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

by Annabel Chase

  Baxter jumped out of his chair, waving his hands. “I am not guilty. I’m not. It must’ve been another paranormal that looked like me.”

  “So if it wasn’t you,” I said, “then where were you two nights ago?” I glanced at the file. “Between six and seven?”

  He hesitated, looking at the closed door to Althea’s office as though the Gorgon might somehow bust in and rescue him. “I was home.”

  “Alone?” I prodded.

  “Yeah, of course. I moved out of my parents’ house when I graduated last year.”

  “It would be more believable if you had an alibi,” Josie said. “We can’t defend you with that.”

  I silenced her with a look. “We work with the facts that we have, Josie. We don’t make them up.”

  Baxter hopped off the chair and started pacing the room, his neck jutting out in a way that reminded me of a chicken. This wereferret was more awkward and anxiety-ridden than any shifter I’d ever seen. My friend Ricardo was a wereferret, but he was smooth as silk. I wondered whether Baxter was born this way or whether something happened to make him so perpetually anxious.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Baxter said. “I came home from work around six and made dinner. Then I read a book until I fell asleep.”

  “Wow. That sounds insanely boring,” Josie said.

  I glared at her. “What did you cook for dinner?”

  Baxter stopped pacing and squeezed his eyes closed, thinking. “Mushroom risotto.”

  “You made it yourself?” I asked, impressed. I’d expected him to say a Greek salad or something.

  “I like to cook,” he said.

  I smiled. “So does my husband. He’s getting better every day with practice. Desserts are his favorite, which is a bonus for my sweet tooth.” Albeit not my waistline.

  This remark seemed to resonate with him. His fidgeting lessened and he met my friendly gaze. “What’s his best dish? I make an excellent burstberry crumble with hemp seed.”

  “He knows how much I love chocolate, so he tries to include some form of chocolate in whatever he makes,” I said.

  Josie mumbled under her breath and I couldn’t make out the words, only the annoyance.

  Baxter perked up. “I have a recipe for white chocolate and banana pudding that will make you marry him all over again.”

  I laughed. “No need for that. I’m fully committed.” I scanned the contents of his file. Usually I was underprepared for first meetings and this case was no exception, but I knew Josie would be watching me like a hawk so I refused to give her the satisfaction of watching me squirm. “It says that both of your former trespassing charges were also on Mr. Falmouth’s property.”

  “Which is another reason this one wasn’t me,” he said. “I swore I’d never go there again. I even signed an agreement.”

  “What’s the allure of his property?” I asked.

  Baxter hesitated. “It’s next to the woods, so he gets more than his fair share of critters. Voles, mice, rabbits.” He shrugged. “The kind of meat I like to eat.”

  “So you were trespassing for the purpose of hunting?” I asked.

  “It’s not like I was hunting his livestock,” Baxter said. “Besides, I hunt in my ferret form anyway. It would’ve been almost impossible to see me.”

  “That’s how you got caught the last time,” I pointed out. “Mr. Falmouth recognized you.”

  “And so did the two witnesses who placed you on Mr. Falmouth’s property this time,” Josie said.

  “First of all, Mr. Falmouth only saw me leaving his property,” Baxter said. “You mentioned that I was racing across the farm. If I’d been running there, it would’ve been in my ferret form to catch something.”

  “The witnesses said unequivocally that it was you,” I said. “No doubt in their minds.”

  “Who were they?” Baxter asked. “I have a right to confront my accusers.”

  “There will be no confrontation prior to the trial,” I warned him, “but I can tell you that both Lexy Simons and Parker Humphries said they recognized you on the property.”

  “Liars,” Baxter said heatedly.

  “Why would they lie?” I asked gently.

  His tapping routine started all over again. “Easy. Parker hates me and Lexy does whatever Parker says.”

  “What did you do to them?” Josie demanded, prompting a sharp look from me.

