by Amy Boyles
"I hope that this is the first of many of its kind," she continued.
Me too, I thought with more than a note of sarcasm.
Em droned on and on, and quite frankly I tuned her out as our dinner of chicken and green beans was served. After the Queen Witch stepped down, the conversation at our table became pleasant, with no focus on newspapers or gossip, thank goodness. Though I promised myself I would seek out every mosquito article personally and burn them.
Another speaker came up, some witch named Judy, who wore a pale gray suit and white gloves. Not sure if it was a fashion statement or if she had a hideous poison ivy rash covering her hands. Either way, it was hecka hot in the South, and I didn't understand why anyone would wear gloves in this day and age. Anyhoo, Judy spoke about working our magic for good and not using it for selfish reasons. Blah. Blah. Blah. Someone should tell the twins that.
We took a short break before dessert. All of us left the table, and I stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air. I didn't see Roman, thank the heavens. My frazzled nerves couldn't take running into him, what with having to deal with the gossip girls.
I leaned against an iron rail, inhaling the sweet scent of honeysuckle blossoms, when Stormy stepped up beside me. "Having a good time?"
"Yeah, great," I said. "Peachy keen."
A throaty laugh escaped her lips. "The Umis are something, aren't they? Always looking for an angle. If I had to guess, I'd say half the crowd here had been burned by them at one time or another." She handed me several copies of the article. "I grabbed these before anyone had a chance to read them."
A geyser of relief swelled in my chest. "So no one saw them?"
She shook her head. "Not at my table."
I took the wad in my hand. "Thank you. You know, if I was savvy enough, I bet I could make a potion like that Jean woman and just get them to disappear or something."
Stormy smirked. "You'd probably be better at it than I would."
"Really?"
She quirked a brow. "Yeah, I was terrible at potion making in school."
"Well, I never learned at all, so you have one on me," I said, grinning.
"We're ready to start," Em yelled. "Y'all get your heinies back in here."
Classy.
After tossing the papers in the nearest trash bin, I made my way back to the table, only to find Loretta in my chair.
"You don't mind, do you? I couldn't see the speakers good from my seat."
Of course not. Take my seat, will you? While you're at it, riffle through my purse, see what good tidbits of info you discover. Perhaps you'll find a Twizzler and you'll decide I use it to entice children so that I can boil them and eat them.
"No, that's fine," I said, taking her chair. The upside was that I was no longer pinned between the twins.
"Oh, can I have my dessert?" Loretta asked, pointing to what was now my dessert. I glanced at the slice of cheesecake on my plate. Cherry sauce drizzled over the creamy surface. My stomach twisted in hunger. Then I glanced at her bland cheesecake—no sauce, no nothing. I really wanted to say no, she couldn't steal my seat and have her dessert, but then I remembered that getting on the bad side of gossip reporters probably wasn't a smart idea.
I raised the plate and passed it to her. A light, almost flowery scent wafted up from the cream-cheese delight. "Here you go," I said.
Loretta snatched the plate and handed me her pathetic-looking wedge of cheesecake. She dived right in. I don't even think she said thank you. How rude.
Sumi leaned over her sister and practically shouted, "Did you see that good-looking man again?"
I edged back. "I did not," I said, sharper than I needed to. "In fact, I hope not to ever again."
She covered her mouth with a hand in surprise. "Oh, does that mean he's free? He's quite a looker, if you ask me."
"I'll second that," Loretta said, chewing. "Mmm. This is so good. Of course, not as good as I hear Sera's baked treats are, but we'll have to discover that for ourselves." She winked at my sister as if they were in on a private joke. But there was no joke. The sooner this summit was over, the better.
I gritted my teeth and forked into the slice of cheesecake on my plate. I brought it to my mouth. The velvety smooth dessert melted atop my tongue. It was good. Not great, and didn't provide the feeling of comfort and joy that Sera's food did, but it wasn't as bad as I feared it might be.
