Southern Hauntings Read online

  Someone repaired the bulbs, and the lights flared to life. Willow Dean stood in front of me, her arthritic finger nearly jammed up my nose. “What did I say? Death!”

  CJ clapped his hands. “Okay, Willow Dean, I think we’ve had enough entertainment. We don’t need you making things worse.”

  But Willow Dean wasn’t finished. She curled her fingers into my hair and jerked me down so that I got an up-close-and-personal whiff of her stale breath.

  “Ow,” I howled.

  “Death! I tell you, death!”

  CJ and Jerome each hooked a hand under Willow Dean. She released me to fight them. She jerked and bit, struggling against the two men. “I’m trying to help,” she yelled. “I’m here to warn you!”

  “Yeah, yeah, Willow Dean,” CJ said through labored breathing. Seriously. Willow Dean fought like a professional. I was surprised she hadn’t bit a chunk out of either man’s arm.

  The two men managed to haul her from the house. Even from outside, Willow Dean still continued to scream about my death.

  The room took a collective breath once she was gone. I sank into a chair and then remembered the thing that had shot from the cat statue.

  I plucked the critterling from the floor and murmured, “What in the world was that?”

  But no one had an answer. Everyone sat as dumbfounded as me.

  Finally, when Jerome and CJ reentered, CJ chuckled nervously and clapped his hands. “Well, that was quite the treat. Does anyone happen to know what shot through my house?” He wagged a finger at the group. “And don’t any of y’all try to tell me it was Willow Dean on a spiritual rampage.”

  Jerome’s baritone cut through the silence. “I know what it was.”

  “What was it?” I said.

  “That”—he pointed to the repaired bulbs—“was Mr. Albod’s familiar.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean? Like it’s astral projection? The energy of it?”

  Jerome shook his head. “It was the cat’s ghost.”

  I shot him a confused look. “The cat’s ghost? Why would a ghost be in a familiar holder?”

  Jerome rubbed a hand down his face. “Unless I’m mistaken, Mr. Albod put him there, and now you’re the new owner. You, Pepper Dunn, are now the proud steward of a ghost-cat familiar.”

  I rocked back on my heels. Oh boy, wait till I told Betty this. It was too crazy to believe.

  FOUR

  The meeting finished up on a quieter note than it had started. The attendees offered lots of great advice about the critterling, though they seemed not to know what to do with a ghost-cat familiar.

  The cat had also disappeared. Once it blew out the lights and zipped through the room, no one had seen hide nor hair of it.

  Hmm. Maybe that was for the best. After all, what exactly was I going to do with a ghost cat?

  I pondered this while Amelia and I mingled in the living room.

  CJ took my hands. “Thank you so much for coming, Miss Dunn; you were certainly the highlight of our evening.”

  I smiled gratefully. “You’re welcome. It was a good time.”

  His eyes sparked. “Maybe you would consider attending again? Perhaps joining?”

  If every meeting involved Willow Dean Gar, no thank you. “Er, um. Maybe.”

  I also didn’t want to admit it to CJ, but hanging out discussing familiars with folks wasn’t my idea of a good time. It was for some, and that was fine, but I’d rather relax by reading a book or trying to pretend to Betty that I was working on mastering my magic.

  Trying was the operative word. It had been a point of contention between us lately. Betty wanted me to focus more on my magic; I was busy with the familiar store. I mean, why did I have to formally learn it anyway? Whenever I needed my magic the most, it was there, burning inside me, ready to come out.

  CJ’s smile tightened. I think he could tell what I was thinking. “Well, that’s just fine, Miss Dunn. You let us know what you want to do. We’ll be here.”

  I gathered Amelia and was about to leave when Della called out.

  “I’ve got one more banana pudding cup left if anyone wants it.”

  Amelia grabbed my arm. “Go on outside. I’m going to take that cup to go. I’ll find you in a minute.”

  She’d already snarfed down three cups. “Aren’t you full?”

