I stopped short, staring ahead in disbelief.
A prone figure clad in red lay in the middle of the street. The scene was eerily similar to the ancient sacrifice I had just pictured, but the clothes were contemporary—khaki pants and a sweater with some kind of print on it. I shivered as the seeping blood turned the snow red.
Wait, snow? There was no snow. The first snowfall, I was told, was still weeks away.
And in the blink of an eye, the body was gone and the street was empty once more.
I stood on the sidewalk in front of the Banshee Creek Bakery and scanned the street more closely. Everything looked normal. In fact, with the Halloween decorations gone, the town appeared even more mundane than usual.
But I had seen something and I wasn't the type of person who saw things, at least things that weren't there. I wasn't a seeress or a medium, and divination had never appealed to me.
Then why was I—
Then I remembered the tunic I was wearing, and the reason why I had hesitated in purchasing it—it had pockets.
I reached into the pockets and extracted a sparkling round jewel surrounded by a delicate cage of gold. The stone was a pale blue, the color of insight and knowledge.
"Hello, Eye of Agathor," I said. "What are you doing here?"
The stone twinkled apologetically.
"You have a perfectly nice box inside a lovely drawer in the shop," I continued. "It has carvings and mosaics and a comfortable velvet lining."
The stone darkened, as if expressing dissatisfaction with its accommodations.
"Don't give me that," I said. "It's cozy, and Bubo doesn't bother you there."
Bubo was my deamon cat familiar. Like me, he was permanently, eternally attached to the Magical Curiosity Shoppe. Unlike me, he liked shiny things. There was a reason why the Eye was always kept in a drawer.
But that was the problem with the shop—the inventory always wanted to leave. The items I guarded were all magical, cursed, or just extremely unlucky. It really was better for everyone if they just stayed put. Unfortunately, the objects themselves strongly disagreed. They were constantly trying to escape the store, attach themselves to new owners, and wreak havoc on the outside world.
And the Eye of Agathor was no exception. I really should have known better than to buy an outfit with pockets.
"Come one, it's where you belong," I continued.
The Eye flashed angrily, giving me his uncensored opinion of the box, the velvet lining, my mangy cat, and the shop in general. This was one angry piece of jewelry.
"I don't care," I said. "You're going back."
The Eye then turned a sulky dark blue.
I sighed. I did not want to go back to the store to return the Eye, I would be late for the meeting, but I didn't want to walk around with it in my pocket, either. It would no doubt find a convenient hole in the fabric to slip through. I folded my flyer and put it into the pocket instead. A piece of paper would do no harm.
The Eye was a different story.
I gathered my magic and drew an ellipse in the air. It glowed for a second, then coalesced into a thin gold chain. I attached the chain to the Eye and put the now black stone around my neck.
There, that should take care of it. Wearing the Eye would be annoying, no doubt, but I would just have to ignore the visions. No biggie.
The rest of the walk was uneventful, just a beautiful evening in a quaint small town. No corpses. No omens of impending doom. Nothing, except the sign in front of the Banshee Creek Library announcing the Secret Santa meeting.
The library was a classic American Foursquare building with red brick siding, white moldings, and lots of ivy. Holly Hagen, the assistant librarian, had already hung the Christmas garlands and wreaths, and the library looked warm and inviting.
I fiddled with the flyer in my pocket as I approached. This was, in many ways, scarier than the Eye of Agathor's worst visions. By nature, I was a loner. I'd spent millennia trapped in one particular store, only meeting occasional customers. Oh, I had Bubo, and many of my items had vivid personalities, like the Eye.
But Banshee Creek was different. For the first time in maybe centuries, I'd spent more than a couple of days in one place. I'd gotten to know the locals. I'd even made friends, and now, apparently, I was going to participate in a Secret Santa exchange, whatever that was.
It was strange.
"Can you hold the door?" a familiar voice shouted behind me.
I opened the heavy wooden door and turned to smile at Patricia O'Dare, the owner of the Banshee Creek bakery. She was hurrying toward the library carrying a box.
