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Witches, Recipes, and Murder

Page 9

by Zoe Arden

"Ava," Lucy called from the bar. "Can you come here for a moment, please?"

  I looked at her, taking my cue, and nodded. "Thanks for your time," I told the group of COMHA agents and hurried back to Lucy.

  "You're crazy," she whispered when I was back at her side. "Did you really think those guys would answer your questions?"

  I shrugged. "I thought it wouldn't hurt to try."

  "Yeah, until they tell Colt that you were asking them about him. Then what?"

  "Shoot," I said. "I hadn't thought of that." Suddenly identifying myself as Colt's fiancée seemed like a really bad idea.

  There were a handful of other people in the bar drinking. A few of them glanced at us, most of them looked away.

  "Why don't we split this up?" I said to Lucy. "You take the left half of the bar, I'll take the right."

  "What exactly am I asking everyone?"

  "Just ask them if they come here often."

  "That makes it sound like I'm trying to pick them up."

  I bit my bottom lip. "You're right. Forget that. Ask them if they knew Mack. If they did, ask them if they know Colt, too. It doesn't matter whether they do or not. We're just looking for information. Do they know anyone who would want to hurt Mack? Do they know of any special packages he'd gotten recently? Something someone might kill for?"

  Lucy looked at me doubtfully. "That's an awful lot of questions for people who don't look like they want to talk."

  "Just try," I told her. "We'll meet back at the bar when we're done."

  Lucy sighed and started making her way around the room. I did the same.

  The first woman I went up to looked as though she was going to bust my head open when I asked her if she knew Mack.

  "Get away from me," she said and reached for her purse like she had a weapon hidden in it. I moved quickly away from her and on to the next person. It was an elderly gentleman who looked harmless enough.

  "Excuse me," I said. "Did you know Mack Heathrow? He used to own this bar."

  The elderly gentleman looked up and smiled at me, revealing three rows of tiny sharp teeth sharp as a barracuda's. His eyes were black. I stepped quickly away from him.

  "Never mind," I said.

  A man's voice called out to me from across the room. "Hey! Little Miss Nosy!"

  I turned and saw the bartender looking at me. He was motioning for me to come toward him.

  "What is it?" I asked him. I glanced over at Lucy, who seemed to be having no better luck than I was. She saw me talking to the bartender and made her way over to us.

  "You struck out, too, huh?" she asked.

  I nodded.

  "Look," the bartender said to us. "I can't have you bothering my customers."

  "Your customers?" I asked.

  "That's right," he said. "I'm Mack's cousin, Von. He left this place to me, not that it does me much good, considering. But as long as we're still open, I'm gonna run it like he would've wanted me to. That means my customers don't get bullied or interrogated."

  "What do you mean 'as long as we're still open?' Are you thinking of shutting this place down?" I asked.

  He paused. "I don't want to, but I might not have much choice."

  "Why not?" asked Lucy.

  Von looked around the bar. "Listen, if I tell you something will you to get out of here and leave my customers in peace?"

  "Yes," I said, readily agreeing. I had the feeling that whatever it was he had to say was more than just gossip.

  "Mack was in trouble," Von said, his voice low. "Financial trouble, that is. He owed money all over town."

  "Really?" I asked, surprised. "It seems like this bar does pretty well."

  "It does, but Mack was no good with money. He owed everybody. That's probably what got him killed in the end."

  "Do you have any idea who might've been killed him?" I asked.

  "No," Von said. "If I did, I'd take them out myself. I loved my cousin. Neither of us had a lot of family, and now I've got even less." His eyes misted over, and I felt bad for him.

  "Thanks," I said. "You've been a big help." I took out a ten-dollar bill and laid it on the bar. It was the biggest bill I had on me. He slipped it into his pocket without a word, and Lucy and I made our way out.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

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  I stood outside Colt's door, bracing myself for what I was about to do. After talking to Von, I'd spent the rest of last night thinking things over and had finally decided that the only way I was going to learn the truth about Colt's relationship with Mack was if I asked him myself. I just hoped he didn't get too mad.

