Magic & Misfits, page 2
part #13 of Starry Hollow Witches Series
Raoul shook his head. Humans.
I smiled at the pink fairy armadillo. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
“Good day, miss. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Why can’t I have one of those so everyone can hear me? Raoul asked.
Because then everyone could hear you.
You’re depriving the world of the voice of a generation.
Swap ‘depriving’ for ‘saving.’
“I do so appreciate your assistance with this delicate matter,” Arnold Palmer continued. “It’s a relief to find someone with your skills in Starry Hollow willing to take on new clients.”
“You need magic?”
“No, I need someone with a discerning eye.”
I looked at Raoul askance. And you brought him to me?
He doesn’t need someone to dress him.
“How delicate are we talking?” I asked.
The pink fairy armadillo’s stomach brushed against the floor, his gossamer wings too weak to lift his portly body completely into the air.
“You see, I was formerly the familiar of a witch named Heloise Gumtree.”
“Is she in my coven?” I didn’t recall anyone with a pink fairy armadillo companion. I would have remembered that strange pairing. Raoul and I were the lone misfits. Even Bonkers was part cat.
“No, no. Heloise and I lived in a lovely coastal town in Devon.”
“Pennsylvania?”
“England, miss.”
I scratched my head. “And how did you end up here?”
Arnold Palmer seemed to tire of trying to fly and settled on the floor at my feet. “I answered an advertisement on the interwebs.”
There’s a service that matches witches and familiars, Raoul added.
“Won’t they help you connect with a witch?” I asked. That seemed to be the whole point of the service.
“According to the reviews, they have a tendency to rush you into a match in order to collect their commission,” he said. “I have no intention of rushing into such a momentous decision. There’s far too much at stake.”
I wouldn’t trust their opinion either, Raoul said. I bet they’d lie about someone’s background just to make the match, like my stockbroker.
I shot the raccoon a quizzical look. “You have a stockbroker?”
Not anymore.
I returned my attention to Arnold Palmer. “Why use the service at all?”
“Because I believe the suggestions are genuine and the questionnaire I completed was thorough, but I’m skeptical of their interpretation of the results. I’d like more information before I render a decision.”
“So what do you want from me?” I asked.
“I would like my prospects vetted by an independent third party,” he said. “I have a checklist of wants and needs to guide you.”
“Don’t we all?” I muttered.
“I’d like to put my considerable talents to good use and give input into the garden. I’d also like someone who appreciates my cooking.”
Raoul perked up at the mention of cooking. I wouldn’t mind having a familiar of my own. Maybe he can be my companion.
I smiled at the visitor. “It sounds like you’re creating a wish list for a second marriage.”
“It’s not too far off, I suppose. Heloise wasn’t exactly the nicest witch in the world, you see, and I would prefer a more positive experience this time around.”
I eyed Raoul. And you chose me to help? Why? I was hardly the best judge of good relationships.
Because he’s willing to pay. Why else?
“I’d like it to be the best of all possible matches, the kind that you have with Raoul,” Arnold Palmer said.
I cut a quick glance at the raccoon. Did we have the best of all possible matches? It could definitely be worse.
“What happened to Heloise?” I asked. “Someone threw a bucket of water on her and she melted?”
Arnold Palmer sniffed. “As though such a thing were possible. No, a broomstick mishap. She was flying over the harbor in Torbay as a storm rolled in. The wind knocked her from her broom and she plunged into the sea and drowned.”
I grimaced. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m only grateful I wasn’t with her at the time,” the pink fairy armadillo said. “I’d offered to accompany her, but she refused. I believe she said—'what need have I for a useless sidekick who’s too fat to fly solo?’”
“Sounds like she was a real charmer,” I said.
“Hence my trepidation. I want to choose wisely, Miss Rose, now that I have the option.”
“And you’ve already narrowed down the field?”
He nodded. “The agency sent me three names in Starry Hollow, which is why I’ve come here first. I’m hopeful that you can vet all three.”
“What happens if none of them make the cut?” I asked.
Arnold Palmer lowered his head. “I fear I haven’t been willing to contemplate that possibility. Starry Hollow seems like a charming town and I’d love to settle here. Find a place where I feel at home.”
“I don’t want to mislead you. I’m not a matchmaker or a detective,” I protested.
You’re sort of a detective, Raoul said. Like a private investigator, only your investigation report ends up printed in the newspaper.
Arnold Palmer’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Apologies, Miss Rose. I was under the impression that this was your speciality.”
Oh gods, I couldn’t stand here and watch a pink fairy armadillo cry. I wasn’t a monster.
“I can do it,” I said.
A fat tear dropped from his eye and splashed on the floor. “Are you certain?”
“Absolutely. One hundred percent. No charge.”
Raoul’s head jerked toward me. No charge? Have you lost your mind? Is this a sign of early menopause?
Raoul might’ve been unhappy, but Arnold Palmer was elated. “Thank you, miss. This is wonderful news. Truly.” He produced a scrap of paper out of thin air. “Here’s the list. They’re all local. I haven’t met them yet. I’d rather not until I know that I want to.”
