by Fiona Roarke
“Astrid will want to know what happened here and she’s also a witness to Max being at work, if you need it.” Bubba glared at the redheaded accuser with disdain.
Max was so unused to anyone sticking up for him, he inhaled deeply to keep from shedding a tear or sniffling in relief. The emotional reaction was another thing he wasn’t used to. He’d never felt so on the edge of any sort of outward reaction. He usually had more control. But here he was about to shed a tear for the third or fourth time in the last twenty-four hours. Did the witches’ spells make him extra weepy or something?
“Thanks. I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” He pointed to a pole at the corner. “We’ve got surveillance of the fountain area. Once I check it out, I’m sure we’ll discover the truth of the matter.”
Max looked up at the indicated camera. He got another undefinable bad feeling, but refused to give any credence to it. The last time a video had freed him after someone planted the arsonist’s lighter on him and yet a second showed he was nowhere near the fire when it was set.
The Sheriff didn’t seem automatically convinced he was guilty. Bubba and Ruby were on his side. Astrid was, too, although no one, himself included, could prove he was at Bubba’s Psychic Readings an hour ago. Max felt in his bones that he hadn’t done anything wrong and did his best to convince his inner paranoid self that everything would be fine.
Sheriff Merrow started herding people away from the scorch mark on the sidewalk as members of the fire department surveyed the damage, marking the space off with black and yellow crime scene tape.
“Let’s go.” Bubba clapped him on the back once. “I’d like to finish our earlier discussion.”
“Just a second.” Max pulled Ruby a few yards away for privacy.
“Are we still meeting at the end of the day for my reading?” she asked.
“Maybe we should reschedule on a day that doesn’t have any explosions in it.”
“That’s fine.”
“But I still want to meet and go have the witches take the spell off.”
“Sure. No problem.” Ruby patted his arm. “I’ll meet you at my office after you get off work, okay?”
“Thanks, Ruby.”
“No problem. Text me when you’re on your way. I’ll see you later. And I’ll even share my chocolate.” She held up the crumpled bag.
“Yes. Okay,” Max said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Also, I really love you, Ruby. I still want to marry you.” He swept her up in a tight hug.
She laughed, hugged him hard, and patted his back. “I know. See you soon.”
Ruby bounced away with her bag of pumpkin spice chocolate as Bubba said in a surprised tone, “You love her and want to marry her? Who is that?”
Max turned to Bubba with some trepidation. “Well, I guess I have one more story to tell you.”
“Sounds like the best one yet.”
You have no idea.
Chapter Twelve
<^> <^> <^>
Ruby had a few more errands to run, including stopping at the bank for some cash. Viktor sent her a text asking where she was and could she come to the mercantile building pronto. It was some sort of emergency. The cashier handed her the receipt along with the cash she’d requested, and counted out the bills carefully.
She moved away to answer the text, but glanced at her account balance on the receipt. Whoa. There was lots of money in her account. Her balance showed the second portion of the fee she’d gotten for finding Max had been deposited.
How can that be? My message barely had time to get to Alienn, Arkansas let alone the far reaches of the galaxy.
“Excuse me,” she asked the cashier, stepping back up to the window. “Can you tell me when the most recent deposit was made to my account?”
The cashier looked on her computer and with a bright smile said, “Today just before noon, an automatic payment was made from an Arkansas bank.”
Huh. That was supernaturally fast. She’d only couriered the package to Alienn, Arkansas that morning. The electronic message may have gotten results faster, but the physical box with Max’s response wouldn’t be there until later today.
She shook her head in wonder as a warm glow spread through her, making her feel good. Capable. Accomplished. Rich. She could easily last for three months on this new bank balance, five if she economized.
Ruby headed back to her office. She’d see Max in an hour. She could finish up the paperwork on his case, or rather his uncle Milo’s case, and file it as resolved since she’d received the final balance.
On her way into the mercantile building, she spotted Viktor leaning on the balcony railing just above her office, clearly watching the door for her arrival. His leather goods store, Hide and Shriek, was just above her business. She realized her financial boon had distracted her from texting him back.
He didn’t look happy. The moment he spotted her, he waved and called down. “Hey, I really need to talk to you. Did you get my text?”
Ruby nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I got your text, but forgot to text back. What’s up?”
“I need to ask you about something.” Viktor sniffed deeply and wiped his nose with a tissue. “Something important.”
“Okay. Come down to my office and we can chat there. Unless you’re sick. I don’t want your cooties.” Viktor looked over his shoulder as if peering into his store. Was he alone today? Surely not. He didn’t run a cash register or anything, he just made the leather goods and had his store manager sell them.
“Cooties. Ha. I’m not sick. I just have allergies, apparently. I’ll be right down.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone says as they fling germs around to infect unsuspecting people.”
The dubious expression on his face didn’t stop him from leaving the railing and heading toward the stairs.
Ruby had time to unlock her door, get inside her office and seat herself behind her desk before Viktor entered through the back, blowing his nose loudly into another tissue.
“If you breathe on me and I get sick, I’m going to turn you into a toad.” It wasn’t truly a threat since she’d never been able to master even basic casting spells, let alone complicated ones.
