Ghoul's Paradise (Spellbound Ever After Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 7)

by Annabel Chase

  “Look at that delicious baby,” Marisol said, glancing up from her cards. I wasn’t entirely certain whether I should take her description literally.

  “Emma, what a lovely surprise,” Darcy said. “We’ve been meaning to stop over, but we know how busy and exhausted you must be. We don’t want to intrude.”

  “How fat do you plan to let this baby get?” Phoebe asked. She stood to inspect Diana’s chubby leg. “You’d better be careful or she’ll end up in a cauldron.”

  I exhaled. “She’s not going to end up in anyone’s cauldron and she’s not fat. She’s a perfectly normal, healthy baby.”

  Octavia, the matriarch of the Minor family, eyed Diana closely. “I’m not so sure about that normal part.”

  “Normal for her genetics,” I clarified.

  Calliope passed the baby to Freya, who rubbed noses with her, inciting a fit of giggles from my daughter.

  “How are you?” I asked, directing the question to Alex.

  The werewolf gave a solemn nod. “Been better.”

  Darcy frowned. “What’s going on?” She took a closer look at her boyfriend. “Alex, are you ill? You look terrible.”

  Freya hugged the baby closer. “If you have an infection, keep it to yourself. We have a baby in our midst.”

  “I don’t have an infection.” Alex closed his eyes and his nostrils flared as he prepared to say the words out loud. “Lorenzo Mancini was murdered last night.”

  Octavia slowly placed her cards on the table. “Say that again.”

  I could tell that Alex wouldn’t be able to get the words out a second time. “Lorenzo Mancini was killed last night,” I said. “He was found in the woods with a branch protruding from his chest.” I omitted the part about the clown costume for my own sanity as well as everyone else’s.

  Phoebe let loose a low whistle. “How about that? The king is dead.”

  Darcy looked at her boyfriend with concern. “Alex, why didn’t you say something?”

  “Honestly, I just wanted to have a normal day for as long as possible before I had to tend to the pack.”

  Darcy’s eyes sparked with fear and I knew what she was thinking.

  “Does this mean you two have to break up if you’re the new alpha?” Phoebe asked.

  Alex kissed Darcy’s shoulder. “Never. I’m the new alpha and the pack will accept my situation. There’s no choice in the matter.”

  Darcy appeared unconvinced. The door knocker sounded and I braced myself for the sheriff’s arrival. This unpleasant conversation was about to take an even more unpleasant but necessary turn.

  “Sheriff Astrid,” Octavia said, as the Valkyrie appeared in the sunroom behind Calliope.

  The sheriff greeted everyone with a perfunctory nod and I realized I didn’t have the voodoo doll with me. I should’ve given it to Diana to play with, although that could have disastrous consequences.

  “The sheriff lost her voice last night,” I said, “but we’d like to speak to Alex alone for a minute if that’s okay.”

  Freya held Diana up in the air and tickled her sides. “Fine with us. The longer you take, the longer we get to play.”

  Alex slid back his chair and stood.

  “This is an outrage,” Octavia boomed.

  “What is?” Calliope asked.

  “They’re clearly about to question him about the death of Lorenzo,” Octavia said.

  “I thought you didn’t approve of him,” Marisol said.

  “I don’t, but he’s with Darcy whether I like it or not, which means he’s one of us.” The formidable harpy was not someone I’d want to upset.

  Phoebe splashed a drop of clear liquid from her flask into her porcelain cup of tea. “Who knows? Maybe he did it. I wouldn’t blame him. Lorenzo was a piece of work.”

  “Would Darcy choose someone capable of cold-blooded murder?” Freya asked. “I think not.”

  “It’s taken how many years for one of you to snag a man?” Octavia said. “I’ll go to Hell in a hand basket before I let her lose this one, furry or not.”

  “Um, I’m right here,” Alex finally said. “But I appreciate the support.”

  The three of us ducked into the kitchen for privacy. Although I knew there was no way Alex was responsible for Lorenzo’s death, I had to ask the hard questions—mainly because Sheriff Astrid couldn’t. “Do you…have anything to confess?”

