A Southern Charms Cozy Potluck Box Set Page 15

  “That’s from Shakespeare, you dope,” I teased. “And besides, it’s not about what happens to the person who steals the treasure that’s important. It’s what will happen to Honeysuckle. Remember Mrs. Kettlefields and her dramatic warnings?”

  Matt stood up, hunched over like old Mrs. K, and shook his finger at us. “The skies will darken. The waters will rise. And the tree of life will perish,” he croaked in imitation of her shaky voice.

  Nana joined us. “That old witch had no business teaching history to you children.”

  “Come on, Nana, tell us,” I cajoled. “What would happen if one of the founding member representatives didn’t bury a treasure?”

  My grandmother touched the box in front of her. “We haven’t had to test that theory yet, and I have no intention of trying. So, let’s leave it.”

  “What are you using this year?” asked Matt.

  “That’s something I was gonna talk to the two of you about,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Do you want me to leave?” offered Ben.

  She touched his arm. “Of course not. I know I can trust you as a close friend of the family and as a professional advocate.”

  Our friend blushed under the immense trust Nana placed in him. “Honored,” he muttered, tipping his head at her.

  “I was thinking of sacrificing your dad and mom’s rings. If that’s okay with the two of you.” Nana’s eyes searched ours.

  “Their wedding rings?” clarified Matt.

  She nodded. “I know that means neither of you will get to wear them. I’ve been selfish and keeping them in my jewelry box, although I guess I should have offered your dad’s band to you, Matthew.”

  My brother fingered the band already on his finger. “I’m good with the one I have. TJ special ordered our bands so that they match.”

  “And what about you?” Nana looked at me for permission.

  I’d always thought it would be nice to wear Mom’s ring if I ever settled down. She’d never wanted a separate engagement ring, so Dad had gotten her a band with small diamonds encrusted in it. When I was engaged to Tucker, I was supposed to wear a gaudy family heirloom of the Hawthorne’s, which broke my heart. Clementine could wear it for the rest of her life, for all I cared.

  “I think it would mean more if I had someone who wanted to marry me first.” I tried to joke to ignore the weight of sadness when remembering my parents. “But Nana, I thought the family tradition was to sacrifice something that represented knowledge?”

  My grandmother looked at me in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Blame old Mrs. Kettlefields again. She said that the first treasure that sealed the pact and created the town was a valuable piece of jewelry from the Hawthorne descendant. That represented wealth or good fortune. The Walker descendant sacrificed a pink ribbon from her deceased daughter that she carried with her always to represent the heart of things. And the Goodwin descendant buried a valuable book of some sort to represent knowledge.”

  “Y-e-s,” dragged out Nana. “That’s true. To an extent. And then all of the gifts from each year are known within the families or are passed down to the next family member who takes the place on the council. But it’s absolute hogwash that the chosen items have to represent specifically wealth, heart, or knowledge. That old witch had a few too many bats loose in her noggin’.”

  “Who’s going to take Tipper’s role in this year’s ceremony?” Matt asked the crucial question I’m sure most of Honeysuckle gossiped about.

  “Probably Aunt Nora.” I couldn’t hold back an eye roll of disgust.

  Ben cleared his throat. “That actually brings us back to why I came here this morning. Leonora Walker has started some procedures that will affect the ceremony. She’s demanding to be instated in the Walker council seat as soon as possible.”

  “Over my dead body,” I declared, then winced when I saw the looks of fear in my family’s eyes. “I mean, nothing could be worse than her on the council.”

  “But it’s a smart play on her part,” mused Nana. “If she takes Tipper’s role in the ceremony, then it will solidify her as the heir apparent. And I am not ready to make that an official decision yet, no matter how much pressure I’m getting.”

  “That’s not all. Your aunt’s also on the verge of invoking the heredis intestatus clause.” Ben looked to my grandmother apologetically.

  Nana leaned back in her chair. “That’s clever. A little too clever. No way that empty-headed fool thought of that on her own.”

