What's a Witch to Do?: A Midnight Magic Mystery (9 page)

“I had a brother, but … he was killed then too,” he says with a hint of regret. “Mother as well, if that’s your next question. Dad died of cancer years before that. He was human.”

Great, I feel like crap now. He’s here to help me and I’m dredging up the most painful time of his life. “Sorry. My parents are dead too, and one sister might as well be. Or if she shows her face around here again, she soon will be.” He smiles at my last statement. “And I’m sorry about earlier with Sophie. She’s—”

“Scared,” he finishes. “I didn’t take it personally. Besides, I’m used to surly people. Us werewolves are notorious for it. Jason especially, but you know that already.”

“Yeah, he is not my favorite person at the moment. He was really worried about you though.”

“I know,” he says with uneasiness.

“Do you like working for him?”

“He’s been my friend for over thirty years. I’d die for him in an instant. The pack is my life.”

I know how that is. “Then why—” My psychic security system goes off inside my head like a buzzing bee. Three times. Three people cross it. “Someone’s outside.”

The knock on the front door jolts us both. Adam and I exchange a worried glance before standing up. As he quietly pads to the door, I peek out the front window. There’s a familiar SUV with “Top Dog Construction” written on the side. It takes me a second to place it. “Of course,” I mutter.

“Who is it?” Adam mouths.

“Coming, Jason,” I call as I walk toward the door.

All the color drains out of Adam’s face. I gesture for him to go into the kitchen, and he does. I move to the front door.
You can do this.
Taking a deep breath, I open it. Jason Dahl and two other imposing werewolves stand on my porch with matching scowls. The Alpha glares down at me with stone cold ice blue eyes like a husky. He’d be a decent-looking guy if he ever smiled. Six foot four, overly muscular, with sandy blonde hair, hawk-like nose, and sharp cheekbones. It isn’t just his physicality that puts a person on edge. The air around him grows a little stiller when he’s there. The only people I’ve seen him smile at are his wife and kids, otherwise he’s expressionless or sporting this scowl. Quite honestly he scares the shit out of me. And now he’s pissed off. At me. Gulp.

“Jason. This is unexpected,” I say with a smile.

“I need to speak with Adam. Right now.”

“Adam? He’s not—”

“Stop it,” Jason says, voice booming. “The vampire didn’t cover your lie. I know he’s here. I can smell him.”

I cross my arms. “I don’t appreciate your—”

“It’s okay, Mona,” Adam says behind me. I spin around as he walks toward us.

“Aunt Mona?” Sophie asks she walks onto the landing above.

“It’s okay, Soph. Go back to bed.” Her eyes narrow at the wolves before obeying.

The men exchange a guilty look. “Let’s not do this here, okay?” Adam says.

“Agreed,” Jason says.

Adam steps onto the porch. “Give me a minute?” Adam asks Jason.

The surly werewolf eyes me, then says, “Fine. We’ll wait in the car.” He nods at me. “Mona.”

I nod back. “Your Alphaness.” Jason’s glare grows stronger, but he walks toward the SUV with his flunkies. “So much for the cooperation part of the co-op,” I say to Adam.

“He’s just angry right now. I’ll talk to him.”

“What about you? Will you be okay? He won’t hurt you, will he?”

“I’ll be fine,” Adam says. “Sorry about this whole mess.”

“Stop apologizing for everything. You tried to help when everyone else wouldn’t. It means more to me than I can say. Thank you.”

Now, I’m not the touchy feely type, but I follow my instinct and move toward him, putting my arms around him. He did endure physical torture, not to mention the mental torture of Sunday Supper, for me; I think he deserves a hug for that. He stiffens at first, but after a second he embraces me back. I kiss his cheek and pull away, but he doesn’t let me go for a few moments. “Um, Adam?”