  Alex seemed momentarily stunned that I’d even asked the question, but he quickly took it in stride. “I get it. Of course I’m a key suspect. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I’m sorry, Alex.” I glanced sideways at the sheriff. “We have an obligation to ask.”

  The Valkyrie nodded in agreement, not even attempting to open her mouth and let out a sneeze.

  “I didn’t kill him,” Alex said. “He wasn’t my favorite paranormal in the world. Heck, I don’t think he was his own mother’s favorite paranormal in the world.”

  “Lorenzo could be difficult,” I agreed. “I know he wasn’t thrilled with your relationship with Darcy either.”

  Alex ruffled his thick waves. “Nope. That’s a fact. As you both know, the whole pack has been unhappy with my relationship.”

  “Did Lorenzo raise the issue with you recently?” I asked.

  Alex hesitated. “Whatever we discussed is confidential pack business. You know I can’t disclose the details.”

  I shot a quick look at the sheriff, who shook her head. “We’re not asking so we can print an article in the newspaper about whether the pack has sanctioned your canoodling with a harpy. We’re asking as part of a murder investigation.”

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets, seemingly resigned. “Please don’t tell anyone. The pack is on edge enough right now. I don’t want them to think they can’t trust me as their alpha.”

  “Sounds like some of them already think that,” I replied.

  The werewolf’s nostrils pulsed. “Lorenzo and I had been having a series of meetings about the pack’s future. He expressed concern about Darcy and let me know that certain members made it known that they wouldn’t support me as the next alpha unless I broke things off with Darcy.”

  “Did they have a werewolf consort in mind for you?” I asked. Alex had once been engaged to a werewolf, but she’d died tragically not long after I moved to Spellbound. Sadly, those were the circumstances under which Alex and I met—and here we were again trying to clear his name in another murder investigation.

  “I believe a few names were tossed around,” he said, “but I told Lorenzo it was a deal breaker. I’d sooner step down than let Darcy go.”

  Sheriff Astrid tried to mime a question, but I had no clue what her strange hand gestures meant. She looked like she was preparing to take flight. I tried to pick up the thread and hoped that I was on the right track.

  “Do you think it’s possible that one of those names was angry that Lorenzo failed to persuade you and decided to take their anger out on the alpha?” I asked, with a quick glance at the sheriff.

  Alex scratched the scruff on his chin. “I wouldn’t rule it out. Lorenzo was always making tough decisions, which means that you end up pleasing some folks and pissing off the rest.”

  Sheriff Astrid jerked her head back and forth in solidarity.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to do this later when you can talk?” I asked.

  Sheriff Astrid motioned for us to continue. I understood her sense of urgency. The pack was distressed and we needed to reassure them, or at least make them feel that we were acting swiftly and efficiently. That would appeal to their sense of order and justice.

  I returned my focus to Alex. “I need those names.”

  Alex groaned. “You know I’ll share them with you, Emma, but I really don’t want any of this getting out there. It could be embarrassing for the pack.”

  I pretended to zip my lips. “I have no interest in embarrassing the pack, Alex. You know that.”

  He seemed to weigh the considerations. “I don’t know whether these ladi
es knew they’d been named as contenders, or whether Lorenzo had his own reasons for choosing them.” He began counting off the names on his fingers. “Tawny, Kay, June, and Bunny.”

  I frowned. “There’s a werewolf named Bunny?”

  He chuckled. “Her real name is Bonita. She’s a real sweetheart, but I already have my own sweetheart.”

  I smiled to myself at the thought of a harpy being referred to as a sweetheart. “Who else knew about these discussions?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. The pack secretary knew that we’d been meeting, although I’m not sure she knew the content of the discussions. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Darcy.”

  “Did Lorenzo have any confidantes?” I asked.

  “He was Lorenzo,” Alex said. “He had minions. He had acolytes. He only would’ve had a confidante if it furthered his own agenda somehow.”