  Colt's dad opened the door, and I blinked for a moment, surprised to see him.

  "Oh, hey, Russell," I finally said.

  "Hi, Ava," he said warmly and opened the door wider for me to come in. "Colt didn't mention you were coming by."

  "I don't think he knew. I mean, I didn't' tell him. I just thought I'd pop over."

  I smiled and hoped that Russell couldn't smell my anxiety. They said that vampires’ senses were amplified by about fifty compared to witches, wizards, and humans. I wasn't sure if that was true or just an exaggeration, but I didn't want to find out.

  Russell was a great guy. He and Melbourne were pretty close; there were only a few vampires on Heavenly Haven to begin with, and most of them kept to themselves. Melbourne was actually one of the more active vampires, and he'd helped to bring Russell out of his shell, at least a bit.

  "I didn't mean to interrupt," I told Russell. "If you and Colt are doing something, I can come back."

  "I was just on my way out actually. Go ahead and grab a seat." He motioned to a chair, and I took a seat. "Let me grab him for you. He ran into his bedroom to take a phone call with Dean Lampton."

  Dean.

  Of course, he would be calling Colt at home. Sometimes Dean called Russell so much he acted like he couldn't get through the day without him. Dean was an irritation in my side, though I had to admit that he didn't like me any more than I liked him. He was Colt's boss at COMHA and a real know-it-all if you asked me. Then again, Dean probably would've said the same about me if anyone had asked him.

  "You don't have to interrupt him," I said. "Let him finish his call."

  "Trust me, he won't mind the interruption." Russell winked at me and disappeared into the bedroom. He returned a moment later with Colt, who was just hanging up with Dean.

  "Yes, Dean. Yes, all right. I'll look into it and get back to you. Bye." He hung up and pretended to wipe the sweat from his brow. "That man thinks everything is a conspiracy."

  I laughed and stood up. Colt kissed me, and I felt a warm tingle in my toes.

  "Glad you're here," he said.

  "You are?" I asked.

  "Sure. My dad was just leaving, and I have an hour of free time I didn't know what to do with." He put his arms around my waist, and his dad cleared his throat. My cheeks darkened.

  "I'll just get out of your hair," Russell said.

  "You're not in our hair," I told him, still blushing.

  Russell gave me a knowing look. "Don't worry. I've got a golf date with Melbourne this afternoon."

  "Since when do you play golf?" Colt asked.

  "Since Melbourne told me I had to." He shook his head. "If it was up to me, I'd sit around at home all day watching TV. But then, I guess that's what friends are for. To keep you from turning into a hermit."

  Russell said goodbye and took his leave. Colt kissed me again, and I felt like purring. "If you ever set a date for our wedding," he chided playfully, "you can get more of these kisses anytime you want."

  "Well, with that sort of incentive, I'd better pick something fast. How about February thirty-first?"

  "I don't think there is a February thirty-first," Colt said.

  "Oops, silly me. I guess I'll just have to settle for stealing a few kisses from you here and there
." I kissed him again and this time, when he tried to pull away, I held him close.

  "Wow," he said when I finally let him up for air. "If that's what stolen kisses are like, then I think you're right to keep me waiting on the date."

  He smiled, but I knew deep down he was hoping I'd get over whatever fears were holding me back and pick a date soon.

  "Want something to drink?" he asked, heading to the kitchen.

  "Water with ice?"

  "Sure." He got me a glass, and I sipped it. I started tapping my foot then realized I was tapping my foot and forced myself to stop it.

  "Something on your mind?" Colt asked.

  "No," I lied and cursed him for being able to read me so well. "Actually, there was one thing," I said and took an even bigger, even longer sip of water. "Lucy and I went up to Mack's Bar yesterday—"

  "You did what?" he asked, suddenly alert. "You went to Mack's alone?"

  "Not alone," I repeated. "With Lucy."

