“I like to be on hand in case of emergency,” Althea said.
His head jerked like he was having a spasm. “What kind of emergency requires you to breathe down her neck?”
“As I mentioned during our last meeting, I’m recently back to work from maternity leave,” I said. “Sometimes I forget where something I need might be.” I hated looking like a moron in front of a client, but I knew I would look like a bigger moron if I admitted what had really happened. I’d let myself get into this position because of vanity, pure and simple. It wasn’t exactly a shining moment for me and it would only serve as more ammunition for Josie to claim my spot if she knew. I had to work twice as hard to prove myself, not put myself in ridiculous situations like this.
“It’s because someone’s been filling in for her and moved everything around,” Althea added. “Some folks can be so inconsiderate.”
“You know, I was going to say this last time, but you don’t look like you had a baby recently,” Baxter said. Just as I was about thank him profusely, he added, “I thought maybe you still had a few months to go.”
My spirits plummeted. If Althea hadn’t been propping me up, I would have slid right back to the floor where my self-esteem was.
“Baxter,” Althea said evenly. I knew from her tone that he was in danger of a serious tongue lashing. “Let me give you a bit of advice. Never, ever comment on a woman’s body unless she is somehow related to you, and even then, I would be very mindful of the words that came out of your mouth. Unless you’re issuing a blanket statement like ‘you look beautiful’ or ‘radiant’ or ‘happy’…just no.”
“And never, ever tell a woman she looks tired,” I said.
“Or to smile,” Althea chimed in. “That one results in the girls getting involved.”
“The girls?” Baxter repeated, confused.
Although I couldn’t see her, I knew Althea well enough to know she was motioning to her headscarf.
Baxter pushed back in his seat as though he was trying to blend in with the background. “Basically I should never speak to a woman.”
“That’s not what we’re telling you, child,” Althea said. “We’re saying don’t be a d…”
“Delinquent,” I said. “We want to clear these charges so that you can continue to be a productive member of society.”
“That’s what I want too,” he said. He scooted his butt back to the front of the chair.
“Now, let’s try to focus on your case,” I said. My lips felt like rubber thanks to the spell, but at least they worked. “You mentioned that the witnesses have a history with you. We might be able to use that to discredit them, or even their own history.” I’d meant to check if they’d had their own run-ins with law enforcement, but I hadn’t gotten to it yet. “What more can you tell us about your relationships with…” I glanced down at the file. “Lexy and Parker?”
“They never liked me,” he said. “They were always trying to bully me in school even though I was a year ahead of them.”
“Because you were different?” I asked.
“Right,” he said. “I’m sure they just want to see me get in trouble now that they can’t do anything to me in school.”
“They must not realize how serious the situation is.” My head lolled to the side and Althea quickly straightened it.
Baxter peered at us. “What’s going on? Have you lost control of your muscles or something? That happened to me once after I tried a batch of…” He seemed to realize that he was about to admit to something he shouldn’t.
“I haven’t indulged in any illicit substances,” I said. That was the last thing I needed—a rumor that I was using magic like a drug. Josie would have me out of here lickety-split.
“You should know that I spoke to your neighbor,” I said. At least I’d managed to do that much. Despite a part-time schedule, I was still working full-time hours. “She said she saw that you were home, but that was about eight-thirty.”
His face fell. “Maybe because I didn’t need to turn my light on until at least seven. My place gets a lot of natural light.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. She didn’t get home herself until eight.” I could feel my muscles returning to their normal strength the longer we spoke.
“What does that mean?” The fear in Baxter’s eyes tugged at my heartstrings. I didn’t blame him for being so anxious at this point. Our defense was weak, which almost guaranteed a prison sentence.
I grunted and Althea lifted my hand so that I could shuffle through the papers in the file. “It means that we need to dig deeper to show that the witnesses can’t be trusted. The prosecution needs their statements to convict you. Or we prove that you weren’t on Mr. Falmouth’s property at the cited time.”