  Alex was right. The werewolf alpha had been a calculating leader. He never would’ve confided in someone for the sake of getting it off his chest. It would’ve had a purpose.

  “What happened during your last meeting?” I asked. “Any disagreements?”

  “No, in fact, we’d decided on a way forward that made me feel better,” Alex said. “Maybe if I’d left disgruntled, I could understand the suspicions, but I left that meeting feeling happy with the outcome. Talk to the secretary. She saw me leave. She can tell you what kind of mood I was in.”

  “Who’s the secretary?” I asked.

  Sheriff Astrid dropped to the ground like she was a snow angel in the dirt. I squinted at her.

  “Eartha?” I asked. Was there an Eartha in the pack?

  “Layla,” Alex said.

  I shook my head at the sheriff. “You really need to work on your charades skills.”

  The Valkyrie hopped to her feet and offered an apologetic smile.

  “I had no reason to hurt Lorenzo,” Alex said. “If anything, I wanted him to stay in the alpha position for as long as possible, at least until Darcy and I were married and had our first pup.”

  I squealed with delight. “You and Darcy are planning a family?”

  Alex shushed me. “That’s strictly confidential.”

  I crossed my heart. “I won’t tell a soul—and neither will Astrid.” She couldn’t right now even if she wanted to.

  The sheriff copied me by crossing her heart and then making the peace sign. She and Britta had no idea how alike they were sometimes.

  “One more question,” I said. “Where were you last evening?”

  “I was with Darcy,” he said. “We went to see a play and had dinner.”

  “I can confirm,” Darcy’s voice called from the sunroom.

  “And so can I,” Phoebe said. She poked her head through the kitchen doorway. “I had to watch them suck face on the doorstep for like an hour after he brought her home.”

  “I don’t think anyone made you watch that,” I said.

  Phoebe pulled a face. “Fine. I chose to watch, but in my defense it was either that or watch my mother pluck her nightly chin hairs.”

  “Nightly?” I waved a hand. “Forget it.” I didn’t want to know the details.

  “Be thankful they’re not feathers,” Octavia yelled.

  I gave Alex a hug. “Hang in there, okay? This too shall pass.”

  “Thanks, Emma.”

  Phoebe jerked her head toward us. “Emma’s feeling up your boyfriend. Do you want me to take her out?”

  Sheriff Astrid tapped her foot on the floor.

  “Take her outside,” Phoebe finished with a sheepish grin.

  “Could I have my baby, please?” I reentered the sunroom in time to intercept her midair between Octavia and Marisol. “Spell’s bells! Are you playing catch with my child?”

  “What? She likes it,” Octavia said. “You can’t wrap this kid in cotton wool her whole life or she’ll grow up to be a whiner like her father.”

  I held Diana and kissed her forehead. “There’s a difference between being overprotective and plain protective.”

  “For some animals, it’s perfectly normal to eat their young,” Octavia said. “I considered it when Phoebe was born, but decided against the extra calories.”

  Phoebe looked unfazed by the revelation.

  “I’ll show myself out,” I said and mentally crossed the Minors off my list of potential babysitters. “We’ll talk again soon, Alex.”

  As I placed her in the stroller outside, Diana curled a strand of my hair around her tiny finger and tugged. “Ouch.” Her ensuing laughter made me uneasy. She’d spent ten minutes with the harpies and already she’d adopted their custom of cruelty for amusement’s sake.

  Sheriff Astrid emerged from the house, an amused expression on her face.

  “We can agree it wasn’t Alex, right?” I asked.

  The sheriff wiggled her hand back and forth, clearly reluctant to commit.

  “He has an airtight alibi,” I said. “Unless you want to go back in there and grill the rest of the Minors.” The sheriff made a cutting gesture across her neck, prompting a smile from me. “I didn’t think so.”

  One murder in Spellbound this week was quite enough.

  Chapter Five

  I wasn’t expecting to meet with a client so soon. Josie had already met with the vandalism client, so I thought I had a little time to adjust to my new schedule. Unfortunately, this client’s case had been fast-tracked due to its ‘three strikes’ nature.

