by Fitz Molly
I plopped a heaping stack of pancakes onto a plate as I replied, “Eleven. That gives me just enough time to eat and then head over to the barn to set up the reading room.” My aunt had turned the old stables into a peaceful oasis, where she conducted her business.
“I hope Augustus is able to shed some light on who assaulted Rayanne.” Her eyes darkened with worry.
“Me too. No one’s safe in Fiddlehead until those vandals are in custody.”
She looked at me with smug delight. “Sugah, between you and the chief, they don’t stand a chance.”
Hopefully… However, with Gladys in the picture, things were bound to get hairy. “How’s your ankle feeling?” I asked as Aunt Matilda took a seat across from me at the table.
“Much better. The swelling's gone way down.” She held her leg out so I could see it.
“That’s good, but try to stay off it as much as possible.”
“I plan to. After breakfast, I’m goin’ to put my feet up and finish that mystery novel I’ve been readin’. The heroine is startin’ to fall for the chief of police,” she said with a wink.
Aunt Matilda liked to play matchmaker. She’d been doing it my whole life, beginning with Hawk, and look how that worked out. So, although she was good at finding me a love interest, it didn’t last. But that was okay. I was only twenty-four. I had my whole life ahead of me, and right now, having a career was number one on my list. Last spring, I’d graduated from college with a degree in business. My parents had wanted me to major in something useful, and Aunt Matilda had agreed. Although, she had an ulterior motive—become a partner in her business. I went to college for them, and now I was going to do something for me—move to Hollywood and become a star. I know there are thousands of young women with the same dream who wind up back home, broke and disillusioned, but if I didn’t give it a shot, I’d never know if I might have been one of the lucky ones. Besides, Aunt Matilda’s tarot cards agreed that I should go. It would be foolish not to listen to them.
“When Rayanne arrives, would you send her over to the barn?” I asked, before taking the last bite of my pancakes. “I’m going to head over there now.”
“Feel free to use any of my crystals,” she replied.
“Thanks.” Ghost was sprawled out in the middle of the kitchen floor, cleaning her paws, and as I stepped over her, she shot up, nearly causing me to trip.
“That cat is bound to be the death of us,” Aunt Matilda said, sending the animal an angry look.
“Don’t blame Ghost. It’s my fault. Knowing how skittish she is, I should’ve just walked around her.” Especially with Gladys hanging around!
Chapter Five
Aunt Matilda had two reading rooms. One was hers, and the other was for guest psychics. Both had a good feel to them, but Aunt Matilda’s was larger, therefore providing more room for cleansing energy, and I definitely needed that if I hoped to keep Gladys out. I certainly didn’t need for her to try to disrupt my communication with Augustus.
After lighting a couple candles, I went over to the windowsill, where my aunt kept her crystals and selected a lovely moonstone. I was rolling it between my fingers while taking deep relaxing breaths when I heard the barn door open. Could Rayanne be here already? What woman arrives early to an appointment? Not any that I know, I thought with a laugh, as I headed up front to the waiting area.
When I got there, it wasn’t a pretty brunette seated on the velvet-covered loveseat, but Guy Casanova. “Hi! Did we have plans that I forgot?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with a smirk. “But you’re off the hook today. I came to tell you Rayanne can’t make her appointment, so instead, I’ll take you to lunch.”
“Is she okay? Was her head injury worse than we thought?”
“She’s going to be fine, but she does have a concussion. The doctor told her to stay in bed. However, she’d still planned to meet with you today, until she woke up dizzy and with a bad headache. She couldn’t find your number, so she called me.”
“I’m glad she’s heeding the doctor’s orders, but that means I’ll have to talk to Augustus alone.”
“Not until after we have lunch.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Sorry, but I just had a huge breakfast, and I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
His lips puckered with annoyance. “Not even a cup of soup or a small salad? Come on, Esme, have lunch with me. The diner’s special today is Cajun gumbo, your favorite.”