  Matt crossed his arms. “Any chance you two wanna share what that means?”

  Ben sat up straighter in his chair. “In advocate terms, she is challenging magical and human laws to proclaim that all of Tipper’s possessions will be passed on to her with immediacy. The procedure was created in medieval Europe by the last descendant of Cornelius the Mage upon his untimely passing. Without a will in place, all of his possessions, including very valuable magical objects and grimoires, could have been claimed by those unworthy or even those who would seek to destroy them.”

  “So it’s a legal form of stealing?” I asked.

  Ben shook his head. “Not necessarily. The person who invokes it must be a proven relative that has a clear and proven path to being the next descendant.”

  “Which could have been Mom,” Matt uttered.

  “But now it’s just Aunt Nora.” The chair underneath me squeaked and groaned as I slunk back into it. “You’re right, Nana. She didn’t come up with this herself. I’ll bet Hollis Hawthorne is involved since I’d guess that he’s one of the ones that’s pressuring you to make a quick decision about the council. Or maybe not.” The memory of Aunt Nora with Ashton Sharpe in the park replayed in my mind, and I wondered if he were the type of person to come up with a strategy like this.

  Matt waved his hands in front of him. “Hang on. I may be a bit slow here, but all of this doesn’t matter. Nora can only invoke the hereditary clause thing if there’s no will. You’ve got Tipper’s will, right Ben?”

  My friend’s silence spoke a little too loud.

  “Holy unicorn horns. Have you searched all the files in the office?” I asked.

  “I have, but I found nothing but older versions. In Tipper’s note with the box, he specified details about a new will that he and Jed had created very recently,” Ben stated. “And Jed’s out right now.”

  Nana slammed her hands on the table. “Where is that old fool?”

  “He’s off on a fishing trip with Wayne and a few others. They’re supposed to be back the night of the pig pickin’ and tree ceremony. And I can’t hold off Nora. If she wants to invoke, I can’t prevent her.”

  My mind raced to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. “So if we want to stop her for the time being, we need to find this new will Tipper wrote about.”

  “If it exists,” Matt added.

  “How much time do we have, Ben?” I asked. “It can’t go through the advocate system in an instant. We should have the opportunity to challenge her, right?”

  “This is old law, meant to ultimately pass on familial power in whatever form. Any delay was seen as a threat to that power, so that means when she does invoke it officially—”

  “Everything goes to her,” I finished. “The house, the land, who knows what else. But if that’s the case, why is she waiting?”

  Matt snapped his fingers. “Because she’s worried that there is a will out there that would negate it all.” He looked at me with enthusiasm. “You know what this means.”

  I fist bumped him. “Time to go bird doggin’.” The chair scraped on the floor as I stood up from the table.

  “Hold on,” interrupted Nana. “Exactly what is the plan?”

  Matt tipped his head at me with confidence. “To let her do her thing. If anyone can find something, it’s our Charli Bird.” He got up from the table as well.

  “We should start at Tipper’s house,” I suggested.

  “But it’s under warden protection,” countered
Matt.

  I knocked him upside the head. “And what are you? Duh.”

  “But it won’t be an official investigation. I could get into a lot of trouble.”

  “Since when did you become such a scaredy witch? Come on, what’s more important? Following the rules or bending them a teeny tiny little bit for us to try and save the day?”

  Nana spoke in a low voice. “What if you using your magic affects the curse?”

  Her words cut into my excitement. She didn’t have to elaborate because the same worry kept me up at night, too. But I couldn’t stay at home and risk losing.

  “Don’t worry about Doozy. This won’t be a hard task. And who’s the best at finding things?” I batted my eyes, trying to cheer her up. Taking a dutiful sip of the mixture in my cup, I did my best to keep the foul-tasting sludge down.