“No. I’m telling you, it’s an allergy.”
“What are you allergic to?”
“I’m not completely certain, but I have a theory.”
“Do tell.”
Viktor plopped down in the chair in front of her desk. “You know that big loud explosion in the town square a little while ago?”
“Yes. It was sort of hard to miss.”
“I was in the vicinity and the smoke from that fire made me sick.”
“Sick?”
“Well, sneezy.”
“Sneezy? Like one of Disney’s dwarves?”
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.”
“What are you talking about?”
They were all alone in her office, but Viktor looked around like a horde of bandits was about to storm in and take them away from all they’d ever known.
“I think I’m allergic to the smoke from that explosion. At first, I couldn’t stop sneezing. I beat my previous record of thirteen sneezes in a row. Once the smoke dissipated, I stopped but then when I got back to work, uhm, something weird happened.”
“Weird? Define weird.”
“It would be easier to show you.”
“Show me?”
“You really need to see for yourself to understand. Come to my workroom. You’ll see. The thing is, I didn’t mean for it to happen.” They stood up and headed up the back stairs to Viktor’s workshop.
“What did you do?” Ruby pictured something like out of a movie where all of his leather creations came to life and started dancing the macarena around his workshop. A fanciful notion.
“Nothing. I mean, something. But, well, I didn’t mean to do it.”
That did not sound as farfetched as sneezing and having a bunch of dancing leather goods doing a be-bop around the room.
She foll
owed her brother down a hallway to the door to Viktor’s private workshop, where he crafted all his leather goods and wares.
Viktor quickly opened it, ushered her in, then slammed it behind them, threw the dead bolt and led her into the large space of his workshop. Good news—there were no dancing leather projects. The space was much neater than she expected. Several tables around the room held various half-finished projects. Bad news—the weird thing he mentioned, or perhaps the elephant in the room, was the partial dragon form of her other brother, Warrick.
At eight feet tall with a six-foot-long tail trailing behind him, he was hard to miss. The humanoid form wasn’t as handsome as his full dragon shape, in her opinion.
“What did she say?” Warrick asked in his deep dragon voice, sounding panicked.
“Nothing yet. I figured it was best to show her the problem.”
“What is going on here?” She stared at Warrick’s rather impressive eight-foot-tall dragon form and wished she were half something else, too, rather than completely dreadful witch.
“I sneezed, felt a spurt of magic, and must have turned Warrick into his partial dragon form by accident.”
Ruby narrowed her eyes. “Why doesn’t he just change himself back?”
Warrick huffed loudly and a three-foot-long flame shot out of his toothy mouth. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I can’t change myself back. That’s the problem.”
“Our theory is that when I sneezed—”
“Right in my face, by the way,” Warrick added.
“—my half magic side put an accidental spell on Warrick. Now I need to change him back, but I don’t know how, so could you help me?”
“Well, I don’t know what spell changes people into other stuff. Besides, even if I did, you were the one who sneezed the spell, therefore you are the only one who can un-sneeze it.”
“Me?” Viktor went pale. “I don’t know how it happened in the first place.”
“Can we move things along? This isn’t exactly convenient, you know. My wife loves me, but she might have a problem with me permanently like,” Warrick gestured at his large form with one clawed hand, “this.” He started pacing, his tail knocking into table legs as he marched. A half-finished ceramic project started to topple over as he passed it, but Viktor zoomed over to rescue it, using his super-fast vampire power.
Viktor righted the vase that had leather pieces adorning it and moved the breakable piece to the center of the table. “Settle down. I didn’t do this to you on purpose. No need to go-go Godzilla on my workspace, Warrick.”
Their brother huffed again and this time a longer flame shot through his lips, bringing out a lovely enhanced darker grain in the wooden table leg he’d torched. Dragon kissed—there is a reason Warrick’s shop bears that name.
Ruby pondered the problem. “Okay. I have an idea.”
“Great. What?”
She motioned Warrick closer. “I don’t guarantee that this will work, you understand.”
Viktor nodded. “Let’s try it anyway. I’m desperate.”
“You’re desperate? I’m the one stuck like this.” Warrick snorted and a puff of smoke wafted out of his nose, but he also approached them.
Ruby positioned them facing each other then pulled a small investigative kit from her purse. She thought she had a substance that just might work. Retrieving the packet, she poured a small amount of its contents into her palm and resealed and stowed the packet.
Turning to them both she said, “Ready?”
“You aren’t going to make us share our feelings, are you?” Viktor asked, a dubious expression shaping his features.
That earned another snort from Warrick. Viktor danced a step away as Warrick’s dragon flame almost licked the top of his head. A wisp of smoke spiraled from Warrick’s nostrils to the ceiling. His arms, dotted with dragon scales, were crossed over his broad chest, surly attitude fully in place.
“No, you don’t have to share your feelings. Honestly. Both of you close your eyes.”
Once they couldn’t see, Ruby held her cupped palm up and blew fingerprint dust into Viktor’s face. He sneezed hard, right into their brother’s face. Warrick immediately melted from his dragon form back to his human form. Ruby grabbed Viktor by the nose, squeezing for several seconds so he couldn’t sneeze again and repeat the problem.