I let out a small sigh. “You really are tempting me. Tell you what, if you take Rayanne’s place and stay while I contact Augustus, then we can go to lunch.”
He shot me a look of disapproval, and his voice was curt when he spoke. “You know how I feel about that kind of stuff. It’s your cup of tea, not mine, and as long as I’m not dragged into it, we’re good.”
“I’m not contacting the spirit world for fun. It’s to find those vandals who terrorized the town last night. I would think you’d want all the info you could get.”
He retained his affability, but there was a distinct hardening of his eyes. “Reliable information is one thing. Following a lead given by a dead person is another.”
“So, we’re not doing lunch then?”
“Guess not.” Guy started to leave, but before he reached the door, he stopped. “I was really looking forward to that gumbo, and I hate to eat alone, so just this one time,” he said, walking back over to me.
I flashed him a huge smile. “Thanks. It’ll be quick. I promise.”
Before heading into the reading room, he pulled me into his arms and whispered against my hair, “You know I can never say no to you. You’ve cast a spell on me, Esme, and there’s no breaking it.”
I looked up at him, and there was a pang of guilt, tightening my chest. I needed to tell him I was moving to L.A. The longer I put it off, the harder it would be…for both of us. But I couldn’t do it now. All of our energy had to go to catching those vandals. After that, I would do it.
His lips pressed against mine, then gently covered my mouth in a slow, thoughtful kiss. Oooh, he really was making it difficult for me to break things off. Not letting the kiss turn into one more intimate, I took hold of his hand and lead him over to a small round table in the center of the room. Once we were both seated, I picked up the moonstone and ran my fingertip over its cool smooth surface, letting its energy flow through me. Augustus Johnson, I welcome you in, I said internally. Chief Casanova and I are trying to find out who stole your urn. Can you help us with that?
I can’t help you with that, kid, but I’m glad you’re working with the chief. He’s a good man. Maybe you should think about settling down.
Grandpa Ed? Now’s really not a good time to chat about my love life. What was it with my relatives trying to fix me up? We’ll talk later, okay?
Sure, kid. Sorry to interrupt. Good luck with solving the crime. Maybe you should become a detective and work fulltime with the chief? Just a thought.
Bye, Grandpa Ed.
“Everything all right?” Guy asked.
“Fine, why?”
“Because you’re scowling.”
“I am? I didn’t realize that,” I said, running a finger over my brow. “I need to stop doing that or I’ll get wrinkles.”
Guy chuckled. “You don’t need to worry about that for a long time. Did you contact Augustus?”
“Not yet. My Grandpa Ed popped in. He has a tendency to do that. Usually at the worst times… I’m going to try Augustus again. Just give me a minute to get back in the zone.” I closed my eyes, took a couple of deep breaths, and then tried to reach the spirit. A moment later, I got a response.
I should’ve done something to help, Rayanne, but my energy’s never been good down in that basement. I’m just glad she wasn’t severely hurt.
Do you know who attacked her? I asked.
It was a tall, thin man. He was dressed all in black and was wearing a mask, but when he raised his arm to strike Rayanne, I got a good look
at his wrist. He had a tattoo of a wolf on it.
Bingo! Aunt Matilda was right. Those wolf shifters did it. Thank you, Augustus! You’ve been a big help.
You will get my urn back, won’t you?
Yes, we’re going to find those criminals, but before we go, would you please give a sign that you were here? Guy’s not really a believer in the spirit world, and he might doubt that I actually talked to you. Nothing over the top. Just something subtle would be great.
A moment later, the candles in the middle of the table went out, and then the door to the reading room slammed shut.
“What happened?” Guy asked, jumping to his feet.
“Augustus left.”
“Really? You spoke to him?”
“I did.”
“And? Aren’t you going to fill me in?”
