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

by Annabel Chase

  “Don’t give it another thought,” I said. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what else I have going on.”

  “I really appreciate your help too, Lady Weatherby,” Sheriff Astrid said.

  “It’s nothing, really. I suppose I owe the community a debt before I go.”

  Sheriff Astrid gulped down her drink. “That spell made me thirsty.”

  “One of the downsides, I’m afraid,” the witch said.

  “I’d love to hang out a bit, but I need to go. I have a massive list to catch up on now that I can talk.”

  “Let’s meet tomorrow and talk about our next suspect,” I said. We couldn’t do that in front of Lady Weatherby and I had unfinished business with the witch.

  “Brew-Ha-Ha at nine?” the sheriff asked.

  “Perfect.” That would give me enough time to shower and feed the baby as well as myself.

  I walked the sheriff to the door and when I returned to the dining room, Lady Weatherby was petting Magpie on the mantel. I narrowed my eyes at the hellbeast. Traitor.

  “He acts like a drama queen, but he’s very soft at heart,” she said.

  “Sounds like Gareth,” I said.

  The witch turned to face me. “Now that we’re alone, why don’t you tell me the real reason you asked for my assistance?”

  “Because I didn’t know how to do the spell and didn’t want to put Astrid at risk,” I said.

  She clucked her tongue. “Come now, Ms. Hart. We know each other better than that. You could have had Ginger or even Professor Holmes assist you. Why me?”

  “Because Astrid and Paisley didn’t want anyone to know and I knew you wouldn’t talk.” Because there was no one for her to tell.

  “Everyone in town abhors me now.”

  I wanted to argue that her situation wasn’t my fault, that her behavior had consequences, but I needed her to be in a generous frame of mind. Dragging the past into the light didn’t seem to be the best way to accomplish that. Now that Astrid was taken care of, Agnes was my priority.

  “Can we talk about Agnes now?”

  Lady Weatherby kept her expression neutral. “I should have known this would come up if I came here.”

  I began to tidy up the remnants of the spell before Gareth gave me a hard time about the mess. “Sheriff Astrid needed help and I knew you could do a spell like this with your eyes closed, so it was a win-win. If the price you pay is to talk about Agnes, I think it’s worth it.”

  “Because you have something to gain, whereas I have something very dear to lose.”

  “Please don’t move Agnes away,” I said. “She’ll wilt like a flower that’s been relocated to the desert.”

  The witch’s laugh sounded like it emanated from deep in her throat. “How amusing to compare my mother of all witches to a flower.”

  A shadow fell over the table and I turned to see my father in the entryway. “Is the party still going on?”

  “How’s Diana?” I asked.

  “She has the iron will of her great-grandmother,” he said. “I believe it took five songs and a marathon rocking session to urge her to sleep.”

  “Did Daniel sing?” I asked. My husband’s initial efforts to choose appropriate songs for the baby were enough to give me nightmares, let alone Diana.

  “No, he observed from the corner of the room. I told him he was free to nap in his own room, but he seemed reluctant to leave me alone with the child. He didn’t seem to consider Gareth’s watchful eye an acceptable substitute.”

  Lady Weatherby strode toward the doorway. “I’ll let you two converse in private.”

  Spell’s bells. I didn’t want Lady Weatherby to leave yet, not before we talked more about Agnes. “Please stay. My father was just leaving.”

  He ignored our exchange and seated himself adjacent to me. “I understand you were reprimanded for abuse of power.”

  Lady Weatherby appraised him coolly. “In a nutshell.”

  “In my day, we were free to use our power however we saw fit. There was no one to limit us.”

  “Sounds delightful,” the witch said. The corners of her mouth seemed to be resisting a smile.

  “Father, if you don’t mind, I need to have a serious conversation with Lady Weatherby.”

  “I don’t mind in the slightest,” he said. “Do continue.” He snapped his fingers. “Vampire ghost, won’t you serve us a nice pot of tea? I prefer something with a hint of fruit.”

