Secrets & Spells: A Tahoe Hamlet Paranormal Cozy Mystery, Book 1, page 1
Secrets & Spells
A Tahoe Hamlet paranormal cozy mystery
By Jacqueline M. Green
Copyright © 2023 Jacqueline M. Green
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. The resemblance of any characters or businesses to actual people or events is purely coincidental.
Of course, Lake Tahoe is a very real place. Whether or not it is a paranormal hotspot, well, who is to say?
Other Books by Jacqueline M. Green
The Kat McCoy Lake District Cozy Mystery Series
A Dodgy Death
A Stodgy Slaying
A Finicky Fatality
A Hapless Holiday (a Thanksgiving short story)
The Lacamas Village Cozy Mystery Series
Schooled in Deceit
Schooled in Fraud
The Yoga Mat Cozy Mystery Series
Corpse Pose, Indeed
Goddess, Guilted
Warrior, Fatal & Flawed
Triangle, Ill-Fated
Mountain Pose, Maligned (short story prequel)
Savasana for a Scarecrow (Halloween short story)
Savasana for a Santa (Christmas short story)
Savasana for Summer (a summertime short story)
Other books
Cruisin’ for a Corpse (A Second-Chance Reno Cozy Mystery, Book 1)
Premonition in Pompeii (short story time-traveling cozy mystery)
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
About the author
From the author
Chapter 1
Sweat beaded the forehead of the denim-clad man at the second slot machine from the right. He licked his lips and watched three sevens pop up for the fifth time in a row. My eyebrows shot straight up.
In my line of work, I’d seen this kind of thing before. It never ended well – and it was my job to make sure it didn’t.
The man placed the maximum bet and spun the wheel. Three more sevens appeared and just as quickly one was replaced with an apple. The man jolted, then cocked his head and studied the machine. He tried again. This time, one of the sevens switched to a strawberry.
The man sat back and stared hard at the machine like he was giving it instructions. He swiped at the sweat now running down the side of his face, then jammed the “spin” button. Same thing. Twice again, the man tried. Then he sat bolt upright and took a furtive look from side to side.
I grinned. Finally, the player realized something had gone horribly wrong.
He cashed out, ripping the receipt from the machine and bolting from the stool in such a hurry he forgot his VIP card in the top upper right corner.
I swept to the machine and yanked out the card, taking care to only touch the lanyard it was hooked to. With my other hand on the machine, I tuned into the problem. Just what I thought.
Magic.
That sly fox had bewitched the slot machine.
“Gabriel Hernandez, you just set yourself up for a world of hurt,” I chuckled, looking at the card in my hand. “Not to mention banishment from my casino.”
I turned to speak into the miniature walkie-talkie on my shoulder. “Gunnar, find customer Gabriel Hernandez before he leaves. I have his VIP card.”
Within seconds, my second-in-command and right-hand man, Gunnar Merrick, was at my side. I handed him the VIP card. He held it to his nose, then took off in a flash.
“Bring him to my office,” I said into the walkie talkie.
“On it,” came the quick and crackly response.
With my back to the other customers, I placed my hand on the machine and whispered a few words. I felt Hernandez’s spell release and fade away. Apparently, Gabriel Hernandez had not gotten the word that magic was forbidden at all of the casinos on Lake Tahoe’s South Shore.
I was about to set him straight.
The lure of Lake Tahoe was undeniable for magical creatures. Water itself was filled with magical properties, and Tahoe’s thirty-seven trillion gallons of H20 was purer than most. Some paranormals claimed Tahoe’s clarity made their magic stronger. Probably no surprise then that magical subcommunities had popped up around the lake, operating just beneath the awareness of the mortal majority around them.
I gave the machine a little pat, then turned to nearly blindside a Keno runner.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there.” The Keno runner hardly paused as she chided me. “Turn your blinkers on, Speedy.”
“Outa my way, Fangs. I run the joint,” I snapped back.
The Keno runner – also my best friend, Cali – spun around and stopped, her expression brightening. “Sorry, Celia. Guess I’m feeling cranky tonight. Dinner at eleven?”
I gave her a thumbs-up. “Rosie’s?”
We turned in opposite directions, intent on our individual chores.
A janitor pushed past with his cart.
“How’s it going this evening, Julian?” I asked, pronouncing his name with the Spanish “hulien.”
He turned toward me, a smile forming in his dark face.
“Va bien, except for that,” he said. He gestured toward a heavy-set older woman, who was shaking her cigarette over a paper cup.
I rolled my eyes as I watched. “I’m on it. Sorry about that.” I turned back to him. “How was your daughter’s science presentation?”
Julian’s eyes lit up. “She did so well. We hope she can get a scholarship for college.”
I held up crossed fingers, then turned toward the woman.
