Southern Omens (Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book 17) Page 7

  “Cord, he’s only doing his job,” I replied, keeping my voice soothing. “It’s not his fault.”

  She scoffed. “I get all of that. I really do. But, I mean, don’t you think this causes tension between us?”

  I hadn’t ever thought about it. “I’m sure it does.”

  “What does he think? I’ll happily be his girlfriend or maybe someday his wife and just watch without a word as he brings my family into the jail and questions them every time there’s a murder?”

  “We’ve never been guilty of anything.”

  “But that doesn’t matter,” she said, agony crushing her voice. “How do you think he would like it if I was the one dragging his family in?”

  Rarely had I ever seen Cordelia get so worked up, but she was in deep now.

  “It’s part of his job; you know that,” I reminded her gently, not trying to sound like I was taking his side. Goodness knew, I did not want my cousin to think that I was taking any sort of sides in this.

  Cordelia shrugged her shoulders as if she was exhausted. “I know. It’s just tiring. I mean, how am I supposed to maybe eventually sleep next to him when he’s always arresting my family? It’s stressful, Pepper. Like, terribly stressful.”

  I wrapped her in a hug. My cousin embraced me stiffly. “You and I both know that Garrick is trying to find any evidence that he can to get Amelia out of there. He doesn’t want to keep her.”

  Her rigid spine softened, and she sagged against me. “Then why does it feel like I’m always on the defense about us? Like we have to prove over and over that we’re not bad people?”

  I didn’t have an answer for her. From Cordelia’s perspective, I got it. I understood completely why she would feel that way, and I was thankful that Axel and I weren’t in the same position. If Axel kept arresting my family, there was no doubt that tensions would climb. It would be a natural consequence of the situation.

  Since I didn’t have direct experience with this, what could I give my cousin other than platitudes? Garrick might not think that Amelia or any of us were ever guilty of wrongdoing, but that wasn’t going to stop him from doing his job.

  And in the end, if one of us was guilty of a crime, Garrick wouldn’t sweep it under the rug, nor should he. He would make sure that justice was served.

  No matter what.

  I slipped out of the hug and studied my cousin. Dark circles sat like half-moons under her eyes, and her skin didn’t have its usual luster.

  This situation had hit Cordelia hard.

  I offered a warm smile. “Look, I don’t know what the answer is, but I do know that you and Garrick love each other. I’m sure he’s as bothered by this as you are. He doesn’t want to arrest anyone in our family—end of story. It’s probably as stressful on him as it is on you. Don’t you think?”

  She sniffed and ran her sleeve under her nose. “I guess. I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “I’m sure it is. Why don’t you talk to him about it? First chance you get. See what he has to say. I mean, if it bothers you a lot, you could always end the relationship. But Cordelia, you’re happy with him. You and I both know that. You’d be miserable without him.”

  “I know.” She brought her face to her hands and exhaled. “I would be completely miserable.” Suddenly she glanced at her watch and gasped. “Oh no, I’m supposed to be at Southern Wishes right now. It’s my shift.”

  Southern Wishes was Magnolia Cove’s official wish shop. Cordelia and Amelia, both being one-quarter genie, could grant wishes on a limited basis. They rarely used their power because it had a tendency to go wonky, but Cordelia worked at the shop.

  She grabbed my hand. “Can you come with me?”

  I hesitated. The animals at the familiar shop needed me, too.

  My cousin sensed my hesitation. “I won’t keep you long, but you might be able to help. There’s something that we’re searching for, and I can’t seem to find one.”

  Curious, I quirked a brow. “What’s that?”

  Cordelia released a slow smile as if she’d already brushed aside her worry from earlier. “Well, we’re looking for something quite rare.”

  “And that would be?”

  “A fairy godmother.”

  No need to hesitate here. “Count me in. I’ll help however I can.”

  CHAPTER 11

  L ike, who does not want to meet a fairy godmother? I know that I do. Okay, so in a sense Betty had been my fairy godmother, as she was one of the first people that I met in Magnolia Cove.

