Barbecue & Brooms (A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Book 4) Read online

  The racer did as he was asked, but anger still sparked in his eyes. “I want a judgment on whether or not the rankings stand.”

  “And I need you to refer to Horatio either by his name or call him by the position he earned…winner.” I waited for Nana to busy herself in the discussion again, and wiggled my fingers in a sarcastic wave at Earl.

  With a few nods and grunts, the officials backed away. The one that started the race spoke out. “We are declaring that there are no restrictions as to who can enter the amateur races. With no violations occurring, the rankings still stand.”

  The officials dispersed, and Nana finished her conversation with the group I guessed were from the witches’ councils. Earl stood his ground with his arms crossed, spitting more brown liquid onto the grass. “It ain’t over yet.”

  A chuckle burst out of me. “You sound like a villain from a movie. A badly cast one.”

  He smirked. “You tell your big friend there, and any others who don’t belong, to watch their backs.”

  When Nana approached, Earl held up his hands in temporary surrender, walking away. My grandmother shook her head and tsked her tongue. “Let’s go get you some food before the adrenaline wears off and you pass out. Even though I don’t approve that you took a huge risk, I’m actually really proud of you.”

  If my grandmother knew the reason I entered in the first place, she might not be so quick with her admiration. However, I hadn’t been totally wrong when I declared I was choosing myself. Nobody else had earned second place for me. Although it might have been Mason’s magic in me, how I wielded it earned my ranking.

  “You know what, Nana? I’m proud of me, too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The celebrations of our victories didn’t last long. It took three whole pulled pork sandwiches piled high with coleslaw to clear my head. Competing in a broom race may have been awesome, but it didn’t bring us any closer to figuring out how to help Lucky.

  Excusing ourselves from our friend group, I pulled Mason aside. “Did you bring the sapphire with you?”

  The detective pulled the cloth-wrapped lump out of his pocket far enough for me to see. “It makes me nervous carrying this around.”

  “Have you tried to use it to anchor the magic and see if you can pinpoint Lucky’s lost luck yet?” I asked. The doubt in his face gave me my answer. “Look, I say you should just do it and not think about things too much.”

  The detective curled his fingers around the sapphire. “You think I should take the jewel in my hand and find the luck. It’ll be that simple.”

  Nothing would be simple, but we were running out of time. “Talking isn’t gonna get you anywhere. Why not take a chance?” I encouraged him.

  Mason watched the people milling around us. “Maybe we should find a more private spot.”

  I shook my head. “As long as you don’t hold up the gem for all to see, I think you should try right here in the mix of things.”

  “I’m going to look weird with my eyes closed, walking around like a zombie trying to follow some invisible thread,” he complained.

  I hit him with the bristles of his broom. “Hey, I do not look like a zombie when I use my magic. Try to see if you can feel any kind of connection first. Then we’ll go from there.”

  Mason turned his back to shield anyone from seeing him unwrap the sapphire. When he succeeded, he cradled it in his palm. “Here goes nothing.” Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and whispered a spell. “With this sapphire sparkling blue, I’ll use the magic that belongs to you. Find the stolen luck that roams, and bring it back to its true home.”

  His rhyme wasn’t bad, but I didn’t detect any true power behind it. It was odd watching someone else use tracking magic like I did. When I’d traveled for that year away from Honeysuckle, I’d found a few people who possessed some level of the same powers. Each one mastered their skills in different ways and helped me figure out what worked for me.

  I waited for something to happen, but Mason stood in the same spot, scrunching his face. With a grunt, he let out his breath and opened his eyes. “All I can feel is the same thing as before. That what we’re looking for is still in this vicinity.” He wiped his free hand down his disappointed face. “I think anything I do will be a failure.”

  A thought dawned on me and I switched his broom from my left to my right hand, holding it out in front of me. “We’re not done trying yet. You want to know how I did so well today?”

  The detective indulged me despite his gloomy expression. “How?”

