Fried Chicken & Fangs (A Southern Charms Cozy Mystery Book 2) Read online

  “Eureka,” I whispered, grasping a glass bottle.

  My hand would stink of the spilled perfume for weeks, I thought. How did this get in here?

  Standing up, I searched for a nearby place where it might have been. On the top of her antique wooden dresser, a dark-ringed stain stood out on its surface. Leaning down and taking a whiff, I confirmed that the perfume bottle had been here before it was spilled and fell into the laundry basket. Not much else sat on top of the surface, which was unusual for an impeccable Southern woman, but maybe what she cherished most rested on her old desk.

  I ran my hand over the wood and stepped closer to inspect the dresser. My foot crunched on something. Peering down, I examined whatever was broken underneath. Reflections of my light bounced off the remains of the glass of a mirror. A silver handle poked out from underneath the dresser. A matching brush lay nearby, almost as if both pieces had been on top of the dresser and knocked off.

  I guessed that there’d been a struggle here, making the room the potential scene of her actual death. At least maybe my efforts would put Horatio in the free and clear. No way could a troll have made it into the room without being heard or seen. And his massive presence wouldn't have fit very well. But whoever had attacked Mrs. K, surely they’d committed the murder here and deliberately moved her. But why?

  The door slammed open, and I jumped, dropping the perfume bottle from my hand. “Charli. I should've known.” Mason glared at me in disapproval.

  “I’m here visiting a friend?” I attempted.

  “Don't tell me. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and somehow found yourself in a murder victim’s room instead? How lucky for you.” He crossed his arms.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Do you think so little of my skills that I wouldn't have already searched this room? I purposefully didn’t cast a warden’s protection on the room because it occurred to me that perhaps the killer might return to the scene of the crime. And here you are.”

  “You know I didn’t do it,” I scoffed.

  Mason stared me down until something caught his attention. He sniffed and stepped closer to me. “Why do you smell like that?”

  I pointed at the bottle on the floor. “Her perfume.”

  “Did you pick that up yourself? Charli,” he admonished.

  Pixie poop. “I found it in her clothes hamper. There’s a stain on top of the dresser where it probably sat before it was knocked off.”

  “I know,” said Mason.

  “And a hand mirror and brush look like they flew off the dresser in a struggle, too,” I added.

  “Again, I know, Charli.”

  “How do you know?” I challenged.

  “Because I’ve already done a thorough sweep of the room, taking notes from everything.” He produced his pad.

  “Then why wasn't it cordoned off?”

  Mason’s eyes burrowed into me. “Because I set up an alarm spell to alert me if anyone came in. I thought that maybe the culprit might return to the scene to clean up his or her tracks. I get here and find you right in the middle of things. Even when I instructed you to stay out of it.”

  He had me. There was no excuse I could produce that would get me out of trouble. I raised my hands and shrugged my shoulders. “Curiosity?”

  “It killed the cat and could get you into trouble,” he countered.

  “I’m used to that,” I said.

  “I wish you wouldn't be.” The detective sighed. “Fine. Did find anything else worthy of note?”

  I shook my head. “I was kind of hoping I would find something that didn't belong. That way I could test it and see if it led me somewhere.”

  “You are hoping to find an item off the murderer that would take you straight to him or her? You really have no sense of safety, do you?”

  “I hadn't gotten that far in my plans,” I admitted.” Plus, you know my limitations. Finding a person is a lot harder for me than finding an object.”

  “So, what you're saying is that your skills may not be helpful at the moment and that maybe you should leave the job to someone say, oh, more like me?” He pointed at himself.

  “Fine,” I breathed out. “You win.” I held up my hand like a common criminal in surrender.

  “I sincerely doubt that you’re giving me anything other than a victory in this small moment.” He escorted me to the door. “I’m going to have to reseal the room again.”

  “I’m sorry I gave you more work to do,” I teased. Before I left, I took his hand in mine. “Promise me you will call me if there is anything I can find for you.”

  He pulled away from my touch. “The only thing I want you to search for is your way home and the ability to stay out of my investigation.” He wrinkled his nose. “And maybe some soap and water to wash off that scent.”

  I sniffed my hand and cringed. “I don't think I'll ever be able to have gardenias in my house.” I made my way down the hall, bypassing Cordelia’s room and ignoring the grunts and giggles coming from behind the closed door.

  Chapter Nine

  Whenever I attempted to use my magic to find any evidence of Uncle Tipper’s participation in my adoption, I only drained myself of spent energy. Perhaps the papers I longed for didn't exist, or maybe, like finding a needle in a haystack, I might have to clear out the house of more junk before my magic would work.

  I toiled through an entire day, sifting through piles and piles of stuff with no more success than a few full trash bags. At least the task at hand kept me busy and stopped me from obsessing about Mrs. K. By now, the entire town was focused more on who had killed the old teacher than on the election itself. Based on the rumors floating about, Horatio's chances in the election were slim to none, and none just rode out of town on the back of a unicorn.

  “I think you need some help,” suggested Beau, interrupting my thoughts.

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s getting to be a bigger task than I thought it would be. Even with your help, it could take years to go through everything.”

