Southern Spells (Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  “You’re a little chicken, aren’t you?” Melbalean cooed in its ear.

  “Hand her over,” Betty said.

  “Well, of course, I’ll hand over this ten dollar silver-egg-laying chicken,” Melbalean said.

  Betty’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “What did you say?”

  Melbalean pursed her lips. “I said, I will gladly give you the hen you paid nine dollars and ninety-nine cents for. You know, the one that lays silver eggs.”

  “Sorcery,” Betty whispered.

  Melbalean rolled her eyes. “If you’d paid five more dollars, you could’ve bought the golden-egg-laying chicken like I did. But you didn’t because you’re too cheap.”

  Melbalean dropped Betty’s hen onto her booth’s counter and picked up a cage. In it strutted a hen with silvery feathers.

  “Lays golden eggs,” Melbalean said.

  I flared out my arms. “Wait. So okay.” I pointed to Betty. “You bought a ten dollar chicken that lays silver eggs and you,” I directed toward Melbalean, “purchased one that lays golden eggs.”

  “That’s right,” Melbalean said.

  I smacked my lips. “It sounds to me as if both of you were taken for a ride. Who the heck would sell chickens that lay precious metals?”

  Both women blinked at me as if I was stupid-is-as-stupid-does. Eventually, Betty turned to Melbalean. “My chicken’s going to lay more eggs than yours, so watch out, old lady.”

  Wow. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Betty was so old she might as well be aging in reverse instead of forward.

  Does that make sense?

  It does to me. That’s all that matters, I suppose.

  Melbalean shooed Betty’s hen off her booth. “You better hurry up and catch that bird. Judging starts tonight and it looks like your hen’s going to need time to acclimate. You know, so she can lay an egg.”

  Melbalean’s hen let out a cry. “Oh, what do we have here?”

  She unhinged the cage and stuck her hand beneath the hen. “Well, I don’t believe it—could it be?” She pulled out her hand and opened her fingers. A small shiny golden egg lay in the center of her palm. “Why, it sure is. A golden egg! You better get a move on, Betty, if you’re going to win this year. You’ll need a whole mountain of silver eggs to beat my gold.”

  Betty pulled her pipe from her mouth and spat on the floor. “It’s probably wrapped in yellow foil.” She took my arm. “Come on, Pepper. Let’s get my new hen home and get her laying some eggs.”

  We walked back. Betty huffed with every step. “I should’ve known that old battle-ax would try to outdo me,” she snarled. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us when we get to the house.”

  “We?” I said. “I’ve got a shop to open in a few hours.”

  Betty smiled brightly. “Great idea. We’ll take the chicken to Familiar Place. See if being around the other animals helps warm her up to us. Maybe they can teach you how to talk to her.”

  A knot of unease twisted my belly. “Wait. No. I’m not getting involved in this.”

  Betty batted her eyelashes at me. “But we’re family.”

  My heart tightened. Betty, my cousins and my aunts were all the family I had in the world. The best way to manipulate me was to remind me of that fact and guilt me about it, which clearly wasn’t that hard since all Betty had to do was mention the word “family” and unease automatically flooded my body.

  I sighed. “Okay. You can bring the hen to the shop. But with this festival starting today, I’m guessing we’ll be getting in a lot of out-of-towners, and that means I’ll be busy.”

  “Great,” Betty said, “I’ll jump in the shower with the hen and I’ll see you at the store.”

  Wait. What?

  “You always run around town in your robe?”

  The voice came from the side. I hadn’t heard it in a good solid week, and my heart thundered because of it.

  I slanted my head and caught a pair of blue eyes peeking out from under long, dark lashes. A handsome face with a straight nose, an easy smile that revealed a dimple in the right cheek, and a bit of scruff along the jaw all belonged to Axel Reign, Magnolia Cove’s one and only private detective.

  His shoulder length hair was pulled back, making him look kind of like a mix between a superhero and, well, a superhero.

  We stopped. Axel nodded at Betty. “Miss Craple.”

  She wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you Miss Craple me. Your intentions with my granddaughter better be pure.”

