by Amy Boyles
I gnashed my teeth and tightened my purse strap to protect me from her wrath, but there was no need. She was up. And my grandmother Hazel was with her.
Awesome-sauce.
"Grandma, what are you doing here?" I asked. "Shouldn't you be home in bed? It's nearly ten o'clock."
Grandma sniffed and tightened the sheer scarf around her neck. "Aren't I allowed to sleep over at a friend's house every once in a while?"
"You mean like in a sleepover? Like little kids have?"
"Yes."
"No. You're old."
She snorted. "That's the problem with you young folks these days. All of y'all think the world revolves around you. When I went to inner earth and met the prince down there, he absolutely swept me off my feet. He was older, I was young, but we both understood one thing."
"What was that?"
"Manners."
"I'll remember that," I quipped.
"Let me see the box," Grandma said, extending her palm.
I pulled it from my purse and slipped it into her hand. She ran nimble fingers over the top and sides. "A locking spell, to be sure." Then she lifted it to her ear and shook it. "I hear a hole."
Milly crossed to her. "A hole?"
Grandma nodded. "Listen for yourself."
Milly took the box and shook it. She grinned. "Yes, there's definitely a hole."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
Milly caned the box over to a round side table. A slender crystal vase filled with a bouquet of colorful silk flowers sat atop a lace doily that draped over the lip. "A hole means that there's a chink in the spell. Roman, would you move those things please?"
He picked up the vase and flowers, resting them on the other side of the room. Milly settled the box on the table. It thumped onto the lacquered surface.
Grandma moved to Milly. "A hole can be enlarged. We can push and push until the hole snaps and we're able to unlock the box." She slid her fingers over the carved edge. "There," she said.
"Hmm mmm," Milly replied. She pressed her lips together. Her eyes slewed from side to side.
"I don't like the way it smells," Grandma said.
Milly nodded. "Agreed."
"It's just a box. What else is there to smell?" I asked.
Roman shook his head as if to warn me not to ask.
"My oldest granddaughter," Milly said. "You may be smart when it comes to dresses, but you're not too bright about magic."
"Thanks."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"I know that."
"It has the faint scent of acid," Grandma said.
I leaned over, took a good whiff. "I don't smell it."
My grandmothers exchanged looks. "It takes time to acquire the ability to smell magic," Milly said. "Roman."
Roman crossed to me, placed a hand on each shoulder and said, "Let's move back a bit."
"Why?"
"Because somebody might get hurt."
Both my grandmothers touched the box. A halo of faint light encircled the wood. It crept up my grandmothers’ fingers to their wrists. They closed their eyes and swayed from side to side. The flare grew, crawling up their arms while at the same time swallowing the table. It tumbled off the lip and became a shimmering fog that billowed over the floor.
A cool mist washed over my skin. Goose bumps sprouted on my arms. I edged back until I could feel Roman's strong body behind me. I wasn't scared, but I was certainly freaked out. Not the same thing. Not at all.
Okay. So I was terrified.
The glow brightened. The fog curled up around them, swathing them in the mist. My grandma chanted some words I couldn't understand; then a loud snick filled the room. The light and fog vanished. They opened their eyes. Milly ran her thumb over the box. "Roman, would you like to open it?"
"If it's ready."
"Should be. Unless we've gotten rusty at picking locks."
Grandma fluffed her hair. "You might be rusty, but I'm certainly not."
I followed Roman to it. The snick we'd heard had been the metal sliding through the latch. He placed a hand on either side and lifted the lid. The hinges groaned as the top rose. I bit my bottom lip. My teeth pulsed atop the flesh as I held my breath, waiting for the ghastly image of the heart to appear.
There it lay, a mass of muscle.
"That's it. That's what I saw under Stormy's bed."
Roman lifted the box and brought it to eye level. "That's not a real heart."
"What?" I said.
He shook his head. "It's not real. It's about as close as you can come to real, but it's magicked."
