by Tegan Maher
Max was being so nice it was making me suspicious. As the geldings filed in from the pasture, he went behind each one and slid the latch closed with his teeth. I watched him, trying to figure out his endgame.
I ticked off possibilities in my head because Max had a good heart, but it was buried under a whole lot of egocentricity. That's what had landed him in his spot, and he hadn't changed much in the few hundred years since then.
I'd just bought him a new bottle of Glenlivet. I'd made him pancakes that morning. His chess set was freshly painted and ready for summer. Shelby'd bought him a new pet bed because he'd been complaining the other one wasn't padded enough. I puckered my lips and pushed them to the side, thinking, but came up with zilch.
"There you go," he said as he slid the last latch into place. "You're welcome." He trotted out of the barn and headed back to the porch, where he curled up in a pool of sunlight.
I glanced at Gabi, who looked as confused as I felt.
"What's he want?" she asked. "He's been like that for a couple days now."
"I don't know yet," I answered, clipping the lead rope onto Mayhem's stall so he couldn't let himself out to explore—aka tear up the hay room—at will. "But you can bet your Great-Aunt Sally he's not doin' it for free."
Shelby joined us, wiping her hands on the back of her jeans. "I saw him sneaking around the back pasture the other day."
"That's weird," Gabi said, frowning. "There's nothing back there but woods until you get to the lake, is there?"
I shook my head, looking in that general direction. "Nope. And he hates to swim, so it's not like he's sneaking back for that."
"Why does it matter?" Shelby asked. "He's helping and he's being nice. I mean, how bad could it be? He's a miniature donkey."
"Please tell me you're kidding," I said. "I love him, but there's a limit to how much I trust his devious, furry little backside to stay out of trouble. It's about as far as I can throw him."
She glanced in his direction. "You're right, I guess. It's not like he'd do anything to bring us harm, though."
Shrugging, I took the same path he had back to the house. "It's not like we can do anything about it anyway," I said over my shoulder, "so let's go eat."
I'd laid out chicken breasts that morning and decided to grill them rather than fry them. Yeah, I know. Gasp. But even Southern witches have to worry about broad butts and clogged arteries at least part of the time.
Shelby pulled out a bag of tater tots and spread them on a baking sheet, and Gabi tossed a salad made with lettuce and cherry tomatoes Rae and Aunt Beth had grown in their greenhouse. They set the table, then poured us all a glass of tea.
After seasoning the chicken breasts and tossing them onto the Foreman grill, I took a seat at the table with them. Addy popped in just in time to hear me share all we'd learned that day.
Laughing after I told her what Levana had done, she said, "I knew that girl had spunk. I'm glad things worked out the way they did."
Shelby lifted a shoulder. "It was a learning experience all the way around. Proof the universe has a plan for us all."
She was quiet while she thought back to the days before Christmas when she was stuck in the snow globe, then shook herself. It had been terrifying while it was happening, but truth be told, it was the best thing that coulda happened to her. She'd grown up three years in just a couple of days, and she'd needed to.
"So," I said to Addy. "Max has been acting weird. He just helped in the barn—on purpose—and Shelby saw him sneaking around the back pasture. Any idea what's goin' on there?"
Addy had a good handle on just about everything that happened on that farm—and in Keyhole, for that matter—but she shook her head.
"I'm not even goin' to try to crawl inside that little donkey's mind and figure out what he's up to. I wouldn't worry too much, though. He'll let you know what he wants when the time comes."
"That's what I figured, too," Shelby said.
"Now, about the girl," Addy said. "What are you going to do about the whole lifeguard thing?"
"Hunter's doing that now," I said, getting up to check the chicken. "He didn't want me too involved." I pulled them off the grill and set the plate in the middle of the table, then pulled the tater tots from the oven and dumped them into a serving bowl.
"Where have you been?" Shelby asked Addy as she piled some salad onto her plate. "You haven't been around much the last couple of days."
Addy glanced away. "I've been around. I've just been helping out a ... friend."
