Rags To Witches Page 19
“Yes, ma’am,” I grumbled, suppressing the argument that the agent would come and do his or her business whether we were in good clothes or naked as the day is long.
My father answered the knock on the door and came back to the living room with a scowl. Ebonee followed behind him, wearing a smart pantsuit and tall stilettos.
“Thank you for allowing me to be here for the meeting,” she said, regarding each of us. “You all look very fine.”
“I called you here as a courtesy to my daughter and out of respect for your position,” Dad replied, perching on top of the arm of the couch next to his brother. “Don’t think this means I’ll be joining your club.”
Ebonee raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t extend an invitation to you, Buck.”
Their banter back and forth gave me the heebie jeebies, and I needed to change the subject fast. “What was the name of the agent?”
“Agent Dryope. Not sure if that’s a first name or last,” Uncle Jo replied. “All I know is that as soon as we found that IMP marking on the sewing machine, we were obligated to contact their office.”
“Does that mean we won’t get to sell it for Ms. Robin?” I asked, concerned that the kind woman would get the short end of the stick.
“If the organization doesn’t offer reasonable compensation as a finder’s fee, then I will take it to the coven to come up with a fair price.” Ebonee took out a compact from her purse and reapplied her lipstick.
“That’s a kind consideration,” Dad remarked, gazing a little too long at her.
I popped up from the chair the moment I heard the second knock. “I’ll get it.”
A willowy woman with light green hair towered over me. She flashed me a badge. “I’m Agent Dryope of the International Magic Patrol.”
Never having met an agent of a large magical organization, I didn’t know whether to curtsy, bow, or stare at her.
She cleared her throat. “May I enter?”
“Oh, yes. Please come in.” I moved out of her way and marveled at how she almost had to duck to make it through our doorway. “I’m Ruby Mae Jewell, daughter of the person who contacted you.”
“I’ve read a recent report involving you. Seems you were instrumental in taking down a witch who had broken the law and spellbound somebody,” she revealed. “That’s pretty impressive for someone your age.”
When we reached the living room, I looked around at all the people who’d helped me along the way. “I had a lot of help.”
“Ruby Mae’s an exceptional coven member. I’m Ebonee Johnson, leader of the Crystal Coast Coven.” The woman couldn’t help but promote herself when she was here to observe.
After introductions to the other members of my family, Dad offered the agent a seat, and she sat down with a lithe grace. “I want to thank you on behalf of IMP for finding Item Number 348K-261 and reporting it. Our agency is prepared to offer you a cash reward for your troubles.”
Uncle Jo leaned forward. “It’s not so much that we want the money for ourselves, but we’d like to make sure that the lady who thought we were going to sell it for her on consignment gets what it’s worth.”
“The amount I’ve been authorized to transfer to you will more than cover a fair price for the object as well as compensate you for your time and effort.” Agent Dryope asked for a piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled down some numbers and handed it to my uncle.
He choked on his sip of iced tea when he read the note. “Yeah, that’ll more than cover things.”
Ebonee shifted in her seat. “I’m glad the agency is willing to treat the local magical community with such respect. But I have to wonder why a large amount of money would be offered for one simple item. What is it about the sewing machine that makes it so valuable?”
For once, I was glad to be the observer and not the instigator when the agent’s countenance underneath her leafy-green hair morphed from friendly to shrewd. “Part of the deal would include an agreement that you won’t talk about the sewing machine or giving it back to us to anyone after today.”
“Sign me up,” Uncle Jo exclaimed. “We can finally purchase a new truck to haul things in for that price.”
My father placed a hand on his brother’s arm. “Nothing good is ever easy. Agent Dryope, before any of us agree to anything, I’d like to echo Ms. Johnson’s inquiry. Why all the money? What’s the true value of the sewing machine to your agency?”
The green-haired woman leaned back in her chair and crossed her long slender legs. “Fine. But the price of sharing this information is that you will not repeat it.”
All of us in the room caved into our curiosity and agreed. The agent crossed her arms as well. “Back in the late sixties, there was a big robbery of IMP holdings when one of our trucks was hijacked. Turns out it was a planned heist involving a couple of rogue agents, so the agency hushed it up to prevent the shame of our failure from being known. Some of the items were recovered, but many of them were sold on the black market and made it out into the mortal world. We’ve had many teams dispatched to collect and return them back to our vaults.”
“I can identify with that,” Uncle Jo teased, nudging my father. The joke went over the agent’s head.
“From the reports filed with your local wardens, its apparent that the mortal who gained control of the item never realized what she had for her use, and so it went unnoticed for so long.” Agent Dryope stood up. “And now I’d like one of you to take me to see it for myself. Before I give you the money, I’d like to verify the item.”
