Sweet Tea & Spells (A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 18

  “Want to share where we’re going?” asked Mason, holding the car door open for me.

  I paused before getting in. “If I'm right, the book is waiting for us at The Harvest Moon.”

  We pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the cafe, ignoring the spectacle we created. Without holding Tara’s hand again, I only had the leftover image to go on. However, I'd rather take more time to find the location than to have to touch the witch with a capital B again.

  “If you’re a very good girl, maybe I'll bring you out an iced tea,” I taunted her.

  She tried to say something nasty to me, but Zeke cast a quick silent spell on her.

  Mason allowed me to take the lead, and I felt the burn of stares from everyone in the place. All conversation stopped as they watched us with curiosity.

  Sassy floated over to us, her wings fluttering in nervous quivers. “Can I help you?” her high-pitched voice shook.

  “I need to search the place, Sass.” Checking with Mr. Steve through the pass-through window, I proceeded after he nodded once. With careful steps, I went behind the counter, inspecting every shelf, drawer, and cabinet. Not seeing what I pictured in my mind, I let Mason know with a shake of my head.

  Braving the heat from the kitchen, I pushed through the swinging door and walked in. Steve continued to tend to the food already cooking on the griddle but gave me room to walk around him. I opened up the walk-in refrigerator, still not spotting anything matching the image in my head.

  “What are you lookin’ for?” the cook asked.

  “I’ll know it when I see it,” I uttered, getting more frustrated. “Is there a place where you guys get ready before service?”

  Steve pointed his spatula in the direction of the restroom. “There’s a door to the left there. It's where we can keep our stuff during the day or change clothes. The girls…well, just Sassy now…have lockers to keep their girl stuff in.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, choosing the correct one. “Here.”

  Taking Mason with me, I made my way to the door and unlocked it. The small space was sparse except for the lockers and a few things hanging from hooks on the wall. I opened the metal locker on the right and found it mostly empty except for a couple of aprons lying in a pile on the bottom.

  “This was most likely Blythe’s,” I stated to Mason, who stood in the doorway, letting me play the detective.

  Checking the second locker, I opened it and took a step back. An overturned cast iron skillet sat at the bottom of the storage space. Something like that in the cafe wouldn't seem unusual except a spot of dried blood marked the edge of it.

  “I think I found something important.” I pointed at the skillet, letting Mason take over.

  With professional precision, he cast a protective layer over the evidence and levitated it until he could grasp the handle.

  “That’s blood, isn’t it?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Looks like it. I'll have to get it tested to see if it matches Duke’s, but this is most likely what caused the injury on his head.” He showed a few strands of hair stuck in the blood to me.

  Focusing on the skillet distracted me, and it took an extra second for me to notice the object that had been hiding underneath the cast iron pot. “And there's the book.” My heart beat fast, and I resisted picking it up.

  Mason handed me the protected skillet and retrieved the book in the same manner. He opened the pages, sharing them with me. One glance at the writing on a couple of them, and we both understood how menacing the object really was. And just how valuable someone else might find it.

  “There are a lot of entries in there,” I commented. “Some of those last names are Old Charlestonian ones. I recognize their French origins.”

  Mason flipped through the pages faster, the tip of his finger scrolling down some of them.

  I read over his shoulder and whistled. “No wonder Tucker’s been a wreck. If there are any entries about him in there, he has cause to worry.” My decision not to marry Tucker seemed like an even better one now, and I worried about my cousin’s upcoming nuptials.

  Mason frowned. “There are pages torn out.” He pulled the book open wide until the spine cracked. “See the frayed edges?” He let me take a closer look.

  “Whoever took them is most likely to be associated with Duke’s murder.” I ran my finger down the middle, feeling the ragged paper. “Is there a spell that could restore them?”

  Mason blew out a slow breath. “It would take someone very powerful and very skilled to do it. Even up North, we had access to only a few who might be able to spellcast something that specific. It also depends on whether there are any lingering spells that Duke cast himself.”

  “In other words, we only have a part of the puzzle. The most important piece is still missing,” I said.

  The detective didn’t have a chance to answer. Big Willie filled the doorway with his massive body. “I thought I made myself clear,” he growled at me.

  “Charli was the one who used her talents and found both of these.” The detective showed his boss the book and skillet.

  The sheriff entered the small space, crowding us and scratching his beard. “We got a call at the station, tippin’ us off that they saw somethin’ related to the murder here.”

  I looked between the two wardens. “You know this is a set up, right? There’s no way Sassy committed the murder. First of all, there’s this.” I waved around the heavy cast iron. “Fairies are stronger than they look, but I don’t think she could fling this hard enough to hurt a flea.”

  “She could if she used her magic,” countered the sheriff.

  “Maybe,” I considered. “But why would she stash the evidence in her locker at her work? And who called the station? Also, unless her name is recorded in the book, she has very little motive.”

  Mason turned to the last pages. “Here she is.” He tapped his finger over a small entry. “Duke recorded that she was betraying her current boss, trying to leave the cafe for a job with him.” He trailed off, flipping back and forth through the book. “There’s some sort of code here beside all the entries with initials and colors.”