My voice breaks whatever spell he’s under. “Sorry,” he mutters, stepping away. “I better go. They’re waiting. Um, bye.” The man practically sprints off the porch toward his friends. Jason, who has been watching the whole exchange through the car window, gazes at me, hard face almost sad. Didn’t know he was capable of that emotion. Weird. Adam jumps into the car, and it speeds off before the door’s even closed.

And that’s it. I’m completely on my own now. I should be used to it, years of practice and all, but … Tears spring into my eyes, and I push them away. Crying never does a lick of good.
You are solid steel, High Priestess. Indestructible.
“It’s okay,” I whisper to myself. “It’ll all be okay.”

Yeah, not even I believe it anymore. I shut my front door.

• C
  lean the Captain
  

I lull the girls back to sleep after evading their million questions with platitudes that sound hollow even to me. There’s no real way to make, “We’re screwed,” sound good. When they’re down, I want nothing more than to join them. Just one last thing to do, and now that Adam is gone, I can do it. It takes some coaxing, and a tin of tuna, but the Captain crawls out of the fireplace. He puts up little protest, mostly due to the tuna, as I carry him into the kitchen and use a wet towel to wipe the soot off him. I kiss the top of his head. “You won’t abandon me, will you, Captain Wentworth?” He purrs, which I take to mean no. I almost start weeping but once again stop myself.

A few deep breaths, a few seconds of digging my nails into my palms do the trick. I don’t cry. I am tough, I am capable, I am …
scared shitless. At least with a werewolf on the team, I had a fighting chance. Someone to guard the girls when I couldn’t be around. Someone who faced killers before and came out alive. Damn Jason. Damn them all. I’d be there for them if they needed it. Hell, I have. Recently even. And Adam … damn him for giving me false hope. Okay, that one’s not on him. He had to go back, I know that and I don’t fault him for it. A relative stranger or his family, no choice there. No, I raised my own hopes, and I know better. After thirty-five years, I should know at the end of the day I can’t really rely on anyone but myself. I’m just an idiot who—

The magic security system alerts me that a person has crossed the perimeter. The Captain lifts his head and hisses before jumping off the counter and barreling toward the living room again. Oh hell. A second later, the doorbell rings. It’s been a little over an hour since the wolves left, but I’m still on edge. For the first time ever, I don’t feel safe in my own home. At least the girls don’t wake up this time. “Who is it?” I ask when I reach the door.

“Adam.”

For some reason it feels as if a thousand pounds lifts when I hear his deep voice. A smile stretches across my face as I swing the door open. He does not share my joy. He plods in, head hung as if he’s been through the Spanish Inquisition. “You’re back,” I say, my smile wavering.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, still not looking at me.

The SUV, with Jason sitting in the passenger seat glaring at me, drives off. Not thinking I’ll be invited to the pack Christmas party this year. I shut the door and turn back to Adam, who is halfway up the stairs already. “What happened?”

He stops the climb but doesn’t face me. “I can be, uh, very per-
suasive.”

“But he—”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?” he snaps.

“Sure. No problem.” He nods and continues up the stairs like a sad puppy. I suddenly feel like a total piece of crap. Goddess knows what that bastard said or did to him because of me. “Adam?” He turns around at the landing and glances down at me. “Whatever happened … thank you. For coming back.”

He nods. “Welcome.” He starts walking again, but then turns around. His brow furrows as he says, “We have, uh, until Saturday night.”

“To find out who wants to kill me? What happens Saturday night?”

He doesn’t answer. “Goodnight, Mona.” And he walks away.

Monday To Do:

• Find out who wants to kill me
  
• Hem that damn skirt
  
• Go to work
  
• E-mail spell for class
  
• Founders’ Day meeting
  
• Teach class
  
• Grocery shopping
  
• Stay alive
  

The alarm buzzes at
seven, and I smash the clock with my fist. I groan and pull the covers back over my head. I don’t want to get out of this bed. Ever. In here nobody wants to kill me, I have no endless To Do list, and I can ignore ominous statements uttered by werewolves. I succeeded in pushing all bad thoughts away last night as I fell asleep, but they’ve returned to torture me in the light of day.

