by Ruby Raine
Melinda hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since the first time she’d stepped into Grace’s shop, and they’d all given her a similar look. Was she back to being the local freak? She thought she’d gotten past that.
“Oh ignore that bunch,” pish-poshed Grace. “They are happy to see you. As am I. You look good, all things considered.”
Melinda hadn’t even thought of the locals in these last weeks. Not on any personal level anyway. Many of them had come to Emily’s father’s funeral, and paid final respects to Jack Howard, but she hadn’t interacted with them much.
“I hear you’re already back on a case,” whispered Grace, tossing a knowing wink at her.
Melinda cracked a smile.
“I do hear things...” Grace grabbed three to-go cups and filled each. She went to grab a crème horne and Melinda almost told her not to bother but changed her mind. Maybe Emily would too. The woman needed to eat before she wasted away to nothing. Pretty soon her waistline would be skinnier than her ponytail. And perhaps a sugar bomb was exactly what the woman needed.
“Thanks, Grace.” Melinda reached into her pocket for some cash.
Grace shook her head and waved her arms. “Nope. Can’t take that.”
“Um. Okay...”
“For the Howards, it’s always on the house from now on.” Her tone said all the things she could not seem to vocalize. Thank you. For keeping the island safe, putting your lives at risk. “Besides, I make all my real money from the tourists and these bums.” She eyed one of the older gentlemen sitting nearby. “Yeah, I’m looking at you, Mason Fuller. Tab’s gone unpaid for over a year now.”
The old man shrugged. The other locals laughed together.
“Hey, if Mason pays his, I’ll pay mine,” Freddy Collier shouted. “Mine’s only three months behind.”
Grace rolled her eyes.
“Thanks, Grace.” Melinda grabbed the cups and exited the shop. Michael grabbed his and Emily’s, who got up to continue to the store. Michael got up like the shadow he’d become, to follow.
“Do you guys mind if I stay here for a bit?” Melinda asked them. She couldn’t stand their tension any longer.
“No. Of course, stay. Relax for a few minutes,” said her brother. “God knows it won’t last long,” he finished in a bitter mumble.
“Have a good day, Emily,” Melinda called out, shooting her brother a sympathetic gaze. “Oh, and Grace is so used to your order, she had the crème horne bagged before I could stop her.”
Emily twisted and tossed her a tight smile.
Michael looked like steam was about to explode out of his ears. If he didn’t get Emily to talk to him, for real, soon, and if she continued this stubborn refusal to let her emotions free... he tore off after her. Determined.
“What a mess.” Melinda plunked back in her chair, wondering if things would ever get back to normal again. Of course, there was a realistic answer to that question.
No.
They could only hope for a new, different version of normal. And she didn’t want things to be exactly like they’d been before. Not everything that had changed was bad. Although most of it was.
She usually didn’t like the hustle and bustle of the tourists, but today it was a nice distraction. Kept her thoughts from becoming too much for her overworked brain. Anyhow, all the caffeine, probably not helping her jitters. Regardless, she sipped on the hot energy in a cup and closed her eyes, soaking in all the sounds.
The clip-clop and shuffling of passersby. A horse drawn carriage carrying tourists on a tour of downtown. Laughter. Bicycles whizzing by. Distant car motors. The ferry blowing its horn announcing either its arrival or departure from the Isle. Seagulls crying, flying low in search of dropped food.
There was a feather light breeze; it wasn’t heavy and humid like so many mid-July days on the Isle. Her lips formed into a contented grin.
A moment of peace. Not quiet. But a serenity nonetheless. The Isle as it should be.
She blew out a satisfied sigh and took another sip. Grace had added a dash of cinnamon. She worked her own kind of caffeinated magic, that woman.
And that sound. There it was. The electrifying vroom of Riley Deane’s motorcycle...
Melinda’s eyes flew open, breath caught. Heart, skidding across a few beats. In excitement.