  A hint of red flushed his cheeks. “Ah, well. Good to see you, too.”

  She snorted. “You bet your bottom dollar it’s good to see me. Seeing me means we’re all still here alive on earth.”

  “That’s not what that means,” I said. “It means you’re still alive on earth.”

  Betty shrugged. “You’d be surprised.” She glanced toward the festival. “I don’t have all day to dilly-dally. I’ve got to get on this chicken and coax her into sitting a mountain of eggs. I’ll see you two later.”

  I waved. “Okay.”

  She shot Axel a scathing look. “And no kissing. I’ll know.”

  I cinched my robe tighter and glanced away, hoping that I didn’t die of embarrassment. After she left, I checked on Axel, who stood studying me.

  “Haven’t seen you around in a while,” he said.

  “I’ve been busy. You know, with the whole owning a pet shop thing. What about you?”

  He grazed a thumb along his jaw. Like, how did he manage to make the simplest thing look so sexy?

  “I’ve been keeping busy. Had a job out of town that’s kept me away. Ran into your friend Rufus.”

  I cleared my throat. “Not my friend.”

  And he wasn’t. The mysterious Rufus had first appeared in my life several weeks ago before I ever arrived in Magnolia Cove. He’d demanded that I come with him or die. Let me tell you, I would’ve been toast if it hadn’t been for Mattie the Cat. She saved my butt and guided me to my new home.

  Of course, if that had been the end of it, the whole Rufus thing wouldn’t have been much of a story. Problem is, one night I tried to sneak out of Magnolia Cove and Rufus was waiting. If it hadn’t been for Axel, I probably would’ve been burned toast.

  So I owed Axel. Big time.

  Axel nodded. “I know. Rufus was being investigated for turning a person into a toad and refusing to turn him back.”

  I grimaced. “That’s horrible.”

  Did I forget to mention that according to Axel, Rufus had a penchant for playing Dr. Frankenstein?

  “I found the guy, saved him, but he had no memory of who’d turned him into a frog.”

  A cool wind blew my hair in my eyes. I raked it from my face. “So once again, the mysterious Rufus gets away with committing acts of evil.”

  “Yep.”

  Another strand of hair flicked onto my lips. Axel brushed it away before I had a chance to. The air stilled as an electric jolt snaked along my skin. I swallowed.

  Axel retreated a step. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

  Right. There was a galaxy of tension between the two of us, but we couldn’t act on it.

  I guess we couldn’t. I was dumped a few weeks ago by my boyfriend, and Axel said he had stuff going on—which I took to mean there was another woman.

  Before the tension grew weirder, I decided to break away. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Listen, you been staying out of trouble?”

  I scoffed. “Of course. I’ve been learning about my shop. Trying to work on my witch powers. All that good stuff.”

  His blue gaze leveled at me. “Want to have dinner tonight?”

  I did a double take. “Um. What about all that stuff we’ve said?”

  Axel nodded. “It won’t mean anything. It’s just dinner. It’s not like I’m going to dress up. I might not even take a shower before.”

  I laughed. “Okay. Well, in that case, I’ll probably wear this
bathrobe. Is that okay with you?”

  He smiled. “Works for me.”

  A chicken clucked in the background and I turned to look. Melbalean was pulling another egg from under the hen.

  “Ugh. I’d better get home. Betty is determined to beat that woman.”

  Axel stared at Melbalean for a moment. “So I see you’ve met her already.”

  I quirked a brow. “Who, Melbalean? Yeah. Betty’s all ticked off at her. I’ve already had to separate those two. Make sure they didn’t kill each other. Why?”

  Axel’s gaze darkened. “Because Melbalean Mayes is Rufus’s mother.”

  Well holy sack of shrimp and grits. That was a bombshell I didn’t expect.

  THREE

  “You’ve got to win this contest,” I said.

  I stood in the center of my pet store. I’d showered, dressed and was having a pow-wow with Betty. It was about thirty minutes to opening.

  She tugged on the waistband of her pants, pulling them up to below her boobs. “So you’ve seen things my way.”

