One Potion in the Grave: A Magic Potion Mystery (7 page)

She laughed and gave him a playful shove. “Always, Earl. Always.”

As Eulalie primped in front of the mirror for her big debut with the press, I noticed how Louisa’s eyes flared when she spotted a manila envelope in Earl’s hands. Her gaze flashed to Landry, then Cassandra, then back to the mail—straight to the coffee-stained envelope on top of the pile Hazel had just handed to Earl.

She obviously knew what it was, and it was causing her much distress if the sudden pounding of her heart was any indication.

That envelope had to contain Katie Sue’s
ammunition
. I’d bet my witchy senses on it.

I grabbed my locket to try to block Louisa’s emotions. This happened sometimes when I was in a crowded room—I couldn’t block energy no matter how hard I tried. It kneaded my soul, pushing and pushing until I finally gave in to the pressure.

Louisa stepped toward Earl, and before I could fully reconcile what was happening, she tripped and lurched
forward, catching Earl’s arm on the way down. The mail went flying, but Earl caught Louisa before she hit the ground. He set her to rights.

At the same time, Cassandra had rolled forward to help her mother and accidentally knocked over an end table. As everyone but Eulalie (she was too busy peeping out the window) scurried forward to help with the situation, Louisa bent down to scoop up the mail. We reached for the coffee-stained envelope at the same time, each grabbing an end.

Anger flashed in Louisa’s eyes, a direct contrast to her syrupy voice. “I have it.”

“No, I do.” I yanked hard, pulling it from her grasp. The motion sent her reeling backward, and she landed flat on her rump. Everyone gasped and glared at me.

“Sorry,” I said and quickly handed the envelope off to Earl, who tucked it—and the rest of the mail—into the bag slung over his shoulder. “I don’t know my own strength.”

One of the bodyguards helped Louisa up, and her mask slipped as she stared at me. “You should be more careful.”

“As should you,” I countered. “Tripping over invisible obstacles and such.”

One of her perfectly plucked eyebrows lifted as she glared. There was nothing but steel magnolia in her countenance, and I suddenly wondered who was really in charge of this family.

They had already proven that they’d go to great lengths to protect each other—and apparently if Louisa was willing to steal that envelope, she had chosen shielding her husband over outing him for his affair. I couldn’t
understand that depth of loyalty after being betrayed and had to wonder if it was more a matter of preserving the family name for the sake of her children than anything else.

“Now, now,” Hazel said, rushing over. “All’s well. There, there,” she clucked, awkwardly pushing Cassandra’s wheelchair away from the table, which Dylan put back in place.

Landry gave his mother’s cheek a quick peck and said, “I have a bit of a headache. I’m going to rest for a few minutes.” He headed for the stairs.

A bit was an understatement. His head was pounding. I didn’t offer him a headache potion, though it would have cured him in an instant. I wasn’t feeling too friendly toward this family right now.

I needed to get out of this house. My ability to block energy, even while grasping my locket, was fading.
Headaches, pounding hearts, excitement, anxiety, fear, happiness, love, maliciousness . . .
It was too much. I’d planned to wait for Katie Sue, but surely she could find her way across the street on her own.

Earl said, “I should be getting back to my route.” He tipped his hat. “Y’all have a good day. Try to stay out of trouble, Miss Hazel.” He winked at her, and she giggled.

I urged him to hurry. To get that envelope far away from here. As he started for the door, I kept a close watch on Louisa to make sure she didn’t have any more
accidents
. She had her hands on her pearls and determined eyes on Earl.

Anger. Boredom. Frustration.
Infatuation. Stress. Hatred.

Dizzy, I swayed. My palms turned clammy, and I felt
the color drain from my face. I was losing control and had to get away before I was completely overwhelmed with the energy in the room. Dylan leaned and whispered in my ear, “Are you okay, Carly?”

I shook my head and said softly, “I need to leave.”

Loudly, he announced, “I’ll be in touch. Carly and I are going to head out now, too.”

I said, “You’ll send Kathryn over to my place, Aunt Hazel?” I suddenly worried about Katie Sue’s change of address and her note to Jamie Lynn—but Hazel would know to send Jamie Lynn across the street if Katie Sue didn’t reach her first.

Patting my hand, concern filled Hazel’s eyes. She knew what was happening—she’d seen it before. “Sure thing, sugar. Hurry on your way now.”

Dylan put an arm around me. My head buzzed and I felt queasy—and I still had to make my way through the crowd of reporters. I braced myself as best I could. But as Earl held the door open for us, a shotgun blasted the air, shattering the last threads of my control.

Chapter Seven

I
hit the floor with a bone-jarring
whump
after having been tackled by Dylan. Energy swirled around me, flooding my senses. Tears leaked from my tightly closed eyes as I tried to fight against the waves. I was drowning.

Confusion. Stomach hurting. Pounding pulse. Fear. Head aching. Hopelessness. Infatuation. Happiness. Knee hurting. Jealousy. Annoyance.

Warmth settled on my cheek—Dylan’s hand. “It’s okay, Care Bear. Look at me.”

“I—I can’t.”

“Come on now,” he said, his lips so close to my ear that his breath stirred my hair. “What kind of quitter attitude is that?”

Quitter? Did he just call me a quitter?
Oh hell no.
I cracked open an eye.

“That’s my girl. Now the other one. Look at me, come on.”