This surprised her. At first pleasantly. Right after, shocked she was so eager, but it wasn’t Riley’s two-wheeled metal machine. Just another motorcycle similar to his, carrying a couple driving through town. Seeing the woman with her arms wrapped around her traveling companion left a throbbing anguish around Melinda’s heart.
She missed riding around the Isle with her motorcycle man. Missed her arms embracing him, teasing him as he drove. The smell of his leather jacket. The smells of the island in bloom, the ocean spitting salt into the air. She had a sudden emptiness sweep through her, missing the way he wrapped himself around her like he was her own personal security blanket. The things he’d whisper in her ear. Every word exactly what she needed or wanted to hear. The way he’d touch her and drive her mad... the way he could be a little shy, and yet a little cocky, and at the same time treat her like a queen he cherished above all else.
Why did it have to happen the way it did? What was the point of Riley and his brother coming here, if only to do this terrible thing that forced him to leave the Isle? And why wasn’t it easy to forgive and forget? She had mostly forgiven him at this point. But did it make any difference? Riley might never come back. He might never want her the same way again. Even if she could forget all he’d done and forgive him, completely.
And how much harder was all this for him? To think of it from his point of view, to be the one who’d done those terrible things.
In her heart of hearts, she wanted him to come back, to move beyond everything that happened. She had an aching desire to reach out to him and beg him to come home. Melinda had a suspicion that she might be the only person Riley would listen to.
But was it because she wanted him to come home? Or because she needed him to? Was she in need of his attention, and security? Or did she really want all of him? Was it fair to Riley to be second place, when if she had her first choice, she’d choose William? Even as she thought this, she was unsure William would be the winner. There was no future with the vampire. Not a romantic one at least.
This was a decision the universe might have to make for her seeing as her heart flipped back and forth between the two hour to hour. Which was stupid seeing as William wasn’t even a choice! Yet her heart refused to give him up.
And this dependency thing, this need for a man-sized security blanket; it had to end. Maybe it was a good thing both men were gone.
“Well hello there,” a voice called out. Melinda lifted her starry gaze to see Mack approaching. “Mind if I join ya?”
“Please,” replied Melinda. “Slow morning?” Her body tensed, hoping for a yes.
“No new bodies.”
“Phew.”
“Yeah. Exactly. Quiet mornin’ actually. I might have enough time for an entire cup of coffee.”
“Shall we take bets?” enticed Melinda.
“I don’t know as I’d go that far...” She barked out a sharp laugh. Like clockwork, Grace appeared with a filled mug.
“Much obliged,” thanked Mack, taking a long swig. She took it black with heaps of sugar, and as soon as she set the mug down Grace poured her own and grabbed herself a seat.
“Don’t want to bother ya, but the crowd,” she aimed at the locals inside her café, “just want to know if there’s anything doin’ to these dead bodies you’re both investigatin’.” She cast her gaze between Mack and Melinda, eagerly noting it had to be supernatural or the Howards wouldn’t be involved.
Mack thrust out her half-empty mug with a sly, how-the-hell-did-you-find-out-about-that grin, and a refill me, and I’ll-share-what-I-can, head shake.
The café owner topped off the mug pouring in more sugar.
“I don’t wan
t no friggin’ panic started,” warned Mack, straight off.
That perked up Grace even more.
“Two dead. Determined cause right now, vampire bite.”
“Jumpin’ jellybeans!” gasped out Grace. The playful need to know, gone.
“Two tourists. Probable cause of death is vampire,” Mack restated. “Don’t have any solid proof one way or the other.” Mack leaned in, a haughty grin on her lips. “Want to hear the excuse I used this time?” Like she already fully believed it was vampire bite and had to come up with a credible excuse for the outside world.
“Oh you do come up with some doozies,” Grace praised.
Ah, small town life, thought Melinda. Everyone knows everyone, and everything, and there is no business that can or will stay your own. It’s also easy to get bored and the best way to pass the time... gossip. Grace, being the queen.
“It’s almost too easy on this one,” Mack stated. “Rabies infected bats.”
“Oh, good one. And so true. So true. Completely plausible. We do have some big’uns on the Isle.”
