Southern Hauntings Read online

  Southern Hauntings

  Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book Eleven

  Amy Boyles

  LADYBUGBOOKS LLC

  Contents

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  1. ONE

  2. TWO

  3. THREE

  4. FOUR

  5. FIVE

  6. SIX

  7. SEVEN

  8. EIGHT

  9. NINE

  10. TEN

  11. ELEVEN

  12. TWELVE

  13. THIRTEEN

  14. FOURTEEN

  15. FIFTEEN

  16. SIXTEEN

  17. SEVENTEEN

  18. EIGHTEEN

  19. NINETEEN

  20. TWENTY

  21. TWENTY-ONE

  22. TWENTY-TWO

  23. TWENTY-THREE

  24. TWENTY-FOUR

  25. TWENTY-FIVE

  26. TWENTY-SIX

  27. TWENTY-SEVEN

  Thank Y’all!

  Also by Amy Boyles

  About the Author

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  ONE

  “Why exactly did you drag me here?”

  I stared at a lawn sprinkled with knickknacks, figurines, cabinets, musical instruments and other various garage sale items.

  It looked like the house had gotten tired of all its belongings and decided that in order to start fresh, the best thing would be to vomit out its insides.

  “I thought you’d want to see something.”

  My grandmother, Betty Craple, had called me back from clear across the state in Haunted Hollow, Alabama, to come behold the magic of a witch yard sale.

  Not that I’d seen anything magical—unless you counted a fish-shaped, copper-colored mold that smelled strangely of vanilla. That seemed pretty magical.

  Betty tugged at her head of white curls. Her beady eyes sparked with mischief. “I call this magical.”

  She dipped a hand into her purse. The whole time her gaze darted around to make sure no one caught her sneaking something out.

  My cousin Amelia bounced up. She had a blonde pixie cut and a heart-shaped face with delicate features. She winked at me and said in a loud voice, “What’s that you’re hiding?”

  “Dagnabbit, Amelia,” Betty snapped. “I’m trying not to draw attention to myself.”

  Amelia plucked at her hair. “Oh, sorry.” She smiled at me. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  Betty’s fingers were curled around an object. They opened to reveal a small golden cat figurine.

  Betty smiled brightly. “See? Isn’t this wonderful?”

  I scratched my head. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I didn’t understand why this little hunk of metal was worth secreting away in her purse.

  My other cousin Cordelia drifted over, her arms full of yard sale treasures. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Betty nodded proudly. “It sure is.”

  Cordelia leaned in to trace her finger over the delicate ears. “Wow. I never thought I’d see one of those while I lived.”

  Amelia dipped her nose between Betty and I. “Oh wow. Y’all are right. Wow. I never thought I’d see one, either.” She elbowed our grandmother. “Where’d you find it?”

  Betty pointed to a table filled with curiosities. “Right over there.”

  Okay, the suspense was definitely killing me. “Would someone like to tell me what it is?”

  “If I’m not mistaken, that is a critterling. Some folks also call them critter carriers, but I believe critterling is the term we use in this part of the country.”

  The new voice came from behind us. I turned to find a man in his early thirties with sparkling blue eyes and a hint of mischief in his smile as he patiently studied us. His strawberry-blond hair was brushed off his forehead and clipped neatly over his ears. The young man wore khakis and a blue button-down that made him look more like a big box store employee than someone trolling a yard sale.

  “Howdy, y’all. I’m Charlie James Hix.” He splayed his fingers over his heart. “But you can call me CJ for short.”

  I extended my hand. “How do you do, CJ?”

  He took it like a gentleman and held it in his for a moment before gently releasing me. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “I’m Pepper Dunn, and this is my grandmother, Betty Craple, and my cousins, Amelia and Cordelia.”

  Everyone said hello, and CJ replied with “ma’am” and “nice to meet you.”

  I bit back a smile. CJ was nothing if not ridiculously charming in a boyish way. Dimples peeked out from his cheeks, and the spark in his eyes made him seem friendly. But the best thing about him was that CJ’s voice held a tone of goofy that I’d never heard rivaled.

  He watched with interest as I took the figurine gently from Betty. “What’s a critterling? That is how you said it, right?”

  “Right. Think of it as two words—critter, for animal, and ling…which isn’t really much of a word but more of an add-on.”

  He smiled. “Simply put, a critterling is a familiar holder. It’s a way to carry your familiar’s spirit if you’re traveling and can’t take your animal with you,” he explained. “They’re very rare, and I’m surprised I didn’t come across this little beauty earlier. I tell you, if I had, I would’ve bought it up.” He placed a hand beside his mouth as if about to reveal a deep secret. “Half of the Magnolia Cove Familiar Society would’ve been fighting over it like cats and dogs.”

  I frowned. “Magnolia Cove Familiar Society?”

  He fisted a hand to his hip and wagged a finger, playfully chastising me. “Now, Miss Dunn, don’t tell me you haven’t heard of us? Why, I thought every witch in these parts knew about our little club.”