“Or at all,” he practically shouted. “I wasn’t anywhere in that vicinity that day. Nowhere near. Because I was home, like I said.” There was an unmistakable edge to his voice and I was curious about his emphasis on the vicinity rather than the farm itself.
Althea leaned down to whisper in my ear. “What’s wrong?”
A thought uncoiled in my mind, something that probably should have been considered from the beginning. “Remind me, Baxter. Where exactly is Mr. Falmouth’s property?”
He tapped both sets of fingers on the arms of the chair in a chaotic symphony. “In Spellbound.”
I rolled my eyes—the only move I could do without help. “Yes, I know that. Where in town?”
“Near the Whispering Woods.”
I was relieved when I instinctively moved my arm and it worked. “Thank the gods,” I whispered.
“You’re telling me. I was getting a cramp.” Althea moved to tend to the plants on top of the bookshelf.
“Have you heard the news about Lorenzo Mancini?” I asked.
Baxter began to tap his foot. “The alpha dude?”
“Yes, he was the alpha of the werewolf pack and a member of the town council.”
“I heard he died, but I didn’t know the guy,” Baxter said.
If he didn’t know Lorenzo, what motive could there possibly be to kill him? Unless, of course, he didn’t realize it was Lorenzo. “How do you feel about clowns?”
Baxter laughed and then stopped abruptly. “Oh, you’re not kidding.”
“No.”
“Um. I don’t have strong feelings about clowns either way.”
“That’s unusual.” I felt like everyone had strong opinions about clowns.
He seemed to realize what I was getting at. “You don’t think I had anything to do with that, do you?”
“His body was discovered in the woods not far from where you were seen, racing across property that you knew well.” An escape route?
“A property I knew I wasn’t allowed to be on or I’d go to prison,” he shot back. “Which is why I was not there.” His face reddened and he jumped to his feet. “This is about a trespassing charge. It’s bad enough without my lawyer wanting to throw me to the wolves over a murder charge too.”
“If I threw you to the wolves for murdering their leader, trust me, it would be much worse.”
Baxter looked as though he’d been stricken. “I’ve never hurt anybody. I don’t even kill ants. I move them out of the way so no one steps on them.”
Guilt gnawed at me. “Baxter, I’m sorry, but I had to ask.”
“No, you’re supposed to be figuring out my defense strategy. If I don’t want to get hit with a prison sentence for trespassing, I sure as hell don’t want one for murder.” He started for the door.
“Could you come back and sit down?” I asked. “We’re not finished.”
“Yeah, we are.” He yanked open the door and slammed it behind him.
The good news was that I was fully functional again. The bad news was that I upset my client and still had no obvious way of keeping him out of prison.
“Do you really think he killed Lorenzo?” Althea asked.
“No,” I admitted. “He might be faster than other shifters, but he’s
not stronger.”
“Unless he took Lorenzo by surprise.”
“With a branch to the chest?” I queried. “Lorenzo would’ve had to be blind not to see that coming.” I also didn’t think Baxter had the physical strength required to jam it through the werewolf’s chest.
“It’d be a shame if he went to prison for trespassing simply because he didn’t have an alibi,” Althea said.
I closed the file on my desk. “I need to speak to Parker and Lexy. See if their story holds up. Maybe he’s right and they’re just trying to torment him outside of school.”
“Why don’t you let me do that?” Althea asked. “You have enough going on.”
She wasn’t wrong. “You think you can handle it?”
She gave me a pointed look. “Girl, do you even need to ask that? They’re two teenagers. Plus, I’ll enjoy doing it behind Josie’s back.”
“I aim to please you.” I removed my handbag from the drawer. “Since I’m functional again, I need to get home. I’m meeting Astrid to help her…with a spell.” I didn’t mention the rest of it for Astrid’s sake; I’d promised to keep it quiet.
Althea’s gaze of judgment flicked over me. “A spell? Are you sure you’re the right one for the job?”