I won’t let them. There’s no time. Gotta get the girls off to school. I toss the covers off, grab my robe (seeing as we have a gentleman in the house), run a comb though my hair, and brush my teeth. I debate slapping on makeup but realize there isn’t time. Those girls are slugs on school days. When I leave my bedroom, I notice the other two bedroom doors are open. Adam’s room is a mess with the bed unmade and clothes on the floor. The girls aren’t in their room either.

I find the threesome in the kitchen, the model of domesticity. Adam stands at the stove making eggs as the girls sit at the table sipping orange juice and watching
Dora the Explorer
on the tiny television on the counter. Okay, I’m momentarily stunned. This is just so … nice. “Morning all.”

They glance at me, Adam saluting me with the spatula and the girls smiling. “Aunt Mona! Adam came back!” Cora says, grinning from cheek to cheek. “He’s making breakfast!”

“I can see that,” I say as I step in.

“Just scrambled eggs,” Adam says as if it’s nothing. Nobody’s made me breakfast since Granny died.

“I’ll take it,” I say, pouring myself some coffee.

“Hope you don’t mind. I used the last of the eggs. And you’re out of—”

“Everything,” I say, pouring the last of the milk in my coffee. “I’ll see if I can fit it in today.”

“I want to go grocery shopping,” Cora whines.

I sit at the table. “We’ll see.” Adam serves us each a spatula full of eggs before joining us at the table. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” the girls say in unison.

“You’re welcome.” He and I share a grin and start eating. “Are you girls looking forward to school today?”

“I have pageant rehearsal,” Sophie says.

“You’re in a pageant?” Adam asks.

“Yeah, but I just have two lines.”

“Have to start somewhere,” Adam says.

“Crap, that reminds me. I have to finish your skirt. Is it—”

“I took care of it,” Adam says.

“When?”

“I’ve been up since five.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” he says with a wink.

Okay, now I’m blushing for some unknown reason. I
really
wish I had put on makeup. I start playing with a strand of my hair. “Uh, hurry up and eat girls. We don’t want to be late.”

They finish in record time and excuse themselves, running out of the kitchen to get dressed, leaving Adam and me alone. I sip my coffee and watch Dora on her adventures so I don’t have to look at him in case my cheeks flare up again. “We should probably start talking strategy,” Adam says.

Good. Yes. Work. “Well, I have to go to the shop today, then I have a committee meeting at three, followed by class here at five. Good news is I’ll have contact with three of my four suspects then. I’ll see what I can get out of them.”

“Then I’ll just shadow you,” Adam says.

“Actually, the girls get out of school at three. I don’t usually work Mondays and only have a half-day on Tuesday, but since I’m not working this weekend I have to go in. I had planned on having Auntie Sara watch them, but I think you should do it.”

“Is that wise?”

I set my fork down. “Look, let’s get on the same page right quick. My top priority is keeping those girls safe, my life is a distant second. I can protect myself. They can’t. So I’d feel much better knowing you’re around them when I can’t be. Is that okay with you?”

He smiles. “As you wish.”

“Good. Now I just don’t know how I’m going to explain you being around me all day without arousing suspicion.”

“I thought of that this morning. If you’re in the store all day, I can work on it. Fixing it up. Do you have any tools I can use?”

“Up in the attic there’s a whole setup. Saws, power drills, stuff I don’t even know the name of. They were my grandfather’s.”

“I’ll take a gander,” he says, grabbing his plate and Sophie’s.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll clean up. You made breakfast. Least I can do.”

“
Okay,” he says with a sheepish smile. “I guess I’ll be in the attic.” He leaves, and the moment he does, my damn cheeks return to their normal temperature. Gonna have to get a handle on that.

I finish eating, stick the plates in the sink (they can wait), and rush upstairs to throw on some clothes. I choose my favorite outfit: black jeans and purple beaded V-neck top. It shaves ten pounds off. Wish I had time to straighten my hair, but I don’t, so I clip the sides back with barrettes. After copious amounts of makeup and hair gel, I look halfway decent, close to pretty even.