  So, let me go back. In case y’all were wondering, my name’s Pepper Dunn and you guessed it, I’m a witch. Oh, and I live in a magical town called Magnolia Cove. Only witches live here, and generally only witches can find the place, except for a couple of days a year that are freakish anomalies.

  Okay, maybe they’re not freakish, but they are outliers and not exactly worth mentioning at the moment.

  I stared at the delicate gold feline. Eye sockets plugged with emeralds glinted in the sunshine. The figure was long and delicate, reminding me of an Egyptian cat more than something I’d find in Magnolia Cove.

  “A critterling,” I repeated.

  He smiled again. “That’s what it is. The owner of the house recently passed away.” CJ pointed to a name tag across his chest that read REALTOR. “I’m the Realtor on the estate. Mr. Albod was a distinguished wizard when it came to familiars. He never left home without one—unless he towed his critterling with him, that was.”

  CJ glanced whimsically into the distance. “I remember his little familiar Peaches. She was a wonderful feline. But alas, we can’t all live forever.”

  He snapped out of his reverie and shivered. “Golly gee! Just thinking about it gives me the willies. Anyway, what do you do here in town, Pepper Dunn?”

  It was my time to shine. Not that I wanted to shine and steal anyone’s limelight, but my profession was important to me. “I own the familiar store in town, Familiar Place.”

  CJ gasped. “Now how could I not have known that? Being a member of the familiar society and all. You would think I’d be much more informed on who owned the shop. But really, those of us in the familiar society don’t buy familiars; instead we work to strengthen the connections we have with
our current animals.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said honestly.

  CJ tapped the gold statue. “But this little guy was very loved. Mr. Albod wouldn’t have given it away for anything. After he passed, his family took what they wanted and decided to sell the rest.” CJ opened his arms and gestured to the covered lawn. “So we’re having this sale.”

  I stared at the figurine. “So your familiar’s power can transfer into this little nugget, and then you travel without the body?”

  He clapped his hands. “Now don’t ask me how it works because Mr. Albod was close with his secrets. But if I knew Mr. Albod”—he leaned over conspiratorially—“and I think I knew him fairly well, then that there critterling should still work beautifully. Granted that you know how to use.”

  Betty nudged me. “Well? You gonna get it?”

  I wrapped an arm around Betty. “Of course I want it. It’s beautiful. Thank you for finding it.”

  CJ clapped Betty on the shoulder. “I should congratulate you for finding this treasure. It was one of Mr. Albod’s favorites.” He rubbed his chin. “I wonder if I should take you with me around the rest of the sale, see what other important objects we can find.”

  Betty pulled her corncob pipe from a pocket and clamped it between her teeth. “No thanks. I’ve found one for today. That’s enough.”

  I pulled money from my purse and handed it to CJ.

  “Now where is someone with change when you need it?” He shook his head. “Let me find one of the cashiers.” He craned his neck to get a better look at the folks sprinkled about the lawn. “I swear, there’s just never the right person at the right time around here.” He smiled gently. “But no worries, I’ll get it fixed. I wanted to wear a fanny pack and hand out change, but the Albods wouldn’t let me. ‘No, no,’ the kids said, ‘just help folks.’”

  CJ spotted someone and pointed. “Oh! I found her. You just hold on to your hat, Miss Dunn. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

  Betty brushed her hands. “My work is done here. You got what you came for, Pepper.”

  I shook my head in confusion. “I didn’t come for this. You called me, remember?”

  “Same thing.” She flicked her head toward Amelia and Cordelia. “Come on, girls. I saw someone selling funnel cakes in the house. What d’you say we grab one?”

  Cordelia smirked. “Do they have calories?”

  Betty grinned liked the devil. “How about I promise they won’t?”

  Cordelia charged forward. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  Amelia nudged my shoulder. “You want one?”

  “No thanks. I’ll get my change and be right up.”

  As soon as they were gone, an old woman wearing a flowing tie-dyed dress approached. Tangled hair sat in a messy bun atop her head. I waited to see if a bird would pop out.

  I was wondering if I should keep a hand on my wallet when she pointed a gnarled finger at me.

  “Be careful, girl,” she whispered.

  I glanced over my shoulder, looking to see who this woman was speaking to.

  She reached her twisted fingers toward the critterling. “You must be careful.”

  I shrank back. “Oh. Okay.” I wasn’t an expert on dealing with crazy.

  Now that I thought about it, I was at a yard sale. This was as good a place as any to encounter crazy, wasn’t it? Maybe I should be more realistic.

  Or at least lower my standards when it came to the types of folks I expected to find hiding in a lawn sprinkled with knickknacks.

  Yes, the second option made a heck of a lot more sense.

  The woman’s dark eyes shifted right and left. “Be careful, girl. That cat holds strange power.”

  Okay, so crazy was definitely talking to me. Great. I peered around her looking for CJ, but he was embroiled in a conversation with a man wearing a mustache like Colonel Sanders.

  She reached another gnarled hand for the figurine. I dodged her grasp.