  “Why does Parker hate you?” I asked. It seemed that Josie had forgotten which team she was on.

  “Because I beat her in the hundred-yard dash at school last year,” Baxter said. “She accused me of cheating because I shifted into my ferret form and blew past them.”

  “Was shifting allowed?” I asked.

  He nodded emphatically. “Everyone was allowed to use whatever skills or powers at their disposal.”

  “And what powers does Parker have?” I asked.

  “She’s a werewolf,” he said. “She’s fast, but not as fast as I am.” His smug smile suggested that this rivalry was more than a one-time event.

  “Do you know why Parker would say she saw you if she didn’t?” I asked. “Do you think it’s revenge for last year’s race or is there something coming up and she wants to sideline you?”

  His expression grew puzzled. “That’s a good question. I don’t know. I mean, I’m not in school anymore, so there aren’t any competitions.”

  “But Parker is in her final year,” I said. “Is there some kind of race that allows recent graduates to participate?

  ”I don’t think so,” he said. “If there is, I don’t know about it.”

  “I’ll find out,” Josie said, making a note on a pad of paper.

  “Do you and Parker have a history of competing with each other?” I asked.

  Baxter cocked his head and looked like the exotic bird that he was. “I guess so. She always accused me of being a special snowflake.”

  “In what way?” I asked.

  “That I still like to hunt my food. She thought it was gross. I’d been given special dispensation in school to spend lunchtime hunting. I think she resented me for being different and, even worse, for being comfortable with it.”

  “I’ve been there,” I said. First I was the only human in town and then the only sorceress. Now I was the only sorceress-demigod hybrid. Daniel had been the only angel in Spellbound for its entire existence. And now Diana would follow that same untrodden path.

  “Is Lexy a werewolf too?” I asked.

  “Weremuskrat,” Baxter said. “But she’s strong for a muskrat. I think that’s why they’re close. Usually the different shifter groups stick to their own kind.” He nodded at Josie. “You know how it is.”

  The wererat gave him a blank look. “Actually I don’t. I’m not from Spellbound originally. I only moved here after the curse was broken.”

  And she probably didn’t have friends of any species, I told myself and then immediately felt guilty for thinking it.

  “Can you think of any other reason the girls would lie about seeing you?” If they knew about his two priors, then they had to know the gravity of their accusation.

  Baxter seemed desperate to come up with something. “They’re teenaged girls. Trouble is their favorite pastime.”

  I folded my hands on the desk and offered a patient smile. “Baxter, as a former teenaged girl, I can promise you that your assessment is inaccurate.”

  The wereferret’s eye began to twitch. “I guess they don’t like me and this is their way of making my life difficult.”

  Inwardly I sighed. It was a flimsy excuse and certainly not enough to win his case. I’d have to do a little digging into the girls’ lives and see if I came up with anything helpful.

  “Thanks for coming in today, Baxter,” I said. “I have enough to get started with.”

  “We have enough to get started,” Josie said. “Why don’t you schedule your next appointment with Althea and we’ll regroup then?”

  “Okay.” Baxter tugged repeatedly on his ear
lobe. As much as I hated to admit it, all his twitching and tugging made him look guilty. “It’s probably a bad idea to ask, but what do you think my chances are?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ve got you covered, Baxter,” I said.

  “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

  I lied straight through my teeth. “Absolutely.”

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked. It felt strange to push my daughter through the cemetery in the middle of the night in a stroller.

  “Absolutely,” my father said.

  I stopped walking and looked at the demigod. “Are you lying to make me feel better?” Could that be genetic?

  My father grinned broadly. “Emma, my delicate flower, you forget yourself. Diana is a descendent of Nyx, goddess of death and darkness. She must learn to be as comfortable under a blanket of darkness as she is basking in the glow of the sun. They are two sides of the same coin. Without darkness, there can be no light.”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes, Dumbledore. I follow. Still, there are other ways of getting accustomed to the dark without traipsing through a cemetery at the witching hour.” An owl hooted spookily from the top of a tree. I turned in the direction of the sound, hands on hips. “Sedgwick, you get down from there right now and stop making that noise. You know it freaks me out.”