I frowned. "How can you tell?"
"The aorta's on the bottom. It's supposed to be on top. It's not real. Take a look."
I peered over his shoulder. He was right. On first glance it looked like a heart, but under closer inspection some of the anatomy was screwed up. Not that I was a biology expert or anything, but I knew enough to know that the specs were skewed.
"So what is it?"
Roman threw a glance to my grandmothers. "Good question. What is it?"
Milly caned over to the stupid gilded birdcage where the eternally wooden Polly perched on its roost. "I suppose we need to peel back a layer."
"What?" I asked.
An amused twinkle sparkled in her eye. "That's what you call it when something's been spelled to look like something else. It's the first layer. We need to peel back another."
"Okay."
Roman settled the box back on the table. "This is a spelled layer that someone wanted us to find. The real object lies beneath this one."
"It's nothing more than a glamour," Grandma said. "I should know. Back in my day I was fantastic at them. This is just one placed on an object."
I glanced around the room at each of them. "Okay, so let's see what it is."
Milly shuffled back over, clenched a fist and pounded on the heart. A green plume of smoke erupted with a hiss. It rose high into the air and dissipated. Milly flattened her hand atop the fake muscle.
"Under my hand," she said, "is the real object. This is what someone didn't want you to see."
"Great." I crossed to her. "I can't wait to see what it is."
NINETEEN
"So what was in the box?" Sera asked me the next morning as she wiped the counter of Sinless Confections to gleaming.
I pulled a croissant apart and shoved a piece in my mouth. Buttery layers dissolved on my tongue. Amazing. "A stone."
Sera tucked a strand of brown hair behind an ear. "A stone?"
I nodded. "That's exactly right. A small gray stone. Roman has it now, but that's all it was."
"And someone turned it into a heart and you found it under Stormy's bed?"
"And then someone stole it," I confirmed.
"Makes no sense." Sera rubbed the towel in a series of circles. "It's almost like someone is trying hard to make Stormy look guilty."
"Or they're not," I said. "With the box being stolen and all."
"Could it have been Stormy's to begin with?"
I shrugged. "Sure, but seeing as it's not a real heart, I don't see how it's even important."
"Unless someone wanted Roman to find it in her room."
I looked at her. "And then someone else stole it back."
"But who?" she asked.
"That's what we need to find out," I said.
"Find out what?" Reid asked, coming in from the back room. She set a plate of brownies on the counter. After popping one in her mouth, she covered the rest with a glass dome.
"I thought you were on a diet," I said.
"Men like women who eat," she replied through a mouthful of chocolate crumbs.
"Where'd you hear that?" Sera asked.
Reid shrugged. "It's common knowledge. Men enjoy the company of a woman who's not afraid to pack away a steak."
"You know who else enjoys company like that?" I asked.
"Who?"
"Your cholesterol. Oh, and your heart. They love eating loads of red meat and
fat."
She stuck her tongue out at me. I smiled.
"I'm surprised Roman let you take a look at the box," Sera said.
I chewed another bite of croissant, though I eyed those fresh brownies. "I think he's realized I'm not going to stay out of his hair when it comes to these murders."
"So you'll be the nosy girlfriend," Reid said.
"If you want to put it like that."
Sera emptied the old grounds from the coffee machine and dropped in a bag of fresh. She pushed Start. The machine gurgled and burped as a fresh pot percolated. "So now you have to ask yourself the question—who wanted to pin Stormy for Loretta's murder?"
"Well, we've got thirty witches hanging around town. Perhaps I'll just go ask them one by one," I said.
"Don't be smart," Sera said. "Just ask yourself—who was the first person to point a finger at Stormy?"
"Sumi," I said. "She found that diary."
"Then I'd start there."
I glanced at the clock on my phone. "Oh, I've gotta run. I promised Judy I'd meet her at the shop to talk about the fashion show."
Reid twisted the knob to the front door. "Fashion show? What's this I hear?"