  My roommate opened up one of the trash bags to check out what I was tossing. “What about your friend's service? Or maybe Juniper’s too busy with the election and her boyfriend currently in hot water.”

  I shrugged. “She does have a crew that works for her, although I’m not sure I would trust anybody but her to go through the paperwork. You do have a point, though. I can’t go through the entire house alone. I’ll check with her. It might be worth the money to at least organize the chaos.”

  Beau eyed the small space clean from the debris that surrounded me in the room. “I agree. Oh, and you have a piece of mail waiting for you downstairs.”

  When I got to the first floor, I found the thick cream envelope sitting on top of a side table with my name written in fancy calligraphy. I dreaded opening it, but throwing it away wouldn't change what waited inside. With a sigh, I ripped the expensive paper open and pulled out the invitation announcing the engagement party for Tucker Hawthorne and my cousin Clementine.

  No one knew about the conversation between Tucker and me when he let me know that he still had feelings for me before I took off to find his business partner and guilty murderer Ashton at Tipper’s house. I'd closed the door on the chapter of my life that included him, and he chose to walk through the rest of his with my cousin. I hoped that he found happiness in his choice, but I would never be able to conjure up anything more than good wishes.

  Giving in to a darker mood, I trudged into the kitchen and fixed myself a tall glass of iced tea. Carrying it out to the porch, I plopped down into one of the rockers, staring out into the glow of the day’s sunset. A black dot in the sky winged its way toward me, and the caws that called out as it got closer stopped the flood of heavy thoughts weighing on me. Tipper’s crow, Biddy, circled and descended until she landed on the porch railing, flapping her wings and squawking at me.

  “Hey there, Miss Biddy,” I cooed at her. “How you doin’?”

  The bird co
cked her head to the side to regard me with her bright yellow eye. She cawed in odd syllables, holding up her end of the conversation.

  “Oh, me? I guess I've been better,” I admitted to the crow. I don't suppose you know where Tipper kept all his secrets hidden?”

  The bird hopped on the railing but gave away no hints. With a light flap of her wings, Biddy fluttered to the rocking chair beside me, Tipper’s usual place to enjoy some sweet tea.

  “I miss him, too.” Even if he wasn't all there in his head, the old man had given pretty decent advice, and I could use any help I could get right now. As if sensing my sadness, the crow hopped over and lit on my shoulder much like she used to with my great-uncle. Her head nudged under my chin. And I scratched her dark feathers with the tip of my finger.

  “Thanks, girl.” The two of us rocked on the porch together until the last orange rays of the sun decorated the sky.

  When I opened the door that evening to answer an incessant knocking, a strong hand grabbed me and pulled me outside. I shrieked and fought against the perpetrator, beating my fists into strong muscles.

  Dash snickered at my efforts. “Feeling feisty tonight, are we?”

  Adrenaline pumped through me, and I smacked his arm. “Far from it.”

  He picked up my hand and sniffed it. “Why do you smell like that same scent from the other night?” I’d done my best to scrub off the remains of Mrs. K’s perfume from my hand, but his sensitive nose still picked up on the few particles left behind.

  “I spilled some perfume before, and guess I didn’t get it all off. What are you doing here?” My diversion question came out sharper than I had intended.

  “I think someone needs to have some fun, and I've heard there's a place nearby where you can let loose a little.” He pointed out into the darkness of the yard.

  “Where?” I didn’t have the energy to pull myself together and make an effort.

  Dash touched the frown lines on my forehead and attempted to soothe them out. “Stop your fussin’. I promise you’ll have fun. And it’s within walking distance.”

  I appreciated the wolf shifter’s efforts to cheer me up, but the heavy tiredness of depression still clung to me. “Not tonight,” I refused. “But thanks anyway.”

  “If you don't come with me now, there will be a group of invaders that will descend upon your house and drag you out. Which is scarier?” To make me laugh, he pulled his animal to the surface, his eyes glowing amber, and fangs growing in his toothy grin, sharp and long. “Of course, I could always kidnap you myself,” he rasped, his voice teetering between man and beast.

  I conjured up a tiny ball of crackling energy in my hand and tossed it at him in play. The ball whizzed right by his head, almost scorching off some of his beard. It sizzled and went out in the darkness of night. “Careful. I can be scary, too.”

  “I like a challenge.” Dash wiggled his eyebrows at me.

  I found myself smiling despite my bad mood. “You're not going to leave me alone, are you?”

  He shook his head. “Surrender or be taken. Those are your options.”

  While I contemplated my options, Dash scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Took too long,” he declared.

  I thrashed about in his grasp, and he swatted my behind. “Behave, or you might get yourself hurt.”

  Conjuring up an easy hex I used to use on Matt, I aimed my magic at the wolf shifter’s firm backside and let loose.

  “Ow,” he cried out, setting me down on the ground and rubbing the offended area. “That hurt.”

  “Told you. I can be fierce when I want to be.”

  “Duly noted.”

  No longer being carried by a shifter with better night vision than me, I couldn't tell which way to go. Dash took my hand in his and led the way. A whinnying sound and the bucking against a wooden door alerted me to our proximity to the barn.