  Amelia was walking toward Della. She called out over her shoulder. “Never full for banana pudding. See you in a sec.”

  I slid on my jacket and headed out. The evening had turned warmer than usual for this time of year, but a crisp wind rattled through the trees, reminding me that winter wasn’t yet ready to release her hold.

  CJ’s house still buzzed with conversation. I walked a ways down the sidewalk. Moonlight lit the yard.

  “Come on, Amelia. I don’t want Willow Dean Gar to jump out and attack me.”

  I chuckled to myself, but I had a feeling that I wasn’t far off the mark. I noticed a large azalea bush and thought about the trees I’d seen in the older part of the Cobweb Forest.

  I wondered if the azalea bush would show me an image like the old oak had.

  I placed my palm against the branches. They shifted down. Something heavy fell from the bush and landed on me.

  I screamed.

  The front door opened. A flood of folks rushed out onto the sidewalk. Amelia, a cup of banana pudding in her hand, reached me first.

  “Oh no, Pepper!” She threw the cup to the ground and screamed.

  “What is it?” I said. “Get it off me.”

  When Amelia pushed, it felt like a log was being rolled off me. I staggered to my feet and glanced down.

  On the grass, her sightless eyes staring at the constellated sky, lay Willow Dean Gar. A gash slashed across her throat.

  Amelia’s hands flew to her face. “Oh no. She’s been murdered.”

  I glanced into the familiar society. “Somebody call the police. We’ve got a dead body.”

  FIVE

  “Someone killed Willow Dean Gar outside the house and then stashed her body.”

  Garrick Young stood in the grass not far from where Willow Dean had fallen from the bushes and landed on me.

  His gaze cut from the grass to me. “When was the last time you saw her alive?”

  “Right after she announced I was going to die. CJ and Jerome escorted her outside. She yelled for a few more minutes, but then I didn’t hear anything.”

  Garrick shifted his weight. “Her body was still warm.”

  “So you think she stood outside awhile before someone murdered her?”

  He scowled. “I’m not sharing my thoughts with you.”

  Axel came up and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. “But we would share our ideas with you, Garrick. What’s the fun in keeping secrets?”

  Garrick sniggered, then focused his attention back on me. “You said you ran into her a couple of times?”

  I cinched the blanket tightly at my throat. “Yes. Both times she warned me about the critterling. Kept saying the whole death thing.” I clicked my tongue. “Looks like I’m not the one it brought death to.”

  Garrick scowled. I felt like a jerk for saying that, so I quickly added, “All I’m saying is, I wasn’t the one killed. Of course now there’s this ghost-cat running around that’s supposedly mine. Not that a ghost-cat could kill anyone, especially slash their throat. I don’t think that’s possible. All I’m saying is that I’m alive and well and Willow Dean is the one who’s dead.”

  I exhaled a deep breath.

  Axel squeezed my shoulder. “You got it all out?”

  I nodded. “Yep. I feel better.”

  Garrick rubbed his jaw. “I can guarantee it wasn’t a ghost that did this. Guys, I need someone to search the cutlery in the house.”

  An officer approached. “We’re on it. But Sheriff, you might want to take a look at this.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We found it on the body.”

  The officer handed Garrick an envelope
and strode toward the house to search for a missing knife.

  Garrick tapped the letter. He lifted his gaze and studied me. “This is for you.”

  I tipped forward so far I nearly lost my balance. “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s addressed to you.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  Garrick scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “That’s something I’d like to know.”

  I opened my palm. “Since it’s to me, I should read it.”

  “This is evidence.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Garrick scowled. “How about finding it in the pocket of the victim makes it of interest to me?”

  I shrugged. “That, I’ll buy. But I still want to know what it says. I mean, Willow Dean raved about how I was going to die. The cat figurine would bring me death. Don’t you think I should at least see it?”

  Axel folded his arms. “At least as a favor to Pepper.”