“Ma’am, please use the ash trays.” The woman spun her chair to face me. “Delores Fairfax? I thought you quit smoking.”
The woman, who looked to be in her late sixties, made a face.
“I quit going to Atlantic City because they kept hounding me about that,” she pouted. “I should never have told anyone I was trying to quit.”
“But you know it’s better for you,” I protested.
Delores sighed. “I’m a hundred and thirty-five years old, Celia. Is it really going to make a difference?”
Fair point.
I patted her shoulder. “Stop putting your ashes in a paper cup. You’ll set the place on fire.”
Delores tilted her head to look up at me. She handed me the cup. “Fine.”
“And no potato chips, right?” I peered around the portly woman to the slot machine behind her.
Delores hugged her purse. “You told me to stop doing that, too, and I did.”
Actually, she said “stawp,” but I understood.
I shook my head as I walked away, pausing to run the cup through a water fountain before throwing it into a trash bin. Delores was one of a group of senior citizen witches who traveled to Lake Tahoe three or four times each year from the East Coast. They were mostly well-behaved, but Delores was one I had to keep an eye on. She looked like an East Coast matron, but her attitude fit better on a rowdy barfly.
On her last trip, I caught her turning potato chips into coins, then using them in the slot machines. Money has a certain energy, so while mortals might expect witches to whip up cash, it doesn’t work that way. Once Delores cashed out, the magical coins turned back into potato chips in the machine and completely gummed up the works.
Lorraine, our systems and maintenance chief, nearly had a heart attack cleaning them out.
I started toward my office. It wouldn’t take Gunnar long to track down the errant Mr. Hernandez and bundle him off to meet me. Just another paranormal headache at my casino.
I smiled. My casino? Like I was the one who put up gazillions of dollars for this place.
I paused on the landing of the Crystal Grand Casino, with a view of Lake Tahoe. The Crystal Grand and three other small casinos were part of Little Casino Row, set further off the main Tahoe drag and away from the big corporate casinos.
You would think paranormals would prefer the anonymity of the corporate casinos, but most preferred to hang out at the Little Row. Familiarity, maybe? Perhaps because it was closer to the Tahoe hamlet, where most paranormals lived. Not me, but most.
My gaze drifted across the casino floor. An unfortunate and unexpected
What was George Rossi doing here? The owner of the next-door casino, Tahoe Titan, strolled languidly through the banks of slot machines. His head was tilted toward one of his underlings, who pointed and talked as they passed. My eyes narrowed.
My head tilted toward the walkie again and I pressed the “talk” button. “When you’re done with that, keep an eye on Mr. Rossi. I don’t think he’s just here to swim in our pool.”
“I heard theirs is broken,” Gunnar choked out. Sounds of exertion emanated from the walkie. “Sir, sir, you’ll have to come with me. Sir! C-c-copy that, boss.”
It sounded as if Gunnar and his partner, Sheila, would be heading my way any minute now.
As Gunnar clicked off, I ran my hand along the mahogany handrail and then stopped at the next corner for sanitizer. Who knew what germs I’d just picked up? Getting sick for mortals was no fun. Getting sick when you’re a magical creature made life interesting. The last time I sneezed, I knocked out power to a whole bank of penny slot machines.
The plush carpeting as I left the elevator muffled my steps. I swiped my key card and entered my office, as always glancing quickly around in case of intruders. I had placed a spell on my office to ensure no one entered it without my knowledge, but I often felt a bit antsy about it.
Pulling up the security cameras on my laptop, I noticed Gunnar and Sheila entering the elevator. They would be here within moments. Sometimes, the culprit bolted the casino, too scared to cash out. If I had to put money on it, I would bet Hernandez risked cashing out, which is why he was now on the way to my office.
I settled back in my chair, tapping a finger to my chin. These were always interesting conversations. First, the denial. Then the grudging admission of an accident. Then finally the defiance.
A soft tap came at my door.
“Come in,” I said, knowing my voice would carry.
The door swooshed open. A terrified Gabriel Hernandez stood between Gunnar and Sheila, each with a grip under his arm. I gestured to a chair in front of my desk. They half-walked, half-carried him to the front of the chair and Gunnar shoved him non-too-gently into the seat.
I waved them out. Gunnar clicked the door shut behind them, pausing to stick his head back in. “Rossi next.”
I gave him a nod and turned to our guest.
“Hit a lucky streak, did you?” I asked, raising one eyebrow.
Hernandez shrugged. “Yeah, got real lucky for a while.”
“How’d you get so lucky?” I settled back in my chair, my arms relaxed on the armrests.
He shrugged again, looking around the room as if help would materialize.
“All right, Hernandez, what did you do to my slot machines?”
“Nothing. I didn’t do anything to them.” He shook his head vehemently.