Dad glowered at her. “I hope you’re not insinuating that you have to make sure we’re not fleecing you with a fake.”
“I apologize if that’s your interpretation of my words,” the agent sniffed, failing to truly express an apology.
Uncle Jo stood up. “I’ve set it up down in our storage barn in preparation for your visit.”
“You mean you left it out in the open where anyone could take it?” Agent Dryope scolded.
“We have some pretty decent security,” I offered, hoping she’d get a chance to find out for herself just how effective Rex was.
Leaving my father and uncle to take care of the rest, Ebonee prepared to go. “Ruby Mae, I want you to know how pleased I am with all of your work to stop Tara from harming anyone else. I’ve been informed that Gloria should be released in the next week or so, and that she’ll be perfectly clear of any aftereffects of the spellbinding.”
A genuine smile spread across my face. “That’s good to hear. Thank you for telling me.” I escorted her to the door.
She paused before stepping out of the house. “I suppose I’ve been a little harsher on you than most because of my history with your father.” Her braids fell in front of her face as she bent her head. “I guess I would say that being a Jewell isn’t a bad thing, and I will no longer imply that.” Without looking me in the eyes, she left.
Granny Jo materialized by my side. “Stars in heaven, you better go get a net. Because any moment now, we’re gonna see your cousin Deacon flying right past us.”
Dad allowed me to give Ms. Robin a good chunk of what we got from the IMP agent. With the official report that Tara had been detained and taken away, the designer embraced her choice to close her shop and finally put together a closeout sale of all of her dresses. She let our close friend group have first choice.
“What do you think?” I asked Dani, holding up a dark green dress in front of my body. “Will this look good on me?”
“I like the dark blue one better,” she said, still sorting through the rack to add to her collection.
Crystal called our names and we joined her and Cate on the couch. Azalea and Gloria opened their dressing room curtains at the same time and emerged in gorgeous creations that looked both reminiscent of the stylish past and completely modern.
“I love that yours is the same blush pink,” I told the new bride.
Ms. Robin fussed over the fabric. “I had forgotten I had this sweet little number tucked awa
y in the back. And because you lost your other dress, I want you to have this one.”
The new bride twisted and turned in the mirror. “I love it. It’ll be a perfect dress to wear for our second wedding reception.”
Once Roscoe got back from his fishing trip and heard about what happened to Harrison, he wanted to do as much as he could to help them out. In true Roscoe fashion, he provided enough money for them to redo their reception, complete with catered food, cake, and to bring back the band.
Gloria wiped a tear from her eye, happy for her friend. Ms. Robin embraced her by her shoulder. “And if you like what you’re wearing, that’s yours, too.”
We jumped up from the couch with high-pitched squeals and rushed over to gush and rave. I pulled Ms. Robin off to the side and gave her a long hug. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She blushed under my attention. “I’ve got more than enough to last me. I got into the business to make others happy. At least I’m ending things on a good note.”
“You definitely are,” I agreed, rejoining my friends and accepting a glass of champagne.
After a lot of pain and suffering, we had a lot to celebrate. And because of what we went through, we appreciated moments like this even more.
You’re Cordially Invited!
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Series Order
Southern Relics Cozy Mysteries
A little sweet tea and a whole lot of spells won’t always put out the fire…
Flea Market Magic
Rags To Witches
Pickup and Pirates
Series Order
Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Series
Magic and mystery are only part of the Southern Charms of Honeysuckle Hollow…
Suggested reading order:
Chess Pie & Choices: Prequel
Moonshine & Magic: Book 1
Lemonade & Love Potions: A Cozy Short
Fried Chicken & Fangs: Book 2
Sweet Tea & Spells: Book 3
Barbecue & Brooms: Book 4
Collards & Cauldrons: Book 5
Cornbread & Crossroads: Book 6 (Coming Soon)
Acknowledgments
There are many thanks to be given for this book, but there are some special people I owe this book to.
To all my plot buddies who save my behind again and again - Melanie Summers, Boyd Craven, Danielle Garrett, Cate Lawley - I owe you all many drinks!
A special shout out to my editor and fellow author, April - You save me time and time again. I love you like a sister!
For my Hubs - This time around, your experience and expertise always help me figure out the best way to either wound or kill my characters. Thank you for sharing with me!
About the Author
Bella Falls grew up on the magic of sweet tea, barbecue, and hot and humid Southern days. She met her husband at college over an argument of how to properly pronounce the word pecan (for the record, it should be pea-cawn, and they taste amazing in a pie). Although she’s had the privilege of living all over the States and the world, her heart still beats to the rhythm of the cicadas on a hot summer’s evening.
Now, she’s taken her love of the South and woven it into a world where magic and mystery aren’t the only Charms.
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