“And sadly, not far from the actual truth,” Mack said less enthusiastically. “Like I said, Grace. No need to panic just yet. If I get proof, I’ll let you know.”
And then Grace would let the rest of the locals know.
Who needed an emergency broadcast system or a phone tree when they had Grace? She refilled Mack’s mug one more time, Melinda’s still nearly full as she’d only been sipping, and disappeared back inside her shop.
“Oh what to do with that woman,” Mack gave out a sharp laugh.
Melinda thought it odd to be so glib about the deaths, but when looking at what Mack had to deal with day in and day out, she supposed a sense of humor and getting a laugh in now and then did the woman good. Hell, it did them all good.
“Grace is one of a kind,” Melinda decided.
“And she makes a wicked muddy brew.” Mack tipped her mug to Melinda. She tipped hers back in agreement. “A nice dark brew to cure what ails ya.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
The creases around Mack’s eyes deepened as she took another swig.
“You look like you got about as much sleep as we did last night,” noted Melinda.
“Yeah, Charlie filled me in on your ongoing patrols.” She tipped her mug again. “Here’s to hoping the dang vampire up and goes away.”
“I’ll toast to that one too. For once, just this once, let it be someone else’s problem.”
“Amen.” They both drank and laughed. They’d never be so lucky. But at least it lightened the mood.
The crowd on the street parted, oohing and aahing as a sleek black limo parted the bumbling about tourists and pulled up alongside the side of the street outside the café. Mack recognized the vehicle, having seen it about town a few times, but had yet to meet the owner. She had a sinking feeling her free coffee time was about to get sucked away.
A door opened and a middle-aged man popped out of the car. He was a taller, wiry fellow, wearing a tweed jacket and an energetic smile with kind eyes that seemed to dance with laughter, and were honed in on Mack.
“I say, are you by chance, Mackenzie Briggs, the local sheriff?” his accent was thick and British, but he spoke like he’d been in the states long enough to pick up some local slang.
Mack lifted her coffee and took one long swallow, finished it off and slammed down the mug. “Had to say I sat down long enough to do that.” She got up and addressed the man. “Yes, I’m the sheriff. How can I help ya?”
“Oh, splendid. Indeed, splendid. I was about to find your office and my driver told me no need, you’re right here, and here you are.” He looked as though he’d won some unexpected prize.
“Yes, indeed I am,” she returned evenly, adjusting her gun belt.
The man ogled her up and down. “A woman in uniform,” he purred in what should have been an enticing invitation, but Mack was having none of it.
Melinda almost snorted out of her nose.
“How can I help ya?” Mack questioned all business-like.
“Dinner. Tonight.” The man stated as if the matter, settled.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, I do have actual business, but I’m afraid you’ve rather blown me off my feet and nearly made me forget why I pulled over.”
Melinda covered her mouth with her hand, holding in a laugh. She had never seen a man so bold, with Mack as his target. The sheriff cast her a haughty side-glance and ignored the man’s dinner remark.
“How about you state your business.”
“Ah, yes. Where are my manners?” He bowed his head in greeting. “I am Nethaniel Dante, owner of the Channel Four TV Station.”
“Well, so’in ya are.” Mack had known this fact when the car pulled up. “Nice to meet ya, Mr. Dante. Welcome to our island.” She remained professional.
“Oh, just Ned, if you please. No need for formalities. And I find The Demon Isle most hospitable. Especially now I see the island beauty I’ve been missing out on.”
Mack exhaled sharply. “Mr. Dante,” her gaze shot daggers of, watch it, Mister! I’ve got a gun and I’m very willing to use it. Which only enticed him further.
He let out another trilling purr and growled out, “Fiery. Untamed. Bloody delicious.”
Mack opened her mouth to retaliate when Ned Dante continued.
“Although I hope you accept my dinner invitation, I’m afraid I do need your professional skills as well. I’m sure you’re spot on at what you do.” He tossed her a playful wink. “I’m afraid I need to file a missing person’s report. You see, one of my employees has up and gone missing.”