  Inwardly, I groaned. “Gareth isn’t a servant.”

  “No, but he might as well make himself useful. What else is there for a ghost to do?”

  I drew a deep breath and tried to steady my nerves. My father’s presence was throwing me off balance. I had a whole speech planned in my head, but not anymore.

  “Family, eh?” Lady Weatherby said, picking up on the tension.

  “Exactly,” I said. “You and Agnes would be at each other’s throats if you were left alone together for the rest of her life. She needs her support system.”

  “I am her support system,” Lady Weatherby said. “If that fails, then I will conjure her a support system.”

  My mouth was agape. “You can’t use magic to fix those kinds of problems.”

  “Maybe you can’t, Ms. Hart, but I am certainly capable of it.”

  “Are you going to allow her to insult you like that, sweet pea?” my father asked. “Shall I…?”

  I glared at him. If he offered to smite her, we were going to have a serious issue.

  “Tea as requested,” Gareth said. He floated into the room holding a tray with a tea pot and three cups with saucers. Carefully, he lowered the tray to the table without spilling a drop.

  My father rubbed his hands together. “Excellent work, vanny.”

  Gareth flashed his fangs in an endearing smile. “See? He used my nickname.”

  How had my father managed to charm Gareth into doing his bidding when the vampire ghost trusted him the least? The demigod had skills, that much was certain.

  “I’ll be going now,” Lady Weatherby said. “As I said, I have arrangements to make.”

  “Thank you again,” I said, and she inclined her head before sweeping out of the room.

  “I’ll fetch her cloak,” Gareth offered. “And make sure the door hits her on the way out.”

  “You should have threatened vengeance if she failed to do your bidding,” my father said. His violent words were followed by a genteel sip of tea.

  “This isn’t medieval Europe. It’s Spellbound and we do things differently here. I do things differently.”

  “Perhaps you should reconsider the way you do things if you intend to get what you want.”

  I held up a finger. “If you tell me the ends justify the means, I’m going to have to kick you to the curb.”

  “In my day…”

  “In your day you pillaged and leveled towns. Is that your plan for here? Win me over and then take over Spellbound?”

  He seemed startled by my accusation. “Do you really believe that? I only want you and my granddaughter to reach your optimum level of power. There is so much more you’re capable of…”

  I slapped my hands on the table. “I am not capable of more right now. I’m at my limit.” I immediately regretted raising my voice. That wasn’t like me. I inhaled and adopted a softer tone. “Calix, you’re making life more difficult than it needs to be and I can’t handle that, not now.”

  He seemed affronted. “You called me Calix.”

  “That’s your name,” I said, although I knew perfectly well what he meant.

  “I am simply trying to lend my millennia of experience…”

  I shook my head. “I don’t need your words of wisdom. I have a way of doing things and you’re complicating my life and making everything worse. I couldn’t even have the conversation about Agnes that I wanted to because you parked yourself at the table and made me uncomfortable.”

  Slowly he set his teacup on the table. “I didn’t intend to make you feel uneasy,
dumpling.”

  “It’s not about your intention. It’s about what I actually felt.”

  He grew quiet for a moment. “You truly care about this Agnes, don’t you?”

  “She may be a crabby old witch, but she’s been a good friend to me.” And I’d already lost one crabby old witch when I broke the curse on the town. I couldn’t bear to lose another.

  “I only want the best for my daughter and granddaughter,” he said quietly.

  “You barely know us.”

  His brows drew together. “What does that matter? You’re blood of my blood. Bone of my bone.”

  I pressed my fingers against my temple. “I know. I know. We’re your moon and stars and the powder to your keg, blah blah.”

  “Dearest daughter, you sound vexed.”

  “Maybe because I am. Look, I appreciate you coming here with such an open mind and wanting to get to know me. It should be a dream come true for a girl who lost all parental figures way too young.”

  He regarded me. “Should be?”

