All Spell Breaks Loose

by Annabel Chase

  “Thank you so much, Alex. That’s sweet of you to say. I assume I wish the same for you." I laughed lightly.

  He grinned. "You absolutely do. You wish it for everyone, even your worst enemies. That's why I know I can trust you."

  Even my worst enemies? “Wow. I really am a soft touch, aren't I? How on earth did I end up as the public defender?"

  "Serendipity," he replied. "Or Fate, whichever you believe."

  I wasn't sure I believed in either one. Right now, the only thing I believed was that someone was determined to keep me from my memories. What that someone failed to realize was that I had no intention of giving up. Daniel deserved to marry the Emma he knew and fell in love with, not some lesser version of me. More than that, I’d had enough taken me from in my short life and those memories formed a critical part of me. I wanted Emma Hart fully restored, even if that meant I’d end up wishing good health and happiness for my worst enemies.

  “Good luck, Emma,” Alex said. “I hope to see you in a white dress very soon. You’ll make a beautiful bride.”

  I was going to be a bride. The realization nearly swept me off my feet. I had to hurry if I expected to have memories intact before the big day. There was no time to waste.

  Chapter 9

  I sat cross-legged on the floor of my office, surrounded by files. The names and cases were unfamiliar, even the most recent one. Henrietta and Bob Akers. Tomlin Breezeway. It was like reading someone else’s paperwork.

  The front door swung open and an imposing figure stood framed in the doorway. She clutched two disposable coffee cups. It was her headscarf that gave her away.

  “Girl, what are you doing making a mess like this in my office?”

  I glanced up at my Gorgon assistant. “Your office?”

  “Close enough to mine to matter.”

  “Gareth told me you were a neat freak,” I said.

  “That’s one reason he and I got along so well,” Althea replied. “Sheriff Astrid warned me about your memory loss. It’s apparently the worst kept secret in town. How are you holding up?”

  “Fine, I guess,” I said. “Trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, so I can get married on time.”

  Althea sashayed over to inspect my piles of paperwork. “Why are you reviewing your case files? They’re all closed.”

  “I’m looking for suspects,” I said. “If the paranormal that hexed me has done it out of revenge and it’s nothing to do with the curse, then maybe it’s because of a case I was involved in.”

  Althea nodded somberly. “Makes sense. Here, I’ll help you.” She set one of the coffee cups on the edge of my desk. “Your usual, Miss Sorceress.”

  “What’s my usual?” I asked.

  Althea smiled. “Whatever I decide it is. Today’s latte is cinnamon with a sprinkle of hope.”

  “Hope can be sprinkled?” I asked. “Sounds more like something that should be poured.”

  Beneath her headscarf, Althea’s snakes hissed. “They didn’t like your joke.”

  “I take it that’s typical,” I said.

  “What can I say? They’re a tough crowd.” She kneeled beside me and picked through the files. “It’s going to be impossible for you to narrow down suspects from these files if you don’t remember anything.”

  “I thought my notes would help,” I said. I waved around a file that I’d set aside. “Take this one, for example. It seems that some vampire named Byron attacked me at a funeral. Maybe he’s to blame.”

  “Not him,” Althea said. “Byron’s a wereass, not a criminal. We’re looking for someone with a stronger motive.” She scanned the names. “Here’s one. Vera Bridge.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “You discovered her husband was a murderer. Now she’s a single mother because he’s in prison.”

  I winced. “That sucks.”

  Althea continued to review the file details. “This one’s a better option. The Applewhites.”

  “Cute name.”

  “Fairies. You discovered their precious daughter accidentally killed someone and fled the scene of the crime.”

  “That’s awful,” I said.

  Althea tapped the file against her knee, thinking. “They were also friends of the former mayor, Felicity Knightsbridge. Someone’s mentioned her name by now, I imagine.”

  “Yes. She hates me because of her daughter, Elsa,” I said.

  “Some nice symmetry there,” Althea said. “I think we should poke around the Applewhite house.”

  “We?” I echoed.