  I pushed past the sasquatch to examine the book over Mason’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s a time code?”

  “Or it could indicate who would be interested in the information,” suggested the detective. “No indications of money being exchanged, although I’ve already got a lead on Duke’s financials.”

  “Let me see.” Big Willie snatched the book from Mason, holding it close to his face and reading words out loud. He rifled through pages and stopped. “Your name is in here.” His eyes lit on me.

  “What?” I grabbed the book. “It doesn’t say anything other than my name and location, but there are more initials and colors.” Until now, I hadn’t taken Duke’s or Tara’s threats to me seriously. My stomach dropped as I read my name again written in the dead man’s scratchy handwriting.

  “Honestly, the fact that you’re in here might be what we need to break the code.” Mason held out his hand for the book, taking it from me with a sympathetic glance. “We know why he thought you were valuable. If we can use that to figure out the code, we might be able to crack it.”

  “That's not our concern right now,” interrupted the sheriff. He pointed at Sassy’s locker. “Since you found the evidence in there, then I'm afraid we have no choice. We have to take the fairy in.” He held out his hand, waiting for me to hand over the skillet.

  I grasped the cast iron tighter. “You know this isn’t right,” I insisted.

  Big Willie sighed. “I know, but you have no idea the pressure that’s being put on our department right now. It's better for everything to look like it's working the way that it’s supposed to. The time to fight isn’t now, you got me, Charli? Big picture.”

  Without him saying the exact words, I understood the threat being thrown at the sasquatch. Since he hinted that Nana had shared something of the outside threat to our town with him, he understood how fra
gile things were, and I needed to listen to him, even if every fiber of my being protested.

  “I think you better stay behind and wait for us to do our thing,” instructed the sheriff. “Detective, you’re with me.”

  “I’ll be right behind you, Sheriff.” Mason lingered until we were alone. “Do you know what he means by big picture?”

  I shook my head. “I really don’t know much, but I think I need to talk to my grandmother. Go look after Sassy. Someone else is behind all this, and they need to be stopped.”

  Mason accepted my lack of a full answer, shouting out to the sheriff that he was on his way. He stopped at the door and glanced back at me. “I hope I can get a rain check on another ride?”

  The happy memory of our time together contrasted with the worry of the moment. “I’ll look forward to it,” I replied with a bit of a blush.

  The detective grinned and winked at me before leaving.

  From the tiny room, I listened to the commotion of Sassy’s arrest, wincing at her sobs and screaming protests. Slipping out the side door, I snuck around the back of the buildings on Main Street and walked in the direction of my grandmother’s house.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The sun beating down soaked my shirt. I would change it once I got to Nana’s, but the need to find more answers drove my sweat-inducing fast pace. Matt’s car pulled up beside me, and I got into the passenger seat, confused and a little worried but appreciating the air conditioning on full blast.

  “Mason called me and told me where you were headed. Nana’s not home,” my brother said. He drove off once I buckled in.

  “Where is she?” I asked.

  He kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t know. She left a note on the kitchen table, saying she’d be back in a few days. I think it has something to do with the pressure from Charleston.”

  “Things must be more serious than she let on. I think she’s talked to Big Willie about some of it. Something’s off in Honeysuckle and it’s more than just murder.” I watched the shadow and light of the sun through the trees as we drove down the road.

  We rode in silence, pondering the situation. I recognized the path to my house, not surprised that my brother escorted me back there. No doubt Big Willie had given him strict orders to make sure my behind stayed put.

  Matt put his car in park and leaned back in his seat. “Sassy’s a wreck already. Ben’s trying to get her calmed down enough so he can work with her.”

  “There’s no way she did it,” I repeated, hoping if I said it enough, at least one warden might do something about it.

  Matt cleaned a scuff off his steering wheel. “I don’t think so either, but the evidence was found in her locker at her place of work. We had to bring her in.”

  I heard and understood his words, but the whole situation didn’t sit right with me. Sure, the fairy had irritated me over the years, and our relationship was more contentious than cordial. But she didn’t deserve to go to jail for a crime she didn’t commit.

  “Ben can get her out, right?” I asked.

  Matt frowned. “That might be a problem. Big Willie got a call from someone at The Island. It sounds like they’re sending someone up to retrieve her and take her there.”

  I didn’t know much about the big supernatural jail located on a private island magically hidden off the coast. But the few tales I had heard made it sound like one of the worst places to end up. However, I thought only hardened criminals who committed the worst crimes were sent there, not diminutive fairies whose talents lay in baking a mean flaky pie crust.

  I grabbed my brother’s hand. “But she lives in Honeysuckle. Big Willie can’t let anyone take her there. It may be an island, but it’s no resort. She won’t make it that long. How in the world did it get fast-tracked to that level?”

  Matt shook his head. “This all has something to do with Nana’s problems. Big Willie already sent word to her, wherever she is.”

  “At least the sheriff doesn’t seem to be a part of whatever the conspiracy is.” I paused, considering whether or not sharing my theory with my warden brother was a good idea. Betting on him choosing family over his job, I took a chance. “This has to do with the Hawthornes. I think maybe I was wrong about Tucker.”