  “They’re noisy tonight,” I exclaimed.

  “They can sense me,” said Dash. “Horses and wolves don't necessarily make the best friends. They're smart enough to sense the danger, unlike some girls who seem not to get enough.” He squeezed my hand.

  I gulped, and let the implication of his words float into the night air, joining the chirping of the cicadas.

  As we reached the edge of the property, light from inside the shed ahead lit a small area around it. Laughter and voices from inside beckoned us. When we got closer, I pulled my hand away from Dash’s, unwilling to deal with any questions or teasing. I immediately missed his warm touch.

  “Finally, cried out Blythe. “We were getting ready to storm the castle.”

  An orange object blurred past me and pounced into the middle of the room. Peaches had followed us from the house, thrilled to have playmates in the old shed. She rubbed herself on everyone's leg and got down to the serious business of chasing shadows and dust mice.

  “Now that we’re all here, I can pass out the party favors.” Lee placed a small device in each of our hands except Dash’s.

  “You don't get one?” I asked him.

  He dug something out of his pocket and pulled out a similar looking rectangle. “I already have one.”

  “Is this what Mrs. K was talking about in her crazy rant?” asked Lily.

  “Yes, although I got on daddy’s back for talkin’ about it out in public, especially since I haven't perfected it yet.”

  “I know what they are,” I said. “They're called mobile phones.”

  In my experience in the world outside of Honeysuckle, most of the magical community stayed away from human technology. Although there were spells to protect any devices from frying when used, magic and the more intricate electronics of today's devices didn't mix well. Unless they lived in a large city with a massive contingency of humans and magical beings living in tandem, most magic wielders avoided human technology. It surprised me that Lee wanted to mess with it.

  “Dash and I found a huge stash of these at on one of our last runs,” Lee explained. The two friends liked to go scrapping for parts all over. According to the shifter, he was still searching for a replacement part for my dad's old motorcycle.

  “These phones seemed to be out of date with current human technology, but I think they’ll work just fine for us.” He flipped the top piece of plastic to reveal a keypad underneath. Dash pressed a button on the side, and his device lit up. After a few beeps, an alarming noise coming from his phone startled us.

  The wolf shifter opened his device in the same manner and pressed the button in the center. “Hey, Lee.”

  Ben looked at the two guys. “So it's a communication device? But how are you powering it without blowing its circuits with your magic?”

  “Are those already spelled?” I asked, remembering the phones the last tracker I worked with had used.

  “I think I figured out a different way to make them work in Honeysuckle. They tap into the same magic that protects our town. They won't work outside of here, but within our borders, they’ll give us a way to communicate with each other faster. If you scroll through the menu, you'll see that I've already programmed all of your numbers so that all you have to do is scroll and select who you want to call.” He launched into a more detailed explanation, and we followed along, trying to keep up.

  “So instead of cell phones, you've created spell phones,” I announced. “Lee, has anyone told you lately that you're brilliant?”

  Alison Kate grabbed him by his cheeks and planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I have,” she exclaimed.

  We spent the next half-hour calling each other back and forth until we understood how to work the devices.

  “Right now, the only ones that work are here in this room. But if y'all can help me test things out and make improvements, I may be able to make them work for our entire community.” Our friend accepted all of the heaps of praises and congratulations for his idea in embarrassed humility.

  “I think it's awesome, Lee. But I have one more question. How come Alison Kate has a sparkly purple one w
hile the rest of us have these drab gray or black ones?” I teased.

  Lavender agreed, pouting and plotting how to decorate hers with flowers.

  Dash leaned into me. “I’ll scrounge whatever color you want.”

  No doubt the shifter meant what he said.

  “I can't believe that Mrs. K would disapprove of an idea like this,” exclaimed Ben.

  “I know, but that's only part of what makes her death weird. I want to get Charli's opinion,” Lily added. “What do you think about Mrs. K?”

  Clearly, I had arrived in the middle of an ongoing discussion. Whatever I said next, I needed to avoid letting them know that I had gone to her room at the retirement home.

  “Don't you think it's strange that she would be against the election?” asked Lavender. “I wasn't close enough to read her aura, but something seemed off.”

  “Has your grandmother told you anything?” Alison Kate pressed.

  “Nana has a lot on her plate right now. Between the dead body on the one hand and those who want the election on the other, she's caught in the middle trying to figure out what to do.” None of them needed to know that the leader of our town was struggling to keep things together. “But I'm sure that if she thinks the elections should continue that everything will work out as it should.”

  “Said like a true politician. All words and no answers,” Ben teased. “But what do you really think?”

  “She knows something. I just know it,” Blythe accused.

  “Fine,” I breathed out. “But this goes no further than these walls. Witch’s honor, y’all.” I pointed at my friends.

  “What about me?” Dash challenged. “I’m no witch.”

  “True, but you're a man of honor,” I said.

  He scoffed. “Or so I have you fooled.”

  “Then swear to me you won't share what I'm about to tell you in any manner you want.”

  “You mean something like, cross my heart and hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye?” He traced an X over his heart as he said the words.