I yanked my gaze to her. "And does this friend have a name?"
She sighed. "I'm sure she does, but we sure can't figure it out."
"What do you mean?" Gabi asked.
"Janey came to us for help. She found a soul wanderin' around lost and didn't know what to do for her."
Janey, or Mama Janey as I'd come to call her, was a ghost I'd met on a pick over in Eagle Gap several months back. She'd been haunting her house to the point that nobody could live in it or even go inside for that matter. Her grandson had been on the verge of getting rid of it when I'd shown up to check out what he was selling.
She'd been none too pleased that I was pickin' through her stuff, but once she realized I wasn't buying her rattling-and-moaning bull, we parlayed and worked things out. Last I heard, her grandson had moved his family into the house, and all was well. She'd made it a point to get involved with the local living-impaired community, so I still saw her sometimes.
"Yeah, I reckon Janey'd gone to watch an old flick they were showin' at the dollar theater over there and ran into her. She was rattlin' around in the back room—literally—and Janey couldn't hear the movie. The poor dear can't remember who she is. She doesn't even remember when she passed."
"Have you checked the local obits?" I asked.
She raised a brow. "You'd be surprised how hard it is to open a paper when you have no body."
Shelby snorted. "And yet you still manage to get us to do whatever needs doin'. Did you not think to ask?"
"I did, but she doesn't want to involve anybody."
"Well, looks like you just did," I said around a mouthful of salad. "Has she been to see TJ?"
TJ and Moira were two other witches who lived over in Eagle Gap. She was psychic, or at least we thought she was. She'd just learned she was a witch several months back and was still trying to figure her powers out.
Addy shook her head. "We can't get her to talk to anybody. She's a mess. Every time we think she's starting to remember, she blinks out and we don't see her again for a few hours."
Lot of that goin' around, it seemed.
"Weird," Shelby said, dragging a tater tot through ketchup. "Isn't that how Mr. Wheeler was in the beginning?"
She was referring to Max Wheeler, Louise's dad. He'd been murdered, and he'd had problems staying connected until we'd found his killer.
"Yeah," I said. "I wonder if her situation's similar to his. His was trauma related to his killer. Maybe she's having the same problem."
Addy lifted a translucent shoulder. "I'll suggest it to the group. Maybe TJ can help her. In her more lucid moments, she says she sees the light and wants to go to it, but somethin's holdin' her back. And she does think she was from Eagle Gap, so maybe they can find somethin' out."
Thinking of TJ and Moira dragged my thoughts back to the idea for a girls' night, and I suggested it to Gabi.
"Sounds good to me," she said, popping her last tater tot in her mouth. "How about tomorrow night?"
"I'll call the girls and see who's available," I said. "I'll also check the obits over in Eagle Gap to see if there are any pictures or people who match her age who have died recently."
"Thanks," Addy said.
"No problem." I took a drink of tea to wash down the last of my chicken. "Just do me a favor, if you can."
"What's that?" she asked.
"Make sure the donkey doesn't burn the place down goin' through with whatever he's plotting."
She grinned. "I'
ll do my best."
Hopefully, that would be enough, but I had faith. After all, she'd kept the place standing for over half a century.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WE HAD A FACEBOOK MESSAGING group that included our core peeps so we could all connect with each other in a hurry if we needed to. After we cleaned the kitchen, I pecked in a message to see who was interested in a girls’ night out. Almost everybody replied within a few minutes.
Camille, Anna Mae, TJ, Moira, and Levana were all in. Raeann was a given, and everybody else was busy, so all I needed to do was let the non-living part of our crew know. That meant Trouble and Cheri Lynn.
Speaking of, Cheri Lynn hadn't been around much. I stuffed my phone back in my pocket and called her name, wondering for the thousandth time how she and the other ghosts heard us. I always felt rude just summoning somebody, but it's not like I could text her.
