” The odds of Octavia Minor pressing her talons against anyone’s neck and not drawing blood were slim to none.
“Not to worry," Marisol said, with a dismissive flick of her fingers. "Mother has years of experience using her talons."
No doubt. I just wasn't sure she had the kind of experience her guests were looking for. "And Freya? You said she's helping with the bath?"
"That's right," Darcy said. "He asked if she would join him and clean him off. He said he felt very, very dirty. Freya felt obliged to help.”
I smacked my head. "Ladies, you’ve got to make it very clear to guests that you're running an inn, not a brothel.”
The harpies exchanged glances.
"I didn't even think about the brothel option," Phoebe said. "Maybe we should revise our business plan."
I waved my arms emphatically. "No, no. The inn is fine. You just have to set the right tone. Make the boundaries clear. That means no bathing help or personal hygiene assistance."
Darcy pressed her lips together. "But he seemed really excited when mother offered to use her talons on him."
I did not want to know what kind of perversions this guy was into. "Customer service doesn't mean you do whatever the customer wants. You’re like a little hotel. You feed them. You give them a place to sleep that's comfortable, and then you send them on their way."
"How do we get them to leave us a good review?" Calliope asked. "Do we threaten them?"
Phoebe nodded somberly. "A little pain goes a long way."
I pressed my fingertips to my temples. "No. No threats and no pain. These are guests under your roof. You’re responsible for their safety and well-being. I can tell you right now that the town will start inspecting any new businesses like yours. You want to make sure you’re running a seamless operation by the time that happens."
Calliope put her hands on her hips and glared at me. "Are you suggesting it's not a seamless operation now? Our guests seem quite pleased so far.”
I should have been scared, but I was too appalled. "I'm not suggesting it. I'm saying it explicitly."
Phoebe snapped her fingers. “We asked for Emma’s advice. It wouldn’t do to then turn around and ignore it. Darcy, run upstairs and keep our family members from doing anything inappropriate.”
Darcy didn't hesitate. She shot upstairs like a rocket. I’d never seen that pink pencil skirt move with such speed.
Marisol lifted a cup from the round table. "Can I interest you in some tea?"
“Good idea,” Phoebe said. “Have her assess our food options."
They often served finger sandwiches with tea, and I worried they’d include actual fingers. As this was breakfast, I noticed eggs and breakfast meats in tiny sandwiches cut in the shape of stars. It was an interesting, albeit head-scratching, choice.
I selected a sandwich and took a hesitant bite. "Why stars?”
Calliope rolled her eyes. "It was Darcy's idea. She found a recipe book on a trip out of town and brought it back. They cut all kinds of baked goods into shapes. You would have thought it was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen."
"I've seen it done with cookies more than anything," I said.
Darcy nodded enthusiastically, as she returned to the room. "Yes, I've made cookies in the shape of angels and pizza in the shape of the Mayor's Mansion."
My eyes popped. "You made a pizza in the shape of the Mayor's Mansion?"
“I put sauce where all the windows are. I was quite proud of that one," Darcy said. "Until someone ruined it."
Phoebe threw out her hands in exasperation. "I ate a slice. How is that ruining it? It's food. It’s made to be eaten." She shook her finger at her niece. "I am not having the same argument again."
I lowered my voice. "It's probably best not to have arguments at all while you have guests."
Phoebe scrutinized me. "We still have to live here, you know."
"You can't live together without arguing?" I asked.
They all burst into raucous laughter.
"The gentlemen are on their way down,” Octavia said, sweeping into the room. She was a formidable figure, someone I never wanted to be on the wrong side of. She hauled her expansive derrière to the nearest lounge chair and made herself comfortable.
“Would you like tea, Mother?” Marisol asked.
“Naturally.” Octavia noticed me for the first time. “Good, our perfect princesses here. What say you?"
"Emma has a few suggestions," Marisol said, pouring her mother’s tea.
Phoebe smacked her sister on the arm. "They are not suggestions. They are directives. Get it straight."
Octavia's brow lifted. "Directives?" The tone of her voice made the hair on my arms stand on end. "Surely, I have misheard you, dear daughter."
"Yes, you did," I said. "I would never presume to tell you how to run your business.”
Marisol wore a petulant expression. "But you just did. You used the word ‘explicitly’…”
Phoebe cut her off. “Put a lid on the cauldron, Marisol."
"Emma’s concerned that we’re giving the wrong impression to our guests," Calliope said. It wasn't like her to throw me under the bus, but that was exactly what she seemed to be doing.
Octavia fixated on me. "Wrong impression? In what way?"
I lost the appetite for my shape-filled sandwich and set the plate on the table. "There should be a respectable distance between you and your guests. Joining them in the bathroom, for example, is not an acceptable practice.”
"In that case, someone should tell Freya,
” Octavia said, “because I'm pretty sure she's sloshing around the tub with the dwarf."
I cringed.
“Oh, for Nature’s sake, I’ll deal with it.” Calliope stomped out of the sunroom.
“Someone needs to put that girl out of her misery,” Octavia said. “She’s been a beast ever since Spellbound Day.” Octavia leveled a gaze on me. “Why can all problems be traced back to you? You’re a blessing and a curse, sorceress.”
“Spellbound Day,” I murmured.
“I thought she was upset because she was the only one of us in favor of moving,” Marisol said.
“She was definitely depressed about that,” Darcy said. “She even drank ale and Calliope rarely drinks.”
“That’s because the ale was free,” Phoebe said. “She’s cheap, not depressed.”
The gears in my mind clicked rapidly. “Free ale. Calliope drank the free samples from What Ales You on Spellbound Day?”
“Only one,” Darcy said. “She didn’t like it.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Stars and stones. It was the free samples.”
“What was?” Phoebe asked.
“Did anyone else here drink the samples?” I asked.
“I did,” Octavia said. “What’s the problem? I feel fine.”
Right. Same acerbic harpy, though. That made sense.
“I don’t want to speak too soon,” I said. “But I have an idea.” I heard Calliope thundering down the stairs. “I’ll get back to you on the assessment, okay? I need to swing by the sheriff’s office.”
Phoebe eyed me suspiciously. “Calliope drank something she shouldn’t have, didn’t she? It figures. Girl never drinks and, when she finally does, it’s laced with some kind of mood killer.” Phoebe cackled. “She’ll consider it her punishment.”
“Go easy on her,” I said. “Whatever this is, it’s not her fault.” Not her fault. Ooh, that gave me an idea. “I should mention that I drank a free sample, too, and I haven’t been acting like myself at all.”
“You seem like the same irritatingly chipper sorceress to me,” Octavia said.
Crazy For Brew (Spellbound Ever After Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 11