"Thanks," she said, sounding out of breath. "I just finished baking these."
"No problem," I replied, eyeing the box. "Were we supposed to bring snacks?"
It sounded likely. People often ate at meetings, didn't they? It was a sign of hospitality. There was probably a social cue in the flyer that made that clear, and I had totally missed it.
"Not at all," Patricia said, as she entered the building. "Holly picked up hot chocolate and candy cane cupcakes from the bakery earlier. This is just a new flavor I'm testing." She gave an apologetic laugh.
"Oh, good," I replied. "I thought I'd forgotten. Wait, candy cane? What's—"
I broke off, reminding myself that I couldn't ask what a candy cane was. I should have known, and the fact that I didn't would have been a dead giveaway.
But Patricia just laughed. "I know, it doesn't sound a lot like Banshee Creek, does it? We even put ghosts on the Christmas trees, or at least, Yeti ornaments. Holly, however, was adamant about candy canes this year. Her son, Ben, loves them. He even decorated the wreaths himself."
Then Patricia stepped into the library, leaving me free to inspect the wreaths on the entry doors. They had red ribbons, sparkly pine nuts, and little red-and-white striped batons.
Those must be the candy canes. They didn't look edible, but they must have been, given that Fiona was baking them into cupcakes. I filed the information away for future reference.
Then I walked in, dreading the meeting, but looking forward to the cupcakes.
The library tables had been pushed against the walls and the chairs had been rearranged into a circle. Most of the Main Street businesses were represented. Kat Ramos from the botánica was chatting with the local fortuneteller, Luanne LaRue. Holly was making sure everyone was comfortable. The PRoVE guys were raiding the snack table.
A steady stream of chatter ran through the room. It was a typical small town meeting, except for one detail.
There was a red-clad corpse lying on the floor.
Chapter Two
NO ONE else seemed to notice the body, which was not surprising. Well, at least now I knew what that weird pattern on the corpse's sweater was—it was a bunch of candy canes.
I fingered the stone around my neck.
"Stop it," I hissed.
"Hey, are you okay?"
I looked up to see Thomas Lane approaching, his brow creased in concern.
The vision immediately disappeared, but I remained tense. Thomas always had that effect on me, and I didn't know why. Sure, he was handsome, with dark brown hair and blue eyes, and he seemed to know or intuit more than he should, but I had trafficked with the most enchanting of gods and angels. I should have been immune.
But I clearly wasn't. My palms were sweaty and my breathing unsteady. Had Bubo been there, he would have mocked me mercilessly.
"I'm fine," I said, my voice shaky.
"Are you sure?" Holly asked behind Thomas. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
The assistant librarian was dressed in her customary tweed skirt and sweater, and she was carrying a holiday gift bag.
"A common occurrence in this town," Thomas replied with a laugh. "Maybe she saw Sergeant Atwell."
Unlikely, since necromancy was not among my gifts, but perhaps it was a useful explanation.
"Who's that?" I asked, guessing that, unlike candy canes, local ghosts were not assumed to be
general knowledge.
"Our resident Civil-War-soldier-turned-ghost-librarian," Thomas replied with a shrug.
Holly rolled her eyes. "That's putting it mildly. He's constantly reorganizing the shelves and throwing down books he doesn't like."
That sounded annoying. My store's inventory moved of its own free will, which was bad enough. I couldn't imagine working with a resident saboteur.
Then again, I did have Bubo in the shop. Sabotage was his specialty.
"Have you considered an exorcism?" I asked.
The librarian's mouth fell open in shock, as Thomas covered his mouth with his hand, discreetly camouflaging a chuckle.
I'd made a mistake, hadn't I? I shouldn't have said that.
"Oh, no," Holly said, eyes wide. "We couldn't do that. He's part of the town, and the library wouldn't be the same without him or Pepper."
"Pepper?" I asked.
"The ghost cat," Thomas said, heroically trying not to laugh. "She follows Sergeant Atwell around. Pepper is short for pepperbox, which was a type of Civil War revolver."