She popped in within a few seconds, wearing a hula skirt and lime-green bikini top and holding an umbrella drink. Her exotic gypsy features and dancer's figure suited the outfit I, with my Irish complexion, could never rock.
"Hey, sugar," she drawled in her smooth-as-molasses voice, grinning. "Whatcha doin'?"
I raised a brow and smiled. "It looks like I should ask you that! Nice skirt!"
She took a sip of her drink. "Even better Mai Tai," she said. "Me and Rupert decided to go to Hawaii for the week. Turns out he'd been there, so all he had to do was picture it in his mind, and poof! There we were! And one of the guys there kicked the bucket by collapsing in his tiki bar, so the booze went with him. Never-ending drinks!"
Seeing her so happy just made my heart melt, though I had no idea there was such a thing as ghost drinks until that moment. Some of the rules were a little jacked up. Cheri Lynn'd had a crappy go of it before she was murdered and was one of the kindest people I'd ever met. Since she'd met a nice man enjoying post-life, she'd just glowed.
"Well then, don't let me keep you," I said, a little embarrassed I'd called her away from Hawaii of all places. "I just wanted to invite you to girls' night tomorrow, but I wouldn't expect you to skip Hawaii for Fancy's."
"Oh, no!" she said, shaking her head. "No way am I missin' hangin' with my girls! Rupert's found some World War II soldiers who love to play cards, and it about bores me to tears. That's about the time they usually start playin', so count me in!"
"Awesome," I said. She'd never missed a girls' night yet, and they wouldn't be the same without her. "See you tomorrow night!"
She waggled her fingers at me and faded out, taking another pull off the long pink straw sticking out her drink as she did.
It'd been a long day, so I poured myself a glass of wine and headed to the porch. Rather than circling around the back to sit by the pool, I opted for the swing on the front. There was just something about it that called to me when I needed to settle my mind or my soul. I didn't want to admit it because I didn't want to worry anybody, but finding the body had shaken me. So had the threat.
No matter how much I acted like I didn't give a furry rat's behind, I did. I'd had a few close calls over the last couple years, and I understood better than I let on just how mortal I was. Pulling one leg up underneath me, I rocked with the other foot and sipped my wine, watching the egrets picking at bugs in the pasture.
The sun was just starting to set, and the shadows were growing long. Horses nickered in the barn as Gabi brushed down Mayhem, and the chickens clucked and fussed some as they pecked at the feed Shelby'd just slung out for them. Life was good. It seemed like I didn't have nearly enough time to just enjoy moments like this, so I took a sip of wine and savored the peace.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HUNTER'D CALLED AND said he wanted to run down some ideas but wanted to make sure I wasn't alone. I assured him I wasn't and that everything would be fine. Once he was convinced I'd spend the night locked in the house, he said he'd see me the next morning.
I spent the evening baking my butt off since the tournament kicked off the next morning. I was grateful for the opportunity to bake. As I rolled and kneaded and mixed, the familiar rhythms washed away the stress, and I found myself relaxing for the first time in weeks.
By the time I was finished, I had what I hoped was plenty to get us through the tournament, and I was ready to crash. Rae'd called and asked if I could help for a few hours since I had to be there anyway. To be honest, I missed working at Brew. Since I'd opened the shop and Rae had hired other help, we didn't spend as much time together. Back when it had been just the two of us, money was tight, but we'd been in it together. There’s nothing quite like that feeling.
Before I went to bed, I reinforced the wards around the property just in case. I wasn't that worried about somebody getting to us there, but it would have been silly to take the chance when there was an easy fix.
When my alarm went off at four thirty, I growled and shoved my head under my pillow. Resisting the urge to snooze it, I forced myself to sit up instead. I allowed my brain a couple minutes to accept the fact that sleep time was over, but when I caught myself nodding off again, I climbed out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, with minimum hygiene tasks completed and my hair pulled through the back loop of my UGA ball cap, I was loading pastries into the truck. As I was pulling away, I thought I caught a flash of movement toward the back pasture in my headlights. After watching for a solid thirty seconds, I decided it was probably deer but decided to take a look around that afternoon anyway.