  I stepped closer. “Because I didn’t overthink things. When it was time to race, I just went. Once I got into it, I didn’t think about how it wasn’t my magic to begin with or how you might use your skills to fly. I did what I had to do and let my instincts take over.”

  “I don’t think flying around on a broom is the same as using tracking magic to search for something that, if we don’t find it, might cost someone his life.” Mason turned to walk away, but I grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t give up. Not yet,” I insisted, letting my hand glide down his skin until I grasped his hand. “I think you need to forget everything I told you to do. Forget that the magic isn’t even yours and definitely don’t try to rhyme a spell. If it belonged to you from the beginning and you were training to use it while growing up, how would you conjure a spell to make it work?”

  Doubt still lingered in his face, but Mason stopped to consider my question. Without letting me go, he closed his eyes again. “I call on the magic to find that which has been lost. As I will it, so mote it be.” He paused a beat before smiling.

  “What? Did it work?” I pushed.

  With his eyes wide open, he tugged on me. “Come on. I think I feel something in this direction.”

  We weaved in and out of the crowd. I didn’t slow down to do more than call out a quick thanks to those who congratulated me on my race. A voice on a loud speaker boomed louder and louder as we reached the main stage of the event. Mason slowed down until he stood at the edge.

  “Do you feel a connection?” I looked from him into the cheering crowd.

  His telltale wrinkle of frustration appeared between his eyebrows. “This is as far as the thread tells me to go. There’s so many of them.”

  My hope for success evaporated. “So it could be anybody here.”

  “We’re back to square one,” Mason admitted.

  I did my best to come up with a solution. Surely something that had worked for me in the past might help in our present. “Sometimes I can sense a direct connection if I’m touching the person. If we can find whoever it is that possesses Lucky’s fortune, I’m betting you can figure it out.”

  “By touching every single person here? Not only is that weird, I don’t think it’s feasible.” The detective let go of my hand. “But I won’t be satisfied unless I’ve tried everything.”

  He pushed his way through the crowd, his hand lighting on as many people’s shoulders as possible. To the average person, it looked like he wanted to get by each one. Mason paused as long as he could without things getting too awkward. We found ourselves at the front of the stage, no closer to finding a connection to the leprechaun’s luck.

  “Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” announced Tucker, “let’s get on with the first barbecue competition category. Please welcome to the stage your judges, Roddy ‘Big Mouth’ Bass, ‘The Mud Dobber’ himself, Billy Ray, and the First Lady of racing, Rita Ryder.”

  The three retired racers waved to the roaring crowd and took their seats at a table in the center of the stage.

  Tucker waved the paper from which he read at the table of judges. “While some of these racers have joined their own barbecue teams, we’ve insured that none of them have a conflict of interest. The entries have been bottled and numbered so the judges won’t be able to tell whose entry belongs to who. Appearance, taste, and texture are just three of the criteria they’ll be using to judge. They’ll try each sauce on its own and then try a bit of the gr
illed meat each team included.”

  “We should go,” suggested Mason. “We’re wasting time.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Henry gesticulating wildly with his arms, trying to get my attention. He waved me and Mason over to the right side of the stage, pulling us behind it.

  When we joined him, my assistant gathered us closer with his arms. “Davis, Clint, and I are this close to finding who’s running the betting.” He held two fingers touching each other. “Dash’s brother suggested we throw out some bait to try and catch someone’s attention and maybe affect the betting itself. Nice win, by the way. Didn’t know you had it in ya.” He slapped my back hard enough to make me sputter.

  Clint nodded, his beard waggling with his enthusiasm. “I think it’s smart to watch the barbecue competition, too. Whoever may be counting on winning their bets may not be focusing solely on the racing.”

  “Did you guys enter a sauce? Or have you taken yourselves out of the competition all together considering…” I trailed off.

  “Considering our friend might be dying? Yeah, Lucky told all of us what’s going on,” confirmed Henry.

