by Amy Boyles
Wow. My cousins hadn’t told me that part. They probably didn’t know about it.
“What sort of things did you sell?”
Dicky cleared his throat. “Let’s just say if you wanted a guy to fall hard for you, I could make that happen.”
So he had been selling love potions. “Interesting.”
“It almost got me in jail.” He hitched a shoulder. “So it wasn’t that interesting at all. It was mostly stupid.”
“At least you learned your lesson before something bad happened.”
He hitched another shoulder.
Tension rose in the room. It was thick, heavy. There was something Dicky wasn’t saying. Something that made me want to ask my next question.
“Did something bad happen?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. Whatever it was, Dicky wasn’t going to say it.
“Listen, I’m having a party at my new house tonight.”
Wait. What?
I must’ve looked confused because Dicky laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t be doing any of my old tricks. No one’s handing out potions.”
“Great,” I said. “Is it just a small gathering?”
“I’ve invited a lot of the town. It should be fun.”
The feeling that Dicky Downy was hiding something gnawed my insides. I wanted to know what it was.
The best place to find that out was in his house—snooping.
I didn’t know if Dicky had information that would help Carmen, but why hadn’t he been infected with the giving spell like everyone else? He’d bought a pecan pie with a chocolate bat in it. Yes, he said his parents had eaten one of the cookies I’d given out, but I’d recognized everyone at the bakery Friday morning.
Every single face and no one there had the last name Downy.
There was no doubt about it—Dicky Downy was keeping secrets. Secrets that I needed to unearth if I was going to get Carmen out of jail.
Let’s face it, Farinas Harrell might be a shark in the courtroom, but nothing she’d done so far had pinned the murder on someone else.
It was time to find the real murderer.
I plastered on a big smile. “Sure, Dicky, I’d love to attend your party. See you tonight.”
I closed the store at three after having sold one puppy, one kitten and one rat.
Yes, I sold rats as familiars. Not many witches bought them, but the few that did really loved the little critters.
To each his own, I always say. Or whatever floats your boat.
When I arrived home, I found Cordelia on the couch. The house was quiet.
I pegged my purse. “Where is everybody?”
She glanced up from her crossword puzzle. “They went on a picnic. Collinsworth was crushed. What happened to him?”
I barked a laugh. “Can you believe he paired with Farinas Harrell?”
Cordelia’s jaw dropped. “Satanette herself?”
I laughed tears. I knuckled them away and had to catch my breath. “Yes. Her. They matched but she wouldn’t take him. So he’s devastated. He just lost Lori Lou plus thinks Becky Ray wants him dead for telling me about the potion selling, so he’s pretty vulnerable.”
“Sounds like it.” She tossed the crossword on the table and stretched her arms over her head. “We haven’t had a chance to talk.”
I slumped onto a chair. “About what?”
She gave me a pointed look.
“Oh.” Heat flushed my neck. “You mean Axel.”
“Yes, I mean Axel.” Cordelia pulled her legs to her and hooked an arm around them. “Plenty of people have brought him up, but none of them have done it the right way.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry about my mom and aunt. I wished they’d never said anything at Thanksgiving.”
Wow. Lots of wishing going on with my cousins lately. I paused again, waiting to see if something would change. Would I forget that Mint and Licky had mentioned Axel at Thanksgiving?
Nope. Didn’t happen.
“They didn’t mean it in a bad way,” I said.
Cordelia’s lip twitched. “Listen, I know it’s painful to talk about, but I know the way Axel used to look at you. He loved you, Pepper.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. I stared up at the ceiling, wishing them away. Dang it. I wished I possessed wishing powers.
I exhaled a staggered breath. “Yep. He did. He said he loved me.”
“I think…” She paused. “I know I’m not the most warm and fuzzy person. I know I act like I don’t care about things like feelings.”
“Only when it comes to Amelia.”
