Fried Chicken & Fangs Read online

  I’d get on him later about his help in getting me to bed and to leave me in my clothes next time. The kitchen quieted down, and I got back to eating, deep in thought.

  My brother quietly drank his coffee, his breath the only thing I could hear besides the birds twittering in the magnolia tree outside. He didn’t utter a word when I snagged the last cinnamon roll off a plate in the middle of the table or dumped the rest of the bacon onto my plate. Annoyed, I chucked a strip at him, and it bounced off his forehead.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I cried.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?”

  He picked up the bacon and shoved it in his mouth. “For you to tell me what’s been up your behind these past few days.”

  My defenses snapped to attention and my anxiety from everything that had happened—or not happened—in the past few days kicked in. Picking up my plate, I placed it in the sink with a clatter. “Tell TJ thanks for breakfast.” I hustled out of the kitchen, afraid of what might come next.

  “Birdy,” he yelled after me. “Frosted fairy wings, Charli, stop!”

  My foot hovered over the first step, my body coiled to spurt back upstairs. As much as I wanted to run and hide, I couldn’t. Not from Matt. We’d been through too much together for me not to recognize the hurt in his voice.

  He took my hand from the banister and held it in his. “Remember how Mom used to always know right when we needed a hug? Or how Dad produced ice cream out of nowhere to cheer us up? Now that I’m older, I know that it wasn’t because they had some sort of special magic or a crystal ball. It’s not hard to see when the ones you love are hurting. Talk to me, Birdy.”

  An empty sob burst out of me, but no tears came. Matt squeezed my hand three times, our family’s silent way of saying I love you, and pulled me into a quick hug. “Come on.”

  Leading me out onto the porch, he directed me to sit down in a rocking chair and took the one beside me. The rhythmic creak of the chairs swaying calmed me down. My brother’s presence reminded me of the strength our family possessed.

  “When you came home the other night,” Matt started, “you looked like you wanted to tell me something. And then I went and ruined it by complaining about my own issues.”

  “You have a right to tell me you’re anxious. You’re going to be called Dad soon by your own little girl. Better start stocking up on the ice cream now.” I smiled for the first time this morning. Lifting my legs and hugging my knees into me, I folded in on myself in the chair. “Ah, Matty D. I think I’m broken.”

  My brother didn’t try to change my mind or tell me I was wrong. He waited for me to continue on my own, staring out onto the land in front of us, still rocking.

  All my worries about my magic and my fears of not having them anymore spilled out of me. I told him every detail, leaving out what had happened with Dash last night. One, I didn’t want my brother to have to act in a warden capacity with the shifter. And two, I couldn’t guarantee that Matt wouldn’t find him to hex his behind. Or kick it. Or both.

  “You know, Ms. Alma isn’t the only person to file a stolen item report with us at the station. There are at least six more complaints, and they aren’t all jewelry either. Come to think of it, Mimsy Blackwood pulled me aside after the debates and told me that she was worried because she couldn’t find her antique set of teaspoons in her buffet,” he observed.

  “That can’t be a coincidence, can it? I mean, six reports or maybe more, all filed at the same time.” I let go of my legs and gripped the arms of the chair. “Matt, could someone be breaking into people’s houses and stealing from them?”

  “As a warden, I’m trained not to rule out any possibility. But for each of these cases, there’s absolutely no sign of a break in.”

  “If my talents weren’t broken, then maybe I could have helped instead of failing,” I lamented.

  “Stop saying you failed. And you’re not broken. Maybe your ego is a little bruised, but I know you better than anybody. I’ve never known you to lie down and give up or hide under your quilt for long. And you know what Dad always said,” my brother needled me.

  “You only fail if you stop tryin’.” The old mantra rung in my ears. “You gonna tell your daughter that?”

  “If I can be half the father to her that Dad was for us, then I will be lucky.” Matt knocked on the wood of his rocker for good measure.

  “I’ve been meanin’ to ask, have you been by Nana’s recently?” I checked.