  The owl swooped from the tree branch and perched on the top of a headstone. It’s my normal noise. What would you like me to do instead? It would be far creepier if I chortled.

  That’s because nobody actually chortles.

  Sedgwick turned his head halfway around in that freaky way owls had. Where’s Gareth’s number one fan?

  I’m not sure, I said. He isn’t here all night every night. Igor Underkoffler worked the night shift at the cemetery. His scary brother Piotr owned the local funeral home.

  My father bumped me aside and took control of the stroller, surging forward. “Look. A new grave. I suppose that’s for your fallen comrade.”

  I stared at the fresh grave and felt the tension rise in my body. “He wasn’t my friend. In fact, he hated me.”

  My father maneuvered the stroller over a bit of rocky ground. “I find that difficult to believe. How could anyone harbor negative feelings toward someone as amiable as you, poppet?”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re my father,” I said.

  “Nonsense,” he objected. “You are the gentle breeze on a hot night. You are birdsong in the midst of artillery fire. You are…”

  I held up a hand. “I get the picture, thanks.”

  My father gestured toward Lorenzo's grave. “Shall we pay our respects?”

  I gazed at Lorenzo’s headstone, newly carved with the words Alpha. Council member. Brother. Friend. “They forgot to add bully and manipulator.” My hand clamped over my mouth. It wasn’t like me to speak so negatively of someone, certainly not someone who was recently murdered.

  My father looked at me askance. “My clementine, you never cease to surprise me. I suppose that’s what being a parent is all about.”

  “Sheriff Astrid has her work cut out for her,” I said. “Lorenzo had a lot of enemies in this town.”

  “That’s not a surprise,” my father said. “Anyone in any position of power for as long as he was is bound to attract a long list of enemies.”

  Diana chucked her rattle out of the stroller and I bent down to pick it up. When I handed it back to her, her chubby arms jerked up and down with excitement. When I noticed her pinched expression, I groaned.

  “Diana, I just changed you before we left the house. You can’t possibly need a new diaper already.”

  My father patted the compartment on the back of the stroller. “Fear not. We came prepared.” He pulled a diaper out of the compartment. “Shall I do the honors?”

  His words barely registered. I was too focused on Diana. “Hold on. I don’t think she needs to be changed.” Her expression seemed to be connected to something else—something I couldn’t see.

  My father surveyed the cemetery. “Perhaps she senses the presence of others.”

  A shudder ripped through me. “Others?”

  His eyes twinkled. “Daughter, you live with a ghost. I hardly think the presence of others should alarm you.”

  “Do you see someone?” I asked. Diana pointed and my heart skipped a beat.

  My father focused on the same spot as Diana. “I believe your friend is with us.” He paused. “My sincerest apologies. He says you’re not friends, exactly as you told me, princess.”

  “Wait, you can see Lorenzo?” I peered into the darkness but saw nothing.

  “He says that yours is the last face he’s interested in seeing,” my father said. This remark didn’t sit well with my father. “Emma is my child and I’ll thank you to speak kindly of her.”

  I tugged on my father’s sleeve. “Ask who killed him.”

  Diana threw her rattle again. She seemed to be aiming for Lorenzo’s ghost. I hurried to recover it.

  “You see?” my father said to the blank space. “Even a mute child is taking issue with your belligerent words about her mother.”

  “She’s not a mute child,” I said. “She’s just not old enough to talk yet.”

  “How rude.” My father’s body grew tense. “If you weren’t already dead, I’d smite you myself.”

  I smacked my head. “Father, please don’t antagonize him. I can help…”

  My father ushered us away from the grave, aggressively pushing Diana’s stroller. “We’ll not help this dreadful shifter. He deserves nothing but scorn.”