  Baxter Jones perched on the edge of the chair in my office. With his bugged-out eyes, constant twitching, and beaklike nose, he looked ready to take flight at any moment except for the fact that he was a wereferret. My hand rested on his closed file. His movements were so nervous that I thought it would be best to put him at ease before we got started.

  “Can I offer you a drink before we begin?” I asked. Gareth would be proud. That being said, I was tempted to offer him a shot of bourbon to calm his nerves, which would also make Dr. Hall proud. Score—a two-fer!

  “I’m not thirsty.” His fingers never stopped moving. He tapped on the side of the chair, on his thigh, and even on his opposite arm.

  “How about a snack?” I pressed. Maybe if he were eating, he’d focus on the food instead of his current situation. “My assistant can bring you something from Brew-Ha-Ha if you’d like.”

  “She can?” I heard Althea’s muffled voice through the adjoining door.

  I kept my attention on Baxter, who seemed unwilling to relax. “Nothing for me,” he said. “I’m allergic to so many foods, it would be too hard to choose something that won’t kill me.”

  “Is that why you like to hunt on Mr. Falmouth’s property?”

  Before he could respond, the office door opened and Josie breezed inside, clutching a large leather tote bag. She balked at the sight of Baxter. “I didn’t realize we had a meeting today.”

  “Sorry, it’s a new case. I didn’t know about it myself until I got here. Josie McGill meet Baxter Jones.”

  Baxter twitched at the obvious tension in the room. “Do we need to reschedule? Because I’m fine with that.”

  Josie dragged the empty chair beside him so that it was adjacent to mine. “No need. I can handle another case. It’s Emma I’m concerned about. All these late nights you’ve been having. I’m not sure whether you’ll have the brain power to focus on Baxter’s case.”

  I resisted the urge to kick her chair backward. “I’m back from maternity leave with my full brain intact. You know that.”

  “Yes, but the baby doesn’t know that,” Josie said. “She’s not going to suddenly sleep through the night because Mom has to go to work. That’s not how it works. My mom said she nearly had a nervous breakdown after I was born because I kept her so sleep-deprived.”

  “I’m not on the verge of a nervous breakdown,” I said. “What I’m on the verge of is discussing Baxter’s case.”

  Baxter looked at me. “How old is your baby?”

  “That’s not important,” I said. “We’re here to talk about
you, Baxter.”

  “You don’t think your baby’s important?” he queried.

  The back of my neck warmed. “That’s not what I said.”

  “This is your third trespassing offense, Baxter,” Josie interjected. How she’d read the information that fast I had no idea. “If you’re found guilty, you’re going to have to serve time.”

  According to his file, his last two trespassing offenses resulted in community service, but a third offense would mean a mandatory prison time if he was convicted.

  “I’m not guilty,” he said. “One hundred percent innocent.” He lifted his bottom off the chair and tucked his feet underneath.

  Unfortunately, we had our work cut out for us because Baxter was spotted by not one, but two witnesses. Josie got there before I did.

  “Two witnesses spotted you racing across Mr. Falmouth’s property the evening before last,” the wererat said. Her tone was bordering on aggressive and I worried that Baxter would instinctively push back.

  “It wasn’t me,” he insisted. “They must have mistaken me for someone else.”

  I folded my hands on top of the file. “Baxter, we’re representing you in this case and it’s important that you be completely honest with us so that we can provide you with the best possible defense.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. I’m innocent.” Baxter’s movements were rapid-fire. Tap, tap, tap. The foot joined the fingers and I listened for any kind of tempo. Unfortunately, it was simply nervous noise.

  “Baxter, if you had a good reason for being there, then maybe we can help you avoid a prison sentence,” I said. I usually had a good feel for whether a client was telling the truth and my gut told me that Baxter was hiding something.

  “No, your colleague just said it’s my third offense,” he said. “There’s no justification that will keep me out of prison.”

  Josie leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms. “Maybe we should tell the prosecutor he’s guilty and avoid wasting the court’s time. We have this other case…”