  “You can’t do this alone,” Althea said. “Not without your memories.”

  “Maybe I should ask Sheriff Astrid,” I said.

  “That will only make them suspicious if the sheriff comes knocking,” Althea said. “We need to be casual about it.”

  “But even if they’re not the culprits,” I said, “presumably they don’t like me and won’t want to talk to me.”

  Althea rose to her feet. “I don’t know how you can sit on the floor. My legs are sore after two minutes.”

  I tried to stand, but my body refused to cooperate. “Apparently, I can’t. Help, please.” I held out a hand and the Gorgon pulled me to my feet.

  “Grab your latte and let’s go,” Althea said. When I remained rooted to the floor, Althea turned back. “What’s wrong?”

  “We’re taking my car, right?” I asked, remembering Daniel’s warning about my fear of flying. “You don’t sprout wings or anything.”

  “Girl, I’m a Gorgon,” Althea snapped. “I leave that winged crap to the harpies.”

  “Your snakes don’t start to whirl around like helicopter blades?”

  Althea fixed me with a hard stare. “I really hope you get your memories back soon.”

  Me, too.

  We knocked on the door of the Applewhite home, fully prepared to be turned away.

  “Someone needs a lawn service,” I said. The front yard was overgrown and the bushes were in desperate need of a trim.

  Althea frowned. “They’re fairies. They can do it with the flick of a wand.”

  The door opened and a haggard face greeted us. With her white blond hair, grey eyes, and lavender wings, Cindy Applewhite’s appearance was striking…except for the haggard face, of course.

  “What are you doing here?” she sneered.

  My throat tightened. “Um, sorry to bother you. May we come in?”

  “Why?” Cindy asked. “Has there been a murder you need to pin on an Applewhite?”

  Okay, someone had boarded the fast train to Bitter Town. “To be fair, your daughter was guilty, Mrs. Applewhite.”

  “And now my whole life has fallen apart as a result,” Cindy said. “Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

  “To feel like your whole life is falling apart?” I echoed. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” And I didn’t need Spellbound memories for that recollection, either.

  Althea inched closer to the doorway. “Why don’t you let us in, Mrs. Applewhite? My snakes are catching a chill and they get feisty when they’re cold.” She gave the fairy a pointed look. “You never know what they might do.”

  Cindy took the hint. She fluttered aside and let us pass.

  The inside of the house was a mess. It looked like the kind of house that was once well cared for, but had fallen into disarray.

  “Is Mr. Applewhite home?” I asked. “We’d like to speak to him, too.”

  Cindy’s expression hardened. “He may be home. I’m not sure. You’ll have to check over there.”

  Over there? “He doesn’t live with you anymore?” I asked.

  “Nope.” Cindy made a popping sound with her lips. “He and I argued constantly after Anya’s arrest. It got to the point where we couldn’t sit in a room together.”

  “I’m sure it must have been a stressful time for both of you,” I said.

  “And we blamed each other,” Cindy said. She hesitated. “I still blame him, to some degree.” Her gaze darted to the kitchen.
“I’d offer you a drink, but I’d be tempted to spike it.”

  My radar pinged. “That’s a rather honest statement.”

  “Not all Applewhites are liars,” she replied.

  We stood awkwardly in the foyer. Cindy didn’t make a move toward the living room, so we stayed put.

  “I don’t think anyone blames you for Anya’s accident,” I said.

  Cindy scoffed. “Oh, really? So it’s my imagination that neighbors avoid me. That paranormals hide in the aisles of the Wish Market when they see me coming?”

  Yikes. “I’m sorry that’s happened to you, Mrs. Applewhite.”

  “I can’t even move because of that stupid curse,” she snapped. “I’m stuck here with all the accusatory looks and the whispers behind my back.”

  “You’d move?” I asked.

  “Not too far,” Cindy replied. “I want to be able to visit Anya regularly. Just far enough that no one knows my story. I could start over.”

  “I hate to overstep,” I began.

  “No, you don’t,” Cindy interrupted. “That’s your specialty.”