  Or was Mattie the Cat more like my fairy godmother? After all, she had saved me from Rufus Mayes the day that I discovered I was a witch, and it had been Mattie who guided me to my town.

  Hmmm, maybe I had two fairy godmothers.

  The clapboard sign that sat just inside of Southern Wishes detailed the rules of wishes.

  NUMBER ONE, WE DON’T MANIPULATE OTHER’S EMOTIONS. NUMBER TWO, NO RISING FROM THE DEAD. NUMBER THREE, WE DO NO HARM.

  So that was that. The interesting thing to me was that witches would need wishes at all. I mean, let’s face it, as magical beings we could do a lot of stuff. At least, me and my family could.

  But there were degrees of witches just as there were degrees of smarts—in people, I mean. Some witches were powerful. Others, not so much.

  It was the others that the store catered to. The store itself was a cozy, if object-filled shop. Glass orbs hung from the ceiling, antiques filled the space to make it look like a living room and a table and chairs sat in one spot by the window.

  Dust motes floated on a beam of sunlight, scattering throughout the shop, and I swore that I could smell a hint of sugar cookies.

  “Has someone been baking?” I asked.

  Cordelia’s lips tipped into a smile. “My dad likes to make the place feel cozy.”

  “Why?”

  “So that folks will tell us why they’re actually here.”

  “Don’t they?”

  She stepped behind the counter and opened a thick tome filled with crinkled sheets of paper. “You’d be surprised. Most people are afraid to ask for what they truly want. Someone might say that they want to relive a moment from their past—when they went on vacation with a loved one. But what they really want is to spend time with that loved one again.”

  I pointed to the sign. “It says no bringing people back from the dead.”

  “We don’t. But sometimes we can put a person in a deep sleep, and they can relive a moment that way.”

  “Huh,” I said, mildly impressed with the wishing capabilities of my cousin. “That’s cool. Do they like it?”

  “It’s a very real dream,” she explained. “And it lasts a long time. It’s not the sort of dream where you know you’re in a dream or you wake up early. They’ll sleep for an entire day and it feels real. Very real. So real that when they wake up, sometimes the person is crying, they’re so happy.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Thanks.” She hiked a shoulder to her ear. “My dad’s done most of it, but I help as much as I can.”

  “I’m sure he appreciates you.”

  “So anyway”—she changed the topic on a dime—“I’m looking for a fairy godmother. Someone has asked to have one at a party of theirs. Some high school thing where they want to feel like Cinderella.”

  I swiped a finger over the glossy oak counter. “You could play a fairy godmother.”

  She shot me a dark look. “I am not playing a fairy godmother. Good try. No, this needs a real one.”

  “Can’t you just wish one up?”

  “I tried,” she said. “I think there must be some sort of magical interference since I’m trying to wish for a magical creature. Like a barrier in my way or something. I don’t know.”

  I tapped my finger on the counter, trying to come up with a solution. My gaze darted around the room as if the chamber itself could give me the answer. Then a shadow buzzed by the front window.

  Only it wasn’t a shadow, it was Yates Fail. An idea sparked in my head. “Maybe she can help.”

  Before Cordelia could say a word to stop me, I darted outside to stop Yates and ask her about finding a fairy godmother.

  But just as I was heading toward her, a voice stopped me.

  “Pepper?”

  Katrina, Misha’s sister, stood hunched on the sidewalk. In her hands she carried a covered plate.

  “Oh.” I didn’t bother hiding the sound of disappointment. “Hi.”

  Sorrow filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. Am I disturbing you?”

  Yates Fail had flown way down the sidewalk. I’d have to run to catch up with her at this point. Deciding that we’d talk later, I pointed my attention on Katrina.

  I waved away her concern. “No, you’re not disturbing me. What can I help you with?”

  “I made you these—as a peace offering.” She whipped off the tea towel covering the plate to reveal chocolate chip cookies.