  Garrick’s scowled deepened. “Fine. You get one look. Better commit it to memory.”

  He snapped his fingers, and gloves covered his hands. With a flick of his wrist, a letter opener appeared between two fingers. Garrick expertly slid the blade under the lip and cut an incision.

  He pinched the paper and snapped it open. “Here you go. But no touching.”

  I leaned in close.

  * * *

  Pepper Dunn,

  I know I may seem crazy, and truth be told, there are only a few moments of the day when I am lucid. I am burdened with knowledge, and my mind slips between here and somewhere else. When it’s in the somewhere else, I often am overcome with emotion.

  This emotion is what took control when I saw you with the cat critterling. I know I must have sounded like a raving lunatic when I said it would bring you death. I apologize. It’s part of the sickness that overtakes me.

  Though my words were filled with anger, what I said isn’t untrue. The familiar holder you own was Mr. Albod’s pride and treasure.

  Familiar holders are knickknacks that few own. They are expensive, and only very few are alive who know how to make them.

  That’s why Mr. Albod’s treasure is truly priceless. Many will seek it. They will want it. I’m sorry to tell you that they will do anything to obtain it.

  You see I’m lucid, though I feel the binds of my sickness beginning to take hold. I feel the chains as they tighten around my brain, so I must finish.

  The critterling brings death because it is so highly sought after. There are many who want it, and now, all of Magnolia Cove will know you own it.

  It is one of its kind. I wish you the best in keeping yourself safe because you will need it.

  For it is not only the spell on the object that makes it desirable, it is the rarity of it as well.

  Long before you ever took hold of the critterling, there were some who whispered that they would kill to have their hands on it. Kill. You’ve read correctly. Many of them fill the membership roster of the familiar society.

  What they want is now in your ownership, which means you are on their kill list.

  Yes, you. Pepper Dunn, you are in grave danger. I only hope you read my words and believe them as the writings of a woman retaining the last grips of sanity.

  If you do nothing else, do this—remain safe. Get rid of the critterling as soon as you can. Though I hope it doesn’t come to it, I fear that object will be the death of you.

  Literally.

  Thinking of you,

  Willow Dean Gar

  * * *

  My knees wobbled as I rocked back on my heels. “That was intense.”

  Axel nodded. “No doubt about that.”

  My gaze cut to Garrick, who was neatly folding the letter and tucking it back into the envelope. “Do you think Willow Dean was killed because of that letter?”

  “If that had been the case, the murderer would’ve taken it.”

  I shook my head in irritation. “That’s not what I mean. What I’m asking is, do you think she was murdered because she was trying to warn me? She kept saying the thing would bring me death and now she’s dead and saying that”—tears sprang to my eyes—“she’s saying I’m next. That whoever killed her is now going to be looking at me.”

  Axel’s arms wrapped around me. He pulled me around to face him. “I will never let that happen. There’s no way I will allow anyone to hurt you.”

  I raked my fingers through my hair. Frustration pricked down my spine, deep-frying my nerve endings to a crisp, y’all. “I know that, Axel. But she’s saying it’s because I own the critterling. Maybe I should give it away.”

  I punched a hand into my pocket. My fingers brushed against the delicate tips of the feline’s ears. I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying to put it all together.

  A woman I’d initially wrote off as clinically insane was now dead. She’d penned a compassionate letter revealing that she worried for my safety.

  Willow Dean had been sick, for goodness’ sake. Maybe she had a form of dementia or Alzheimer’s.

  Now I wanted to give away the object that had caused her murder.

  What was wrong with me?

  This wasn’t the Pepper Dunn I knew. The Pepper Dunn who lived in Magnolia Cove faced her fears. She bit into any challenge, chewed it up and spit it out.

  If not for anything else but the sake of Willow Dean’s memory, I owed it to her to keep the feline. If it would help catch a murderer, than I needed to.

  But I would be putting myself in the line of fire.

  I’d honor the memory of this woman who’d tried to warn me about danger and gotten killed in the process.