  “Yesterday. But she was running out the door, so I didn’t really get to talk to her. The election and everything that’s happened since it started is starting to take its toll on her.”

  Matt didn’t have to tell me he was worried about our grandmother. I was, too, but saying that out loud to each other might mean that something was really wrong with her, and we couldn’t handle that.

  “The election,” I mused. “First Mrs. K’s outburst. Then her death. Finding her body in the library, which made Horatio look guilty as implied by Linsey in the Honeysuckle Holler. Add to that, people seem to be missing stuff that’s valuable to them.”

  “And to others. Some of the items could fetch a high price outside of our town,” my brother added.

  “Oh,” I exclaimed. “Mrs. K’s brooch. It’s missing, too. Mason wanted me to try finding it, but…you know.”

  Matt regarded me. “You were scared you might fail again.”

  In front of Mason, I added internally. I nodded at my brother. “I think it’s important that the piece of jewelry is found.”

  “You think the missing goods and Mrs. K’s death might be connected?” Matt looked off into the distance deep in thought. “It’s not a bad theory, but none of the people who have filed a report have anything to do with the election. And our former teacher’s death seems all about it. I don’t know if there’s enough evidence to support that speculation.”

  I held up my finger. “Yet. Give me a sec.” Jumping off the chair, I bounded upstairs and searched the pocket of the pants I was wearing the night before. Grabbing my desired item, I ran back to join my brother.

  “What’s that?” he stared at the device in my hand.

  “It’s a spell phone. Lee came up with the idea.”

  “I want one.” He reached out to take mine, and I slapped his hand away. Flipping the phone open, I selected the relevant name and pressed the green icon button.

  “Charli,” Mason said on the end of the line. “What can I do for you?”

  “Do you still have Mrs. Kettlefields stuff in your office?” I asked.

  “No.” He sounded interested. “But I can put my hands on it in mere minutes. Why?”

  I glanced at Matt, who flashed me a smile that definitely reminded me of Dad. “Because I’m going to find out where the brooch is.”

  “When can you get here?” The detective’s voice snapped into business mode.

  “I’ll hop on my bike as soon as we hang up.”

  “Good,” Mason replied, ending the call.

  Matt high-fived me and snatched the device from my other hand. “You want me to take you to the station instead?” he offered, already messing with the spell phone.

  “No. I’ve got this.” My churning gut didn’t agree with me one hundred percent, but I had to try.

  “If you need me, I’ll be there for you. But I’m pretty sure you won’t. You can do this, Birdy.” He tossed the phone back to me. “Tell Lee I’m next in line to get one of those.”

  Mason crossed the room, dragging the box of Mrs. K’s items across his desk in my direction. “No time like the present. Choose something and test things out. If your magic works, then you'll know it was a temporary glitch. Something you can examine later.”

  “If it doesn’t?” I put my fear right out in front of both of us.

  He squeezed my hand, holding it for a second longer than normal. “If it doesn't, then I’ll help you figure it out. Either way, I’m right here with you.”

  Doubt crept ba
ck in through the cracks in my emotional armor. What if I failed, and the man with the warm hand wrapped around mine stopped believing in me?

  Mason let me go. “Let’s not give you a chance to back out.” He popped the top off the box and took out items, placing them one by one in front of me. Her cloying scent still clung to each one.

  “Not the perfume.” I squeezed my nose shut with my fingers. “It took way too long to wash it off last time it got on my skin. No, I need to find something that’s personal to her. Something she valued.”

  The detective opened up a drawer in his desk. “What about her diary?” He took out the History of Magic textbook and handed it to me.

  It felt a little like a violation of my former teacher’s emotions, using her words to anchor my efforts. But it couldn't get more personal than her own written-down thoughts other than holding her hand, and we were not going there.

  I picked up the book, my fingers rubbing the worn cover. At least the food from breakfast provided me with lots of fuel. Breathing in deep, I centered myself, composing a careful rhyme in my head, needing as much help as I could possibly get.

  “Heed my words and listen well, as I weave my magic spell. Against myself, I will not rail. For this one task, I cannot fail. To find the brooch, I need to see. Oh, magic gift, please work for me.”