The speaker (I forgot her name, and to be honest, I wasn't listening to what she was selling anyway) blabbed on about something or other. I played with my dessert, paying no attention until Loretta started coughing.
And kept coughing.
Sumi patted her back. "Are you okay?"
Loretta turned around, her face purple, her eyes bulging. The twin gripped her throat as if she couldn't breathe.
"She's choking," Sumi cried. "Save her."
Holy crapola. I yanked Loretta, who was a small woman, about five foot, from the chair, hooked my fist under her rib cage and started doing the in-and-up motions of the Heimlich. She jerked away from me, reaching for her glass of water. Loretta poured the liquid down her throat, her face now turning from purple to navy. She stumbled backward, toward the speaker.
"My sister," Sumi yelled, scrambling for Loretta. Margaret jumped from her chair and extended her hands for her niece.
Loretta pitched toward the lectern. The speaker backed off, a look of horror on her face. Loretta, spitting and sputtering, grasped the top of the wooden stand and tumbled forward onto the parquet floor.
Nothing. Not one sound came from her.
Sumi rushed over and turned her sister onto her back. Her swollen face peered at the world through blank, sightless eyes.
"Loretta? Loretta?" Sumi shook her. Loretta's head bobbed back and forth. "She's dead," Sumi yelled. "My sister's dead!"
I looked around at the sea of witches. They all stared at the body of Loretta, their fellow witch and purveyor of gossip.
Uh-oh. Here we go again.
FOUR
“The cheesecake was poisoned?” I said.
"Looks like it."
I sat across from Roman, trying to ignore the scents of man and musk that drifted off him and trickled like a traitor up my nose. He smelled like heaven. Like a worn T-shirt that I'd wear to bed and to work and to everywhere I went.
"So you switched seats with her?" he asked.
"No, Detective Bane, she switched seats with me. I returned from our bathroom break to find Loretta in my chair. She didn't ask."
He frowned. "Her sister said she'd been complaining that she couldn't see the speakers."
"She didn't mention anything about it to me until after she switched. If she said it was a problem before, I didn't hear her. But that could have been because she was too busy nosing into my private life."
"Care to elaborate?"
"No, I do not care to elaborate."
He quirked an amused brow. "But the dessert was originally hers?"
"Yes. She wanted that particular slice of cheesecake because it had cherry sauce on top." I crossed my arms and said with a sour tone, "So it looks that way, Detective."
Roman threaded his fingers through his hair. "Why do you keep calling me by my title?"
I scratched an itch on the back of my neck. "Aren't you a detective?"
"So it appears."
"I'm only trying to be polite. I mean, you've moved up in the world since I've known you. You've gone from ex-assassin and ex-detective with the witch police to full-time detective at Silver Springs. I'm only trying to give you the respect you deserve."
He glared at me. "You know I wasn't faking that kiss."
"Really? Could've fooled me."
His jaw twitched. His eyes darkened as if what I said hurt him. Impossible. Assassins, or even ex-assassins, didn't have feelings. Everyone knew that.
Roman sighed. "For the thousandth time, we needed the killer's confession on tape. Which we got. Thanks to me."
Cocky, wasn't he? "Is there anything else
I can do for you? I'm sure there are other people you should interview."
He tapped his fingers on the table and held my gaze as if he wanted to say something. My insides coiled. How could he make me feel bad with only a look? Okay, so maybe he had meant the kiss. Maybe he wanted to kiss me again. Maybe I wanted to kiss him again. Maybe I should stop thinking so much.
"Sorry, I'm not trying to be childish," I said. "A woman died tonight. I understand the seriousness of the situation." I squeezed his arm, ignoring the electric spark that ignited under my skin. "I know that in the past you've trusted me with personal information, and I also know you warned me that this whole setup with witches running around was dangerous."
The end of his mouth curled into a smile. "Are you giving me credit?"
"Don't let your head swell up. I'll assist you in any way that I can, Detective."
His smile faded.