Granted, this hadn’t been my finest hour in terms of magic, but I was confident with the plan for Astrid. “If you must know, I’m not doing it alone. I’ve enlisted help.”
Althea’s snakes hissed their approval. “A good leader knows when she’s in over her head.”
“Now you sound like Calix,” I said. “I’m not a leader. I’m just trying to help.”
The Gorgon laughed under her breath. “Emma, honey, whether you acknowledge it or not, you’ve been a leader since the day you got here.”
As I sailed out the door, I thought of the paranormal I’d asked to help me with Astrid’s spell. I felt confident the former head of the coven would have a different opinion on the matter.
Chapter Eleven
Sheriff Astrid had barely made it across the threshold when Gareth started nagging me about my hostess duties.
“Ask her if she’d like a drink,” Gareth prodded.
I turned to face the vampire ghost. “Can she at least make it into the house before I assault her with questions?”
Gareth threw up his hands in disgust. “Some paranormals don’t deserve to own a home.”
“Says the vampire who’d painted his walls black and covered all the windows.”
“I’m a vampire,” he shot back. “It comes with the territory.”
I shook my head, unwilling to engage any further. Gareth had been hiding from the world and his true nature when he’d become dead undead. Only after he was liberated from his corporeal shell did he truly come alive.
“Hey, Astrid. Can I get you anything to drink?” I asked.
The Valkyrie pressed her lips together, afraid to attempt to answer.
“No worries,” I said. “We’ll get the spell underway first and then decide.”
She nodded and I saw the look of gratitude in her blue eyes. A knock on the door interrupted us and I sprang forward to answer it.
“And there’s the help,” I said. I opened the door to greet Lady Weatherby. She stood on the front porch, looking as elegant and intimidating as ever. Her long cloak was a deep shade of plum and her dark hair hung in a long braid down her back. Despite the absence of her antler headdress, she still felt every inch the authority figure she’d once been.
The sheriff recoiled, clearly surprised to see our special guest. I probably should’ve warned her, but I didn’t want her to lodge a silent protest.
“Sheriff,” Lady Weatherby said. “I understand you’re in need of magical assistance.”
“I didn’t want to ask the coven or your mother,” I explained. “We’re trying to keep her condition as quiet as possible, especially if we can’t reverse the spell.”
Lady Weatherby looked down her aquiline nose at me. “Witch, please. Whatever mediocre magic that’s been practiced here, I have every confidence that I can reverse it.”
Gareth stifled a laugh, not that he had to—no one else could hear him anyway.
“Technically, it wasn’t done here,” I said, although I knew the point was irrelevant. I just didn’t want her to think I was responsible for the spell in the first place. Despite everything that happened between us, there was still a small part of me that sought her approval. Dr. Hall said it was because I lost my birth mother and my adoptive mother so young, that I longed for the approval of a female authority figure, never mind that this one would’ve walked over my corpse to get what she wanted.
Lady Weatherby slipped off her cloak and handed it to me. “Where are we conjuring the spell?”
“I thought the dining room would work.”
Upstairs, I heard Diana’s faint cry. Lady Weatherby’s gaze drifted upward. “Ah, the child.”
“She won’t be a problem,” I said. “Daniel is staying upstairs with her.”
“Such a devoted father already.” She sounded almost whimsical, probably because her own father hadn’t been a part of her life. “And Gareth? Is the vampire with us?”
“He’s right here,” I said. To demonstrate, I gave him the plum-colored cloak to hold. It hovered in the air, drawing a pleased expression from Lady Weatherby.
“You’ve mastered a few skills, I see. Well done.”
“He worked very hard with Lyla Grey,” I said. “It’s come in handy with Diana. No one is more fastidious than Gareth when it comes to child safety and the latest recommendations.”
“Tell her I’m a vanny,” Gareth said proudly.