  Gathering my energy inside, I willed my powers to life. Gripping the diary in my hands until the pressure hurt, I shut my eyes closed and gave my magic a chance to work.

  With a gasp, I dropped the book. It fell to the floor with a thunderous thud.

  “What happened? It didn't work?” Mason asked, reaching out to me.

  “The exact opposite,” I said. “I know exactly where to go.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mason decided against alerting the other wardens. He alone accompanied me, sensing the importance of the task. I didn’t have to follow the path of a glowing thread to find the missing piece. Images had revealed themselves to me with strong clarity, connecting me to the location without having moved a muscle. We arrived at the house together, and I sat in the car, staring at the white picket fence with pink flowers gushing over it, wishing my magic hadn’t worked at all. The detective knocked on the door.

  Flint answered, his face brightening. “Charli. Detective Clairmont. What are you doing here?” When he caught sight at our faces, he stopped smiling. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Mr. Hollyspring, I need to enter your premises with Ms. Goodwin.” Mason’s cold professionalism kicked in.

  “You’re always welcome. Please.” He opened his door wider and ushered us inside. “Goss, honey, we have visitors,” he called out.

  I protested her presence. With her pregnancy, she didn’t need the worry. At the same time, if I found the brooch where I thought—no, knew—it was, she’d have enough to upset her.

  “Please stand back and allow Ms. Goodwin to work,” Mason insisted.

  “What’s going on?” Goss joined us in their living room. Before she could utter another word, Flint reached out to hold her hand, enduring a nervous sprinkling of pink dust.

  “Charli, please.” Mason held out his hand, insisting that I do what I came here to do.

  Drawing on a sliver of my magic, I captured the clear, glowing thread that formed. It tugged on me without much effort, and I followed its beckoning into the kitchen and straight to the counter. A ceramic unicorn head sat on the surface, and I pulled it to me, grasping it by its horn and opening the vessel. The scent of cinnamon filled my nose as I emptied the container of every last Snickerdoodle. At the very bottom of the cookie jar lay the brooch.

  “Don’t touch it,” warned Mason, joining me at my elbow.

  He spellcast a protective shield around the piece of jewelry and dumped it out. It clattered on the counter, its metal and simple jewels sparkling.

  “What is that?” asked Goss.

  Ignoring the slight shake of the detective’s head, I answered, “It’s Mrs. K’s brooch she received when she retired.”

  Flint stroked his beard, his brow furrowed. “What’s it doing there?”

  Mason pursed his lips. “Mr. and Mrs. Hollyspring, I need to take you to the warden station with me. If you voluntarily come now, then there doesn’t need to be any drama. But I have to take you in.”

  The gnome stepped in front of his wife. “Take me. She has nothing to do with it.”

  “And you do?” Mason asked.

  Flint opened his mouth to answer but closed it without a ready explanation. He hung his head. “She’s having terrible morning sickness. Can’t you just take me?”

  “Or how about you hold on a second while we think things through,” I suggested, raising an eyebrow at the detective. “None of this makes any sense.”

  “I can’t ignore my responsibilities. Neither is under arrest yet, but they have to be brought in. I thought you understood this, Charli.” He regarded the distraught couple for a beat, his frosty distance thawing a bit. “Listen, I’m willing to take in Flint and leave Mrs. Hollyspring here in your home if you are under duress from your current condition. Please do not go anywhere for the time being. Mr. Hollyspring, come with me.”

  Flint consoled his wife and promised that everything would be okay. In that touching moment, they broke my heart, and I hated that my magic had done this to them.

  In desperation, I pulled Mason into the living room. “You can’t do this.”

  “I thought you wanted Mrs. K’s death solved. Well, you helped find a crucial piece to the puzzle. Congratulations. But this is my job, Charli.” He frowned in disappointment.

  “I know. But it’s too convenient. First, Horatio looks guilty. Now, Flint will if word gets out. Both are involved in the election. The puzzle pieces fit too well.” My words flew out of my mouth to try and keep up with my brain.