  I glanced helplessly over my shoulder at the empty air. “But his killer…”

  “Trust me, rosebud. You owe him nothing.”

  We blew past the cemetery gates and I finally convinced my father to slow down. “You and Diana could both see him.”

  “I’m certain you could too, if you’d attempt to develop your powers to their full extent.”

  Maybe I would. It would help the town immensely if I could simply go and ask the ghosts what happened. For now, I’d have to find another way to solve Lorenzo’s murder as my father was clearly not going to assist the temperamental werewolf.

  When I looked down, I saw that Diana had fallen asleep. So much for our midnight madness. “We may as well walk her home. She’s not getting used to the nighttime if her eyes are closed.”

  My father leaned over to stroke Diana’s head. The baby didn’t react—a sure sign that she was deeply asleep. “I must say that I enjoy this time with you.”

  “It’s not like we don’t get to spend time together,” I said.

  He kicked a pebble and it catapulted across the ground. “I know, but this is the only part of the day when I get you all to myself.” He glanced down at the stroller. “Well, mostly to myself. I like that we can get to know each other without the presence of your clan.”

  My laugh echoed in the quiet of the night. “My clan? That’s the first time they’ve ever been called that.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s wonderful that you have such loyal followers in your life.”

  “They’re not my followers, Father. Daniel is my husband and Gareth is my friend.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “And the owl?” He scanned the horizon for Sedgwick.

  “The owl is my familiar and I don’t know what I would do without any of them.”

  My father opened his arms. “But you have me now, snickerdoodle. What more could you possibly want? I am your blood. Your true family.”

  I frowned. “Calix…Father, you need to understand something about me.” We’d been over this before, but it seemed like it needed to be repeated. “Blood or not, they are my family. I lost everyone I loved when I lived in the human world. I didn’t even know how lost and lonely I was until I came here. I know it isn’t your fault that we didn’t have a relationship from the beginning, but the fact remains that we’re getting a late start. And that’s okay. We have time.”

  He clapped me on the s
houlder. “Yes, we do. I’ll still be here when they’re long gone.”

  Part of me wanted to be appalled, but I knew that my father was accustomed to outliving people. He seemed to forget, however, that Daniel was an angel and Gareth was a vampire ghost. They weren’t going anywhere. This time I’d been fortunate enough to have a family that couldn’t leave me, at least not against their will.

  Diana gurgled in her sleep and I smiled down at her. “She seems happy even when she’s asleep,” I said.

  My father smiled at me. “Of course she is, my shining star. That’s the wonderful thing about family. Your love nurtures her even when you’re not there. It’s a scientific fact.”

  I smiled as we continued our walk home. Although I disputed the demigod’s version of scientific facts, I appreciated the sentiment all the same.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, I stifled a yawn as I made my way to class at the Arabella St. Simon Academy, or ASS Academy as Spellbound residents affectionately referred to it. My late night in the cemetery wasn’t exactly ideal for mastering the more advanced spells that the High Priestess had insisted we learn. From what I’d been told, she didn’t seem to care about the content as long as the spells were considered above average in terms of difficulty. I wasn’t clear on why this mattered so much to her. It wasn’t as though we were out in the world competing in the National Spell Championships, which I’d recently learned was a real event in the paranormal world.

  “I should’ve stopped for a latte,” I mumbled to myself. There hadn’t been enough time though. I’d spent too long in the house this morning thanks to an unexpected diaper explosion followed by excessive amounts of spit-up. I’d had to change Diana’s outfit twice before nine a.m. No wonder I’d had no time to work on reversing Astrid’s sneezing spell. Every time I attempted to research it, I ended up distracted by something more immediate.

  “Emma, you’re here.” Sophie stood at the back of the classroom, chatting with Meg.

  “I thought I was going to be late,” I said, relieved to see that I wasn’t. I hated being late and I didn’t want to get in the habit of using motherhood as an excuse.