  “You were in that supernatural coma for a long time. You should get out in the world and get reacquainted with it. Get to know yourself and how you fit in here.”

  He leaned back with an inscrutable expression. “It sounds as though you no longer desire my presence in Spellbound.”

  “Maybe a break would do us both some good. I can’t worry about your feelings and navigate this new relationship when I’m trying to figure out how to be a mom—a working mom—and everything else. It’s too much.” My heartbeat pounded between my ears.

  “Is this Daniel’s influence?”

  I started. “What? No, of course not. I haven’t even had a chance to talk to him about how I’ve been feeling. That’s how crazy our lives are right now. I should be able to have a frank conversation with my husband.”

  “Yes, you should,” he agreed. “Perhaps marital counseling…”

  I groaned in exasperation. “Daniel isn’t the problem. Our communication is fine. It’s too many external forces at work that’s driving me crazy.”

  “External forces like me,” he said.

  “Well, you’re not helping,” I said. I didn’t apologize, although part of me felt like I should. Dr. Hall had advised me not to stay in the habit of apologizing for my feelings. Of course, the vampire therapist followed up that nugget of wisdom with—it makes you sound pathetic like the human you thought you were.

  “You’d like me to rent a place on the opposite side of town? Perhaps redecorate a cave in the mountains?”

  I rubbed my forehead. “Calix…Father, consider leaving town, at least for a little while. Visit an old friend.”

  “But I don’t wish to miss any more of your life. I’ve already missed so much and Diana is growing by the day. I’m interested to see which powers she manifests so that I can be here to advise her.”

  I bit my lip, desperate to remain resolute. “I can’t worry about what you want right now. I have to worry about what I need and I’m telling you what that is.”

  “I see.” He fell silent, pondering my suggestion.

  Again, I resisted the urge to say I was sorry. If my father sensed any wavering or weakness on my part, I knew he’d dig his heels in. “You’re not going to smite me, are you?”

  He reached over and patted my hand. “Have you learned so little about me in the time we’ve been acquainted? I’m not so quick to anger.”

  Guilt burrowed under my skin. “It isn’t personal, you know.”

  “Of course it is.” His gaze swept the room. “You have no room for a demigod like me. I’m accustomed to ruling the roost. To filling whatever space I’m in. And it’s clear I cannot do that with you.”

  “You don’t have to go far,” I said. “Maybe a trip to Atlantic City. You’d like the roulette wheel and you’d be great at poker.”

  He pressed his lips together and his gaze softened. “I’d prefer to be a father, but I understand your apprehension.” He rose to his feet and kissed the top of my head. “I shall take your words to heart.”

  “Thank you.” As tempted as I was to immediately change my mind and beg forgiveness, I remained seated as he left the room. It was my instinctual fear kicking in and nothing more. It was my experience of abandonment reaching for me and trying to convince me that if he leaves now, he’ll never return.

  I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and jolted. “Emma?” Daniel crouched beside me. “Is everything okay?”

  I smiled through my tears. “No, but it will be. Someday.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Brew-Ha-Ha was fairly quiet when I met Sheriff Astrid at nine o’clock sharp the next morning. We snagged my preferred table by the window without needing to flash the sheriff’s badge and reseat anyone.

  “We need to make a list of all the female werebears in town,” I said. I pulled a pad of paper and a pen from my tote bag and set them on the table between us.

  Sheriff Astrid licked her lips in a thoughtful gesture. “We can start with Brown Betty and Little Leslie.”

  I scribbled down the names and glanced at her. “Are they all going to have alliterative adjectives as part of their names?”

  The Valkyrie laughed. “I guess a lot of them do. There’s Grizzly Gertie.”

  “Gertie doesn’t sound very grizzly.” I pictured a young Drew Barrymore in E.T.

  “You wouldn’t say that if you’ve seen her in a bar brawl. She fights like an ogre on magical enhancers.”

  “So the equivalent of a WWF fighter on steroids?”

  She waved a hand. “Sure. That.”

  “Who else?”

