Estele pointed over her shoulder. “That way.”
“Psychic guess?”
“No. I saw stacks of produce.”
He steered the basket toward pyramids of cantaloupes and limes and added some fresh fruit to the cart. Onions, carrots, fresh garlic, and cilantro were selected next.
She grinned. “Looks so homey, like real grocery shopping should. My basket never looks like that.”
“I need a few more things. What about breakfast?”
Surprise registered on her face. “What about it?”
“We’ll be hungry in the morning, and I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a tough day. Another trip to the fairgrounds. More recon. I should get some eggs.”
“Eggs? I usually just have coffee, which I have plenty of.” She glanced up at him. “You’re really spending the night at my house?”
“Yes. For your protection.”
She scanned the contents of the cart. “Gosh, we’re buying a lot of stuff. If you’re going to make pozole, don’t forget the carnitas. We should swing by the butcher case.”
“Point the way.”
Standing at the front of the cart, she pulled it toward the back of the store like a tugboat guiding a cargo ship safely into harbor. “Ah, the liquor aisle. I’ll get some rum.”
He reached for a quality brand. “Dark, white, spiced rum?”
“I don’t think it matters.” She shrugged. “It’s not for drinking. The captain’s only going to sniff it.”
Sniff it? What the hell was that about? “Okay. You choose.”
She selected a pint bottle and added it to the rest of their groceries. “Let’s get the dark.”
He was unclear on who this person was and it occurred to him that it might turn into a security problem. “Who is the captain?”
“My roommate.”
“Trustworthy?”
“Not a bit. I can’t turn my back on my things for a minute, but he is sort of sweet.”
The captain’s presence, whoever he was, was an added complication in an already tricky situation. Why had he not considered this obstacle sooner? “How will the captain react to you bringing me home?”
“He’ll be shocked of course. The captain’s old-school.”
He smelled the unmistakable ammonia-tinged scent of seafood long before he saw it. At this time of night in a neighborhood market, the selections were picked over. Several whole sea bass lay across the shaved ice, their glassy eyes staring into space. The butcher’s case had empty spots. A whole pig’s head sat on a tray with its snout open as if it were grinning.
“No, no, no.” Estele wagged her finger in front of the head. “We are not taking the piggy-head home with us. It would give me nightmares.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get some ground pork.” He rang the service bell and waited. No one came. “Maybe they’re closed?”
“Here’s some ground pork.” She reached into a refrigerated case. “This will work.”
“It’s better fresh.” He leaned over the counter. “Hello, is anyone there?”
In the back room, the lights flickered and went black.
She looked around. “Are we the only people in the store? We are. There’s no one at the checkout stand. This place is deserted. That’s weird.”
A scuttling sound in the back room grabbed his attention. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded scared. “I can’t see anything back there. Sounds like a giant rat flopping around on the floor.”
“It’s not a rat.” The hairs on his neck stood on end. He took hold of Estele’s arm and slowly moved away from the case. “Look.”
The sea bass were flopping back and forth on the mounded ice. Their mouths gaped as if gulping air. The pig head opened its eyes, pitched its ears back, and squealed a hideous screech.
“Holy pork!” Estele screamed in horror and staggered back. “The meat case has been reanimated! Run for your life!”
From the shadows, a clown in a blue polka-dot suit with green hair appeared from behind the case. A smeary red grin split his face in two before he grabbed Estele’s wrist. “Come with me!”
She resisted. “Val, help me!”
With a hard yank, the clown knocked Estele off-balance and dragged her behind the counter. She thrashed wildly, trying to escape. “Let me go, asshole clown!”
Val threw a couple punches, but the clown dodged them with ease, as if he knew in advance where each punch was headed and had all the time in the world to step aside.
In desperation, he picked up a sea bass and used it to smack the clown’s fluffy wig. Splop, splop. The fish made a horrible wet sound on contact with the clown’s head.
The clown was struck across the face and stumbled to the floor, landing on his hands and knees. His body convulsed and contorted as his human shape morphed into something animal-like, and then he raced away on all fours like a rat scurrying into the night.
This was like his worst nightmare come to life. Val tossed the fish back onto the ice and knelt at Estele’s side. “Are you all right?”
Her face was pale and her eyes wide. She pushed up from the floor and stood on wobbly legs. “What the hell just happened?”
He scanned the market. It was eerily silent. “We have to get out of here.”
She rubbed her wrist. “What a grip that creep had! That hurt.”
His instant response was guilt. He’d screwed up. Protecting Estele was his sacred duty, and he was doing a piss-poor job of it. With a gentle hand on her back, he guided her forward and pushed the cart with the other. “Keep walking. I’ll leave a note on the register.”
“We’re not going to pay?”
“There’s no one here to give the money to. Hurry. I don’t want to stay here a second longer than we have to.”
“You mean we’re just going to walk out the door with a cart full of groceries?”
“Yes.”
“That’s looting.”
“It’s practical. Look around. There’s no one here. Do you want to wait at the check stand for the clown to return?”
She shuddered. “No. I’ve had enough of that jacked up jester.”