  It made sense that the leprechaun would inform his closest friends he was in trouble. But one person in the group hadn’t known him for that long.

  “Did he tell Billy Ray, too?” If the ex-racer had any involvement in Lucky’s attack, nothing would save him from my grandmother’s rage.

  My assistant shook his head. “He’s been too busy schmoozing the big wigs Vivi’s dealing with as well as signing autographs and judging competitions. At my suggestion, he hasn’t been told much. But that might all change tonight.”

  “What’s going on tonight?” snapped Mason.

  Clint excused himself to find Davis, and Henry stepped closer. “You hadn’t heard? Your grandmother has called a few of us over to her house. She’s gathering as many witches from Honeysuckle with psychic powers as possible to try and penetrate Lucky’s lost memories.”

  When she wanted to get something done, Nana didn’t do anything by halves. “And she’s asked Billy Ray to be there?”

  Henry shrugged. “I guess. Let’s go find out who won the sauce competition is. Maybe it’ll help narrow down things if anyone won money from betting on the winner.”

  “Or maybe the winner is the one with the luck,” suggested Mason. He held his arm out for me to slip my hand through. “After you, ma’am.”

  Despite our little tiff from earlier and my still confused feelings, it warmed me all the way down to my toes when the detective did something so chivalrous. Did it matter if our dabbling in tandem magic affected my emotions about him or did it matter how I felt right now in this moment?

  Walking around the corner, I reminded myself where my focus needed to be, watching Tucker hand the microphone to Rita.

  “If the level of competition rises to the peak where we are, then this weekend is gonna be one heckuva ride.” The retired racer waited for the crowd’s pleased reaction to die down.

  “You know, she’s pretty easy on the eyes,” remarked Henry, wiggling his eyebrows. “Once we square Lucky away, I might have to take my chances with her.”

  “But Lucky comes first.” I bumped my assistant with my hip, acknowledging my own romantic hypocrisy in silence.

  Rita continued. “All of the entries were more than delicious, but let’s celebrate the top three that got our attention. In third place, and we all loved the fruity peach flavor of the sauce, please put your hands together for the ‘Q and Brew team from Georgia.”

  I clapped, remembering their friendly check in. It still surprised me that beyond the racers’ teams, we had a lot of people here from all over. If we could save Lucky and keep things quiet and behind-the-scenes, Tucker would be the orchestrator of a very successful PR event.

  Someone from the Georgia team jumped up on stage and accepted a small trophy from Rita. She clapped for them and checked her card. “In second place, I think this team might get a lot of applause because it’s one of the hometown favorites, The Fiery Fangs.”

  I woohooed loud and long for Raif’s team. The vampire insisted Sam Ayden join him on stage to accept the award. They all paused to take a picture holding the bigger award.

  Henry sniffed. “I tasted their sauce. It’s okay.”

  I tried not to grin at my assistant’s displeasure. No doubt his team would have given the vampires a run for their money if they didn’t have the troubles they did.

  “And in first place—”

  “That’ll be my team for the win!” Fireball Irving jumped up onto the stage.

  A murmuring chuckle passed through the audience, but Rita shot the diminutive racer a stern look. “I haven’t even finished giving the introduction.”

  “But it’s my team, right?” Fireball swayed on his feet, lifting up his bottle of whiskey and taking a pre-celebratory swig from it.

  Rita glared at the drunk racer, narrowing her eyes at him. The awkward silence spreading throughout the crowd pulled her out of her frustration. She cleared her throat. “And finally, the team from Kansas City wins with their signature barbecue sauce. Let’s have a hand for Fireball’s team, the Oink and Moo’s.”

  The smaller racer spilled whiskey on the stage when he raised his hands in triumph. He snatched the trophy from Rita and poured the rest of the contents from the bottle into the shiny bowl, drinking straight from it. When he offered Rita a sip, she rushed past him, gathering her stuff from the table and leaving in a huff. Big Mouth got up from his seat and fetched Fireball, pulling him out of the spotlight and away from Tucker, who took the microphone back to give some closing remarks and go through some announcements.