  I ignored her remark. “Have you and your husband tried counseling? I can recommend someone…”

  “Ken and I are long over,” Cindy said. “Anya’s situation was the straw that broke the unicorn’s back. There was no love there. We were roommates, living through our daughter. Once she was removed from the equation, the cracks in our marriage were too visible to ignore.”

  I felt a pain in my chest. I’d suffered enough loss in my life to understand what Cindy was going through. Her grief and anger were palpable.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “If you’re interested in talking to someone on your own, Dr. Hall is a good therapist.” I assumed, since I continued to schedule appointments with her.

  Cindy recoiled. “The vampire that’s dating Lord Gilder?”

  “Yes, that’s her. Or there’s Thalia, if you prefer a lighter touch. She’s a muse,” I said.

  Cindy fixed her attention on a broken fey lantern above our heads. “I’ll consider it. It would be nice to feel less angry. I don’t sleep well anymore.”

  “Speaking of angry,” Althea said, “we’d like to ask you questions about Emma’s memory loss.”

  Cindy looked perplexed. “I’m not a druid. Why would you need to ask me about that?”

  “It’s not natural memory loss,” Althea explained. “Someone gave her a potion. The problem is that we need her memories to help break the curse.”

  Cindy’s grey eyes popped. “You can break the curse?”

  “It’s not a foregone conclusion,” I said. “But everyone seems to think I’m the missing link.”

  Cindy kneaded her hands. “I never imagined it was possible. I heard about the unicorn horn, of course, but…” She trailed off. “Believe me, if I had anything to do with your memory loss, I’d confess right here and now if it meant breaking the curse.”

  “I do believe you,” I said. I’d been in Cindy’s shoes to some degree. I knew what that kind of desperation felt like. “Thank you for your honesty.”

  Cindy’s tired eyes met mine. “Ken lives in an apartment on Merry Way near the Pines. He’s probably worth a conversation.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Applewhite,” I said. “I hope things improve for you soon.”

  The fairy’s wings sagged. “I’m not much for hope these days, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  I left the house feeling deflated.

  “This is terrible,” I told Althea on the drive back toward the Pines. “I had their daughter imprisoned and destroyed their marriage. No wonder they hate me.”

  Althea narrowed her eyes. “Hush right now. Don’t make me unleash the girls on you.”

  “You’re talking about your snakes, right?”

  Althea’s features softened. “You do have a way, Emma. I’ll say that for you.” She sighed. “Whatever became of the Applewhites had nothing to do with you. Those wheels were set in motion long before you gathered the evidence to have Anya arrested.”

  “But I feel responsible,” I protested.

  “You can feel however you like,” Althea said. “But that doesn’t change the facts.”

  “You’re pretty tough,” I said. “Why aren’t you a lawyer?”

  “I never had any formal training,” she said. “Back in the day, a young Gorgon was meant to stay hidden. Keep her snakes from turning everyone to stone.”

  “What’s stopping you now?” I asked. “You seem to have plenty of life left in you.”

  Althea stared at me. “Are you really suggesting I should study law at my age?”

  “Why not? You’re smart. You’re organized. You’ve got plenty of energy. What do you have to lose?”

  Althea’s face contorted. I wasn’t sure if she was having a seizure or about to cry. “No one’s ever suggested that I get a formal education. Not in all these years.”

  “Is there anywhere to study law here?” I asked.

  “No,” Althea said. “That’s why there are very few lawyers. Gareth became a lawyer before he was trapped here.” Her lips formed a satisfied smile. “Maybe when you break that curse, Miss Sorceress. Maybe then I’ll follow up on your suggestion.”

  “All the more reason to get my memories back,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We parked in the lot for Merry Way Apartments. A rainbow arched over the building, shimmering in the sunlight.

  “Someone’s trying too hard,” I said.

  “Maybe it’s the ideal place for Ken Applewhite,” Althea said. “If he wants to recapture some of the light in his dark life, the sight of a rainbow every time he comes home is a nice touch.”