"I'm surprised the witch police haven't arrived," I said. "There being so many witches around." The instant the sentence left my lips, I regretted it. Roman's face became a mask of stone. "But," I said quickly, trying to ease the sting of my words, "you're here. We don't need the witch police coming in and messing things up. We don't need them to do things like, you know, try to arrest you for a murder you didn't commit."
Unfortunately all of that was true. Years ago Roman was wrongly convicted of murdering a witch and sentenced to death. He escaped witch prison, or whatever, and had been on the run ever since. From what I understood, a few folks believed he was innocent, Queen Em being one of them. Truth be told, the man who sat in front of me was a wanted criminal. But I didn't care. I'd spent time with Roman and knew that though he was a rock on the outside, there was a tenderness to him on the inside—a softness that made me want to curl up beside him and start purring.
And that's why he was so bad for me.
He rose. "The witch police shouldn't hear about the murder. That's why I became a detective, so that I can quietly deal with what happens in Silver Springs." Roman swiped a hand down his pants. "You can go for now, but stay nearby. I may need to interview you again."
Conversation over. My chest felt heavy like a dumbbell rested on it. Not that I was sad our talk was over or anything. I wasn't sad. Not at all. It was just…he smelled so perfect I wanted to inhale him a little bit longer. Yeah, that was it. He just smelled good, and I didn't want to leave his awesome scent.
Keep telling yourself that.
I stood, stretched my legs and crossed to the door.
"And Dylan?"
I turned as he put his sunglasses on. I swear it could be midnight on the bottom of the ocean and Roman Bane would show up wearing those darn shades. And he wouldn't bump into anything. Not even an octopus or a giant squid or the kraken—whatever lived at those depths.
"Yes?"
"Watch your back. I still don't know exactly who that cheesecake was intended for."
I nodded and headed out to find Sera and the gang. I ran into Em first.
"Dylan," she said. "Are you okay?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure you're really worried, Em. Isn't this what you wanted? To swizzle stick up some trouble so you could get your revenge on me for those nights you spent in witch jail?"
She rubbed an index finger back and forth over her nose. "Chicklet, I ain't never wanted you or no one else to get killed. I was angry, I ain't goin' to deny that, and maybe I thought a good scare is what you deserved, but killin'? That ain't what I wanted at all."
I tapped my toe. "Great. Now that we've got that straightened out, where's my family?"
"They're upstairs gettin' ready for bed."
"Why are they doing that? We need to go home."
She took my arm and led me toward the walnut staircase. "It's been a tryin' day. Roman needs to keep all of y'all in one place. So for the night, you'll stay."
"Why? We can come back tomorrow."
She tightened her grip on my arm. "Listen here. There's been a murder, somethin' I never planned on. This is bad, little girl, very bad. You're just lucky we don't have Jonathan Pearbottom from the witch police snoopin' around, making you undergo a strip search so he can look for evidence."
"Strip search?" I said in a thin, transparent voice.
"That's right. So y'all will stay here as long as I need you to. Understand?"
I grumbled all the way to the adjoining bedrooms I'd be sharing with my family for the night. When I walked in, all four of them—Sera, Reid, Grandma and Milly—sat on two beds.
"Did anyone call Nan and tell her what was going on?" I asked.
Sera threw me a tangle of white clothes. "I did. Here's a nightgown for you, and there's soap, a brush and toothpaste in the bathroom."
"Great. It's a regular old slumber party. We've got a murderer on the loose, and now we all get to spend the night with her. I don't know about y'all, but that's definitely not my idea of a good time."
"Good time," squawked the parrot.
"Can you shut that thing up?" I asked.
Milly glared at me. "If I must."
"You must," Reid said. We all looked at her. She shrugged. "What? It gets on my nerves, too."
"It's terrible about Loretta," Sera said. "Did Roman tell you what caused her death?"
"Poison for sure."
She scrunched up her eyebrows. "How'd he figure that out so quickly?"
"I smelled it," Grandma said.
All eyes slid to her. "You did what?" I asked.