Before I'd gone to bed, I'd called TJ and Moira about the broken ghost Addy and crew were trying to help. TJ said she'd check the human obits over there and ask around to see if anybody knew of any recent deaths in the para community. It wasn't uncommon for deaths there to go unreported to human police because, well, how did you explain a werewolf fight that ended badly? Or a body that turned to dust because somebody staked an out-of-control vampire?
For poor Hunter's sake, I was grateful as all get-out that the council put a moratorium in place to keep Keyhole to a witches-only county. Lord knows he had enough on his plate without having to deal with all that. When I'd asked Camille, my friend and head of the local Magical Oversight Committee, why that was so, she'd explained it came about because we're such a huge tourist destination that it wasn't safe for the para community in general to have a ton of shifters and vamps running around willy-nilly—not that the majority of them caused any trouble at all.
What instigated the rule to begin with was a pack of young werewolves were out romping one night and one accidentally shifted back to human form in front of an unsuspecting family visiting from New York. Kids will be kids, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and it took forever for the council to track them down and alter their memories. It was a huge hassle and a time-suck they didn't want to repeat.
There were still some ruffled feathers about it, though. We'd run into a family of werewolves in a restaurant in Eagle Gap that literally got up and walked out when they realized who we were. We'd gotten past that on a personal level when TJ and Moira hosted a cookout and invited many local supernaturals. Super sweet folks, but man alive, those people could eat.
I always parked in the alley behind Brew to save space on the street for customers, and when I drove past the front, I was surprised to see a line forming outside even though we didn't open for another half hour. I slipped through the back door with my first load of pastry boxes and slid them onto the counter.
Raeann already had the espresso machine on and was counting the till. She flicked her wrist and set the machine to making me a cup of Lively Latte.
"Good mornin' sunshine," she said, breaking open a roll of quarters. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be alone?”
"Mornin'," I said. "There wasn’t anybody to bring me, and I figured I’d be safe enough this time of day. Did you know there's a line out front already? Did they even go to bed?" I was still a little grumpy, but just the smell of the coffee was improving my mood.
&nb
sp; "Yeah, I saw that," she said. "Probably because lines go in the water at six."
I loved fishing and knew that was the best time to catch, but it was only once in a blue moon I got up that early just to go fishing. I needed that first cup of coffee, at least, and maybe something to eat too, but I felt bad making them stand out there. "Are we gonna open early, or just let 'em wait?"
She cast a glance at me, brows raised. "I'm not inflictin' an uncaffeinated you on anybody. The sign says five. They can wait another ten minutes for you to drink up, and I wanna get somethin' in my belly. I have a feelin' once we open those doors, there ain't gonna be time for any of that until at least after lunch. And I'm already opening an hour early."
"Alrighty, then," I said, yawning. "Lemme grab the rest of the pastries out of the truck."
By the time I managed to get the other nine boxes of pastries inside, my coffee was done. I snatched the cup from in front of the machine and dropped a couple ice cubes in it so I wouldn't peel the hide off the roof of my mouth with the first swig.
Rae had wards on the front windows that allowed us to see out but kept them from seeing in, sort of like a magical one-way mirror. I turned my hand palm up and motioned toward the boxes of pastries. As I sipped, I levitated them to the counter above the case, then opened one box at a time and sent them single file into the proper spaces. There was only room for about a quarter of them, so I put the rest in the cooler, grabbing a couple mixed-berry danishes for Rae and I before I did so.
She finished counting the drawer and moved around the bar to sit beside me, bringing her own coffee with her.
"So did Hunter learn anything yesterday evening when he talked to the lifeguard?" she asked, tearing off a piece of pastry and popping it into her mouth.
"Nope," I said, biting into my own. "There are only three lifeguards on the county payroll. They did say there'd been an uptick in well-to-do folks coming in from out of town with their boats and partying at the beach. They've had to warn more people than usual about drinking out in the open."