  We entered the lobby and searched for Ken’s name on the mailboxes. Number 4.

  Ken answered the door in a fluffy white robe and reindeer slippers. “Elf Express?” He quickly zeroed in on me. “Oh, no. What do you want?”

  “Hello again, Mr. Applewhite,” I said. “Your wife told us we could find you here. Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?”

  Ken’s coloring was the opposite of his wife’s. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and bright orange wings that the robe seemed to accommodate.

  “I’m in the middle of something important like breathing,” he grumbled and attempted to shut the door. Althea stuck her foot out just in time and the door bounced off her shoe.

  “Miss Hart asked you politely,” Althea said. “If I need to ask, I won’t be so nice about it.”

  Ken’s gaze traveled up to Althea’s hissing headscarf. “Come in.” He fluttered across the room to the piano, where papers were scattered across the top of it. “I’ve been composing music. It helps me cope.”

  I scanned the messy room. I spotted an apple core on a napkin on the arm of the sofa and a trail of crumbs on the area rug. This was coping? I hated to see the result if he stopped composing.

  “You’re not faring much better than your wife,” Althea remarked.

  Ken’s head whipped toward us. “Cindy’s not doing well?”

  “Her house looks as tidy as this place,” Althea said. “And that’s not a compliment.”

  His brow furrowed. “But Cindy’s always been so neat. The house is a mess?”

  “All she has to do is use her wand,” Althea said. “I guess she can’t bring herself to wave it around.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Ken said. “She stopped using magic after Anya…” He inhaled sharply. “Forgive me. I don’t say her name out loud too often these days.”

  “Do you visit your daughter, Mr. Applewhite?” I asked. If he didn’t say her name out loud, the odds weren’t good.

  His attention shifted back to the piano keys. “I’ve been. Once.”

  “Once?” I repeated. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him correctly.

  “It was too difficult,” he said. “I couldn’t cope with seeing her again in that place.”

  “She’s your daughter,” I said firmly. “She needs you.”

  “The other young paranorma
ls in the juvenile center…” He shook his head. “She doesn’t belong with them. Not that I want her to be in the adult prison. That would be much worse.” He pressed halfheartedly on a few keys.

  “So you’ve clearly let yourself go,” Althea said, not holding any punches. “Is this your plan for the rest of your fairy life? Sit around in reindeer slippers and tickle the ivories? Because it’d be more interesting if you drank.”

  “Althea,” I said sharply.

  “What? Look at him.” She clucked her tongue. “What a waste of a good fairy. And poor Anya, wasting away in the juvenile center.”

  Ken banged his fists on the keys. “She is not wasting away. She will thrive. She’s an Applewhite fairy, not some common wereweasel.”

  “If you’re not thriving, how can you expect her to thrive?” I asked. “Her life’s falling apart at the seams and you’ve come along with a giant pair of scissors. You’re supposed to be her rock. Her foundation.”

  Ken refused to look at us. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

  “And I suppose you blame me,” I said. “If I hadn’t figured out it was Anya who accidentally killed Walter Rivers, your lives would still be perfect.” Or at least appear perfect to the outside world.

  Ken covered his face with his hands. “I never blamed you. Cindy did. Cindy wanted to blame everyone except us.”

  I recognized the picture in front of me now. It wasn’t a man full of rage. It was a man full of guilt. He did hold himself responsible and it was taking a toll on his mental health. My nerves calmed.

  “Mr. Applewhite, I made the same suggestion to your wife that I’m about to make to you,” I said. “A good therapist can do wonders for someone in your position. I highly recommend Dr. Catherine Hall. She’d probably love it if you played music during your session. She’s very unorthodox.”

  He sat quietly for a moment, stroking the keys. “Dr. Hall, you say? The vampire?”

  “Yes, she’s a vampire,” I said. “But don’t let that put you off. Plus, she’s properly accredited. I saw the certificate.” Allegedly.

  Ken continued to stare at the piano. “I hear you’re getting married soon. Congratulations.”