  “Playful Penny. She’s probably the most cheerful of the clan.”

  Although I wrote down her name, I’d already dismissed her. I didn’t associate Lorenzo with cheerful. “Anyone else?”

  “One more. Not-a-Panther Nancy.”

  I frowned. “That’s quite a mouthful.”

  “It’s a long story. Basically, she got mistaken for a werepanther when she was a cub and earned her nickname.”

  “Are they all in the age range that would be attractive to Lorenzo?” As far as I could tell, he hadn’t been an older paranormal creeping on younger women.

  “Not only in the right age range, but they’re all werebears that could bench-press Lorenzo with no problem.”

  That reminded me—“Did you have a chance to check the crime scene for footprints or tire marks?”

  “Britta and I went together, but we didn’t find anything noteworthy. Nice work on that protective spell though. Saw the symbols in the trees.”

  I took a sip of my latte, contemplating where to start. “Now that you can talk again, do you want to divide and conquer? Maybe Britta could take one too?”

  Sheriff Astrid surveyed the room and lowered her voice. “My sister’s still on my list. I’m given her a two-week punishment. Mostly traffic duty, although I sent her over to the Brent’s house to check Travis’s alibi. His wife’s gone to some quilting craft fair in Huckleberry Heights, but she’s due back in a couple days.”

  “A quilting craft fair?” I asked. I could fall asleep just thinking about looking at quilts for days on end. At least I’d be cozy if I did.

  She shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my thing either, but at least no one’s getting hurt.”

  “Depends on how ugly the quilts are to look at. On the plus side, we should be able to get through these werebears quickly. One simple question will help us move on to the next suspect.”

  “You take Penny and Nancy and I’ll take the others,” the sheriff said.

  “Any idea where I can find either one of them?” I asked.

  “Not-a-Panther Nancy works at the deli and Playful Penny hosts sessions at a make-your-own ceramics studio.”

  “I guess I can pick up a sandwich to take home to Daniel,” I said. “He’s been holding down the fort ever since I went back to work.”

  “I thought you were rotating.”

  “We are, but he’s definitely pulling t
he dragon’s share of the load this week until I’m up to speed.”

  Sheriff Astrid stood and picked up her takeaway cup. “If you need to focus on other things, I have my voice back now.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m entrenched now. You know how I am. I have to see this case through.”

  “It’s Lorenzo, Emma. You never liked him.”

  “You know me better than that,” I said. “When did whether I like someone influence whether I chose to help them?”

  She chuckled. “You’re a better paranormal than I am.”

  “That’s not true and you know it,” I said. “You’re the sheriff. Your entire job involves helping those you might not otherwise want to help.”

  The Valkyrie clapped me on the shoulder. “I guess we make quite a pair.”

  We parted ways outside and I headed straight for Pottery Princess since that was the closest and the least likely to be our suspect. The moment I pushed open the door to the shop, I realized my timing was a mistake. They were in the middle of hosting a children’s birthday party. There was a mix of paranormals in attendance. Little horns. Little wings. Each one was more adorable than the last. One of the young pixies noticed me first and offered a toothless grin.

  “I know you,” she said.

  “Do you?” I moved closer so as not to distract the others.

  “You’re the town savior,” she said. “I’m Poppy. I drew a picture of you for school. I used the statue in the town square because I didn’t know what you looked like.” She pursed her lips as she examined me. “You’re shorter than I thought.”

  “I’m not short,” I protested. “Why did you draw a picture of me?”

  “The teacher told us to draw a picture of someone we admire, so I chose you.” She held up the ceramic pot she was in the middle of painting. “I’m a talented artist. Everyone says so.”

  I admired the sparkling rainbow. “That is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I like it. Is it true that your great-grandmother is a goddess of evil?”

  “Oh, is that what you’ve heard? Actually, her name is Nyx and she’s the goddess of lots of things, but not evil.”

  “That’s a relief.” Poppy went back to painting. “Why are you here?”