The girls wait by the front door, and Sophie helps Cora on with her backpack. “Did you get your skirt and top?” I ask Sophie, who nods. “What about your protection charms?” They both show me the black cloth bags I made yesterday. “Good. Adam, I’m taking the girls to the bus stop,” I call out.

“Coming,” he shouts back.

“He’s coming with us?” Sophie asks.

“Yeah, and he’s gonna pick you up after school too, so be nice and listen to him.”

Adam hustles down the stairs, throwing on the jean jacket over his black top and blue jeans I got for him yesterday. I lead the parade out with Sophie behind me as Cora takes Adam’s hand, leading him out. The other parents are marching toward the corner as well. I wave to Millie Peterson and her son Gabe. “You girls remember the story about Adam, right? He’s our cousin from Boston here for the wedding.”

“We
know,”
Sophie says.

“Mona Leigh!” Auntie Sara calls from next door as we pass her house. Damn. The spry old thing walks off her porch to intercept us.

Seeing as it’s rude to run away from her, we stop. “Morning, Auntie Sara.”

She examines us, especially Adam who keeps a pleasant smile on his face. “Who is this man, Mona Leigh, and why was he coming in and out of your house at all hours last night?”

“He—he’s our cousin A.J. from Boston, here for the wedding,” Cora says excitedly. She looks at me for approval, and I smile.

The bus rolls down the street toward the stop. “I’ll take them to the corner,” Adam says. “Be right back.”

“Have a good day at school,” I say, quickly kissing them both. “Remember what I said.” Adam and the girls trot toward the waiting bus, and I’m left with my skeptical great-aunt. “Yeah, I picked him up from the airport yesterday. He wanted to come for the wedding, and he’s gonna help me fix up the shop a little.”

“I do not know of a cousin A.J. from Boston,” she says with cer-
tainty.

“He’s from Papa’s side. A.J. is his brother Cal’s grandson, Joan’s son. We’ve been e-mailing for years, but he’s never been here before.” Wow, I never knew I was such a good liar.

“I think I feel my ears burning,” Adam says as he strolls back.

“I was just telling Auntie Sara about your grandfather Cal and mother Joan, and how we’ve been e-mailing for years.”

He nods. “True. Mona’s mentioned you many a time, Miss Sara. All good though.”

“And who were those men you went out with last night if you’ve never been here before? They looked familiar.”

Crap. “Uh … ”

“Well, Mona’s not the only member of my extended family I’ve gotten in touch with,” Adam says, smooth as silk. “We went out for drinks.”

“Uh huh,” she says with skepticism.

Time to end this while we’re still ahead. “Auntie Sara, we really need to get going. I’m opening the shop alone today.” I kiss her cheek. “See you later. Oh, and A.J. will be watching the girls this week so you don’t have to.”

Poor Adam gets the stink eye again as she pulls me aside. “Him? But you barely know him.”

“He’s family and I trust him.” I kiss her cheek again. “Love you.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Adam says with a wave. After we start walking, he asks, “Think she bought any of that?”

I glance back at Auntie Sara, who is still glaring at us and shaking her head. “Hell no.”

• Open the shop
  

Monday’s are the slowest day at the shop. All the tourists have gone back to work along with everyone else. This is usually my only day off with Billie manning the shop, but not this week. She switched Saturday for today so I can prepare for the coven meeting and co-op that day. I’ve decided to just close the shop on Sunday, seeing as the entire town will be at the wedding.

This schedule used to work, but since the girls came into my life, it isn’t cutting it. I get to be home for them on Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday they’re either in the back room watching TV or with Auntie Sara. Saturday I splurge on a babysitter, which eats up the day’s profits. Sunday they’re with Debbie or Tamara and her kids. It’s bad now, but I’m dreading summer vacation. They hated the camp I sent them to last year. Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. Deal with the problems I have now, not future ones. Who knows, I may be dead by then. Lucky me.

