Magical Dames and Dating Games

by Amy Boyles

  He tsked. “Such venom, Charming Calhoun.”

  I rose and glared at him. “I reserve my venom only for those who’ve earned it. Now.” I brushed my hands. “I’m finished here. Would you please take me to my house?”

  “As you wish.”

  “And do us both a favor.”

  Peek straightened his collar. “What’s that?”

  “Don’t speak to me on the ride over.”

  He smirked. “Done.”

  We reached the house a few minutes later. As soon as I entered, the house shot out a coatrack for my purse, which I hung on one of the arms.

  Rose’s voice drifted from the kitchen. “Charming, is that you?”

  I groaned. The last thing I felt like dealing with was Rose. “Yes. It’s me.”

  She appeared in the doorway, her cheeks red and her eyes wild. “I’ve been so worried about you, what with being alone with that vampire. I thought he might’ve turned you into a smaller version of himself.”

  Pig pranced up beside her and snorted in agreement.

  “Not so lucky,” I said. “Where’s Mama?”

  “Oh, she’s out getting a reverse potion in case you want to drink our blood.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s not happening. I’m still me—a witch. Not a very good one, but a witch all the same.”

  Rose exhaled. “Thank goodness. I mean, you never know with these things. Even if it wasn’t Thorne who turned you, we’d still have to do some sort of reverse spell to see who had turned you into a vampire. You know each vampire has their own special blood.”

  I looked at her in confusion.

  She patted my hand. “Well, maybe you don’t know that. Anyway, we’d have to get a sample of the vampire’s blood and make a customized potion so that we could turn you back to a witch. And even then there’s no guarantee that it would work.”

  I stared at Rose. Not because she blabbered on, though that certainly helped, but because she’d given me an idea.

  “Rose, do you think it’s possible to find out who worked a spell on a particular object?”

  Rose nibbled her bottom lip. “It depends. You can’t always do it and it’s tricky. If it’s something that’s dead, there’s no way—like a dead chicken, for instance. Or even if someone put a spell on a vine. But if the creature is alive, you may be able to see through its eyes and go back to find out what happened.”

  My heart rate jacked way, way up. “Can you work such a spell?”

  Please say yes. Please say yes.

  “Heavens, no,” Rose said, shocked that I’d even ask. “Your mother may be able to, but the sort of folks that dabble with peeling the layers back on someone’s memory usually work with the darker sort of magic.”

  Even though it wasn’t the answer I was looking for, I still grabbed Rose by the shoulders and gave her a big kiss. “Thanks, Rose! You may have just solved the mystery of who killed Frankie.”

  She palmed her cheek and grinned. “Well if I have, you owe me one. I could really use your help with this new girdle spell I’ve been working on. I’m trying to make the girdle so that anyone who wears it appears slimmer.”

  “Oh? And it’s not working?”

  Rose shrugged. “I can’t tell.” She eyed me up and down. “I need a subject that’s a little more hippy than myself.”

  I rubbed my lips together, reining in my anger. “Sure, Rose. I’d love to be your hippy subject. When I can, that is.”

  “Oh, bless you, Charming.”

  I grabbed my purse from the coat tree.

  “Where are you going?” she said, alarmed. “You just got home.”

  A slow smile spread across my lips. “There’s no time to waste. I’ve got a murder to solve. If I’m going to be rid of Eugene, I need to get on it.”

  I said goodbye and headed outside to my car. I bleeped it unlocked and sank onto the seat.

  “What are we doing?” Eugene asked. “What’s your plan?”

  I glanced down at the skull hanging around my neck. “Eugene, how good are you at playing hide-and-seek?”

  He sputtered. I guess the question baffled him. “Well, I don’t know.”

  I put the car in drive and slipped from my spot. Determination filled me from head to toe. “Time to find out.”

  Chapter 18

  “What exactly are we looking for?”

  Eugene and I stood on Frankie’s front steps. I scanned the ground. “I need you to find the cockroaches that wiggled from those black roses.”