He breathed through his mouth, smiling.
Warrick said, “Hallelujah. I’m back to regular me again.”
“Tank you, Wooby. It wooked,” Viktor said. His whole posture sagged as if in relief.
Ruby held fast to Viktor’s nose, brushing extra fingerprint dust off his cheeks and forehead. Once he was basically cleaned off, she asked, “Do you feel like you still have to sneeze?”
Viktor shook his head. “Doh.”
“I’m going to let your nose go, but if you feel a sneeze coming on, you’ll have to stop it yourself. Grab your nose and don’t sneeze. Okay?”
Viktor nodded and she cautiously let go.
Warrick grabbed her and hugged her hard. “Thank you so much, Ruby. You’re a lifesaver. I thought I was stuck inside Viktor’s workshop forever.”
Her cheeks heated with the unexpected praise. She wasn’t used to doing something right when it came to spells and the craft.
“Something is obviously wrong with me.” Viktor sniffed twice. Ruby had heard that before and recently with Max and his spells. Did Viktor have a spell on him, as well?
“Besides me, who else have you sneezed on?” Ruby asked.
“No one. But this incident makes me think of the Black and Orange Ball.”
“What happened there? You didn’t set that fire that cleared the place out, did you?”
“No! Of course not. But that was also the night I was very popular with babies and little kids. And I couldn’t control that, either.”
Thinking about the two witches casting their spells on Max made Ruby consider, yet again, spells and drunken witches.
“There weren’t any, let’s say, well-oiled witches who put a spell on you at the Black and Orange Ball, right?”
Viktor’s eyebrows raised up. “I don’t think so.”
“Think back. What were you doing right before noticing that babies were drooling over you, literally?”
“I went to the bathroom. That’s it. Then on the way out all of the babies and little kids I saw giggled as I went by and cried if I tried to leave their presence.”
A text came through her phone, making a noise and distracting her. It was from Max.
I’m off work now and on my way to your office.
See you soon. SLYAWTMY
Max
SLYAWTMY? Wait…still love you and want to marry you?
He was so funny.
“What should I do?” Viktor asked.
“About what?” Ruby looked up to see both brothers staring at her. She momentarily forgot what they’d been discussing.
“Who was that?” they asked in unison.
After a brief pause, she said, “Just a client.” Foolish heat bloomed in her cheeks as she fibbed. Max was a client. So what if she liked him quite a lot. She certainly wasn’t going to tell Viktor or Warrick about him yet.
“Look at that. She has a guilty look on her face,” Warrick said, and grinned.
“Yep. Totally guilty look right there.” Viktor lifted his palm to her face, swirling it around once with a nod.
“Oh, I do not! I’m leaving. Try to stay out of trouble, you two.”
Ruby flipped a wave at them over one shoulder and headed down to her office. She hid the grin shaping her lips.
Back in her office, she finished up the paperwork showing a paid balance for finding and delivering the message to Max and filed it. Next, she opened a preliminary file for Max’s request to find the two witches who’d bespelled him and have the spells removed. She added a notation to discover if anyone named Howard was messing with her man.
Ruby didn’t intend to charge him, of course. This could be her first pro
-bono work. Get drunken spells removed and find out the intended plot of the blue aerosol-wielding menace named Howard. She made a few notes detailing what she’d done at the Pinehurst Inn and hers and Max’s coming appointment with Matilda and Helen.
Patting herself on the back for being generous, she puttered around her office while she waited for Max, cleaning and straightening things.
After half an hour, she wondered what path he’d taken to get to here. Even crawling on his hands and knees, he should have been here in less than fifteen minutes from the main Bubba’s Psychic Readings location.
She texted Max to get an update on his arrival. Another seven agonizing minutes was as long as she could wait with no response. Grabbing her bag, Ruby headed toward Bubba’s on Main Street, hoping to find out where Max had stopped along the way.
Perhaps he’d had a last-minute reading and had to stay at work, but she doubted it.
Halfway to Bubba’s, she decided to pop into the Sheriff’s office. Maybe they’d called him in to meet with the sketch artist, since there had been an explosion today. It had likely thrown everyone’s schedule off.
Ruby entered the station expecting to see Max at Deputy Jenna’s desk with the artist doing a rendering of the perpetrator, but no one was there.
“Can I help you?” said a voice from her right.
Ruby turned to see Birdie, Hank Merrow’s aunt, seated at her usual place in front of the dispatch radio.
“Hi, Birdie. Actually, I’m looking for someone. I thought he might be here with a sketch artist.”
“Sketch artist? Nope, nothing like that going on here.”
“Okay. Well, thanks.” She turned to go.
“Maybe you want to see the prisoner? That’s the only guy here now.”
“No.” Surely not. “I don’t think so. He was a witness, not a suspect.”
“Hmm. Well, sometimes things change when a person least expects it.” Birdie’s expression was set to gossip mode and her smile was mischievous.
“What do you mean?”
“The prisoner we have in custody right now used to be a witness. Pretty soon he’ll likely be headed for the big house.”