  Like, who can say no to chocolate chip cookies? I know that I can’t.

  I took the plate. “Thank you. I’m sorry about your sister.”

  I mean, it seemed like the right thing to say. Not that I cared an ounce for Misha, but I’m sure that Katrina mourned her.

  She sniffled. “My sister wasn’t a great person. In fact, she made choices that I didn’t agree with.” Katrina gestured to the town. “Her whole thing about Magnolia Cove, for instance.”

  “Y’all didn’t have a place to live?”

  “Only if you count the swamp as a place to live.”

  “Ew. I don’t.”

  She sighed, her shoulders dipping. I pointed to a bench, gesturing for us to sit. “It’s so hard to be able to tell prophecies.”

  “Not according to Ignatius,” I said with a scoff. “He seems to be a genius at them.”

  “He hasn’t lived with it as long as I have, and he’s still a little iffy on interpreting the signs.”

  “He nailed the omens—the mirror, owl and comet.”

  Katrina nodded in agreement. “My sister twisted his vision into what she wanted.”

  The soothsayer clutched my arm, nearly making the cookies topple from my hands. I braced my muscles as Katrina offset my balance.

  “She twisted it,” she repeated. “And I know that you heard her plan. Her plan, not mine. I never wanted to harm anyone in this town or take it over. But Misha wasn’t like me. She ticked people off and didn’t care about it. If someone became angry at her, my sister didn’t mind a bit. People feared our sight anyway, she figured. What did it matter if she had enemies?”

  “But one of those enemies killed her,” I murmured.

  “I know. That’s why I’ve come to see you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Katrina pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “First, I wanted to apologize for what my sister did. I know you must think that I’m just as guilty, had something to do with her plans, but I promise that I didn’t.”

  I thought back to when I’d listened to Misha reveal her intention and remembered that Katrina had seemed nervous about it, worried. Was that because she believed her sister was committing a sin by convincing Betty to call the death apple to herself? Or was Katrina worried because she feared for herself?

  As I sat on the bench with the cookies clutched atop my lap, I studied her. Worry lines crossed her forehead, and the look in her eyes seemed sincere. If there was something I knew, it was when a person was sincere. Y’all, I had dealt with enough liars and murderers in my time in Magnolia Cove. I knew when somebody was lying and when somebody wasn’t.

  Okay, so it’s not time to get into the fact that my instincts weren’t always correct. I realize that more than once I had pegged the wrong person as the murderer.

  But as I stared at Katrina and felt the wave of honesty blowing off her, I knew that this was someone I should listen to.

  “Okay,” I said slowly, “tell me more.”

  She swallowed so nervously that I just about saw the ball of saliva working its way down her throat. “I want to help you.”

  “Help me? How?”

  Like, was she going to tell Garrick to arrest herself? Is that how she was going to help me?

  But that wasn’t her plan at all. “I want to help you find whoever did this to my sister. Your cousin, who’s in jail now—”

  “How do you know about my cousin?” Alarm bells blared in my head.

  She bit her lower lip. “Well, I know about it because…”

  “Because what?” I was about to attach this girl to the nearest horse and start dragging information out of her, I wanted it so badly.

  “Because…” She exhaled and scratched her hair. Talk about stalling. “Because I was with Freya when she told the officer that she had seen your cousin and Misha fighting.”

  I wanted to punch something or rip a phone out of a wall. You know, the old landlines that were attached? No, not a cell phone. You can’t rip one of those out of a wall.

  “So it’s an outright lie that Misha and Amelia were fighting.”

  “I didn’t see it,” Katrina said, “and Freya didn’t deny it, but when she told the police, she had a look in her eyes.”

  “What look?”

  Katrina slid back shyly. Was she going to make me beg for the information? Oh, I would beg. I wasn’t above doing it to get Amelia out of jail.

  “Well,” she continued, “it was a look that sort of suggested that she wasn’t completely telling the truth.”