  Distaste filled his voice. “Cockroaches?”

  “That’s right. If we can see what they saw, we’ll be able to find out who left the flowers. My guess is, that’s the same person who murdered Frankie.”

  “Hmmm. I’ve never thought about it. It is a cockroach, so one looks like all the rest.”

  “These were different—had a black line running down their back. Very distinct.”

  Eugene lifted from my neck. “I’ll see what I can find.”

  The skull zipped into the bushes. The flora rustled. I turned around to make sure Thorne nor one of his goons—I mean deputies—was lurking in a nearby parking spot or anywhere else close by.

  I waited patiently while Eugene prattled on. “Not there. No, that’s not one of them. Get back here, you sucker, let me take a look at you.” And finally, “I found one! Charming, I’ve caught it.”

  That was when I realized I had nowhere to keep the stupid creature. In my rush to get over and find one of the cardboard chewers, I completely forgot to pick up—I don’t know, a mason jar or Tupperware container.

  My batting average for the day was dismal. Eugene rose from the bush, a green leaf stuck in its eye socket.

  I pointed to the not-so-vacant hole. “Oh, you’ve got something in there.”

  He turned left and right. “Where?”

  “Your eye. Hold still.” Then against all that made sense in my world, I plucked the greenery from the tunnel, managing not to vomit. Though I did taste the iron tinge of bile as it surged up the back of my throat.

  I dropped the leaf. “Where’s the cockroach?”

  “Right here.” Eugene pivoted and the cockroach sailed from the bush, its legs swimming in the air.

  I studied the two-inch long terrifying creature. “That’s it. That’s the one.”

  “I may only be a skull, but I have my uses,” Eugene said proudly.

  “Great. Now we need to take it to a friend of mine. She may have an idea of who in this town can help us.”

  “What are we going to put it in?” Eugene asked.

  I cringed. “I forgot to bring something. But do you think we could put it in your eye socket? It held the leaf pretty good.”

  “Hmmm,” Eugene said. “Let me think about it.”

  A few minutes later the cockroach peeked out from Eugene’s empty socket and we were heading over to see my friend Blaire Fireclaw in Fire Town.

  Blaire gave me a warm welcome. She offered a cup of coffee with a shot of gingerbread flavoring.

  “Yes, please,” I said.

  The store was empty, so we set up at a small table she kept in her back room.

  Blaire swept her red hair up into a messy bun. Her green eyes sparkled with interest.

  “Heard you’ve been dating that hot stuff chief of police.”

  I choked on the coffee and grabbed a napkin, nearly spitting half a mouthful into it. “Oh?” I croaked. “You heard.”

  “Mmm hmm. Some folks saw you out.” She patted my hand. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Half the women in this town won’t admit it, but they’d faint if Thorne paid them even a tiny hint of attention. They think he’s to die for.”

  I scoffed. “If they had to deal with his vampire friends, they wouldn’t think so.”

  “Oh no?”

  I shook my head. “No. Peek, one of his deputies, is horrible. Just the rudest.” I narrowed my eyes as an idea formed in my head. “Maybe I should pretend I know who Peek’s soul mate is and then set him
up with a lizard.”

  Blaire laughed. “Too funny. I would kill to see that.”

  “Me too,” I admitted. “But anyway, I’m not here to discuss Thorne.”

  “I didn’t think so. What’s up?”

  “Well, I have a magic question for you.”

  Blaire refilled her coffee cup and then mine. “Shoot.”

  “If you wanted to look back in something’s memory, say an animal, which witch would know how to do that?”

  She cocked her chin as she thought. “You mean in town.”

  “Right.”

  “Well,” she said slowly, “let me think about that. The sort of magic you’re requiring isn’t exactly run-of-the-mill. You’d need a witch with experience, someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told. I’m not capable, and I need to find someone with discretion who is.”

  Blaire snapped her fingers. “I know who can do it, but you might not like it.”

  “I’ll take anyone I can at this point.”

  “The Rush twins.”