  “You are,” she admitted. “Although right now, I’d give anything that you weren’t so I could keep you right here with me.” She pushed away from the table and approached, wrapping me in a close embrace. She felt like warmth, love, and home all at once.

  “Use the rings for the ceremony, Nana. Mom and Dad would love that.” I sniffed to keep from snotting on her. “I think we’ve all learned a lot from missing them.”

  She patted my back. “Thank you, sweet girl. You be safe. And you.” She pulled my brother into the massive hug. “You watch out for your sister.”

  “I always do,” Matt mumbled against her head. He ruffled my hair in confirmation, and I batted his hand away.

  On the porch, we told Ben that if we found anything, we’d bring it to him immediately. If we didn’t, we’d stop by his office to let me search there as a backup. Taking Alison Kate’s car, he drove off.

  Nana stood in the doorway waving at us, her smile unable to hide her worry. “Do me a favor. Try not to use your gifts, Charli.”

  “But Nana,” I whined.

  She held up her hand to stop me. “Think about how many glasses of my cure you won’t have to drink.”

  “She has a good point,” Matt said.

  “She plays dirty,” I grumbled as we walked down the porch stairs. Waving at her, I got in the car beside my brother. “So, we have a missing will to find.”

  “On top of a murder to solve,” he added.

  “And a curse to stop.”

  Matt blew out a breath and gripped the steering wheel. “You sure you’re up to this?”

  I shrugged. “What’s the alternative? I told Mason last night I couldn’t just stay locked away safe somewhere and not try to help.”

  “I understand.” Matt avoided my gaze. “I don’t like it, but I get it. When Mom got sick, she used to tell us to live each day to the fullest because—”

  “You never know what day might be the last,” I finished.

  He took my hand in his and squeezed it three times. Dad’s silent signature way to say I love you.

  I squeezed him right back. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “If Big Willie found out I was here right now, I might lose my job,” Matt said, releasing the warden’s protection with a flourish of his hand and unlocking the door to Tipper’s house.

  The thick wood creaked open, flooding the darkened house with sunlight. The breeze from outside stirred the dust particles floating in the stagnant air.

  The size of the house used to delight me as a child. So many places to explore. Antiques and dark wood furniture lined walls and decorated rooms covered with a fine layer of grime. The sheer number of hiding places that a man like my great-uncle might use could be endless.

  Matt shut the door behind us. “We need to stay as stealthy as possible.” He spellcast a simple ball of light. The eerie glow cast strange shadows.

  “Where exactly are we supposed to start?” I sneezed and wiped my nose.

  “I don't know,” said Matt. “Maybe an old desk somewhere or a drawer?”

  The downstairs foyer we stood in had at least five potential starting points packed in the small space. One look to either side of me into other rooms unveiled the vast undertaking we had before us.

  Hope drained out of me. “It could take us an entire year if we search every nook and cranny.”

  “What choice do we have?” Matt directed the light ball around him.

  I lifted my eyebrows, pointed at my chest, and rubbed my hands together in anticipation.

  “No. No way,” he whispered. “Nana was very clear about the potential consequences.”

  “Why are you whispering? She can’t hear you.” My louder tone echoed in the empty house. “If I can tap into my magic just a little, it might save us a lot of time.”

  “Or it might affect the curse.”

  “We don't know that,” I countered.

  “I’m not willing to risk it. Not your life, and definitely not Nana's anger. Stick to the plan and let's search on our own. I'll take the downstairs, you take the upstairs.” My brother shook his head when I attempted another protest.

  I gazed up into the darkened hallway of the second floor. “Oh great. There's no telling what he has in all those bedrooms up there.”

  Matt nudged my shoulder. “When I’m finished down here, I'll help you upstairs,” he promised.

  “And how am I supposed to see?” I pointed at his light ball.

  His eyebrows furrowed as he debated with himself. With a click of his tongue and a sigh, he gave in. “Fine. But just a small one. Don’t burn up any more of your magic than you have to.”

  “Yes, Mom,” I mouthed at him.