  “Okay, well. Thank you for the warning about it, but I’m just fine, okay? I know what it is. I know I can place a familiar’s power in it. Not that I know how,” I mumbled more to myself than her, “but I’ll figure it out. It’s not like I started working craft yesterday.”

  Yesterday wasn’t too far off the mark, actually. It had been many months since I discovered I was a witch and my powers were getting stronger, but there was still a world of knowledge to learn.

  The woman’s raspy voice snapped me back to attention. “I’m not talking about the familiar power it can hold, girl. I’m talking about it—the figure.”

  She poked her gnarled nose toward me. “Whoever owns that cat is cursed.”

  “Oh, well. A curse.” I grimaced. “That can’t be a good thing.”

  She raised her hands to the sky. “It isn’t.” Her voice deepened, taking on an ominous tone. Her eyes squinted, and her mouth twisted in a snarl. “Whoever owns that cat is cursed to die!”

  TWO

  “Die? Well, I mean, we’re all going to die. I know Mr. Albod owned the critterling and he died. Was he old? CJ didn’t mention if he was. But if so, maybe he didn’t die because of a curse, maybe it was just old age.”

  As if on cue, CJ strolled up. He shot the old hag a hard look. “Now, Willow Dean Gar, what are you doing here bothering this nice lady?”

  Willow Dean cringed. “I’m telling her the truth about that feline. Whoever owns it, dies.” She jabbed the air with her finger. “You might not want to say it, CJ, you and all your snooty familiar club friends.”

  CJ tsked. “That’s familiar society, Willow Dean, and if I’m not mistaken, you used to be a part of it. For years, as I recall.” He handed me my change and clapped his hands. “But that still doesn’t answer the question,” he scolded. “What are you doing bothering Miss Dunn?”

  “I saw she had the statue and wanted to save her.” Willow Dean lurched forward. She curled her fingers around my jacket and tugged me to her.

  “Oh,” I screeched.

  “You must give up the critterling.” Her breath smelled of fish and something earthy. I didn’t know what the earthy thing was, and I hoped Willow Dean hadn’t been chewing on dirt. But honestly she looked about half a hop, skip and jump away from it.

  “Give it up. Before it’s too late!”

  CJ pulled her off me. “Now, now, Willow Dean. Go off your meds again?” He nodded toward a couple of burly looking men. They strode over and hooked their arms under her armpits.

  “Willow,” CJ said cheerfully, “it’s best you be getting home, don’t you think?”

  She scratched the air. “No, I have to save her! She must know the truth!”

  The two men dragged her away, and CJ shot me a million-watt smile. He smoothed his ruffled hair and patted down his collar. “Now then. You’ve got the critterling. I hope you won’t be deterred by what Willow said.”

  He twirled a finger around his ear. “She’s a little nutty, that one.”

  I cocked a brow. “She used to belong to the familiar society?”

  “She sure did, ma’am. But then she became too volatile so we had to shoo her on her merry way.” CJ chuckled uneasily. “But we’d love to have you. You know”—he leaned over as if sharing a secret—“one of the members is bound to know how to work that familiar vessel.”

  I stared at the green-eyed golden figurine. “You think?”

  “Sure thing. Here. Let me get you one of our cards.” CJ felt around his pockets until he retrieved what he was looking for. “I knew I’d find it. Our next meeting’s at my house. We’d love to see you there.”

  I slid the card and figurine into my purse. “Thanks. I’ll try to make it.”

  CJ took my hands in his and smiled. “We’d love to have you, Miss Dunn. It would be our pleasure.”

  I rounded up my family, who were digging heartily into a funnel cake, and headed home.

  We arrived to find a box on the front porch. Red ribbon wound around the edges, and a silky crimson bow graced
the top.

  Betty nudged it with her toe. “What’s that?”

  “A firecracker,” Cordelia said sarcastically. “What’s it look like?”

  “A present,” Betty said, unimpressed.

  “Here I thought it was a firecracker.” Amelia bent and picked it up. “There’s a tag on it.” She flipped it and read. “‘To Ms. Betty Craple from—your secret admirer.’”

  “What?” Betty snatched the box from Amelia’s hands. “Give that to me.”

  I leaned over and whispered in my cousin’s ear. “Is that really what it said?”

  Amelia shot Betty a look filled with mischief. “It sure did. Betty’s got a secret admirer.”

  “Hush,” Betty said, “or I’ll show you a secret admirer.”

  Amelia clapped with glee. “I wish you would. I would love to see my secret admirer. As long as he has all his hair, that is.”

  “What if he had hair but in all the wrong places?” Cordelia mused.

  “No, thank you.” Amelia nudged Betty with her elbow. “Come on. What is it? What’s inside?”

  Betty sniffed the box from one end to the other. She tapped it on each side and listened. “How do I know it isn’t booby-trapped?”

  “Don’t stick your boob in it and it won’t be,” Cordelia said dryly.

  Betty stared at the box as if it were a poisonous snake. “I don’t know.”

  “Good grief, give the thing to me.” Cordelia snatched the present from Betty and headed inside. “I want to know what this is. Betty, if you’re not going to open it, I will.”