  I groaned. “Can’t you think of anyone else besides them?”

  “Afraid not. They won’t tell anyone what you wanted, and they’re just slimy enough to have worked that sort of spell in the past. I said you wouldn’t like it, but it’s the best option I can think of.”

  I sighed into my steaming cup of gingerbread coffee. “Okay. I guess I’ll talk to them.”

  “In the meantime,” Blaire said, “maybe we could have a girls’ night sometime soon.”

  I nodded enthusiastically. “I would love that. Maybe after all this craziness surrounding Frankie’s death calms down.”

  And my mother is no longer a suspect.

  Blaire smiled. “That would be great.”

  I left Blaire’s and hopped into my car.

  “Did you find someone?” Eugene asked.

  I’d left him tucked under the seat because first of all, I didn’t want to wear a skull with a live cockroach around my neck.

  Secondly, I didn’t want to wear a skull with a live cockroach around my neck.

  I had strong feelings about this.

  Since Witch Memorabilia, the store that the Rush twins ran, was just down the street, I grabbed Eugene, stuffed him in my purse and strode down the sidewalk.

  When I entered the store, I found both twins behind the counter. The store was filled with figurines of witches, castles, dragons, Merlins, anything that had to do with magic. The stuff was all made in China and heavily overpriced, but tourists didn’t generally care about that.

  The twins took one look at me and then shot each other loaded glances.

  “Good to see y’all too,” I murmured.

  Sweet, a lithe blonde woman, greeted me first. “Charming, are you here to ask us about a possibly illegal spell, something completely unethical like you did last time?”

  She said it without any inflection, like a murderous child in a Stephen King book. She gave me the willies big-time.

  “Um, well actually…”

  “I say she is,” Sawyer said. He had the same color hair but his was spiked on top. “I say Charming is here to get our expert opinions in some sort of magical dealing that isn’t likely talked about much. Aren’t you, Charming? I was just telling Sweet that today was going to be extra interesting. My horoscope said so, and since my horoscope is also Sweet’s, these things tend to happen to both of us. Isn’t that right, sister?”

  Sweet nodded. “That’s right.” She blinked at me. I don’t know why, but the sheer act of Sweet’s expressionless face blinking made me want to take a shower.

  Since these two were on to me, there was no point trying to hide my intentions.

  “Okay, I need to know how to get a memory out of this.” I dropped Eugene on the table with a thud. “Not the skull, but the cockroach inside it.”

  Sweet and Sawyer exchanged another look. Then Sweet bent down to take a look at the cockroach. “Isn’t he cute? Where did you find him?”

  “In Frankie Firewalker’s bushes, that’s where. I think this little guy may know who killed her.”

  Sawyer stared at the cockroach with disdain. “Please do not mind my sister. She has an affinity for insects that I find rather repulsive. But, in a case like today, her love, if I dare say the word, for such repulsive insects comes in handy.”

  Sweet smiled. “You are just in luck, Charming. Sawyer and I have been playing around with a memory extracting spell for ages. It only works on animals. Not sure if it’ll work on insects and it’s deadly to humans. So on that front it’s a no-go.”

  Sawyer grabbed a box from under the counter and settled it on top. “This should help.”

  I frowned. “Is the magic in there?”

  “No,” he said flatly. “But cockroaches eat cardboard. Let’s give him a meal and then work some magic.”

  Without hesitation Sweet lifted the creature onto the cardboard. “There now, little guy. Let’s get you fed and then see what’s inside you.”

  A few minutes later and Sawyer had put the BE RIGHT BACK sign on the front door and locked it. All the lights were out and the twins stood in front of an empty KFC bucket for chicken that had seen better days—like the ones before it became grease stained.

  “Like I said,” Sweet explained. “This spell usually works on animals. Not sure if it’ll take to this guy, but we can try.”

  “That’s all we can do,” Sawyer said as he dropped powders in the KFC bucket.

  “Are you seriously using that as a cauldron?” I said.

  He nodded. “It’s better if you mix the potion in a container that the animal, or in this case, cockroach, will eat.”