He stopped at a cashier station and scribbled a quick note on a pad.
“Are you mad? What are you doing?”
The pen was running out of ink. What else could go wrong? “Leaving my name and phone number.”
“You’re volunteering your personal information? Don’t mention me. Believe it or not, I don’t have a criminal record, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I’m sure we’re on a surveillance camera. Hopefully, the psycho clown will show up too. Don’t worry, I’ll return tomorrow and pay for everything.”
They passed a candy display. “Ooo. Junior Mints.” She tossed a box in the cart. “What the hell, I need them. We’re probably already in a lot of trouble anyway.”
“Why should we be in trouble?” He burst through the automatic doors and hustled the cart into the parking lot. “We were shopping and minding our own business. Bozo was the one who assaulted you. We’re the ones who should be calling the cops, except I don’t think they’ll believe us.”
Chapter 6
RUNNING IN HIGH HEELS from violent clowns with stolen groceries—could the day get any crazier? Even by her standards, this was a new low. Estele’s wrist ached where the freak bozo had grabbed her, and despite the balmy evening, she shivered from nerves.
She unlocked the passenger door while keeping a wary eye on Val. “Unload that cart as fast as you can. I need to go home.”
Val brought the cart to a halt. “What was that look for?”
Without meaning to sound snappish, she did. “A disembodied pig’s head screamed at us, and you beat a man to the ground with a fish. I’m a little weirded out right now and I feel like I need a shower.”
He sniffed his shirt. “And a change of clothes.” Packing as many small items as possible into the soup pot, he thrust it in the back seat. Everything else wa
s tossed behind the seat.
Opening the driver side, Estele slipped behind the wheel and slumped forward.
Val pushed the empty cart aside and climbed into the VW. His knees bumped the console. “I know what your car reminds me of. It’s like flying economy.”
As he buckled his seat belt, Val stopped to examine her wrist. His eyes filled with concern. “Good God, you’re bruised.” He brought her wrist to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss. “Poor thing, you’re shaking too. I promise, if I ever catch that clown, I’ll make him sorry.”
His expression was so genuine she paused and allowed it to soak in. No one looked at her that way. It was wonderful and unsettling, but with a priceless ruby in her purse this probably wasn’t the time to develop soft feelings toward a brujo. She had to remain on guard. “Would you even recognize that guy if you saw him again? I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t. You can’t randomly grab clowns off the fairgrounds. What if you get the wrong one?”
He shook his head. “That bastard had no business grabbing you.” His brows sank as he looked at her like she was something fragile set in harm’s way. “Are you sure you’re good to drive? You’re pale and you might be in shock.” He unfastened his seat belt. “Switch places with me. I’ll drive.”
“Wait.” Could this be a brujo trick to take control? How easy would it be to pretend to care, earn her trust, then play into all her little-girl fantasies of having a strong man in her life? She’d always longed for a protector, but never dared admit it. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
He picked up her purse and moved it toward the back seat.
“Stop!” She panicked when his hand lingered near the zipper. What if the ruby glowed and gave itself away and he looked at it? Griselda had entrusted her to defend it. “I want to keep it in my lap.”
“While you drive?” The purse hovered midair. His crooked smile was all too charming. “It’s a big bag, and it looks like it’s ready to slide to the floor and get caught beneath the brake pedal.”
“It won’t.” She firmly took hold of her purse and set it in her lap. When she turned to grab her seat belt, it plopped onto the gearshift. Sheepishly, she set it back.
He untangled the purse strap from the shift. “Are you sure about this? I can hold it on my lap. Safe and sound.”
“Don’t touch it!” Damn. The only thing she’d accomplished was to call attention to her purse. When would she learn to play it cool? She gathered it close.
“What are you being so protective of? What have you got in there, more sneaky spells? Perhaps a sleeping philter to knock me out with?”
Suddenly the whole incident felt terribly awkward and she was full of regrets that it had ever come up. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Actually, you would.” He stared straight ahead. “You dribbled a candor spell on the gum.”
“The spell wasn’t aimed at you. I did try to warn you. Sidhe was just looking out for me in his own ill-advised way.”
He settled uneasily on the seat and made the springs squeak. “I’m here to protect and assist you. Fate has paired us together. I wish you would trust me.”
She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Val! We just met. My trust doesn’t come easily, especially where a brujo is concerned. Slow down, dude.”
Val glanced at her sideways. His keen dark eyes reflected the colorful glow of a neon sign. For several tense moments, unsaid words built behind taut lips like water behind a dam. “What can I do to earn your trust?”
“I don’t know.” Inserting the key, she turned the ignition. The VW rumbled. Being more cautious than usual, she waited until she had the advantage of a green light to pull into her lane. “It’s not a check-this-box type of question. All I know is my weird day got ten times weirder after you came onto the scene.”
“I could say the same thing about you.” His expression softened. “For the sake of San Buena, let’s try to get along and figure out this situation.”
She hit the gas and the car sputtered only slightly faster. “I’ll try.”
“You’ll succeed. What would help in the trust department? I’m still under the effects of the candor spell. I have to tell the truth. Ask me questions and I’ll do my best to answer them.”