“If you insist.” I got up and went over to him, placing my hands on his shoulders. “Aunt Matilda was right, as usual. She thought the wolf shifters were responsible for the break-ins and Rayanne’s concussion. And Augustus just confirmed it.”
He grinned. “Thanks, Esme.”
“Thank Augustus too.”
“Thank you, Augustus.” His tone was a little less enthusiastic when he said the spirit's name. “I won’t be able to use a ghost to obtain a search warrant, but we can go pay those shifters a visit.”
“I’m ready when you are.”
“Looks like lunch is going to have to wait a little bit longer.”
Chapter Six
The wolf-shifters’ den was on the West side of town on Clancey Hill. The road was long and narrow and bordered by forest, making it dark and shadowy even during the day. I never went to this part of town. Most people didn’t. The wolf-shifters were trouble and had been known to harass innocent travelers. Luckily, I was with Guy. Even the boldest of the gang knew better than to mess with the chief of police. When we pulled up to their shack, a scruffy looking man came out, his narrowed glinting gaze scrutinizing the police car.
“Might be best if you wait here,” Guy said firmly.
“I didn’t come with you to stay in the car. I’ll be fine. After all, I have you to protect me.” I opened the car door before he could respond. All I heard was his heavy sigh as he got out.
It was an unusually hot day for late October, and as we approached the entrance to the shack, the man standing there was noticeably wet with sweat. His pale albino-white skin glistened in the sunlight and his long, straggly black hair was plastered against the sides of his face.
“Whatcha y’all want? Ya know you’re not welcome here, and I don’t care that you’re the police,” he spat through yellowed teeth.
“And I don’t care whether we’re welcome or not. I have reason to believe you and your clan are responsible for a rash of burglaries in town and the assault of a young woman, so I’m going to have a look around.” Guy draped his arm across my shoulders as we pushed our way inside.
The place was dimly lit with the only light coming from one dirty window. There were crumpled up fast food wrappers thrown on the floor and two large cups of soda on a table caked with dirt.
“Anyone here with you?” Guy asked the shifter.
“Nope.”
“Do you always drink more than one soda?” His gaze scanned the room.
“I was extra thirsty,” the man sneered. “In case ya hadn’t noticed, it’s pretty hot today.”
“Where’s the rest of your clan?” Guy asked.
“Workin’, huntin’.” He ran his tongue over his lips as he studied me. I tried not to shudder.
“I’m looking for an urn that was stolen from the Johnson house. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Guy asked.
“What kinda urn?”
“A silver urn that once held Augustus Johnson’s ashes.”
The shifter remained stone-faced. “Don’t know nothin’ about that.”
“Then you won’t mind if I have a look around,” Guy replied as he strolled over to a wooden chest.
While he glanced through it, I checked out the bookcase beside it. There wasn’t an urn, but there was a spellbook with the name Bramble Root Coven on the cover. Fiddlehead Creek was home to two groups of witches: Bramble Root, an appropriate name for a group who practiced dark magic since brambles have sharp, tough thorns that can be dangerous, and Silver Reed— witches of the light. What was odd about the wolves having a spellbook was the fact that shifters and witches were mortal enemies, and they never shared anything. So why would the spellbook be here?
I was about to point it out to Guy but then decided against it. We weren’t having much luck with the shifters. I doubted Bramble Root would be any different. No witch would talk to the chief. I was sure of that. If we were going to find out anything, it looked like I was going to have to discover it alone. Thankfully, I knew someone who used to be a member of the coven. I could use her as an excuse to get inside. I just needed to figure out what the excuse would be.
“Find anything over there?” Guy asked.
“No. How about you?”
“Nothing. I’ll come back later with a search warrant, and then I can thoroughly scan the place.”
“You do that,” the shifter growled. “Until then, get out.”
“Thank you for your time,” Guy replied sarcastically. “I’ll see you later.”
“Don’t count on it.” The man slammed the door behind us.
“That was fun,” I said, walking quickly to the car. The place had given me the creeps, and I wanted to get far, far away from it.