We laughed. My cousin tucked a strand of long blonde hair behind an ear. “I know I’m hard on her. But we’re like sisters—we get on each other’s nerves. But anyway, all I wanted to say is if you need to talk about Axel, I’m here.”
“Thanks, but there’s nothing to talk about.” I stared at the ceiling again. “He hasn’t even called.”
“Not for one second do I believe you’ve heard the last of him.”
“I don’t know. He just left.”
She leaned forward. “You and Axel belong together. You just do. He’s coming back. I can feel it. When he got loose and almost killed you, for lack of a better way to say it, it freaked him out. It was too much. That’s his worst nightmare, right? Hurting you? He couldn’t live with himself if he did something like that.”
I hitched a shoulder. “It’s what he said. I know there’s a way to solve it.”
“But he has to figure that out for himself. I’ve known Axel a long time. I mean, the ladies call him Mr. Sexy, for goodness’ sake. He’s a man’s man. He’s all guy, and what guys like to do is solve problems for themselves. It’s not enough you telling him it’s going to be okay. He has to solve the problem.”
I scoffed. “How can he solve this? He becomes a werewolf once a month.”
“He will.” She studied me. “He can. He’ll be back. Don’t give up on him. Unless you’ve already decided you don’t want him.”
My stomach fell to the floor. “I’ve—I don’t know. I just figured I’d mend my broken heart and never lay eyes on him again. I haven’t thought about what would happen if he shows up.”
“It’s something to think about.” She inhaled. “So. What else is going on?”
“Dicky Downy is having a party tonight.”
Her eyebrows ratcheted to the sky. “You’re kidding?”
“No. I’m sure Amelia knows, doesn’t she?”
Cordelia’s lips pinched. “Probably. But she hasn’t said anything.”
I leaned forward. For some reason I felt very conspiratorial. “He came over when you and Betty were sick.”
Her mouth puckered. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“He did.”
“Yeah, I’m not a real fan of Dicky. He’s okay, but not my favorite person.” She paused. “Not that it’s any of my business, but I can’t believe Amelia let him in.” She shook her head in annoyance. “She’s always had a thing for him though, ever since…”
Her gaze darted to the side.
“Ever since what?”
Cordelia pulled her hair over one shoulder and started braiding. “I guess it’s not a huge secret, it just isn’t something we talk about.”
“What? Now I have to know.”
She sighed. “You know Dicky used to have those parties.”
“Yeah. Y’all told me about them.”
Cordelia worked on her braid for a moment. Never in my life had I seen my cousin so interested in a plait of hair.
“Are you avoiding telling me?” I nudged.
She smiled. “I was hoping you’d forget we were talking about him.”
“No luck there.”
“Anyway, Dicky would sell love potions and other stuff at these parties. Well, one time he didn’t sell a love potion, he gave it to a girl he really liked.”
My stomach twisted. “You’re not saying it was Amelia?”
Cordelia nodded. “Yep. Dicky dosed her with a love poti
on. To be honest I’m not sure if it ever totally wore off.”
TWENTY-TWO
Dicky Downy’s party was in full swing. And by swing, I mean swing dancing.
I glanced down at my jeans and boots. “I forgot my poodle skirt.”
Cordelia murmured in my ear. “Yeah, someone should’ve told us to dress up.”
Amelia twirled around in her froufrou outfit. “I told y’all there would be swing music.”
“No you didn’t,” I said.
She shrugged. “I thought I had. Oh well.”
The house was stuffed full of people. It was stuffy, sweaty and smelled like someone had broken a bottle of wine on the floor.
“Can you hold me?”
I glanced down at Collinsworth. Yes, I know the rabbit wasn’t officially invited to the party, and I was sure no one else had brought their pets, but the little guy was still upset about what had happened with Farinas. I guess Lori Lou’s death along with the attorney’s rejection had been too much for his little heart to take.
I scooped him up. “You’re sweaty,” he complained.
“Okay. I’m putting you down.”
“No!” He scrambled into my arms. “No, that’s all right. I’ll stay exactly where I am.”