  “But he turned himself in. Why would he do that if he was trying to get away with murder?” Matt asked.

  He made a good point. I chewed on my fingernail, thinking. “People do odd things when they hit rock bottom, and Tuck’s scraping the dirt right now. Maybe his dad is involved. Maybe Hollis thinks that Tucker killed Duke, so he’s trying to make sure his son can’t be arrested for it.”

  Matt considered my ideas and nodded. “I’d buy it. But you have to prove it and fast before they come take Sassy away.”

  “And Big Willie made it clear that I needed to stay out of it. I think he’s aware that something bigger is going on,” I noted.

  My brother pointed at my house. “Which is why you’re gonna invite me in for some iced tea and we can continue thinking through things.”

  We spent time on the porch, rocking and talking things out. I pushed my brother to his warden limits and then backed off so he wouldn’t get in trouble for sharing information with me. I couldn’t shake my concerns about the Hawthornes, especially a nagging unease about Tucker. Perhaps my personal history with him did cloud my judgment. Even if he didn’t mean to kill Duke, it looked more and more like he had reason to hurt the manipulator.

  “If I were working for the wardens, I might put surveillance on the Hawthornes. Make sure they didn’t suddenly leave town.” Sipping on my sweet tea, I rocked and observed my brother out of the corner of my eye.

  Matt chuckled. “You act as if we’re a big city unit. There’s only so many of us. We’d run ourselves ragged if we took to watchin’ Hollis’ and Tucker’s houses. Besides, there’s only one way in or out.”

  “Not true, big brother. You’re forgettin’ the water. If they wanted to, they could leave town on a boat.” The iced tea did nothing to cool down my brain from working overtime. “Although I’m not sure they’d deem the Wilkins’ shrimping boats worthy, and Wayne wouldn’t just abscond with them in the middle of the night on his craft.”

  Matt pulled out his spell phone and tapped out a text. “You make a good point. I’m letting Mason know.”

  I smiled, remembering the detective teaching me to ride a broom, and then taking me soaring through the air.

  “What’s that look for?” my brother asked.

  “Nothin’,” I lied.

  He pushed out of his chair. “Mm-hmm. I better get goin’ and report back to my boss that you’re stayin’ out of the way here at your house. For the rest of the day.” He held out his empty glass.

  “You can’t put me on house arrest,” I protested, accepting the cup from him. “I’m not the one who needs to be monitored.”

  Matt ruffled my hair and I smacked his arm away. “Birdy, just do as you’re asked this once. At least for tonight, stay off the case.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  He walked down the porch steps. “I don’t know, go shovel poop in the barn, read a book, write a letter,” he listed out.

  “Nobody writes letters anymore. They use these.” I waved my spell phone at him, a bright idea dawning. My fingers typed as fast as they could.

  Matt turned around and walked backwards, mocking me. “You’re smart. You’ll figure somethin’ out.” His phone pinged and he answered it, receiving my zapping hext. “Ouch! You brat!” he shouted, waving his middle finger in the air as he walked through the field toward his car.

  Beau found me bored to tears, laying upside down in one of the big decorative chairs in the living room with my behind and legs stretched on the back of the chair and my head dangling off the front of it. I tried to comprehend the notes that Henry had left me to go over after my grand experiments with my magic.

  “Are you tryin’ to turn into a bat?” my roommate asked me.

  I righted myself i
n the seat, a little dizzy from the blood rushing to my feet. “No. Reading Henry’s notes. He’s given me a list of suggestions on how I could charge people if I opened a business.” I waved the wrinkled paper at the vampire.

  “I saw it. I think he has some good ideas you could use.” Beau primped in front of the decorative mirror on the wall.

  I caught a whiff of a strong scent and wrinkled my nose. “What is that stench?”

  He grinned, showing off his fangs. “Do you like it? Cordelia bought it for me.”

  “What did you do, bathe in it?” I held my nose. “You might want to wash some of it off.”

  “No way. Tonight’s the social dance at the retirement home, and I want my cologne to act as catnip to the ladies. If I had a nickel for every girl who looks my way tonight, I might come home a rich man.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, and I couldn’t be mad at my crazy lady-killer roommate. As long as he didn’t actually kill anyone.

  His comment about a nickel jogged my memory. “Frosted fairy wings, I completely forgot!”

  “Forgot what?” Beau called out as I ran upstairs.

  Digging around my dirty clothes, I found the pair of pants I was wearing when Mason and I first went to the Wilkins’ house. “Please still be there,” I begged, rummaging through the pockets.

  Cool metal pressed against my fingers, and I pulled out the coin I’d found underneath the bedside table in the room Duke stayed in.

  “Hey, Beau, do you know anything about old coins?” I asked, trotting down the stairs and doing my best not to cover my nose and offend him.

  He shrugged. “A little. Why? Did you find something of value in one of Tipper’s hidden stashes?”

  I debated telling him where I found the coin, but held back the truth to keep him from being too involved in my theories. “I just found it and put it in my pocket. I kind of forgot it was there until just now. What do you think it is?” I handed him the brown metal.