“Ready for some gumbo?”
“Am I ever. I’m getting a bowl.”
Guy laughed. “Glad you found your appetite.”
“At least I found something. Talk about striking out,” I replied sadly.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find the urn,” Guy said, reaching for my hand to squeeze it.
“But it’s looking less likely it’s going to be in time for Halloween,” I said glumly.
He shook his head. “I told you that yesterday.”
“I know, but I thought with Augustus’s help, it might happen. I should’ve known spirits could only do so much.”
“Let this be a lesson, Esme. You rely too heavily on the paranormal.”
He was right, and, thankfully, I would soon be off to L.A., leaving Fiddlehead Creek and all its quirkiness behind.
Guy didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t answer. In fact, we drove to Fiddlehead Diner in silence. Not an uncomfortable one, though. Just one where we were both lost in thought, yet secure enough with each other that that was okay.
It was well after lunchtime when we arrived, but the place was still busy. There wasn’t a time of day when you didn’t have to wait for a table.
“Want to sit at the counter?” Guy asked after realizing it might be some time before we were seated, otherwise.
“Sure, that’s fine. Just give me some gumbo, and I’ll be happy.”
He flashed me a dazzling smile as he sat beside me on a stool. “You’re an easy date.”
“I can be difficult if you’d like,” I quipped.
His dark eyes peered at me intently. “No. Don’t change. Not ever. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
Guy had a way of saying the right thing at the right time, making me feel like I was the most important woman in the world. He was charming, charismatic, and always a gentleman, so why was I leaving him?
“Here you go.” A waitress handed me a menu, interrupting my thoughts.
“Oh, I don’t need it,” I remarked, handing it back. “I know what I’m having—a bowl of gumbo and a large iced sweet tea.”
“I’ll have the same,” Guy added before the waitress could hand him a menu too.
“We should probably give Rayanne a call to see how she’s feeling and to bring her up to speed on the urn, don’t you think?” I asked.
“You must’ve read my mind.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket and then dialed Rayanne’s number.
/> While Guy filled her in on the day’s events, the waitress brought over our drinks, and I took a long sip, trying to quench my suddenly parched throat. I hated that he had to tell Rayanne that we had come back from the shifter’s den empty-handed. I knew how disappointed she would be. Not only that. I didn’t like to lose. And I certainly didn’t want to lose to the likes of wolves. The only bright spot was having seen the spellbook.
Maybe those witches would know something that would lead us to the urn.
Thankfully, we didn’t discuss Rayanne or the shifters over lunch. I had enough to digest already, and it was nice to keep the topics light. However, as soon as we were back in the car, Guy brought up the urn.
“You’ll let me know if you hear from Augustus again. I don’t want you following up on any new leads alone,” he said.
“Of course.” And I would. I just wasn’t going to tell him about the spellbook. At least, not yet.
Chapter Seven
The first thing I did when I got home was to run upstairs to my room to get my car keys. The second was to check on Aunt Matilda. I found her in the parlor reading a book. She had her leg propped up on a footstool.
“How’s your ankle doing?” I asked.
She set her book down on her lap. “Almost good as new. How are you? Was Augustus able to help ya find the criminals responsible for stealin’ the urn and attackin’ Rayanne?”
“He confirmed your theory that it was wolf shifters. However, the fascinating part is while we were at their den, I saw a Bramble Root spellbook. Doesn’t that seem odd? I mean, why would shifters have it?”
Aunt Matilda’s brow wrinkled. “That does seem peculiar. I’ve never known those two to be friendly.”
“Exactly.” I beamed. “That’s why I’m going to head over to the coven now to see what I can find out.”
“You, as in by yourself?” Her gaze shifted over to the keyring dangling from my fingers.
My smile quickly faded. “That’s right.”
“Where’s the chief? Why isn’t he going with you?” Her tone was sharp.