Tall, dark, and confident, Val looked like the sort of man women chased. “Okay cray-cray caballero. Are you currently dating anyone? Hold on! Strike that. How many women are you juggling?”
He laughed. “None. Cross my heart. I’m not seeing anyone. God knows I’m ready to. During the last two years of my training in the highlands of Oaxaca, I had to commit 100 percent. The opposite sex was strictly off-limits. What else?”
She glanced in the rearview mirror. “What’s in the duffel bag?”
“Change of clothes, toothbrush, and power tools.”
“Power tools, like a chainsaw?”
“Shamanic power tools. Stuff like sacred herbs, crystals, a medicine bag, and divination tools to stalk power with, and I always travel with a set of quality culinary knives.”
She nodded. “I suppose that’s plausible.” The palm-lined street provided a dramatic foreground against a starry night. Too bad she was spending a lovely night interrogating a brujo.
“Go ahead, ask me more.”
Aha, now she had him. “Are you up to something?”
Looking puzzled, he rubbed his jaw. “What do you mean?”
Why was she bothering to ask when she already knew the answer? “You know, am I going to get hurt?”
Val shrugged. “I promise I have nothing harmful planned.”
Steering onto a roller-coaster-steep street, the VW chugged up hill, forcing her to shift into third gear and then second. “What about unintentionally?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. Unintentionally, like if I stepped on your foot?”
“No! I meant you could draw me in, get me to like you, do nice things for me—”
“Like make pozole?”
“Yes! You just popped into my life, calling yourself a protector and maker of comfort food, and then....”
“What are you afraid of, Estele?”
Should I even be saying this crap out loud? The words stuck in her throat. “I’m afraid that if I give my trust, you’ll take it and then disappear. Men do that sort of thing.”
“Has that happened to you before? I’m sorry if it has.”
Even as she said it, she recognized her mother, Mara’s, sour tone in her words and regretted opening her mouth. “Brujos are everything that’s wrong about the enchantment community, with a hefty dose of machismo factored in.”
“Whoa!” He threw his hands in the air. “That’s pure bigotry. I’m not going to let you say that without a correction. Some brujos are macho, but I’m not.”
His beard stubble, the heavy silver cuff on his wrist, and pointy-toed cowboy boots said otherwise. “You look macho.”
“I’m a food wizard, for crying out loud. I’m more nacho than macho.” He became sullen.
Poor Val. He seemed sincere. Why couldn’t she shut her mouth? “I know exactly what to expect from you. Brujos burst onto the scene, take charge of the situation, and poof, they’re gone, leaving everyone guessing. No further involvement with the consequences of their actions.”
“Are we talking about me or your father, because I’m getting confused.”
Obviously, she was the consequence of her father, Ernesto’s, actions. The thought had been weighing on her since she was old enough to realize she was a living reminder of her mother’s biggest mistake. She almost hit the brakes. “You’re right! My bad. It’s just you’re the first brujo I’ve had contact with in a long while. Everything I’ve been holding inside sort of spilled out.”
“I’ll have to do my best to put brujos in a better light, won’t I?”
“Understatement. I don’t even know why I said all those things. I wanted to shut up but I kept yakking. Do you think I got a contact high from that candor spell? Is that even possible?”
Silence hung in the air. He looked peeved and she was sorry she’d blurted so much. Her difficult past wasn’t his fault.
“Where do you live?”
She pointed toward a row of sparkling lights high atop a ridge. “On Pacific View Drive.”
“I’ll bet you can see all the Channel Islands from there.” His tone softened.
“Almost.”
“It must be nice.”
“It’s pretty in sunlight, but I like it best in fog. Everything’s soft, out of focus, and feels close.”
He smiled but looked sad. “Sounds beautiful.”
Glancing at Val sideways, she couldn’t miss the fact that he was brooding. Why was she so insecure with men? Was this something she could change about herself? She hoped so.
“I was scared to come here today.” Val stared out the window at the hillside lights. “I didn’t know what would be asked of me or what I could offer to the situation, but I had faith I was walking into a just cause. More than anything, I was scared that my ally might be disappointed that fate had assigned a food wizard as her protector. You’re a legacy witch. You were born powerful. I was not. I stand at your side, in your shadow, ready to help.” He turned. “Does any of that sound macho to you?”
“No.” Was that the candor spell speaking? Would he have volunteered any of this on his own? Did it matter? The road wound up the hillside. The VW sputtered as it climbed. On such a clear night, the ocean sparkled all the way to horizon. As they approached her apartment building, Estele grew uneasy. She didn’t entertain, and certainly never a brujo. Who knew what was lurking beneath his warm exterior? For sure he was tempting, but possibly not so good for her. She swung the car into her parking space and set the brake. “We’re here.”
Val looked into the back seat and frowned at the chaotic jumble of groceries. “I’ll unload the car. I don’t want you to make multiple trips up and down the stairs in those heels.”
“Thanks.” Hooking her purse over her shoulder, she got out and locked the driver side. “I’m in apartment thirteen.” She held the delicate handrail as she climbed the pseudo-floating black stairs.
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