  Finding the creak of each wooden step, I climbed the stairway. The afternoon sun filtered through the drawn curtains of the house, but not enough to help me see clearly. However, why waste my magic on a ball of light when I could find the will myself?

  Drawing a tiny bit of energy from inside and palming a button I’d snatched from a bowl on a table near the front door, I prepared myself and concentrated.

  After a few seconds, I concocted my rhymes. “Help me lock away this curse before it manages to get worse. Let me access all my skill and find the path to Tipper’s will.”

  The tiny effort drained me faster than I'd anticipated, and I doubled over in pain. I sunk to the floor of the hallway. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bit my forefinger to keep myself from moaning. We had enough to deal with without my brother dragging me back home and putting me under house arrest. And I would endure anything to find that will and stop Aunt Nora from her little power-hungry trip.

  Afraid Matt could finish patrolling downstairs any second now, I pushed up off the floor and made it to my feet, the world tilting a tiny bit. I braced myself against the wall, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim level of light and taking a few seconds to recover.

  A rustling sound followed by a crash startled me, and I stood stock still. Crawling against the wall, I slunk toward the noise. My heart jumped at another dull thump and groan.

  “Frosted fairy wings,” uttered a wheezy male voice. One that I'd heard before.

  Rounding the corner and staring into the room, I spotted the culprit. “Beauregard Pepperpot,” I exclaimed.

  The elderly vampire I recognized from the re-enactment play gasped in surprise and transformed into a tiny but plump bat fluttering in the air in wobbly circles. With another poof, the bat turned back into a petrified Beauregard.

  “You startled me, Miss Charli.” He clutched his chest over his non-beating heart.

  “I startled you? What are you doing here?” I hissed at him.

  My brother bounded up the stairs and crashed into the room, pushing me aside. “Stop, under command of the wardens.” Power pulsed at the end of his hand.

  Beauregard’s wrinkled face drooped, and he lifted his hands. “I wasn't doing anything bad, I promise,” he said in a voice dripping with pity.

  “What are you doing here?” my brother demanded.

  “I already asked him that,” I said.

  “Has he answered?”

  “No.”

 
; “Then he needs to answer the question.”

  “He would if you would just shut up,” I insisted.

  The vampire’s eyes bounced between the two of us squabbling, and he kept his hands in the air. He waited until Matt and I stopped bickering. Clearing his throat, he proclaimed, “I live here.”

  “But this house has been warded off from anybody else entering. How are you here?” Matt asked.

  “Because I live here,” Beauregard insisted.

  My brother lowered his hand and placed it on his hip. “You mean you broke in? You’re squatting? What?”

  The vampire continued to stand with his hands in the air, confused.

  “Put your hands down,” I demanded.

  “Hey, that's my job to say,” complained Matt.

  I waved my brother off. “What do you mean you live here, Mr. Pepperpot?

  “Call me Beau, please.” He shrugged. “I’ve been living in one of the extra rooms for ages now. I don't know. I guess that Tipper took pity on me or something. At least that's what he always told me.”

  “So this is his current residence. Is that why the protective ward doesn’t work on him?” I asked my brother.

  The puzzled expression on Matt’s face didn’t reassure me. “I guess. Maybe. I’m still stuck on why you were living with Uncle Tipper.”

  A slight smile revealed Beau’s fangs. “Because he was my best friend. But…I think it was more than that.”

  “Like what?” interrogated Matt in a calmer tone.

  Beau glanced down at the floor. “I think he was lonely.”

  Guilt rose in my chest and squeezed my heart. My great-uncle and I had a relationship different from anyone else in the family or even in Honeysuckle. He had doted on my mother with all his heart, and perhaps he thought of me in much the same way. Like Matt and Nana, I had abandoned him, too.

  A quick glance around the room revealed no bed or anything that made it look lived in. Stacks of old newspapers, old broken furniture, and things one might find that yard sales cluttered the space.