  I tapped the edge of my third cup of coffee. “Melbalean is Rufus’s mother?”

  Betty nodded. “Yep. She had him in her forties. Rufus was an accident. Melbalean always coddled that boy. She’s kept him from being arrested about a thousand times, even though he’s obviously trouble on a stick.”

  I smirked. “All I know is that he has attacked me twice, so I’m not a fan.” I flashed her a bright smile. “Which means I’ll gladly help you.”

  Betty pulled the chicken from the box and put her on the counter. The animals in the pet shop saw the new arrival and immediately started chirping.

  “Who’s that?” meowed one of the kittens.

  “It looks like a chicken,” cried one of the puppies.

  “It’s a hen,” cawed a parrot.

  “I bet it tastes like chicken,” said a kitten. “That’s my favorite thing to eat.”

  I patted the air. “First of all, y’all eat pet food. You’ve never eaten chicken. Secondly, will y’all please be quiet? We’re trying to work, here.”

  The animals settled and I glanced from the chicken, who was pecking and strutting, to Betty. I gave her a questioning look. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”

  Betty gestured toward the hen. “Get her comfortable enough to lay eggs. Lots of eggs.”

  I grimaced. “I’m not sure I can, but I’ll try.”

  “You’re the animal whisperer. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

  I rolled my eyes. My family’s faith in my abilities far outweighed my own trust. But hey, I was willing to try. If nothing else, it would hopefully give Betty a glimmer of a chance of beating Melbalean.

  I’ll be honest, being new to the whole witch thing, I didn’t really know how to talk to animals. The truth was, their voices just popped into my head. Yes, I know I’m not crazy because…well, I don’t really know, but I trust that it’s animals I hear.

  Anyway, before I started contemplating the rabbit hole of my sanity, I shifted my focus to Chicken Little.

  I focused on her and listened.

  Zilch. Nada. Nothing.

  Not one thought. Since focusing on her didn’t seem to work, I pushed my thoughts out and encouraged the hen to lay beautiful silver eggs.

  She clucked and fluttered her wings. Then she settled on the floor.

  CLUUUUUUUKAAAAA!

  I shot Betty a terrified look. My grandmother jumped in the air—silver curls and all. Betty did a little dance that incorporated pointing invisible guns toward the sky and firing them. “You did it, kid. Got her to lay. Now, let’s see what’s underneath.”

  Betty reached down. The hen shifted for her and Betty revealed a silvery egg. “Ha! Here it is. Now, all I need is a mountain of them and I’ll have that old witch beat.”

  “Can I see it?” I said.

  She handed it to me. The egg was light. Really light. Like it was pumped with air. I tapped it on the counter and said, “I don’t think this is silver. I think it’s aluminum.”

  Betty’s eyebrows shot to peaks. “What?”

  “I’m no expert, but it’s too light to be silver. I mean, Betty, you bought the bird for ten dollars. Did you really think it would lay silver eggs?”

  Betty snatched it from me. She sniffed the egg, scratched at it and finally declared, “Well if this is aluminum, what’s Melbalean got?”

  I shrugged. “Can’t be real gold.”

  Betty rubbed her chin. “Must be fool’s gold. Ha! I’ll still beat her because my eggs are an actual metal that’s worth something. She’s got a worthless fifteen dollar hen!”

  “The hen might be hungry after laying an egg. I imagine that takes a lot of energy,” I said.

  Betty raised a bag. “Her food is right here. Came with her.”

  I found a bowl and filled it with feed. The hen pecked at it hungrily, jutting out her neck and clucking.

  Betty mumbled on about the egg. “My ace in the hole.” My grandmother displayed the egg for the chicken. “You did good, girl. Now I need you to lay more.”

  The hen clucked and fixed its beady eyes on the egg. In half a second, the bird had fluttered up and was trying to hook its talons into Betty’s arm. It squawked and screeched as a whirlwind of feathers kicked up in the shop.

  “It’s attacking,” cried one of the kittens. “Kill it and eat it!”

  I ducked as the bird flogged Betty.

