A Southern Charms Cozy Potluck Box Set Page 25

  “I think I'm gonna head out.” Dash touched my arm.

  I reached up and brushed a smear of frosting from his upper lip and whiskers. “Had enough?”

  His eyes burned into me. “I’ve barely gotten started.” He gripped my wrist in his hand and captured my thumb in his mouth, licking the frosting off and grazing my skin with his teeth. Warm tingles shot down to my belly, and I barely contained the shiver that shuddered my body. “I’d be happy to stay and walk you home when you’re ready,” the shifter offered.

  I swallowed hard. “I-I think I might take Nana home. She's had a hard night.” Pixie poop. Why did my mouth utter the truth before my brain caught up? Next time a good-looking man asked to escort me home, I needed to say yes, no matter what.

  “As you wish.” Dash winked and left.

  “Phew, that man sure is a handful,” Blythe said, riling me up.

  “More like a mouthful if you ask Charli and her thumb,” Lily added, her eyes twinkling at me.

  The heat from my cheeks could melt the ice cream on top of my slice of pecan pie. “Shut up.”

  Lavender opened her mouth to tell everyone what color my aura was, but I held up a hand at her in warning. “Don't you dare.”

  “I wasn't. I was going to point out that the detective is heading your way. He’s been standing there, watching you for a bit.” She pointed behind me, and I turned.

  Mason strode straight for me, a grimace on his face. Whatever he was working on, it couldn't be good. The prospect of helping him again sent a zing of excitement through me. It had been a long time since he'd asked me for anything, and I was beginning to wonder if he'd forgotten where I lived.

  “Detective Clairmont, I didn't know you were here tonight,” I joked, using formality to break the chilly distance between us.

  “Isn't everybody?” he replied in a stern voice, keeping that wall of ice firmly in place.

  “For the most part,” I agreed. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Yes. Follow me.” He didn't even meet my gaze when he spoke, and gave me no option to refuse, turning around and stomping back the way he'd come. I followed behind like an obedient puppy, hoping for him to throw me some scraps so I might grab a clue about where the two of us stood.

  “Mason, slow down,” I cried out.

  “Hurry up,” he insisted, not lagging for a second. He led the way to an area in between the gazebo stage and the desserts.

  A loud British voice chastised some unlucky target. “You are completely useless.”

  “I’m sorry, Raif,” my roommate Beau apologized. He bowed his head in submission to the other vampire.

  “Sorry doesn't make up for what you've done.” Raif’s nose pointed higher in the air than ever.

  As I approached, I spotted pink tears forming in Beau's eyes. Nobody talked to my roommate like that, and I broke away from Mason to support my friend. “What's going on?”

  “Oh, good. The detective found you.” Raif thrust a finger in Beau’s face. “This moron lost my precious pug.”

  Mason joined the fray. “I think the situation requires a sense of calm and not accusations. I'm sure that Charli here can help find your dog.”

  “I didn't do anything,” sniffled Beau. “I held onto the leash as you asked me to. He was by my side throughout the entire event. Except…”

  “Except when?” Raif stepped closer to my roommate, seething. “When did my precious baby disappear?”

  “There was so much commotion when the speeches were interrupted by Eugenia. And once that was all over, it took me a few minutes to figure out that Sir Barklay had worked his way out of his collar.” The pudgy vampire held up the sparkling leather collar attached to a leash.

  “Are those real diamonds?” I asked in surprise.

  Raif snatched the collar and leash away from Beau. “That's none of your business. I want you to do whatever it is you do to find my sweet boy. Now.”

  “Whatever is the commotion here?” The man I'd run into before the speeches approached us. “Raif, you look positively pale, and that's saying something about a fellow vampire.” He clapped his friend on the back.

  “My pug. He's gone,” whined Raif.

  “Oh, dear. Perhaps we should form a search party. I would be happy to help organize the effort,” offered the newcomer.