“Understood.” I glanced at the names—Violet Bay-Moonstone, Laurel Honeywell, and Lavender Soap. “Um, Arnold Palmer, I think you may have mixed up your grocery list with this one.”
“No, I’m afraid that last name is accurate.”
Well, that was unfortunate.
Do you know any of them? Raoul asked.
I don’t recognize the names.
They must be in the coven.
Not necessarily, but I’ll see what I can find out. If there was a reason they didn’t mix with everybody else, better to know now.
“I am forever indebted to you, Miss Rose,” the armadillo said.
I leaned down to pat his head. “Don’t put the cart in front of the horse. Be forever indebted to me after I’ve found your perfect match.”
Chapter Three
I poked my head into the Vox Populi office to make sure the coast was clear before fully entering.
“Yes, this is where you work,” Bentley said. “Well done.”
I glared at the elf as I made my way to the neighboring desk. “I just wanted to make sure my aunt wasn’t paying us a visit.” As the owner of the newspaper, Aunt Hyacinth occasionally popped in unexpectedly.
“Why? Are you in trouble?” The elf sounded far too delighted by the prospect.
The news of our rift hadn’t yet made it to the newspaper. How ironic.
“None of your business,” I said. I twisted to see whether the door to Alec’s office was open. As the editor-in-chief, the vampire was in the unfortunate position of being both my boss and my boyfriend.
“She’s not in there,” Bentley said, noticing me. “Neither is he, for that matter.”
“Has he been here at all today?” I asked.
Bentley frowned. “Shouldn’t you know that? I thought you two were joined at the lip.”
“It’s the hip,” I corrected him.
He turned back to his computer screen. “Not in your case.”
I smiled to myself, remembering our most recent lip lock. Alec and I did have amazing chemistry. Unfortunately, chemistry wasn’t enough to overcome some of the issues we’d been trying in vain to address. And my problem with Aunt Hyacinth only served to increase the tension between us. Alec didn’t want to be stuck in the middle. Aunt Hyacinth was his boss and their working relationship began long before I arrived on the scene in Starry Hollow.
“Where’s Tanya?” I asked.
“Hair appointment. She’ll be in shortly.”
“What are you working on?” I asked, shoving aside all thoughts of my aunt. I needed something else to focus on or I’d go nuts.
Bentley tapped on his keyboard, ignoring my question.
I leaned over to look at the file on his desk and my heart skipped a beat. “Roy Nash? You’re still working on this?”
Bentley had recently shared his intention to investigate cold cases so he could write articles about them and he planned to start with the unsolved murder of Sheriff Nash’s father.
“I got sidetracked by other projects but decided to really dig in.”
“You should talk to Sheriff Nash,” I said. “Compare notes.”
Bentley gave me a skeptical look. “I thought you were worried it would upset him.”
“I’ve changed my mind. He’s been working on the case on the side over the years. He might appreciate the extra set of eyes.”
Bentley perked up. “Are you serious? Do you think he’ll mind sharing?”
“The only way to find out is to ask.”
The elf regarded me with interest. “Why don’t you ask him for me?”
“Why me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Are you really going to ask that? You know why.”
“The sheriff isn’t more likely to…” Oh, who was I kidding? “Fine, I’ll talk to him for you.”
“See if he’ll give you his notes,” Bentley said. “No reason to reinvent the wheel.”
The door opened and Alec entered the office. The vampire looked exceptionally handsome in a light grey suit and crisp white shirt.
“We’re working hard, boss,” I announced, making a show of pounding the keys.
He ignored my exaggerated display. “Are you available for dinner this evening?”
“With you? Let me check my calendar.” I glanced at my phone. “I’ve got a hot date with a pink fairy armadillo but otherwise I’m totally free.”
“Excellent. Does seven o’clock suit you?”
“I like to eat dinner, too,” Bentley said to no one in particular.
“Your place or mine?” I frowned. “Make that yours. I haven’t cleaned Bonkers’ litter box.”
“How about the Lighthouse instead?” he asked.
“Oh. What’s the occasion?” It wasn’t a birthday or an anniversary.
He rested his hands on top of my computer. “Does there need to be an occasion to dine with you somewhere with exceptional food?”
“No, but we’ve gotten in the habit of eating at home,” I said. “I thought there might be a reason.”
He leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Okay. I’ll wear something provocative enough to make the staff wonder if you’re out with a hooker.”
Bentley strangled a laugh.
“Please don’t,” Alec said. “What are you working on now?”
“The vandalism article,” I said.
“Have you even started that yet?” Bentley asked.
“I named the file,” I said, pointing to my computer screen. “That counts.”
Bentley scowled.
“What are you working on, Bentley?” Alec asked.
The elf was taken off-guard. “Oh, uh. The high school is getting a new roof.”
“Fascinating,” Alec said. He continued to his office at the back of the room.
“Why didn’t you tell him about the cold case?” I asked.
“Do you really think he’d want me helping the sheriff? You know better than anyone they don’t get along.”
“Technically, you’re not helping the sheriff. Your goal is the article.”
Bentley resumed typing. “Still, I’m not going to risk Alec telling me to abandon it.”