  Great. This wasn’t something that I could go to Garrick with. Excuse me, Garrick, but I have it on good authority that when Freya told you about Amelia, she looked like she might have been lying. Now, will you please release my cousin?

  Oh no, that was not gonna fly.

  Annoyed, I thanked Katrina. “Listen, as much as I appreciate what you’re telling me, there isn’t anything that I can do with that information.”

  I moved to stand, but her hand shot out, grabbing me by the arm. I stiffened.

  Ever since I had discovered the pregnancy, I was very touchy about people being, well, touchy. My maternal instinct was already kicking in, and the baby still had a long way to go before she or he would be born. What sort of crazy gorilla mom would I become once the baby arrived?

  There was no way to tell, but if things kept going the way that they were, I would be a beast—literally.

  “Don’t go,” Katrina begged. I glanced at her hand on my arm, and she dropped it. “I came to you because I want to help. Someone killed my sister, and I want to help you find them. I think we should search together. It wasn’t right for my sister to throw your cousin under the bus.”

  I gave her a big old whopping look that suggested that I doubted she could help.

  Katrina nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Look, you want your cousin free, and I want justice. I know we’re not friends, and I realize that you have no reason to trust me, but I want to help.” She extended her hand for a shake. “What do you say? Want to team up together and search out who sent Misha the death apple?”

  I’d never worked with anybody outside the family (other than Rufus) to solve a crime. But as I studied Katrina, I saw honesty flaring in her eyes.

  It was a quick choice to make. I took her hand and gave it a good shake. “Okay, partner. What do you want to do first?”

  CHAPTER 12

  K atrina and I made plans to meet up later. Freya was her number one suspect, and she was mine, too. I mean, if you went around making false claims about seeing two people in a fight, then you were automatically bumped up to the number one position on the list of suspects.

  Since I wasn’t able to catch up with Yates and ask her about hooking Cordelia with a fairy godmother, I decided to head back to Betty’s and check on her.

  When I reached the cottage, I discovered my grandmother sitting at the dining table, writing on a long scroll of paper that unfurled to the floor.

  “What are you doing? Writing a new Dead Sea Scroll?”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny. No, kid, I’m working on my will.”

  A jolt of worry that felt more like lightning fissured to my navel. “Your will?”

  “I ain’t gonna live forever,” she replied, keeping her nose to the parchment.

  “Let’s pretend that you will.”

  She glanced up with fury blazing in her eyes. “That’s the most childish thing you’ve ever said.”

  “Ouch. What’s wrong with me not wanting anything to happen to you?”

  Betty dropped the quill pen and slumped back in her chair. “Because it’s unrealistic, that’s why. As much as you and me both want me to live to be five hundred, it just ain’t gonna happen, kid. This whole deal with Misha reminded me of that.” Before I could argue, she lifted her hand. “Now, I’m not saying that I’m gonna be gone tomorrow, but we have to face the future. I won’t always be around.”

  I exhaled a staggered breath. Wouldn’t you just figure that all this focus on a new life (the baby inside me) would bring up a whole bunch of death.

  Wasn’t that just my luck?

  Well, since there was no talking Betty out of writing her will, which honestly probably should have been penned about an eon ago, I decided to sit and join her.

  “Okay, well, I want to make sure that as your newest granddaughter, I get all the good stuff. More than just the heart fire.”

  Betty’s jaw dropped for a second before she burst into laughter. “Okay, kid. What do you want?”

  I pretended to think about it. “I want everything you’ve got that reminds you of my mother.”

  Tears brimmed her eyes. Betty sniffed and magicked a tissue from thin air. She blew her nose something fierce. “Kid, just about everything that was your mother’s is up in that old room of hers. All the other stuff she took with her.”

  I figured that was the answer, but I had hoped to be wrong. My mother died before I had a chance to know her, and so this magical town had been a world away, something that I never knew about. I’d hoped that maybe Betty was holding on to something that I could pass down to my daughter.