"She scratches the furniture and steals lunches," Holly said. "But she's wildly popular."
"PRoVE has a Pepper tour," Thomas confirmed. "It's always sold out."
I wanted to ask what exactly one did during a ghost cat tour, but I opted not to. What if I made another mistake?
"This month particularly," Holly said. "It's Virginia history month and we've had several schools come in. The kids love the Pepper stories."
Thomas sighed. "If only it were just the kids."
Holly laughed. "Are you referring to the Haunted Virginia Tours? I usually don't mind them, but they started a new historical tour this month which attracted all the serious Civil War buffs, and they were a bit out of their depth. Did you get all the Atwell descendants too? I had to clean out the basement and bring out all of our Atwell memorabilia. I ended up covered in cobwebs."
"Every single one of them," Thomas said. "And they were all eager to tell us how many details about their ancestor we got wrong. He had no girlfriend, or he enlisted late, or whatever. We even have Pepper skeptics who say she didn't appear until a century later."
"Well, I believe in Pepper," Holly said laughing. "I've cleaned up after her."
I felt a twinge of sympathy. Having a cat in one's workplace could get challenging.
Holly glanced back at the group and sighed.
"I should start the meeting," she said. "The snacks are almost gone and the natives will soon get restless."
She extended the gift bag. "Here, pick one."
Thomas reached in and took out a small red envelope.
"Your turn, Dora," Holly suggested.
I eyed the bag warily, but ultimately complied, extracting an identical envelope.
Holly turned to the PRoVE staffers next to us. "Pick an envelope, guys."
"I hope I don't get Cassie again," Gus, the mustachioed cameraman, muttered as he inserted his hand into the bag. "She still hasn't forgiven me for last year."
"You gave her a rock," Holly noted, not unkindly.
"It was a haunted rock," Gus replied. "And she knows I'm not much of a shopper."
Ah, shopping. The word alone made a shiver run down my spine. I looked down at the envelope in my hand. It looked harmless enough, and from what I'd been told, it just meant I'd have to buy a couple of trinkets.
But it was still a commitment.
"You look scared," Thomas said.
"I don't like shopping," I explained.
Unlike me, he didn't look intimidated at all. He'd already opened his envelope and was regarding the contents with a small smile.
"Just buy flowers or candy," he said, grinning. "That's what I do. I only go all out when I really like someone."
I smiled back, envying his confidence. "And what do you do then?"
He leaned forward. "Coffee."
I laughed. I had discovered coffee shortly after arriving in town and was already an addict. It seemed like the perfect present.
Gus shushed us. Holly had stepped in front of the group and was waving at us.
"Let's get started," the librarian said with authority. "First, thank you all for participating in this year's Main Street Secret Santa exchange. It's a long-standing tradition in our town, and it's thrilling that every year we have more and more participants, like Dora from the Magical Curiosity Shoppe."
She pointed in my direction and I froze as everyone turned to look at me. Several of the attendees looked puzzled, as if they couldn't quite place the name of my shop.
That was part of the magic of the store. People forgot my shop as soon as they left it, and they didn't react with surprise when they saw it materialize in a new location. They just had a vague feeling that the shop hadn't been there yesterday, but that it was normal for it to be there today. Just like the Banshee Creek residents were now scratching their heads, wondering why they'd forgotten I'd arrived in town a few weeks ago.
Holly kept on talking, explaining the rules. The presents couldn't be expensive and they had to be delivered secretly. Creativity and thoughtfulness were prized above all.
I surveyed the room as she spoke. The vision hadn't returned, but I still had a weird feeling that there was something out there.
The library, however, seemed perfectly normal. Holly had not yet started decorating the interior for the holidays, and the front tables were still laden with history books and banners touting the town's Virginia heritage, including an exhibit on Sergeant Atwell's history and a few books about the role of cats in the Civil War.
The vision had appeared right next to the Civil War exhibit, so I examined the area, but found nothing amiss. The table had books, old photographs, framed documents, and other mementos of the dead soldier's life. The only thing that looked out of place was a small Banshee Creek Bakery box hidden behind a pile of books. I could only see a corner of the box, but the signature orange and pink stripes were unmistakable.