“I have to admit, your thing is more interesting than mine. Vandals painting lewd comments on Muse Fountain isn’t very exciting.”
“I’d be happy to trade with you.”
“Not today, Satan.” I managed to sift through my notes and write the entire first paragraph before my phone alarm sounded.
Bentley smirked. “End of the day already?”
“Hardly. I’ve got a magical sergeant waiting for me in the woods.”
“Sounds kinky. Does Alec know?”
I closed the document and grabbed my purse. “I’ll get the information from Sheriff Nash before I come back.”
“And I suppose you’ll stop at the Caffeinated Cauldron, too.”
“And for lunch,” I added, smiling. “A girl’s got to eat.”
Bentley shook his head, scowling. “Must be nice to be you.”
I peered out the window for any sign of Marigold. The witch was never late, but I’d waited in the woods behind the cottage for twenty minutes before giving up and returning home. There was no answer to my calls or texts either, which was unusual. Marigold was a stickler for everything, including punctuality. The last time I was late to a lesson, she made me form a psychic link with a toad from the nearby pond and see if I could persuade it to stop eating flies. Naturally, the toad had no interest in abstaining and thought I was lunatic. You haven’t been properly humiliated until an ugly toad has given you side-eye. Marigold took fiendish pleasure in watching me struggle. Pretty sure she even recorded the endeavor on her phone, although she swore up and down she did no such thing.
I considered calling the local healers’ offices to see whether she’d been brought in unconscious. As I was about to turn away from the window when I observed a seagull swoop down and perch on the fencepost. Although the birds were a staple at the beach, we rarely had them turn up at the cottage. Upon closer scrutiny, I realized the seagull clutched something in its beak and I went out to investigate.
The moment the door cracked open, the bird dropped the object and flew away. I rushed forward to grab the item before the wind took it. I plucked the tightly folded paper from between two blades of grass and opened it as I returned to the cottage. I immediately recognized Marigold’s neat and precise handwriting. That saved me a bunch of frantic phone calls, at least.
My dearest Ember,
It pains me to tell you this, but I’m afraid that I am unable to continue
our lessons as planned. Hyacinth has decided that you require no further
education on the subject of magic. Henceforth, all future lessons are cancelled.
No further education? The timing couldn’t have been worse. As far as I was concerned, my recent influx of power made my lessons a necessity more than ever. As much as I complained, I found the army of coven tutors indispensable when it came to exploring and developing my skills.
I leaned against the door and sighed. Aunt Hyacinth was determined to punish me in every possible way, it seemed. It was to her disadvantage, though. With Ivy’s power, I could cause mass destruction if I wasn’t careful. The Rose name would be dragged through the mud all over again. My aunt was more terrified of a besmirched reputation than nuclear war.
PP3 lifted his head from his curled-up position on the sofa, as though sensing my disappointment.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I said. “It’s not like I ever wanted those lessons. Aunt Hyacinth forced them on me.” I still had my own resources, including Ivy’s Book of Shadows and grimoire, as well as Artemis. And I was certain my cousins would still offer magical help if I needed it. They’d just want to do it behind their mother’s back. Florian loved us, but he loved his bottomless bank account more, I suspected.
My gaze fell upon the dining table where Hazel and I often held our runecraft lessons. No more Big Book of Scribbles. At least there was a silver lining.
I tucked the note in my pocket. Without lessons, I’d have more time to commit to Marley and Alec, as well as my job. It was a good thing…wasn’t it?
I decided to take advantage of my unexpected freedom and head to the sheriff’s office now to talk to Sheriff Nash about his father’s case. That would leave me plenty of time to make dinner for Marley and get ready for my evening out with Alec. I liked the idea of Bentley owing me a favor, if only because it would irk the elf to no end to have that hanging over his pointy ears.
I greeted the receptionist with a friendly smile and kept walking. Everybody knew me in the sheriff’s office and didn’t seem bothered by my presence. Deputy Bolan was the only one who would give me a hard time about stopping to see the sheriff without an appointment. To be fair, the cantankerous leprechaun would give me a hard time about handing him a winning lottery ticket.
My eyes widened at the sight of a curvaceous werewolf perched on the edge of the sheriff’s desk. With her plump lips and sandy-colored hair, she looked more like a swimsuit model than a deputy.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt a meeting.”
His guest slid off the desk and turned to face me.
“Ember Rose, I’d like you to meet my new deputy, Valentina Pitt.” He looked at his companion. “Ember is a reporter for the local newspaper, so you can expect to see a great deal of her.”
Deputy Pitt’s gaze flicked over me. “I’ll make a note of it. Wouldn’t want to arrest her for trespassing.”
“No, you definitely don’t want to do that. Her aunt is Hyacinth Rose-Muldoon. If you don’t recognize that name already, then you will. Trust me.”
I ignored the remark about my aunt. She was the last paranormal I wanted to discuss right now.
“What happened to Bolan?” I asked in an effort to steer the conversation away from my relations.
“Nothing happened to him,” the sheriff said. “We’ve been needing an extra pair of handcuffs for quite some time and Deputy Pitt will fill that role nicely.”
I’ll bet. She’d fill a bikini nicely, too, although I hoped to never see it.