  “What about Occam’s razor?” he asked.

  I remembered Horatio’s explanation. “The simplest answer is usually the right one, I know. But what if it’s too simple? This is more like someone has just handed you not only the answers to the test but also all of the questions, too. And what about my part in all this?”

  “I know the results aren’t completely what you wanted, but aren’t you relieved that your magic worked?”

  “But that’s the thing. It didn’t before. And now all of a sudden, bam, it worked better than ever. Right when it needed to.” A sudden thought caught me off guard, and I tugged on Mason’s shirt. “What if I had tried to use my magic that time before in your office?”

  “Then you would have found the brooch just the same.”

  I turned my finger in the air, trying to get him to follow the logic to the next step. “And then Flint’s participation in the election would be—”

  “In jeopardy,” he completed. “Taking him out of the running.”

  “Like Horatio,” I added. “This has all been about the election. It has to be. And there are only two more candidates left, one being a very likely guilty party.”

  “Now you’re moving from theory to biased accusation. I know you don’t hold any affection for Raif, but your dislike of him isn’t foolproof evidence.”

  I kept the fact that I wasn’t thinking of the vampire to myself. My theories and efforts had already gotten my friends in trouble. I needed to investigate on my own before I threw another one under the bus.

  Mason continued. “I do see where you’re going with this, and I will consider the possibilities. But for now, I have to follow the evidence I have in hand.” He held up the brooch. “Mr. Hollyspring, if you please.”

  Goss exploded into hot tears and pink fairy dust in protest. I went to her side, holding onto her hand to watch her husband leave. When we all got to the door, an unexpected visitor waited for us.

  “Detective Clairmont, is it true that you’ve nabbed the murderer of Mrs. Kettlefields? And Flint, why did you feel the need to get rid of her?” Linsey hounded them, following close on their heels as Mason escorted Flint to his ve
hicle.

  I slammed the door shut and pulled the fairy deeper into the interior of her house. “Goss, whatever you do, do not answer the door until whoever it is identifies themselves. Even then, you may want to wait until Flint is home.”

  “You’re gonna stay with me, right?” Her little wings quivered.

  “I’m going to go find Ben and get him down to the station.” Guilt gnawed on me. If I had to pay out of my own pocket, I would make sure that Flint had an advocate on his side. “Pixie poop,” I exclaimed. “Mason was my ride.”

  Goss sniffed and pulled herself together. “If it’s to help my Flinty, then here.” With a flourish of her hand, her wand appeared. She waved it a couple of times and opened a door onto the fairy path.

  I stepped through to a spot on Main Street, looking back to see her floating on the other side. “Thank you,” she managed before bursting into tears. The sparkling pink magical portal dwindled and closed.

  With little time to lose, I rushed past everyone and made it to Jed and Ben’s office, panting. After enlisting my friend’s help, I left, unsure of what to do next. The clock on the front of the town hall chimed. Lunchtime, although my appetite no longer existed.

  I spotted Dash’s motorcycle parked in front of The Rainbow’s End. The other two that I’d seen before were gone. Fixing things with the shifter needed to be the next thing on my list. Maybe I could bribe him to talk to me with some food at the cafe.

  I entered Lucky’s bar and found the leprechaun out of sorts. He snorted. “Good, yer here. Take your furry friend and get him outta my place.”

  Scanning the bar, I couldn’t spot anyone I knew. A door banged open, and Dash stumbled out of one of the bathrooms in the back. “You know, it’s hard to hit a bulls-eye when the target’s movin’,” he slurred.

  “How long has he been here?” I asked Lucky.

  “Since last night. He never left, even after his shady comrades did. Drank until he passed out cold in his seat, so I let him sleep it off in me office.” The leprechaun’s Irish accent got thicker in his irritation. “But when I tried to shoo him out this mornin’, he threatened to go behind the bar to drink the libations. Broke a bottle or two already. I’ve been servin’ him beer to keep him from drinkin’ me outta my business.”