“Great.”
Dicky Downy wove his way through the crowd. His eyes twinkled when he settled them on Amelia.
“Hey, ladies,” he cooed.
“Hey, yourself.” Amelia beamed. I’m surprised she wasn’t glowing her smile was so bright.
He extended his hand. “You care to join me for a dance?”
Her palm slid over his. “I’d love to.”
“Well.” Cordelia grabbed a cup of punch off a table. “I guess there they go.”
“Is Garrick coming?”
She shook her head. “It’s hard for him to attend things like this. You know, everyone acts weird around him. He can’t relax.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Cordelia handed me a cup of punch. “It’s okay. This way I can keep an eye on Amelia.”
“Have you asked her about Dicky?”
“Yeah.” She leaned back on her slender hips. “So last time Betty had to get involved and heal her. Of course Dicky had bought the potion from who knows where and God only knew what the heck was in that nasty stuff.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s another reason why they’re illegal. A love potion could fry your brain. The ingredients aren’t regulated. It’s like any illegal drug. You never know what it’s actually made of. Anyway, Betty helped Amelia. When she got well, I asked how she felt about Dicky.”
I sipped on the strawberry-flavored drink. Yum. “What’d she say?”
“Get this—Amelia said he was an okay guy. The jerk had just potioned her and she thought he was okay.”
Realization hit me like a swarm of gnats. “So that’s why you don’t know if she ever fully healed.”
“Right. If that happened to you, wouldn’t you say he’s the biggest jerk ever?”
“Yep. You shouldn’t have to potion someone into loving you.”
Cordelia studied me. “No, you shouldn’t.” Her gaze swept over our cousin, who was gleefully dancing with Dicky. “I just wish she realized that.”
I hitched a shoulder. “Maybe she does. Maybe we’re not giving her enough credit.”
“Maybe.” Doubt dripped from her voice. It was so thick I was surprised I didn’t see it land on the floor. Of course, I don’t know what it would’ve looked like. Little letters? Or more like a dry cracker?
Okay, enough of the indulging thoughts.
Collinsworth pawed my neck so hard it felt like claws were digging in.
“What?” I pulled him off. “What’s wrong?”
“Becky Ray.” He pointed across the room. “She’s here. She wants to kill me.”
“She doesn’t want to kill you. Will you settle down?”
Becky Ray scanned the crowd. Her laser-beam gaze landed on us. When it did, her face twisted into a hideous grimace. Red flushed her flesh. She fisted her hands to her sides and stalked across the dance floor toward us.
The point I’d argued with the rabbit—that Becky Ray didn’t want to harm him—got thrown out the window.
Becky Ray looked like she wanted to kill.
Correction, she looked like she wanted to throttle, maim and toss him over a bridge—times one hundred thousand.
“We have to go,” Collinsworth said.
For once I believed him. I nudged Cordelia. “I think Becky Ray’s going to kill the rabbit. We’re getting out of here.”
Cordelia winked. “I got your back, sweet tea witch. I’ll stall her.”
As I raced from the party, I heard Cordelia. “Hey, Becky Ray. You look great tonight. Do something different with your hair?”
I sprinted from the house. Collinsworth clutched my shirt. “Hurry. She’s going to kill me!”
“We’re out the door.”
“Becky Ray won’t stop until she finds me.” For some reason the rabbit was panting. Why was he panting? I was the one doing all the work.
“I’ll hurry.”
I took a moment to glance behind me. Sure enough, freakazoid Becky Ray was speed walking down the street like the Terminator. I fully expected her to drop her human arms and reveal bionic limbs.
“Rabbit, I need to talk to you!”
It sounded more like a warning than a cuddly invitation to tea. I hugged him close. “I won’t let her get you.”
I raced down the street and realized I’d really let my running drop off. I needed to get back into it. It wasn’t like I didn’t have time because I was busy going on any hot dates.
A stitch ticked up my side. We were on Bubbling Cauldron. A line of shops greeted us.
