A Spell for Trouble

by Esme Addison

  Once again, she’d found herself in the position of protector without knowing how to go about protecting anyone, but there was no choice. If Pepper had actual evidence of someone practicing their magic—video, or even audio—Alex had to find a way to make sure that evidence was never released. But mere feet from Pepper’s door, Alex didn’t have a plan other than to knock and be charming.

  Pepper lived on Magnolia Street. Located a few blocks from Main Street, it was a historic section of town where stately, townhouses in pastel shades of green, blue, purple, and pink populated a street lined with fragrant magnolia trees. Alex could touch the first-floor windows of any house on the street by reaching her arm out from the sidewalk, but being set back only a few yards from the road wasn’t the only feature that distinguished the area from the more modern sections of town. Wrought-iron fences and lampposts decorated each tiny patch of yard, all bursting with flowers and giving the area a photogenic appeal that made it a favorite for tourists. During Christmas, the homes were extravagantly decorated and opened up for public tours in which the owners served hot chocolate and holiday pastries.

  Pepper’s home was a sherbet yellow with a large black door, matching shutters, and a brick chimney. A small brass plaque beside the door stated that the house had been built in 1770 and was originally used for commercial purposes, with the owner living on the top two floors. The home was unique for having an extensive side garden and a still-standing structure in the back, originally used as a warehouse. The property was well kept and lovely, and Alex knew it had cost a pretty penny. This part of town was highly desirable, and Pepper had boasted about her family’s wealth. A local journalist and gossip blogger would need a healthy trust fund to pay this mortgage.

  She tapped the silver knocker. To her surprise, the door was unlatched and swung right open. Alex peeked into the interior. “Pepper? Hello?”

  She’d seen Pepper’s BMW parked on the curb, so she assumed the reporter was home, but she didn’t hear any sounds coming from inside the house. Alex stepped back to look through one of the front windows. Pepper either had extraordinary taste or a fabulous interior designer. The space was bright, even in the rainy daylight, with white built-in bookcases, white leather furniture accented with soft, gray throw pillows, and large windows overlooking the backyard.

  Beautiful, but no sign of Pepper. Alex was moving to leave when something caught her eye. A large vase, broken into two pieces, lay in the middle of the floor.

  She frowned, leaning in closer to the window to examine the rest of the room. That’s when she saw it. Pillows tossed on the floor. Books pulled from a shelf and scattered. An overturned lamp. Something was very wrong.

  Alex pounded on the door again. “Pepper?” she called. She set a foot inside. “Pepper, it’s Alex Daniels. Are you okay?” She waited. There was no response.

  She glanced behind her. No one was on the street. Quickly, she slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

  Electricity filled the air, like the feeling before lightning struck. The skin on her arms exploded into goose bumps. The house smelled like a thunderstorm at the beach. She took another step and saw chaos. A runner in the hall, askew. Open cabinet doors. Broken glass on the kitchen floor.

  “Pepper?” Alex barely recognized her own anxious voice. “Is anyone here?”

  She entered the kitchen. A broken bowl lay like a shattered eggshell on the floor. She pulled a sharp knife from the butcher block and proceeded through the house on tiptoe, opening doors and checking shadows. Something was terribly wrong. The deeper she crept into the home, the more signs she saw that Pepper had been running from someone. But there was no one on the first floor. Alex turned her gaze to the staircase, her heart in her throat. No. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go upstairs.

  But what if Pepper was in danger?

  Alex held her breath and took a step on the first stair. She kept her back to the wall and the knife pointed outward. Two steps, then three, then four. She was choking on fear by the time she reached the landing. Silence. Three rooms. She surveyed each, finding no one. She exhaled.

  But the office was a disaster—an overturned desk, books tossed all over the floor. Clothes were strewn across the bed and sticking out of open dresser drawers. The third room, which contained only a few cardboard boxes, appeared to have been untouched. Pepper was gone.

  Alex pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called Jack. He picked up on the third ring. “Alex?”