I smiled. "Some of the women want to put one on. I think they're going a little stir-crazy."
She tossed a bundle of burgundy curls over her shoulder. "Count me in. I'll catch up with y'all later."
After she left, I said, "Where's she going?"
Sera leaned against the counter. "Beats me, but since it's slow I told her she could run some errands this morning. She'll be back later." She tossed a rag into the bleach bucket. "Perhaps you could pick Judy's brain."
"That's right," I said.
"What?"
"She was Margaret's roommate before Loretta was murdered. She may know something."
Sera smirked. "I bet she does. When I took Stormy out for tea, she told me that Margaret printed a nasty story about Judy."
I balked. "She did? Then why were they roommates?"
"I don't know. But it sounds like something you should find out."
A spark of interest flared in my core. "I think you're right."
***
"Thanks for stopping by to discuss the details of the show."
Judy Waldrop gave me a warm smile. "Thank you so much for doing this. It gives the girls something to focus on while we're confined here."
"Yes. It's terrible what's brought us together." I pulled a box of sugar cookies out from a desk drawer. "Would you like a cookie? Sera made them this morning."
She rubbed the tips of her fingers together. "How delightful." She took a dainty bite and said, "Hmm. Delicious. Give my compliments to your sister."
I waited a moment and let the sensation of Sera's food filter into Judy. Sera's food made you feel wonderful when you ate it. I hoped it would loosen Judy up a little bit, possibly get her to share information that she might not under ordinary circumstances.
"I'll tell Sera you enjoyed them. So, have you been thinking about which dresses you'd like to use?"
"Yes." She sailed around the store, showing me this one and that, pulling pieces for summer and even a few that would be deemed early fall. I placed each on a separate rack.
"You know, Margaret Duncan, Sumi and Loretta's aunt, had a wonderful sense of style. It's really too bad she couldn't be here to see this."
Judy said nothing.
Was that a hint to stop talking about her, or should I continue?
"I hear she loved fashion."
Judy sighed. "She did love fashion. It was what tore us apart, and what I ultimately hoped would bring us back together."
Bingo! I splayed a hand over my heart. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I didn't realize you had once been friends."
She sat down, crossed one knee over the other, and circled her hand around one of the cookies. She munched on it absently. "I had a glove business that did very well, so well that I had an entire shop dedicated to it."
A shop full of gloves? I'd heard of weirder things, I suppose. "Wow. I didn't know that."
She struck the air with the cookie in hand. "The shop was doing great, but then Margaret caught wind of a smidgen of talk."
I really, really didn't want to have to ask what that was. "Nothing bad, I hope."
"She heard that my gloves were falling apart within only a couple of washes, and friend or no friend, she published the story. Of course, she said it wasn't her. That it was Loretta who pushed her to run it."
"Oh no. She was your friend."
Judy's lips tightened. "I know."
"I'm so sorry. But weren't you supposed to room with her at the conference?"
She sighed. "I was. I decided to let bygones be bygones and just believe that it was Loretta's fault that the rumor got out. Margaret and I had time to speak a little when we first got here, but then Loretta died and she moved to a private room, understandably. I wanted to make things up. She was my best friend." Tears welled in her eyes. I handed her a tissue. "But I didn't kill her," she said, blowing her nose daintily. "Not that you were implying that."
"Never."
My gut told me that Judy hadn't done it. Her shoulders slumped with sorrow, and her eyelids drooped in sadness. This woman had lost her best friend, even if they'd ended things in a less than perfect state.
"I have to say, I've heard some strange rumors about Loretta stealing magic."
She shivered. "Preposterous. Those women would never do something as horrible as that. I've heard that talk, too, and whenever I catch even a whisper of it, I shut it down. Loretta never could have skinned a person for their magic."
"What about an animal?"
"A what?" she shrieked. "Heavens no!"
I reached over and squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't offend you. It's just that I keep hearing this rumor."