The store’s been open two hours now, and we’ve had but one customer. The downtime allows me to remain in the back working through the online orders while Adam measures the ancient bookcases in the front. I had an e-mail from George Black profusely apologizing for yesterday. He offered assistance short of sending the team here. I still don’t know what to ask him. I just sent him a list and brief description of each of the women. He’s been investigating for decades, he’ll know better what to do than I.

Adam walks in, Papa’s old leather tool belt wrapped around his waist. “How old are those bookcases?” he asks. “The shelves are about a hair’s breadth from splintering.”

“I have no idea,” I say, adding the nightshade to the charm bag.

“Well, you need new ones. Not to mention the display shelves are in the same condition, you have three rotten floorboards, and the sign in the window needs painting. I don’t even want to talk about back here. You need a new pipe on that sink, it’s completely eroded.”

“Adam, you don’t have to actually fix anything.”

“If I’m going to pretend, I might as well do it for real.”

I shake my head. “No, you’re already doing more than enough. I mean, I’d pay you but I can’t really afford—”

“Hey, I’m stuck here, right? You don’t want me to die of boredom, do you?” he asks with that boyish smile.

“I just, I … ”

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I do this for you, you let me have all of your grandfather’s old tools up in the attic.”

“You really want them?”

“Oh yeah. You have no idea how much that stuff up there is worth. I should be feeling guilty, not you, okay?”

The store bell rings. Oh goody, a customer. “Okay, fine, but I’ll cover the materials.”

“You got it. I’ll start a list. Pick them up later.”

I swear I feel like I have a fairy godfather. With an amazing smile.

Collins waits at the counter, still in her peach scrubs with her light brown hair in a bouncy ponytail. The girl spends her days saving people, there is no way she’s a murderer. “Hey, are you here by yourself?” she asks as I step out.

“Not exactly. Did you just get off work?”

“Yeah, I pulled a double. I just came to get the ingredients for tonight. I’m out of almost everything. We’re still having class, right?”

“Yep. My house, five o’clock.” I start putting all the herbs into baggies. “I think we’re going to do a defensive spell and charm. I don’t teach nearly enough. I e-mailed it out this morning.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Just so I have a preliminary headcount, do you think Cheyenne will be there?”

“I think so.”

I continue to weigh the herbs. “How has she been lately? I saw her at the diner yesterday. She seemed out of sorts.”

“Who knows,” Collins says behind me. “I barely see her outside of coven class. We’re not exactly close anymore.”

I turn back around, all smiles. “It’s just … people have voiced concerns about her. That she’s dabbled in illegal spells.”

“Well, I don’t know anything about that. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

The curtain to the back room opens and Adam strolls out, scribbling on his pad. He glances up and smiles at Collins, who smiles back. “Um, Collins this is my cousin A.J. He’s here for the wedding. A.J., Collins.”

They shake hands. “Nice to meet you,” Adam says. “Excuse me.” He lifts up the partition at the counter and moves back toward the bookshelves.

I can’t help noticing Collins checking out his butt. A tiny, barely noticeable stab of anger forms inside. I quickly push it away. “But what about you? How are you doing? We didn’t talk much at the hospital. Been awhile since we have. Are you seeing anyone?”

“Not really, not anymore. Hey,” she says, leaning on the counter, “what’s up with you and Dr. Sutcliffe? I’m surprised I haven’t found you two making out in the supply closet yet.”

“Um,” I say, quickly glancing at Adam who glances back, “I don’t know.”

I start ringing her up, but she isn’t letting up. “He practically grilled me about you. Twice.” She scoffs. “He even asked me what your favorite flower is. Told him I had no idea.”

“He’s a very nice man,” I say. “Your total is 37.87.”

She starts digging in her purse. “Hey, can you add tannis root and a bloodstone? I lost mine.”