  He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, the two of you would really hold your own against a dirty wizard with ten times your power. Those are the types of people who go to Mack's, you know."

  "I thought the types of people went to Mack's were COMHA agents and paranormals passing through on business."

  "That's right," he said. "But there are also dirty wizards, dark magic, and criminals."

  "It's your friend that owns the place." I paused. "Used to own the place."

  He turned and looked at me. "What are you talking about?"

  "Mack," I said. "You guys were friends, right?"

  "Who told you that?"

  I shrugged, not wanting to get Von in trouble. "I don't know. I heard it somewhere, I guess."

  "Heard what?"

  "That you and Mack were friends."

  Colt's eyes turned dark. He was looking at me like he'd never seen me before.

  "Ava, I don't know what you're getting at, or where you're getting your information from, but I suggest you be very careful with what you say to people. One day, you might say it to the wrong person."

  I looked at him, horrified. "Is that a threat?" I asked.

  The darkness lifted from his eyes. "No, of course not."

  "It sounds like you're evading my question," I snapped at him.

  "I didn't realize you'd asked one." He folded his arms across his chest and glared at me.

  "Were you and Mack friends?"

  "No."

  " Did you know him?"

  "Yes."

  "Were you more than passing acquaintances?"

  He hesitated. "No."

  My jaw dropped open. "You're lying to me." I couldn't believe it. Somehow, I thought that once confronted with the truth, Colt would open up to me. Finding out how wrong I'd been was crushing.

  "Ava, there are some things about my job that I can't tell you. You know that. We've been through this before."

  "You're saying that Mack has something to do with COMHA? Like what? Did he work for you? Did he work undercover?"

  Colt shook his head. "Ava, drop it."

  "No. Do you know who killed him? Why haven't you arrested them? Are they the same ones trying to kill Natalie?"

  "I said drop it," he growled. His face twisted up into a mass of emotions, none of them pleasant.

  He'd never snapped at me like that before. I felt tears prick at my eyes like a child who's just been scolded by their parent. I turned around and left his apartment.

  "Darn it! Ava!" he called after me, but I didn't want to talk to him anymore. He'd flat out lied to me, I was certain of it. I couldn't trust anything he said, and that, more than anything else, scared me.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  EIGHTEEN

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  "Colt said that to you?" Lucy asked.

  We were sitting in the back room at The Mystic Cupcake. Colt had already texted me ten times since I'd run out of his apartment two hours ago. He'd also tried calling me five times, called Eleanor twice, Trixie once, my dad three times, and Lucy four. He was nothing if not tenacious.

  I'd finally had to resort to texting him back and telling him I wasn't mad, I just needed some breathing space. He'd settled down after that and had at least stopped calling everyone. Unfortunately for me, it meant that I'd had to explain to my entire family as well as Lucy why Colt was suddenly stalking me.

  Lucy had taken her break at the Cove and come down to the bakery to offer her support. My dad and aunts, sensing I needed a little time alone to vent to my friend, had left us alone back here for the last ten minutes.

  "He basically told me to mind my own business," I complained to Lucy.

  "And you're certain that his relationship with Mack was more than just passing acquaintances? You're absolutely positive you didn't misread him?"

  "Positive," I told her.

  "Then he's a warthog. How does he expect you to marry him when he's keeping secrets from you all the time?"

  I bit my bottom lip.

  "Sorry," Lucy said. "I didn't mean it like that. You two are perfect for each other. He's just being a... a... a man."

  I laughed and felt my mood to lighten, if ever so slightly. Maybe it would help if we changed the subject for a bit.

  "What do you think about what Von said? About Mack being in debt to everyone?"

  Lucy shrugged. "Sounds like a good motive to kill him."

  "Yeah, but what would that have to do with Natalie?"

  A loud, boisterous voice echoed from the other side of the door before Lucy could respond.

  "Where is she?" the voice demanded. "I know she's here."

  "You can't go back there," Eleanor scolded. "That's not for customers."