  “That's quite all right.” Raif took a slight step away. “The detective here has already enlisted Charlotte's help in finding my Barklay.”

  The complete change in the snooty vampire’s demeanor and speech floored me. Two seconds ago, he was a raving lunatic, distraught and inconsolable. Now he spoke with such deep emotion that I almost felt sorry for him.

  “And what is it that Miss Charlotte can do for you?” the fellow vampire asked.

  “I find things, Mr.—”

  “Mallory. Damien Mallory. Longtime friend of Raif here and his current guest for the time being. I would like to see these talents of yours at work, Miss Charlotte.” His focus on me and not his friend’s dog perked my interest.

  Raif shot me a look of frustration, and my annoyance with him returned. It was too bad that Lady Eveline had chosen this specific time to travel to Europe to visit with friends. Usually, she could appease Raif and ease his moods. But maybe she’d left when she did in order to avoid dealing with him while he ran for the council seat.

  If I could refuse him, I would. But I took pity on him for missing his dog. If anyone had messed with my Peaches, I'd be in a similar state.

  With a sigh, I acquiesced. “Here. Give me your hand.” I extended mine and waited for the cold touch of the tall vampire.

  Raif placed his hand in mine with reluctance, probably wishing he could do anything else but touch someone he deemed less than him.

  “Concentrate on what it is you want to find,” I instructed.

  The vampire candidate closed his eyes and repeated his pug’s name over and over.

  Concentrating, I gathered my powers and focused them in my center. I waited for an image to present itself. Nothing. Clearing my throat, I whispered under my breath, “Even though he’s awfully smug, help me find his precious pug.”

  Still nothing. Not even a thin line of glowing connection. Sweat broke out on my brow, and I opened one eye to find everyone staring at me.

  “Did you get anything?” Mason asked.

  Shaking my head, I admitted the truth. “No.”

  Raif snatched his hand out of mine. “I knew it. I knew she wouldn't help me. You think I didn't see you and your friends leave the audience early during my speech? I thought this town was all about politeness, and yet you dare to hold back with me? Not even willing to help when a precious baby is involved.”

  Damien attempted to console Raif, but his friend shrugged off his embrace. “I think it's premature to accuse young Charlotte of not helping you. Perhaps it will take something more.”

  “Or maybe he can find his dog on his own,” I shot back at him. “I don't hold back, Raif. I'm not the one who discriminates.”

  My blood boiled, and I debated standing my ground and taking on the insufferable fool or storming off. Mason offered no help in the situation despite my pleading gaze at him. Beau spoke up in my defense, but his low trembling voice couldn't be heard over all the yelling.

  My brother approached us, waving his hands. “I think I have something here that belongs to you.” He moved to the side and revealed Mrs. Kettlefields standing behind him.

  The old woman held the vampire’s pug in her arms. “This sweet boy was running around the tables and I caught him. Young Mr. Goodwin here says he belongs to you. But I found him and he has no collar.” She grasped the pooch with firm hands, the little dog whimpering at her touch.

  “That's my sweetums,” insisted Raif. He stormed toward the elderly witch and snatched his pet from her hands. “I suppose you took him on purpose. Part of your plan to throw off the election.”

  I shook my head. “Beau already told you that Barklay disappeared while sh
e was on stage, so she didn't snatch your precious pug. She found him for you, so you better thank her, not accuse her.”

  “His name is Sir Barklay.” Raif shut his mouth, refusing to offer any gratitude.

  Damien stepped between the two of them. “My dear madam, please allow me to extend my friend’s thanks to you for finding his beloved pet.” He reached out to touch her arm, and she jumped away from his grasp.

  “I’d like to go home now,” she insisted to my brother.

  “I think that's a good idea, Mrs. Kettlefields.” Matt escorted her away.

  “You've got your dog back. Y’all have a good night,” I offered in a clipped tone. Standing aside, I waited for Mason to say something to me.