  “Jack,” she gasped. “I’m at Pepper Bellamy’s house. She’s missing, and it looks like something’s very wrong.”

  “What? Why are you there?”

  “I—I wanted to talk to her,” Alex stammered. “Can you please come? She may be in danger.” She gave the address.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  She disconnected the call and wrapped her arms around herself. She was still clutching the knife, but she wasn’t about to let it go. She rushed down the stairs and out the front door to wait for the police on the front steps. Who would have entered Pepper’s house, and why? All she was doing was writing about Randy Bennett’s murder and teasing her readers with a story about water witches. As far as Alex knew, that included the Sobieskis and the Wesleys—

  Alex’s hands went cold. She had come to speak with Pepper on behalf of the Sobieskis. Maybe someone had come from the Wesleys, and they’d gotten to Pepper first.

  The Wesleys aren’t like us. They’re dangerous.

  Some of the bookcases had been emptied. Captain Bellamy’s journal—where was it?

  Alex sprinted into the house and up the stairs to Pepper’s office. It was likely she had kept all of her work materials there, and in fact her laptop was still open. Alex tore through the books scattered on the floor. Most of them were modern—dictionaries and style guides, a few reference materials. An old journal would have been easy to spot, and it was definitely not mixed up in this clutter. Alex’s gaze turned to the computer screen. A cursor was still blinking. Pepper had been working on a story. Alex read the screen.

  There is a war between two notable families, both of them with powers beyond our comprehension. According to the journal, they have always been at odds. The night before Randy Bennett was murdered, I followed Lidia Sobieski from Botanika to a house in the exclusive community the Peninsula. I parked my vehicle down the road and hid in a bush, but what I saw was astounding. Lidia confronted Tegan Wesley. As they exchanged words, the wind picked up and—I swear this is true—Tegan radiated sparks from her fingertips. How many times have we heard people in Bellamy Bay gossip about Lidia’s famous temper, and how it seems like she can make the earth shake? Apparently when Tegan is angry, she can set fire.

  The writing stopped there. Now she remembered that Lidia had left Botanika in a hurry the night before Randy Bennett’s death, claiming she had a meeting. Pepper had followed her?

  Alex scrolled down the screen, and what she saw next made her heart stop. Pepper had embedded a video. With a trembling finger, Alex pressed play. The quality of the video was grainy, so it must have been taken on her cell phone from a distance, but the image was clear enough to stall her breath. Lidia and Tegan were standing at a distance, arguing. As their conflict escalated, a violent wind whipped at their hair. Then, Tegan’s fingertips sprayed an arc of sparks.

  Alex heard a car door open and close, and she looked back at the laptop, realizing she couldn’t allow anyone to see this story. Without thinking, she deleted the file, realizing too late that she might have just tampered with evidence. She cursed under her breath, and a sheen of sweat began on her forehead. She could go to jail for this.

  There were steps in the entry downstairs. “Hello?”

  It was Jack’s voice. Alex was shaky with guilt over snooping through Pepper’s things, but she couldn’t get caught. This was a family matter, nothing more. She swept her fingerprints off the keyboard with a cloth Pepper kept on her desk to wipe down her screen.

  “Hello? Alex?” Jack was wa
lking up the stairs.

  “Up here,” she called. “I, uh, thought I heard something.”

  She glanced around. The room was a mess, and she definitely looked like she had been snooping. The optics were not good at all. I am so going to jail. But when Jack appeared in the doorway, she tried to appear natural. “Hey. How are you?”

  No, that was not natural, judging from the suspicious frown on Jack’s face. He pointed to the knife she was gripping in her fist. “What’s going on here?”

  “Oh. This?” She casually glanced at the weapon in her hand and forced a smile. “Self-protection. But now that you’re here …” She set it down on the only clean surface of Pepper’s disordered desk.

  Jack’s frown deepened. “You want to tell me how you wound up in Pepper’s house? Did you break in?”

  “Of course not. The front door was open.”

  “And you just walked in?” He folded his muscular arms across his chest.