  The door to the back room swung open and Dean Lampton walked in. He was a balding, though not quite bald, man in his forties, with a large heavy frame and a thunderous voice that could probably be heard on the other side of the world.

  "There you are," he said, shooting an irritated look in my direction.

  "I've been here for the last two hours," I said. "It's not like I was hiding from you."

  "That's what everyone says when I catch them hiding." He moved swiftly toward the table where Lucy and I were seated. Eleanor and my father came hurrying in behind him.

  "Mr. Lampton," my father said, using the same fatherly tone he used to use on me when I was ten years old and had done something wrong. "I believe my sister-in-law just told you that you're not allowed back here."

  "Nonsense," Dean said. "I'm the head of COMHA."

  He turned away from my father as if that settled the issue. Apparently, being the head of the Council on Magic and Human Affairs meant that you could go anywhere you wanted and do anything you wished. At least, according to Dean. It was probably the reason he'd taken the job as head of COMHA in the first place.

  I sighed and looked at Lucy, whose face had turned red with anger. She didn't like Dean any more than I did. As far as I knew, Colt didn't like him either. Of course, that could have all been a lie. For all I knew, Colt and Dean were best buddies.

  "What is it you want?" I asked him.

  "I hear that you've been talking to Colt about Mack Heathrow."

  I lifted my eyebrows in a question. I was certain that neither Lucy, my aunts, nor my dad had called Dean to inform on me. That left only one person—Colt himself. He must've called Dean right after I left his apartment and told him what we'd discussed.

  Why would he do that?

  Unless I was right, and Dean and Colt were actually friends, and the whole 'I hate my boss routine' was nothing more than another lie.

  "So what if I have?" I asked Dean.

  "Stop it." Dean's face was red and puffy. He was breathing too hard and looked as though he might drop dead of a heart attack at any moment. "Don't ask Colt—or anyone else—any more questions about Mack or his involvement with COMHA."

  "So, he was involved with COMHA, then?"
/>
  I could tell by the way that Dean's eyes bugged out of his head that I was right.

  "I just told you not to ask any more questions about those matters."

  "That's fine," I told him. "You've already given me far more answers than I could have counted on."

  Eleanor cleared her throat. "Now that you've said your peace, Mr. Lampton, would you kindly leave our bakery?" Her words were sweet, but her voice was acid. If Dean didn't get out of here soon, Eleanor would start throwing hexes at him.

  Dean looked around at us, suddenly realizing that he was outnumbered. "Just remember what I told you. Consider this an unofficial warning. Sheriff Knoxx is doing a fine job looking into Mack's murder, and we've got our own agents on the case. You're not a detective, so leave yourself out of it."

  He looked at Eleanor, who was shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

  "I'm only telling you this for your own good," Dean said to me.

  "That sounds remarkably similar to what Colt told me, too," I said. "It's not safe for me to investigate, right?"

  "That's right, that's right." Dean looked excited now, like I was finally understanding him.

  "Too bad for you that I don't work for COMHA, then."

  He looked confused for a minute.

  "Well, since I don't work for you," I explained, "that means I don't have to take your orders."

  Lucy laughed, and Dean's face grew that much redder.

  "Leave," Eleanor said, "now. Or when you wake up in the morning, you'll find that you've grown a pair of horns that no spell can you rid you of."

  "If you're not careful," chimed in my father, "horns won't be the only thing you find you've grown. I'll leave it to your imagination to figure out the rest."

  I couldn't hold back my giggles. The expression on Dean's face was too much for me. Laughter erupted out of me like lava from a volcano. Dean's face turned dark purple, and he left without another word.

  "Ava," Eleanor said, "I was thinking of advising you not to do any further investigating on Mack Heathrow's murder. I don't like the idea of you running around that bar of his even if you're with Lucy. And I certainly don't like the idea of you hanging around with Natalie Vargas when she has a killer after her." She paused and looked at me. "That all being said, after Dean's appearance at this bakery today, I must not only insist that you continue your investigation, but that you make me a part of it."

 

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