“Missing?” replied Mack seriously, ignoring the man’s audacious flirting.
Melinda’s eyebrow lifted, listening in. She sure hoped this had nothing to do with the vampire. This Mr. Dante was not only cheeky, and keen on Mack, but in charge of the local news, and the D.E.S.I. Reporter, Courtney Jessup. Who’d quit.
The man let out a tense sigh, taking on a sobered pose. “My newest employee. Courtney Jessup. Bloody shark of a reporter. Started here a few weeks ago and a few days ago, she quit on me without any decent excuse. But now she’s all but disappeared.”
“If she quit, she probably left the Isle,” suggested Mack, hoping to make quick work of this situation. The way the man ogled her sent a twitch down her spine she hadn’t felt in... well, far too many years to give two shakes about now!
“I may not have known Courtney Jessup long, but I would wager my life she’s not the up and quit type. And without collecting a single paycheck? Leaving behind all her personal and professional belongings?” Ned had the sheriff there, couldn’t deny there was reason to question.
Mack’s gaze pinched together and she cast a wary glance down at Melinda. The sheriff was getting a sinking feeling the woman was actually missing, or in some kind of trouble. Supernatural or otherwise.
“I’ll see you later, Mack,” Melinda whispered, getting up from the table. She needed to get home and tell Charlie this news.
“And I’ll be in touch...” she mouthed back. Mack instructed Ned to meet her at the sheriff’s office and she’d do a proper report and investigation. The man purred like a kitten, acting like she’d invited him to her private home.
“Now see here, Mr. Dante,” she stated formally.
Melinda snuck away without hearing more. Poor Mack. Or perhaps, yay Mack. She wasn’t sure what to think of Nethaniel, Ned, Dante. He was riling Mack pretty easy though and was at least good for a laugh if nothing else.
Not long after, Melinda sauntered into the mansion and hollered out for Charlie. She found him standing in the hallway, staring flatly at their parent’s bedroom door.
“Hey,” she called out softly.
He sucked in, seeing her. “Sorry. Was off somewhere else.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. What’s up?”
Melinda explained the new development regarding Courtney Jessup. “Timing sucks
. On her behalf at least. She goes missing right when there’s a vampire on the loose.”
“Yeah, not a good sign. But we’ll wait till we hear from Mack. Stupid nosy reporter probably got wind of the story and decided to try to capture the vamp in the act or something. Not realizing it was real.”
“You think she’d be that stupid?”
“Wasn’t it you willing to play bait the other night?”
“Yeah, but that was knowing what we were up against and having two witch brothers to fly in and save the day.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Okay, yeah, I get your point,” she caved. “But she’s a reporter. She’s inquisitive. She doesn’t know it’s actually real. What do you expect?”
“If she’s still alive,” started Charlie, “I imagine she’ll run away with her tail between her legs.”
“Be one less problem to deal with,” Melinda decided. She followed Charlie into the kitchen where Michael was walking in. They filled him in and waited anxiously for Mack to call. Even agreeing that the reporter might have bitten off more than she could chew, none of them wished her any harm, and hoped her body wasn’t the next to be discovered.
After an hour with no call, Melinda groaned and blew out a breath. “This is stupid. We’re just wasting time. Not getting anywhere finding this vampire. William’s still missing. And now this reporter.”
“Yay. Shitpile, getting high again.” Michael’s brain didn’t even want to think about it, his thoughts firmly wound around his girlfriend.
“I think I’ll go check the perimeter of the grounds,” said Charlie. “I’ve got some updates to the security protections I haven’t finished yet.”
“Need some help?” asked Melinda.
“No. I got it.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know once we hear from Mack.”
CHARLIE LEFT HIS SIBLINGS. Once outside, a weight lifted. There was something suffocating about being inside the house the last few days, and the fresh air calmed his nerves. He set into waving his palm around, redoing some of the protection spells he’d put around the mansion, strengthening them. He still hadn’t added any to ward off vampires, so he needed to accomplish that too.