  “No. Well, yes,” Alex admitted, “but only because I was worried about Pepper. The downstairs was a screw up and the door was open, so—” She flung her arms out helplessly. “It looked like there was a struggle. And she’s missing, so my instincts were right.”

  She followed his gaze around the messy room. “This could be a crime scene,” he said. “And you were up here touching things and doing who knows what else.”

  The comment stung, accurate as it was. “I’m the one who called you here. Why are you talking to me that way?”

  “Because you may have compromised our investigation.”

  His coldness gutted her. She’d actually liked Jack, and she’d trusted him. “Why are you treating me like I’m a suspect?”

  His blue eyes narrowed, no sign of those adorable dimples whatsoever. “Alex, everyone knows that Pepper has been covering your aunt’s arrest for the local newspaper. Just like we all know she’s doing some research into your family history, and while it sounds like garbage to me”—he held up his hands—”we both know that Lidia is touchy.”

  Now it was Alex’s turn to be suspicious. “Touchy? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She’s a private person, and a little on the eccentric side, if I’m being honest. She must be pretty angry reading the news every day and seeing Pepper’s fixation on her.”

  Alex couldn’t believe this. How was it possible that no matter what, Jack was committed to the idea that Lidia was a cold-blooded murderer? “Lidia had nothing to do with this. She couldn’t have. She’s on house arrest.”

  “She is,” he said softly. “But you’re not.”

  Alex’s eyes smarted as if she’d been slapped in the face. “Wow, Jack,” she gasped. “Wow.” She nearly stumbled across the floor as she headed to the door. “I’ll leave you to your work. You’ll need to process the scene, and I wouldn’t want to ruin anything else.”

  She brushed past him, torn between heartache and rage. She gripped the banister, her knees weak as two more police officers entered the house. One of them pointed at her. “Miss. We’re going to need a statement.”

  She nodded mutely and continued down the stairs. Beside the front door was a wooden key rack, empty except for a single dangling key. Alex froze. The car keys were gone, but Pepper’s BMW was still parked on the street. Panic seized her throat. Was she still in the car?

  She jogged past the police officers, went back to the street where the car was, and peered inside. The keys were lying on the driver’s seat. But that didn’t make any sense. Why would the keys be locked inside, unless … Was Pepper in the trunk? She didn’t stop to think about fingerprints and crime-scene evidence as she yanked the driver’s side door open. An image of her mother came to mind, drowning, gasping for air, and she knew she couldn’t let that happen. She beat on the window, calling the woman’s name. And then she heard a low moaning sound. She followed the sound to the back of the car and slapped the trunk.

  “Pepper, are you in there?” She waited a moment and heard another soft mewling sound. She went back to the passenger’s door and kicked it in a panic, wondering if Pepper was in danger of losing air.

  She suddenly felt strong arms pull her away from the car, and struggled against the restraint. “She’s in there, I have to save her.”

  “Who’s in there?” Jack said, his breath coming fast as if he’d been running, and he turned her around to face him. “Pepper?”

  Nodding, Alex took a few deep breaths. She showed him the key and told him about the sounds she’d heard.

  Jack called for a policeman, who hustled over. They spoke for a moment, and the officer retrieved a baton from his utility belt and handed it to him. Keeping it collapsed, Jack aimed it at the lower corner of the window and punched through the window. Shards of glass flew through the air as Jack reached inside, grabbed the keys, and unlocked the trunk.

  Alex ran to his side, and breathed a sigh of relief when they both saw Pepper curled into a ball, lying on her side, face devoid of all color and eyes wide with fear.

  “Pepper.”

  Once again, Alex sensed an electricity in the air, but the energy dissipated almost at once. Pepper sat up as if she’d been napping. “What—where am I?” She was wearing a bathrobe and her hair was damp, presumably from her shower that morning.

  Alex exhaled. She was relieved beyond words. “You’re okay? What happened to you?”

  Pepper struggled to focus her eyes, but she didn’t appear injured. “I don’t—know.”