"Go ahead," Thomas muttered.
"What?" I asked, startled. "I was just—"
But I didn't finish the sentence. What could I say? That I was wondering why I saw a bloody corpse next to that table?
"You were looking at my Banshee Creek Bakery box," Thomas said. "Holly gave it to me as a reward for picking up the treats at the bakery. You can have them."
"Oh, but I can't—"
"Yes, you absolutely can," he said with a wink.
Then he walked off to chat with Gus.
The offer, I had to admit, was tempting. The group had polished off all the cupcakes and Thomas's reward box likely held the only survivors. He had been quite firm when making his offer. It would be rude to decline, no?
I was still considering his offer when Kat and Patricia approached, each carrying red envelopes.
"Is that new?" Kat asked, eyeing my make-shift necklace. "It looks great with your new top."
Kat, the manager of the Banshee Creek Botánica, was stylishly dressed in a bright green sweater and black pants, with a colorful stone necklace finishing off the ensemble. Kat was a jewelry designer, so it was no surprise that she noticed my new necklace.
"No," I replied, fingering the Eye of Agathor. "It's an old piece. I'm not sure I'll wear it again."
"It's beautiful," Patricia said. "I like how it looks on you."
I grimaced. "It has, uh, a few drawbacks. Anyway, do you know who your Secret Santa is?"
Kat shook her head. "I'm opening mine later."
"I admire your strong will," Patricia said. "I already know who I got, and I am in real trouble, let me tell you."
Kat rolled her eyes. "You're not supposed to tell us who it is."
"I didn't," Patricia said.
"There's only one diabetic in this room," Kat said. "You got Kenny, the PRoVE intern."
Patricia glanced back at a dark-haired young man in a black PRoVE t-shirt and grimaced. "What am I supposed to do? I thought I had this thing down because everyone likes baked goods, but now I'm back t
o square one. I have no idea what to give Kenny."
"You'll think of something," Kat said.
I, however, sympathized with Patricia. I fully planned to fulfill my Secret Santa obligations using the bakery's offerings. I, too, would be lost if it turned out I couldn't gift Patricia's cookies and treats.
"You can always ask Luanne," I said. "Where is she, by the way?"
Banshee Creek's resident fortune-teller could always be counted on to give good advice. She didn't seem to be around, though.
"She's not participating," Patricia said. "She says it's unfair because she always guesses her benefactor."
Interesting. Luanne's talents seemed more impressive than I'd thought.
"But that's not a bad idea," Patricia said. "Luanne will definitely think of something. I'm going to go see her right now."
And with that, she headed for the library's exit.
"Oh, boy," Kat said. "I better go check on that. Gus asked Luanne for advice about his Secret Santa last year, and it wasn't pretty. I think he misunderstood what the Ace of Pentacles meant. See you around."
And she followed Patricia out the door.
They weren't the only ones leaving. The meeting was done, and there were only a few stragglers left. Most of them were also heading out. Thomas waved at me from the door as he left, and I couldn't help noticing that he wasn't carrying anything.
I glanced behind me. The ominous vision was gone, but the box of cupcakes was still on the table.
I had to take it with me now, didn't I?
But before I did so, I had one thing left to do. I had to check my envelope. After all, I may be able to leave one of the cupcakes for my Secret Santa. Wouldn't it be wonderful to get a head start on the game?
I opened the envelope, took the nametag out, and my heart sank.
I wouldn't be able to leave a cupcake for my Secret Santa, tonight or ever.
My Secret Santa was Patricia.
Chapter Three
"THOSE BETTER be for me," Bubo said as I entered the Magical Curiosity Shoppe carrying the cupcake box.
The black cat was lying on the counter next to the antique cash register, licking his paw with an innocent air. I set the bakery box down next to him and scanned the store, making sure everything was intact and in its place. Bubo's innocent expression, I knew from vast experience, could not be trusted.
Candy Canes & Corpses Page 45