  He addressed the three vampires instead. “I need to get back to the station. Goodnight, gentlemen.” The detective walked off without one glance my way, leaving me behind.

  “Goodnight, Detective,” I called out.

  “Goodnight, Miss Goodwin,” he replied without turning around.

  I returned to my friends in utter dejection. Not only had my talents not worked at all but also my charms no longer worked with the detective. Not even an extra slice of homemade red velvet cake with thick cream cheese frosting could sweeten the sour taste of failure.

  Chapter Four

  Something tickled my nose, and I waved my hand to brush it away. The sensation returned, and I tried to smack whatever it was that dared to bother me. When the irritating touch happened a third time, I captured the culprit with my hand.

  “Whoever this is, you're dead to me,” I declared to the offender.

  “If you kill me, then you don't get any ham and jelly biscuits.”

  I opened one eye and glared at my brother. “Who made them? You?”

  He scoffed. “Of course not. I just came from Nana's. I'll make some coffee if you'll shake a tail feather, Birdy.”

  It'd taken me a long time to fall asleep last night. I replayed over and over again my interaction with Raif, focusing on my inability to make any connection with his dog. Finding a lost animal like that should have been child's play. Literally, I could have done it when I was seven or eight. Why didn't my talents work last night?

  By the time I tamed my hair into something presentable, the scent of coffee caught my attention. I stomped my way down the old creaky staircase and plopped down into the wooden chair at the small table in the kitchen, folding forward and leaning my head on the table. My brother slid a mug in front of me. “Here, Birdy.”

  “Don't call me that,” I mumbled into the surface of the table. Lifting my head enough to take a sip of coffee, I savored the warmth of it for two seconds, and then slammed my head back down on the table.

  “What has you all out of sorts?” my brother asked.

  My absolute abject failure, I thought. “Nothing,” I replied.

  Without looking up, I snatched a biscuit from the plate in the center of the table. Once again, I lifted my head enough to take a bite and another swallow of coffee before dropping it down again on the cool surface.

  “Gee. I completely believe you,” Matt teased.

  “It's nothing,” I managed with a mouthful of biscuit, ham, and jelly. Even one of my favorite breakfast items couldn't lift my spirits this morning.

  “Say it, don't spray it.” He wiped off his face. “At least don't waste Nana's buttermilk biscuits.”

  “What are you doing here anyway?” I asked, sitting up and accepting the plate he pushed at me.

  “TJ is out with the horses,” Matt said. He and my sister-in-law had fixed up an old barn on part of Tipper’s land, which now belonged to my brother. The house and some of the property around it belonged to me, but he owned the rest thanks to our generous great-uncle and his will.

  However, Matt had still asked for my blessing before fixing up the old barn to TJ’s standards in order to house a few rescue horses. My sister-in-law had a soft spot for the large animals, and it frustrated her that her pregnancy would affect her ability to ride.

  “I can't believe you’re in here while she’s out there scooping the poop all by herself,” I accused.

  “I’m making her?” my brother exclaimed in frustration. “I tried to tell her we could hire someone to help, and she nearly bit my head off. Asked me if I was saying that she was weak or something. Which is nothing like what I said.”

  I failed at stifling a giggle. “So what you're saying is that you're hiding out in here.”

  “No. I brought my little sister some breakfast.”

  “Coward.”

  “Husband of a crazy pregnant woman,” Matt replied, pointing at himself.

  “It's going to be a lot of fun watching you try to handle things,” I chuckled.

  He groaned. “You could at least have some sympathy.”

  “I’m a girl. Any sympathy I have lies with the pregnant woman. Solidarity and sisterhood.” I raised my fist in the air.

  “You're all crazy,” my brother breathed out.

  “Say that to her. I dare you. She'll hex your hiney so fast.” I continued to give my brother grief until he couldn't take it anymore. Changing the subject to save his sanity, I took another bite of biscuit. “So where did you find Mrs. K last night?”