“Go to the bakery,” Collinsworth whispered.
“She’ll be on us like white on rice.” Was he kidding? Wasn’t it the first place she would look?
“You can call the police from there. We’ll lock the door. Hurry!”
I raced to the alley and opened the door. It was unlocked. I dropped Collinsworth on the floor and propped a chair against it, hoping that would stop Becky Ray.
It didn’t.
The front door screeched open. I shot Collinsworth a terrified look. “Quick, the closet!”
How original of me. We started to dash in that direction when Becky’s voice stopped us.
“Hold it right there.”
I put my hands up like she was holding a gun to my back. I wasn’t even looking at her, y’all, but I figured she probably had a gun or something. Why else would she have said hold it?
I shot Collinsworth a terrified look. The poor rabbit had his back to me. He trembled with fear. This Becky Ray had no business harming an innocent rabbit. Okay, he wasn’t that innocent, but he was still only a small bunny. She needed to pick on someone her own size.
I gritted my teeth and turned around. Yes, I still had my hands up.
Becky Ray stood with legs splayed wide and a knife in her hand. “Rabbit, you are dead.”
“Stop it,” I said.
Becky Ray, her curly hair looking like fried hay, shot me a startled look. “I can do whatever I want. That rabbit betrayed me.”
“No, you can’t.” I stamped my foot. “It’s illegal to harm animals. But from the way you’re holding that knife, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the person who killed Lori Lou.”
Yes, I said it. Someone needed to.
Becky Ray’s face twisted in rage. “Why you—”
She didn’t finish her sentence. She shot forward. The knife descended in an arc. It would plunge into my chest. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Y’all, I couldn’t form one coherent thought except, knife!
That didn’t help anything.
Suddenly something hit Becky Ray on the top of the head. She slumped to the ground. The knife clattered across the floor, coming to rest under the counter.
I exhaled a shaky breath. I
glanced up to see Parker Moody standing where Becky had been. He held a cast-iron skillet. A real one, not one for riding.
I reached for him with trembling hands. “Oh my gosh. Thank you. You saved us. She was going to kill us both. I think she murdered her sister.”
Parker slid a hand over his jaw. “Let me tie her up and I’ll call the police.”
A few minutes later Collinsworth and I stood in Magical Moonshine. Parker had hung up with the police, who would be arriving in a few minutes.
“Thank you so much,” I said. “You saved us.”
“Yes, thank you,” Collinsworth said.
“No problem.” Parker motioned to a jar. “I’d offer you some moonshine, but I figure you’d probably prefer something stronger, like coffee.”
I laughed. “Yeah.” Parker was nice. He had a friendly face and a kind smile. I hoped he worked out his differences with his wife. He deserved it. He’d saved me from a murderer.
My cell phone rang. For some reason, even amid all the craziness, I still had my purse slung over my shoulder and my phone in it.
“Excuse me.”
I recognized the number immediately. “Hello?”
“Pepper, do you have a minute?”
I didn’t want to encourage Rufus, but he had been helpful. “What is it?”
“Listen, I found out a little more about Lori Lou.”
I shot Parker a smile. He was busy wiping down a counter. “I think that business is all cleared up.”
“No, listen. I discovered that Lori Lou did leave her last town because of the potion business gone wrong, but she came to Magnolia Cove because she was seeing someone.”
I pressed the phone closer to my ear. “So what? Why is that important?”
He sighed. “According to people, she kept her relationship quiet because the man was involved with someone else. It may have been a motive for murder.”
I numbed. My fingers, my toes, my core—all of me went numb. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Be careful, Pepper.”
I thumbed off the phone. The slip of paper with the phone number on it. I was wearing the same jeans as yesterday. No, I hadn’t washed them because jeans didn’t get dirty quickly, everyone knew that. You could wear a pair several times before washing. That was hand-to-heart gospel truth—ask anyone, even a Baptist. They might not drink in public or dance, but they let their jeans dirty before washing.