  Whatever.

  Sweet and Sawyer dropped eggshells and feathers, fur and eyeballs into the KFC bucket. They chanted low. Sweet stirred the potion until black smoke curled up from the bowl.

  “It’s ready,” Sweet announced. She pulled a dropper from a bottle and sucked up some of the liquid.

  I pushed forward the box with the cockroach inside. She let a few tears of liquid fall onto the creature’s back.

  “Tell Charming what she wants to know.” Sweet winked at me. “You’re on.”

  I cleared my throat and stared into what I figured were the insect’s eyes. “Who left Frankie the dead flowers on her doorstep?”

  The cockroach’s antennas fanned the air. I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next. I shot Sweet and Sawyer a confused look.

  Before either of them had a chance to answer, the insect shot from the box. It dashed across the counter toward me.

  I withered away.

  “Put your hand back on the table,” Sawyer said.

  I shot him a panicked look. “What?”

  “You want to know who did it; the cockroach will tell you. Put your hand back down.” Sawyer shook his head at Sweet as if to say amateurs. “That’s the only way you’ll know the truth.”

  I slowly eased my hand back onto the cool surface. I shuddered as the roach approached me, feelers swinging up and down. Ever so slowly it padded up my hand, which made me want to barf, and up my arm until it rested on my shoulder.

  “Please don’t tell me it’s going to climb any higher,” I squeaked.

  “It might and it might not,” Sweet said. “But it won’t hurt you.”

  I wasn’t afraid of being hurt; I feared having the thing climb inside my ear, get stuck and never come out.

  The roach moved on, crawling up my neck and stopping right outside my ear.

  It took every bit of willpower inside me not to scream. Seriously. I wanted to die—or kill it. Probably kill it.

  That was what I wanted.

  I shuddered as a tiny voice filled my ear. The roach said the name of the person who had left the bouquet.

  Then it crawled back down my neck and arm, off my hand and straight into Sweet’s open palm.

  Sawyer snapped his fingers, and the lights flared to life. “So. Did you find out the name?” />
  “Yes.” I grabbed a tissue from a box and wiped down every inch of bare skin the roach had touched. “I did.”

  “Can I keep him?” Sweet petted the insect. “I’ll give him a good home.”

  “Keep him. I’ve learned all I need to know.”

  I couldn’t get out of the shop fast enough. As soon as Eugene and I stood on the sidewalk, I inhaled a deep gulp of air and released it slowly, doing everything I could not to hyperventilate.

  “Well?” Eugene said. “What was the name?”

  “Um. No one.”

  “But you told them back there that you got what you wanted.”

  “I lied. I couldn’t stand being in there with that roach any longer. I had to get out.”

  I took long strides toward my car, trying to work out the knot of nerves in my stomach. Once inside, I rested my head on the steering wheel for a moment.

  “Are you okay?” Eugene asked.

  I inhaled sharply. “Yes. I’m fine. Absolutely fine.”

  After starting the engine, I sat there for a minute longer, staring at nothing, the whole time wondering why in the world my mother had left a dead bouquet of flowers for Frankie Firewalker and did that indeed mean that Mama had killed the woman?

  Chapter 19

  I simply couldn’t believe it. Mama had left the roses on Frankie’s door. She’d left them, and that meant she had quite possibly killed Frankie.

  My stomach pretzeled. What was I supposed to do? Confront her? Go back and squash the cockroach who’d told me? Tell Thorne?

  No. Don’t tell Thorne. That was rule number one, obviously. So that left me with…ignore it.

  I cringed. That was even worse. But on top of that, Eugene wouldn’t stop talking. The skull had a voice, and it didn’t intend on ever keeping its mouth shut again.

  “And then when Frankie came here, I knew something big was going to happen. If she’d let me have a voice, I could have warned her but I didn’t. There was no way.”

  He paused. “You know, I don’t think that even once did Frankie consider letting me talk. She was very selfish, in case you didn’t notice.”