  “The caretakers from the retirement home swear they had left her sitting at a table with a plate of desserts and a cup of iced tea. But she was walking on the edge of the crowd, muttering to herself and holding the dog that turned out to be Raif’s. I heard all the commotion where you were and put everything together. When I tried to take the dog away from her, she fought me, so I escorted her to you guys.”

  Remembering the haunted gaze in her eyes, I shuddered. “Last night was weird, right? I mean, she was always a little cuckoo in her passion about the town's history. But this was on another level.”

  “You should've heard her, muttering that it wasn't right and that she she wished she could remember. I couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was saying, but she was clearly in distress. After we got her to return the dog, I took her back to the retirement home. I hope she settled down after that.”

  “What did Nana say this morning?” I asked.

  “She wants things to settle down a bit, and then maybe visit Mrs. Kettlefields herself. Nana’s got her hands full with the election, so I don't want her distracted any more than she has to be.” Matt covered his worry with a sip of his drink.

  “I think last night went beyond the distraction,” I said.

  My brother scooted back from the table and stood. He grabbed one more biscuit. “Well, I'm off.”

  “Going to the station?” I asked.

  “No. I'm going to go approach my wife with courage and see if she'll accept my help with the horses.” He picked up Peaches who must have been rubbing around his ankles under the table, and placed her orange furry body in my lap.

  “Good luck,” I wished my brother, holding my kitty in my arms and walking him to the door.

  “I’m going to need it,” he admitted. He waved at me and walked through the field toward the barn.

  “He definitely is,” I muttered to Peaches. She squirmed to be let down before bounding outside to chase a dragonfly.

  Fortified with another cup of coffee, I charged upstairs and opened the door to another room full of chaos. When my great-uncle left me his house, I knew he meant for it to be a beneficial gift. But his years of hoarding made it a treasure trove of trash that took time to sift through. A normal person might take a shovel to it all without going through every scrap of paper, but beyond the need to straighten up the house, I was looking for something specific.

  Somewhere inside, there might be paperwork or clues to my origins. Beau had accidentally revealed to me that Tipper had something to do with my adoption. I wanted proof of the truth of that statement, not because I doubted my pudgy vampire roommate but because a part of me desired to know more than just my life in Honeysuckle.

  Sure, my family was my family. My brother was my brother. That would
never change. But if I had a clue to follow in finding the biological family that I came from, then maybe I could understand my powers. Or at least have someone to ask what to do when they completely failed.

  After a couple of hours spent up to my elbows in useless trash, I sat on my behind in full-on depressed mode. I'd barely made a dent with my efforts in one room. When Beau was home, he helped bolster my spirits, promising that maybe the next piece of paper I picked up might be the one. But without him here, the reality that my life was drowning in a sea of stockpiled trash overwhelmed me.

  A sharp knock on the front door startled me out of my dark thoughts. Springing up, I ran downstairs to answer it. When I opened the door, Dash stood on the other side of the screen, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Morning, ma'am.”

  I grinned from ear to ear, unable to hide my joy and relief at his presence. “Mornin’ yourself. You want to come in? I think there's at least one last ham and jelly biscuit left.”

  The wolf shifter shook his head. “No, I'm good in the food department. But I would like to request your presence out here for a moment.”

  I pulled the door wide and joined him on the porch. “What have you got up your sleeves?” I asked.

  “Not wearing any sleeves,” he replied, showing off his muscular arms and bulging biceps. “What you see is what you get.”

  “I wish,” I muttered under my breath as I walked down the porch steps.

  Two bikes sat in front of the house. Dash walked around and presented the first one to me with a flourish of his hands. “Ta-da,” he sang out.

  “That's my bike,” I admitted.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “But you already gifted that to me before,” I said in confusion.

  Dash held up a finger. “But now it's the new and improved bike. I got Lee to work his magic on it. He said he spellcrafted it so that it will move on its own.”