Ah, the first stage. Denial.
“Really?” I asked. “Because it looked like you used a magic spell on them.”
His eyes widened. He licked his lips and started to stand.
I waved a hand, and Gabriel Hernandez found he could not move from the chair, his hands tied to the arm rests with invisible ropes.
“Hey, you can’t do that.” Hernandez reached into his magical reservoir to find a counter-spell.
I was pretty sure I could, so I watched him struggle, amused.
His dark eyes met mine. “Okay, I might have put a teeny-tiny spell on the machines. Just to get a little extra cash before payday, but I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to do that.”
Here it was, the second stage: I did it, but I didn’t mean to.
I waited, watching him in silence.
“Look, you can’t keep me here.” He struggled with the invisible ropes. “I will report you to the Council.”
At this, I did smile. Then I waited a little longer, letting him twist in the silence.
Finally, I spoke. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to go to my grandmother on the Paranormal Council and tell them you were caught using magic to rip off my casino but only because you didn’t know that was illegal. Did I get that right?”
Confusion flew across his face. “Your grandmother?”
“Petulia Delarosa.”
Blood literally drained from his face. Hernandez slumped into the chair. Everyone in the paranormal community knew of Petulia. She had reigned on the council far longer than any other paranormal.
“Your magic is no good here.” I stood up. “As of now, Gabe, you are banished from this casino.”
Hernandez jumped up and nearly tripped over himself getting out the room.
I spoke into my walkie-talkie. “Gunnar, please make sure Mr. Hernandez finds the exit.”
Chapter 2
“I wish I could have seen him.” Cali chuckled as she smooshed a French fry through the ketchup. “Serves him right for trying to cheat the casino. How much did he get away with?”
“Not much.” I was relieved. I took pride that paranormals knew better than to target the Crystal Grand. Some of the neighboring casinos weren’t so lucky.
“It just gives us all a bad name when paras cheat.” Cali wagged a French fry at me. I flinched, leaning away to avoid getting hit by ketchup.
I agreed with Cali about cheating paranormals, and I knew my grandmother did, too. Although she didn’t have much respect for mortals, she also didn’t tolerate paranormals taking advantage of them. Most of the time, anyway. One time, an irritated troll tossed a mortal onto a flagpole. Even Gran couldn’t keep a straight face. To be fair, the human had it coming.
“Stop playing with your food.” I held a napkin in front of my face so I didn’t get hit by flying ketchup. “I don’t know why you even order.”
Cali smooshed another fry. “If I can’t actually eat it, I still want to enjoy it.” She sighed as she held up the mangled fry. “Besides I miss the taste of food, so just let me pretend.”
Just to be supportive, I picked up one of my own fries and popped it into my mouth. I couldn’t actually imagine what it was like for vampires to not be able to eat. Actually, they could eat, but the food didn’t taste the same.
Cali’s eyes scanned the table.
“You’re looking for salt?” I asked as I munched the fry.
She punched a finger on errant salt grains near her plate. “I can’t help it. I spied these and off I went.”
“I told Becky to salt the fries before she brought the plates,” I said.
“It’s a curse.” Cali’s eyes scanned the table. “Literally, I think it’s a curse.”
An Achilles heel for vampires was the temptation to stop and count small items – grains, nuts, seeds.
“But it’s fine. At least if I’m counting, I’m not so irritable,” she said, looking from the table toward me. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.”
“You and everybody else,” I agreed. “It almost feels like a full moon.”
It wasn’t a full moon, though, but tensions had seemed high lately, and not just in the casino. Some witch had nearly taken me out with her cart at the grocery store the other day.
I was just finishing the last French fry when my shoulder mic started blaring. “Celia, man down in the Royale. Repeat, man down. Dialing 9-1-1.”
I threw down my napkin and blasted out of the booth before Gunnar finished his message. Cali was on my heels as we raced out of the diner.
“Put it on our tab, Becks,” Cali cried as we ran past the cashier.
“Our tab? You mean Celia’s tab,” Becky called as she rang up the bill and assigned it to my tab, no doubt giving herself a generous tip.
Within minutes, we were on the casino floor, cutting corners and slipping past gamblers. We screeched to a halt outside the men’s restroom near the Royale Bar, where a small crowd had gathered.
“Get these people out of here and back on the floor,” I ordered Sheila as she stalked past.
Then I gasped. “No!”
There, lying halfway out of the restroom entrance, was Julian, blood pooling from his head. My hands pressed to my mouth as my eyes filled with unbidden tears. I ducked my head as I turned away to quickly wipe my eyes.
After a deep breath, I turned back. “Did anyone see what happened?”
Gunnar shrugged even as he shook his head. “Not as far as we can tell. As soon as the uniforms arrive, we’ll check the video camera.”