  Leaning into Mason, I pointed at the stage. “I think we should go talk to those two again.”

  Henry waved goodbye to us. “I’m gonna go check my sources and see how the betting has been affected. Hopefully, I’ll be able to find who’s running things soon enough. See you later tonight.”

  Mason and I rushed around to the back of the stage but slowed down when we heard the two men arguing with each other.

  “Stop manhandling me. I’m fine,” insisted Fireball.

  “You almost gave everything away, you fool,” answered the expected voice of Big Mouth Bass. “Here. This belongs to you.”

  If we leaned our heads far enough out to see, the two might catch sight of us. I held my breath, hoping one of them would say something less cryptic and more incriminating.

  “What are you two doing back here?” a woman’s voice interrupted.

  I jumped and clutched my chest, turning to find Rita Ryder’s unhappy glare aimed at us. “Looking for my grandmother,” I lied.

  Her face relaxed. “Oh, right. You’re related to Billy Ray’s Vivian.”

  My whole body stiffened. “His Vivian?”

  Mason put a steadying arm around me. “Not the point,” he muttered to me.

  Rita caught sight of the broom I still held, and her face lit up. “Are you the girl who won second place in the race?”

  Not too happy she didn’t clarify what she meant by her words, I offered her a weak smile. “I did.”

  “Congratulations. I’m glad they don’t try to hold us girls back anymore. Good luck in the next round,” she said with genuine fervor. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more autographs to sign.”

  Without waiting for a reply from either me or Mason, the retired racer walked past us in the direction of Big Mouth and Fireball. When I tried to follow her, I found the two men were already gone. We’d missed our chance.

  With nobody else around, Mason pulled the sapphire out of his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand. “Whatever I felt before is gone. We know someone involved was here, but I wish I could figure out how to make the magic be more specific.”

  “Let’s hope Henry, with whatever he and the others have planned, has more luck than we just did,” I cringed when I heard what I’d said. “Bad choice of words.”

  “I get it. And maybe toni
ght, your grandmother’s efforts will help us figure out what happened to him. If we know how the luck was taken, maybe it will help.”

  I took Mason’s hand in mine. “If you ever figure out how to make the powers be more specific, let me know.” The detective was tasting only a fraction of the exasperating limits of being a tracker. “How about we get you some food and top off your fuel so you can try some more.”

  The detective pocketed the jewel again and took the broom away from me. “Let me carry this for now. It might be the last time I can call it mine if you keep winning.”

  We walked together in the direction of the food vendors, but my mind kept going over what we’d overheard. The two retired racers who’d seemed like jolly jokesters when we met, hid a much darker side. At some point, we needed to figure out what roll they played in the race to find the leprechaun’s luck.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mason spent most of the afternoon trying not to lose hope while milling around as many people as possible, touching their shoulders and hoping he could find a connection again. I did my best to cheer him up, holding onto enough hope for the both of us. Once in a while, he sensed a special presence in certain areas, but once we arrived, he couldn’t hone in on anything.

  About the time the sun set and the sound of Jordy and the Jack-O’-Lanterns playing music on the stage echoed into the evening sky, we left the event field to go to Nana’s house.

  When we arrived, the sight of smoke billowing from the backyard plus the sound of voices beckoned us to join the small group out back. My grandmother’s modest charcoal grill sizzled with cooking meat. The large smokers in high use for the competition might produce some good barbecue, but Nana could grill up some mighty fine chicken and steaks.

  She greeted both of us with a glass of sweet tea. Kissing my cheek, she turned and gestured for someone to join us. Billy Ray stopped gabbing with Lee and Ben in the corner and sauntered over. When he stood next to my grandmother, he pecked her on the cheek.