I ignored him. Lady Weatherby wouldn’t be as amused by the vampire-nanny-man combo as the rest of us. A sense of humor had never been one of her strengths.
The sound of wind chimes startled me. Everyone involved in the spell was here, so I had no idea who was on the porch. Before I opened the door, I recognized the silhouette of my father. Ugh. Not the best timing.
“Hi,” I said. Out of sheer awkwardness, I couldn’t decide whether to call him Calix or Father, so I kept it simple.
“Greetings, benevolent daughter.” He crossed the threshold and seemed to notice my company for the first time. “Apologies. I didn’t realize you had guests.”
“We’re having an official meeting,” I said. Sort of.
He offered a slight bow. “I don’t mean to interrupt. I was hoping to see my beloved granddaughter.”
“She’s upstairs with Daniel.”
“Awake?” He looked so hopeful that I felt a pang of guilt for not wanting him here right now.
“If the use of her lungs is any indication, then yes,” I said.
My father darted up the stairs before I could stop him. Good luck with that, Daniel.
Gareth hung the cloak on the bannister. “I’ll have a wee look in the nursery and see that he’s not causing any trouble.”
I nodded. I knew Gareth still didn’t trust the demigod. I wasn’t sure whether I did either, but he’d given me no reason not to and it wasn’t my style to be skeptical.
“Shall we?” Lady Weatherby seemed eager to get on with the spell. “I have packing to do.”
I balled my hands into fists at the mention of her move. Now wasn’t the time to talk about Agnes, as much as I wanted to try again. I still needed to sit down with the High Priestess and see whether I could get her on board.
I guided them into the dining room where I already had the necessary items assembled. Lady Weatherby had sent a list via Elf Express, so I made sure to have everything ready in advance. I didn’t want to invite them over only to discover that I was missing a critical herb.
Sheriff Astrid sat in the chair at the end of the table facing the entryway. Lady Weatherby took a moment to inspect the items on the table and give her approval.
“Where did you find the fizzlewick stick?” she asked. “I searched for one myself and didn’t have any luck.”
“Wish Mar
ket,” I said. The item was easily purchased and I wondered whether residents were hesitant to sell any magical ingredients to a known criminal.
Lady Weatherby took a seat across from the sheriff. “I’ll guide you through the spell whenever you’re ready.”
I slid into the chair at the head of the table. “Ready.”
“Light the candle,” Lady Weatherby instructed. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of my mortar and pestle. “This is what you use?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
She touched it as though it burned the skin of her fingers. “It’s made of wood.”
“Olive wood. What’s wrong with that?”
The witch tried to shake off her discomfort. “Nothing, I forget sometimes that you’re not a true witch.”
Magpie streaked into the dining room and launched himself onto the table, scattering the herbs everywhere. The hellbeast strutted straight across the table and meowed fiercely in Lady Weatherby’s face.
“Magpie,” I said. “There’s no need for that. She’s here to help.”
The cat gave Lady Weatherby a withering look before jumping to the floor.
“I always liked you,” the witch said, unconcerned.
Magpie wasn’t impressed. The cat hissed again before taking up residence on the mantel over the fireplace and keeping a watchful eye on my guest. As long as he didn’t breathe flames at her and light the room on fire, I’d consider it a win. I’d been trying to persuade Daniel to invest in non-flammable curtains to prevent a tragedy now that we’d discovered Magpie’s hidden talent.
I disappeared into the kitchen for drinks while Lady Weatherby prepared the reversal spell. By the time I returned with a tray, there was haze of purple smoke in the air and Sheriff Astrid was coughing instead of sneezing. A good sign.
“Success?” I asked hopefully.
Sheriff Astrid beamed. “Seems so.”
I cheered and set the tray on the table. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it myself.”
“There’s nothing wrong with needing help. When I need help, I outsource.” She sipped her drink. “Usually to you, which is probably unfair given how busy you are.”
Ghoul's Paradise (Spellbound Ever After Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 7) Page 10