She tapped a finger against her nose. "I'll have you know, this sniffer is one of the greatest. When I smelled a hint of trollop flower in the cheesecake, I knew it had been poisoned."
"Trollop flower?" Reid asked.
"It only grows in Fairyland," Milly said. "Can be a curative, but when used improperly, it's a terrible poison."
"Well, if you don't learn something new every day," I mused.
"You do," Grandma said. "That's the point."
I thought about explaining my sarcasm but just left it. Why bother?
Grandma stood. "Well, I don't know about y'all, but I'm ready for bed. Dylan, don't worry about the murderer. If you'd like, I'll call Nan and have her guard your door. No one will be able to get through her. That woman's a rock."
I gave her a feeble smile. "Thanks, but no thanks. We'll be okay."
Grandma smiled. "I'm sure you're right. After all, I don't think a witch would try to kill you while you're with your sisters. She'll get you when you're all alone."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Grandma," I said.
"You're welcome. Now I'm off to bed."
"Same here," Milly said. She picked up her parrot, and the trio left via the adjoining door.
I changed into the white, shapeless nightgown that must have been the height of fashion in 1700, and plopped down on the double bed. Reid lay on the other side, scrolling through her phone.
"What did Roman have to say?" Sera asked.
I shrugged. "Nothing, really."
"He didn't declare his dying love?" Reid asked.
"It's undying, and no, he didn't."
Sera smoothed the blossoming creases on her forehead. "So while we were all out taking a pee break, anyone could have dosed the dessert."
I nestled beneath the covers. "I guess so."
"I suppose Sumi's too torn up to give Roman any ideas about who she saw at the table."
I bit off a hangnail and spit it onto the floor. "I don't know. I'm pretty shaken up myself."
Sera shot me a sympathetic look. "I know. Seems like every time we turn around, someone's nearly killing you."
I pulled the downy bedspread up to my chin. "That makes me feel better."
"Sorry, but it's true. Don't worry, we'll figure out who did it. After all, Roman's here. He won't let anything happen to you."
"He's a detective with a murder to solve. He doesn't have time to protect me."
Sera tsked. "Now Dyl, let's be reasonable. The man is an ex-assassin. I'm pretty sure he can do some detectiving as well
as be your personal bodyguard. He's pretty tough stuff."
Reid giggled. She swiped a finger down her phone.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
Her head snapped in my direction. "Nothing."
"Doesn't sound like nothing."
She chewed on a strand of her burgundy curls. "Trust me. It's nothing."
I gave her a long look before shifting my focus back to Sera. "I don't know. I mean, there's an entire house of witches. Any of them could have done it."
"I suppose that's true."
The back of my ear itched. I gave it a good tug and said, "I only hope they figure out who the killer is, and fast. I want these witches out of Silver Springs pronto."
"Why?" Sera asked.
"Because the longer they're here, the quicker they'll figure out that we're no good at protecting ourselves. It makes us vulnerable. I mean, you see how easily Loretta died. Anyone could be the killer, and in case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly good at witchcraft. If someone wanted to murder us, they could do so anytime they want." I shuddered, pulled the blanket even tighter against my body. "I don't like this. Not one bit."
"Someone's a bit sensitive," Reid said.
"I can't help it. When someone's tried to kill you once for your magic, it's hard to think someone won't try again."
"Good point," Reid said.
My mind churned. I tapped my cheek, trying to put all the pieces together.
"I don't like that look on your face," Sera said.
"It's nothing."
"It's something," Reid said.
"Go back to scrolling on your phone," I said.
She turned the screen black. "No. Now I'm interested in what's going on here. With you." She flashed me a cheeky grin.
"I'm just thinking that maybe we should help Roman out. We don't want a gaggle of witches hanging around for a long time, do we?"
Sera shook her head. Her short dark hair slashed across her eyes. "No, of course not. But that doesn't mean I approve of what you're thinking."
"What? All I'm saying is we can help Roman out a bit by doing our own investigation."