  Jack wrapped an arm around her and helped her climb out of the trunk.

  When she was able to stand, she clutched her robe tightly around her, and Alex touched her hand. “Whatever happened, you’re safe now.”

  Thank goodness.

  * * *

  Pepper didn’t remember a thing. She couldn’t explain the disorder in her house or how she had wound up in the trunk of her car wearing only a bathrobe. Alex stood by, gnawing on her thumbnail, while Jack spoke to Pepper, who was now sitting in her living room. “Do you remember anything about this morning? Your laptop was open on your desk. Do you recall what you were working on?”

  Pepper blinked, and her fingers sought her temples. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember anything.”

  “Do you mind if I check you for injuries?” Jack asked.

  “No, go ahead.”

  Jack rose and gently touched her head, checking for blood. “Does this hurt?”

  “No.”

  He moved his hands to her neck, shoulders, arms, and legs, but there was nothing. No wounds, no bumps, no soreness—only memory loss. Jack nodded at his colleagues. “Call an ambulance. She needs to be evaluated.” He turned back to Pepper. “I think you need to go to the hospital for some tests, Miss Bellamy. I’d almost feel better about your memory loss if I could see a bump, but because I don’t, you should rule out other problems.”

  Pepper swallowed and appeared concerned for the first time. The fog in her head must be lifting, Alex thought. “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you, Pepper? Or is there someone I should call?”

  Pepper’s gaze wavered as she turned to Alex. “Alex.” She leaned forward in confusion. “Why are you here?”

  “I just—stopped by to talk to you about some things,” Alex said. She didn’t want to say anything in front of Jack, who was following her every move. “I’m the one who found you here,” she added. She deserved at least a little credit for that.

  “Oh.” Pepper frowned as she struggled to piece the information together. “What were we going to talk about?”

  Oh boy, Alex thought. Did Pepper really not remember all of the things she’d been writing about the Sobieskis? She chewed on her lower lip as she considered how to answer Pepper’s question. “You told me about some research you were doing. Do you remember? Something about a journal?”

  Pepper blinked a few times and shook her head. “What journal? I’m sorry, I … I don’t remember anything about that.” She glanced down at her hands. “Can someone call my mom? Maybe she can meet me at
the hospital.”

  Jack nodded. “We’ll take care of that. And the ambulance will be here any minute, Alex. You don’t need to stay.” His tone was stern.

  Alex forced a smile. “Yes. Seems like you’ve got everything under control. Pepper, I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll see you later.” She began to walk away.

  “Wait.” Jack caught up with her and touched her shoulder. “About what happened back in the house … it looked strange, with you walking around with a knife and Pepper missing. I hope you understand.”

  His expression was contrite, but Alex wasn’t having it. “You said a lot of things and made a lot of assumptions.”

  “I know, but come on, Alex. You were standing in her office.”

  “Is this an apology, Jack? It’s difficult to tell.”

  He straightened his posture, his eyes looking as sad as she felt. Their friendship had begun with so much promise—how had everything gone wrong? Alex shrugged off her raincoat and flung it over one arm. The sun was peeking through the clouds, and she was getting warm. But Jack stood watching her with his hands on his waist, not moving and not speaking.

  “What?” she finally said in exasperation. He appeared as if he had something more to say, but she didn’t have the time. She waited only a few seconds before giving up. “I’m not a criminal,” she said, hoping to find Jack the friend, not Jack the detective. “Maybe someday you’ll realize that.”

  But the hard planes of his face didn’t soften. “Just be careful.”

  “Yeah. You too,” she said coolly, and headed back down the gravel driveway to the sidewalk.

  * * *

  Later that day, Alex and Minka sat on the back counter at Botanika to talk about what had happened to Pepper. Another day with zero customers, and they were beginning to accept the possibility that this might be the new normal.

  “She forgot everything, Minka,” Alex said. “How is that even possible?”

  Minka scrolled on her cell phone. “Holy cow. Her blog posts are gone, too.”