  My grandmother kept a straight face as she reached out her hand and yanked the hen by the neck. The bird continued flapping, almost manic in its attack.

  “What happened?” I said.

  Betty thrust the hen out, far enough away that it couldn’t hurt her. “I don’t think she liked me taking her egg.”

  “Or pressuring her,” I offered.

  “Or that. See if you can calm her.”

  I bit down my instinct to argue and concentrated on serene thoughts. The bird continued flapping and kicking.

  “It’s not working,” I said.

  “Help me get her in the box.”

  “You really need a cage.”

  “Everybody’s an expert. I’ll get one later.”

  I grabbed the box and held it open while Betty dropped the hen inside. I closed the flaps, but the bird continued to scuffle against the cardboard.

  “Wow. She’s not quieting down, is she?”

  Betty grabbed the box, which jerked almost from her hands. “I’m taking this home. I’ll whip up some feed with something calming in it and give it to her. Hopefully, she’ll be ready for the festival tonight.”

  I opened the door for her. “Good luck. I’ll see you there.”

  Betty pinpointed a sharp glare at me. “Stores close at three during the Cotton and Cobwebs Festival.”

  “They do?”

  Betty nodded. “Sure do. So that owners can enjoy the festivities.”

  I nodded back. “Okay, great.”

  As she was leaving, my aunts Licky and Mint strolled in. Betty pointed a finger at them. “And don’t let these two talk you into doing anything stupid.”

  “Good to see you too, Mama,” Mint said, flicking her loose red curls over one shoulder.

  “Bah! Because of you I almost lost my chicken.”

  Licky blew her a kiss. “We would’ve helped you find her.”

  Betty opened her mouth to say something, but then shut it and left.

  Mint smiled at me. It was a wide, friendly smile. My aunts looked a lot alike, but Mint had a long, angular face and Licky, who had the silky straight hair, had more of a round face with the chin dimple.

  Mint wrapped me up in a hug. “Hugging you is like hugging your mom. Anyone ever told you that?”

  A swell of pride rushed inside me. “No. Not ever, and I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  My mother, Sassafras, had died in childbirth, and after her death, my father had elected not to tell me about my witch heritage. He died a couple of years ago from cancer. I missed him, and luckily my new family hel
ped fill that void.

  Licky gave me another hug. “We’re so glad to have this time to get to know you. We’ve missed you your whole life.”

  I laughed. “I guess I missed y’all too, even though I never knew you.”

  Mint grabbed my hand. “You know we’re running the festival this year.”

  “A lot of responsibility,” Licky added.

  “It barely gives us time to do anything while the festival is going on,” Mint said.

  “We’ll be so busy,” Licky said.

  “There’s so much to see and do,” Mint said.

  I nodded, trying to piece together the whirlwind of their conversation. “I’m sure. I can’t wait to experience it.”

  Fact was, Axel had texted that after dinner he’d escort me around the festival, which I was pretty excited about.

  But of course, I wanted to play it cool. Even though we were spending time at the fair, it didn’t mean anything.

  Right. I’ll keep telling myself that.

  “Anyway,” Mint said, her gaze bobbing around the shop, “there’s a lot of stuff we can’t do.”

  “Because we’ll be so busy,” Licky said.

  “Sure, I understand.”

  “We could use an assistant,” Mint said.

  “But we don’t have time to find anyone,” Licky finished.

  “So we’re stuck,” Mint said.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “There’s this one booth that’s always sold out in about five minutes,” Mint said.

  “Every night,” Licky said.

  “It never fails,” Mint added.

  “What is it?” I said.

  Mint leaned forward conspiratorially. “Well, since you asked, we have to tell you. Old Leona Doodle is a food witch. Has a restaurant in a cave down in Hollyhock Hollow. She comes up for the festival every year and brings her kitchen along.”

  “Food is to die for,” Licky said.

  “But you see we’ll be so busy with festivities we won’t be able to get any,” Mint said. “And it’s that way every night she’s there.”

  “And she makes the best baked macaroni and cheese you’ve ever tasted,” Licky said.

  “But it’s always gone in about five minutes.”

  “She sells out completely.”