  But to do that I needed one thing.

  “Pepper.” Axel shook me gently. “Pepper, are you okay?”

  I shuddered, which whipped me back to attention. “I’m fine. Garrick, thank you for allowing me to see that letter.”

  “You’re welcome. I’d like to see the critterling in question.”

  I showed him the familiar holder.

  “Thank you. You can keep it.”

  “Sheriff Young!” A police officer ran from the house down the path.

  “Yes, Officer South. What is it?”

  The officer stopped inches from Garrick. “Sir, one of the blades from the homeowner’s butcher block is missing.”

  Garrick twirled his finger. “Spread out and search for our weapon. Hit any and all bushes, trash cans, whatever you can think of.”

  Officer South ran off, and the other officers scattered.

  Garrick tipped his head to us. “Thank y’all for your time. Be careful getting home.”

  Axel squeezed my shoulder. His presence made me feel safe—always.

  “You’re thinking something.” His dark gaze prodded me. “What is it?”

  “It was brave of Willow Dean to write that to me.”

  He rubbed his face and exhaled a huge shot of air. “Oh no.”

  “What?”

  “You’re thinking of doing something, aren’t you?”

  “Axel, she tried to save me.”

  He pointed to the familiar holder I still clutched. A vein in his temple pulsed. “And she said you should get rid of that—first thing.”

  “Which is why I can’t.”

  He shook his head. “For once can’t you just say, sure, I’ll get rid of a thing that could mean my death?”

  My jaw dropped. “She died, Axel. You of all people should understand that.”

  “I understand your safety,” he growled. His blue eyes darkened to the color of a turbulent sea, and his words ejected from his mouth with bite. “You are the most important thing in my life. I don’t like you taking foolish risks.”

  “Someone died,” I nearly screamed.

  “Better her than you,” he snapped.

  The wind whipped up between us, charging the air. That was the electricity between us. Our natural magic intertwined. The atmosphere buzzed. Our passion, especially when we were angry, became a web of magic, tugging us together even as I tried to pull
myself away from him.

  Axel was dark, brooding, and every inch of me yearned for him. Our desire went beyond skin-deep. He filled my soul to the brim, and I burned for Axel in a way I had never burned for anyone else. His touch was fire.

  My hair slapped against my cheek, stinging my flesh. Axel’s fingers twitched like he wanted to brush the hair away.

  I stepped back. “This demanding streak of yours is getting pretty strong. We haven’t even mated yet.”

  His expression fell. “You would bring that up at this of all times?”

  “But it is, isn’t it?” I pressed.

  Here’s the thing—Axel had recently revealed that if we continued our relationship, he would mate to me for life.

  Life, y’all.

  I’d finally come to accept that. But I also knew that Axel would become more possessive.

  His instincts about protecting me would sharpen. I was a twenty-first-century woman. I wasn’t sure about all this mating stuff, but I loved him and accepted everything about him.

  Axel’s face contorted in pain. “I would protect you no matter what, especially when it comes to decisions you make that I deem less than intelligent.”

  I gestured toward the house. “I think it’s worthy. Willow Dean Gar died all alone in a horrible way. I want to help her.”

  Axel gazed up at the sky, his jaw tight, his eyes pleading with the heavens for help in dealing with me.

  A smile curled my lips. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  Still staring at the constellated sky, he said, “It’s foolish.”

  “But will you help me?”

  “I swear”—he pointed an accusing finger at me—“the very first whiff I get that you’re in jeopardy, you’re getting rid of the statue.”

  I held a hand to my heart. “I promise.”

  “You follow my lead on this. No doing anything risky.”

  I smirked. “Since when do I—”

  “Promise me,” he snapped.

  “Promise,” I whimpered.

  The air between us settled, and the wind died down to a soft breeze.

  “So. Is this decided?”

  Axel nodded. “But I want you to be extra careful.” He scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “There’s something funny about that group of people.”