"But there's no proof!" Judy said. "For a while now witches have been saying that Loretta stole magic, but not once have I seen a shred of proof. I admit, I wasn't happy about what they did to my business, but I'd never ever spread such a vicious lie about them. I loved those two with all my heart, even after what they did. They were like family."
Judy shouldered her purse and dabbed cookie crumbs from the corners of her mouth with a finger. "Anyway. I didn't mean to come here and get all sappy. It's a sad thing to lose a friend, Dylan Apel, and even sadder when you part as enemies. Always make things right. Always. No matter what." She patted my hand and rose.
"I'll find some girls to fit into these clothes. I think we should plan on tomorrow night for the fashion show. It's what Margaret would have wanted."
I gave her a weary smile and watched her exit. I folded a stack of shirts that needed to be displayed to distract myself, but I couldn't get over the nudging feeling that this murder would never be solved. Roman would probably be forced to arrest Stormy simply because Sumi had found Loretta's diary.
Sumi.
I desperately needed to track her down and get her to tell me what she knew. Margaret had been afraid of someone. According to her, the walls had ears. Sumi was afraid, too. Would it stop her from talking to me?
There was only one way to find out. I folded the last shirt and laid it on the table. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. As soon as I stepped outside, someone grabbed my arm.
I jumped a thousand feet in the air. "Ah!"
Sera released me. "Sorry. But you have to see this."
"See what?" I said, confused. She pointed to a swarm of witches in front of Jenny Butts's Rustic Touch and Travel. "What's going on?"
Sera shook her head. "I don't know, but Reid's in there. If Jenny Butts gets her hands on her, there's no telling who our sister will become."
I tilted my head back in defeat. "Dear Lord. We've got to save her."
TWENTY
We threaded our way through the throng of women and into the store. Jenny Butts's Rustic Touch and Travel had been swept clean of Hula-Hooping Hawaiian ladies and copper-wire knickknacks. Row after row of
fold-out chairs lined the floor, and each and every one was filled.
By a witch.
"What's going on?" I whispered to Sera.
"No clue."
We snaked along the outer wall, trying to make it through knots of witches who shot us dirty looks for screwing up their lounging areas.
"Sorry," I mumbled, breaking up one particularly nasty-looking nest of women.
Sera beamed. "Sorry."
We wove our way to the front, where there was a microphone and lectern. "Does this place need extra acoustics?" I said.
"Only what can fill the space that is Jenny's head."
I stifled a laugh and glanced around the room. I didn't see Reid anywhere. "Are you sure she's in here?"
Sera nodded. "Positive."
"I'll keep an eye out."
As I watched, the room grew quiet. Jenny Butts entered from the front, pulling another swarm of witches in with her.
"Y'all come on in. There's plenty of space. Come in, all of y'all. We can make room, can't we, girls?"
A few of the witches murmured something that I'm pretty sure was an H-E-double hockey sticks and a no, but Jenny ignored them. After a few seconds of shuffling and bustling, the room finally quieted.
"I can't wait to hear this," I said.
Jenny smiled brightly. Her Marilyn Monroe curls cupped the ends of her ears delicately, and her ruby lipstick popped against her ivory skin.
She tapped the mic. "Is this thing on?"
It was. In fact, I'm pretty sure Jenny knew it was; she just wanted to look cute and important.
I rolled my eyes.
"You got something in those?" Sera asked.
"Hush."
Jenny pumped her arms as she said each y'all. "Y'all. Y'all. Y'all. I want to thank y'all so much for coming here today. I'm overwhelmed that so many of you want to hear my story and are willing to listen and learn from me. I assume all of y'all saw my flyers?"
The crowd of women nodded. "I can assure you it has taken me years, and I mean years to come up with the system you're going to learn today. I don't expect y'all to be perfect at it at first—everything takes time. But know that I'm here to help whenever and however I can. Once this course is done, you can e-mail me day or night and I will get back to you. Not always right away, of course, I need my beauty rest too, but I am here to help any way that I can."