His face was blurry through the haze of my tears, but I could still see the flecks of blue in his green eyes, his
long dark lashes, the light scar beneath his right eyebrow. He lay half on top of me, half on the floor. Protecting me. Not just from random gunshots, but from things he didn’t really understand but accepted without question nonetheless.

“Focus on me. Just me.” His hand caressed my face, spreading heat from my cheek to my jaw and back up again. “Remember that time I wanted to make you a special breakfast and I burned the toast, undercooked the eggs, and forgot to put the pot under the coffeemaker? And you scraped the toast, pretended to eat the eggs but actually fed them to Poly on the sly, and sopped up the spilled coffee with paper towels and wrung them over your Professor Hinkle mug so you could still get your caffeine fix? Those were some good times, weren’t they?”

A tear slid down my cheek as I managed a smile. It had been right after our engagement, and I’d been over the moon in love with him. “The best.” I sighed. “I loved that mug.” It had broken into many pieces a year ago when a shelf collapsed in the kitchen. Things were forever collapsing in my house.

Laughing, he said, “I know.” His thumb whisked away another teardrop snaking down my face.

Slowly everyone else’s energy began to seep away, tide waters receding, leaving me drained and spent and limp as tattered seaweed. All that remained was one solitary emotion.

Love.

I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his. I suspected both.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He pressed a kiss to my nose. “Anytime, Care Bear, anytime.”

I turned my head and finally took note of the others. The bodyguards were gone—I assumed to the back deck. Eulalie peeked out from behind an armchair, and Earl was atop Hazel on the couch—and looked to be enjoying himself quite a bit. I suspected the infatuation I’d been feeling came from him. Louisa crouched next to Cassandra’s wheelchair, which she’d pulled behind an overturned table.

Landry came flying down the stairs. “What the hell was that?”

“Someone’s shooting,” Cassandra said.

I glanced at Dylan. “Marjie.”

“Undoubtedly,” he said with a smile. To everyone, he said, “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but hang tight and I’ll go check it out.”

“What do you mean, you don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” Louisa snapped. “Does this sort of thing happen often around here?”

“Yes,” Eulalie, Hazel, and I said at the same time.

At a loss for words, Louisa just shook her head and threw a glance at the liquor cart as though wishing she were sipping on a large gin and tonic.

I levered onto my elbows and said to Dylan, “I’ll come with you. I wouldn’t want Marjie to shoot you.”

For a split second, he looked about to argue but thought better of it. He knew Marjie well. “Good idea.” He stood and reached for my hand. I slipped my palm into his feeling safe, secure.

Loved.

In one smooth move, he helped me from the floor but kept hold of my hand. Because I still felt spent, I didn’t mind him toting me along.

“Everyone stay put for a minute,” he said.

“Okay,” Earl said with a toothy grin.

Hazel giggled.

“For land’s sakes,” Eulalie muttered. “She has two and I can’t even get one.”

Undoubtedly, hers was the jealousy I sensed. I smiled. I loved my family. Outside on the deck, the two security guards had pig-piled atop Warren. Each had a gun drawn and didn’t look the least bit afraid to use it.

“Crazy lady next door is shooting up the place,” one said.

I glanced around for Katie Sue and found her ducking behind a bush, left behind to fend for herself by the two lug nuts protecting the senator. Her eyes were wide with caution but she wasn’t hurt.

I glanced next door. Hazel had tried her best to camouflage Marjie’s unkempt yard with a row of arborvitae and a six-foot privacy fence, but Hazel’s deck was high and gaps between the evergreens revealed glimpses of the mess. Marjie stood on her should-be-condemned back deck, a shotgun on her shoulder, a target in site.

“Aunt Marjie, for heaven’s sake!” I shouted. “Put the gun down.”

“Ain’t my fault they can’t read,” she said loudly. “Says plain as day T
RESPASSERS
W
ILL
B
E
S
HOT
. It serves them right to be popped full of holes. Out with you now, you hoodlums. I ain’t got time for this. I have a
hike
to be taking.”

She said hike with all the enthusiasm of someone going in for a colonoscopy.

Two Darling County deputies stood at the gate—safely on Hazel’s property—smiling ear to ear. They were
familiar with Marjie’s antics and how she took trespassers seriously. There were at least a dozen N
O
T
RESPASSING
signs on her land.

There was no movement in Marjie’s backyard. Apparently the intruders didn’t realize she was deadly serious.

“I’m going to count to ten; then I start shooting again,” she said.
“One!”

“Miss Marjie, you don’t want to have to clean up all that blood,” Dylan said, trying to reason with her.

“It’s good for the plants,” she said.
“Two!”

Someone squealed and came running out, a long-lens camera in hand. A reporter. A foolish, foolish reporter.

“Well, that’s one of them,” she said.
“Three!”
Another reporter went running, tripping on weeds as he tried to navigate Marjie’s overgrown yard.

“Four!”
she shouted.

No movement.

“Five! . . . Six! . . . Seven!”

Dylan looked at me. “The paperwork alone . . .”

Marjie shouted, “You always were a stubborn coot, Cletus Cobb! Get your ass out of my yard!
Eight!
”

I glanced at Katie Sue. She’d gone pale at the name. Her stepdaddy.

“Fine!” a man shouted. “You always was batshit crazy, Marjie Fowl!”

“I should shoot you just for that, but can’t fault a man for tellin’ the truth, even if the man is you.” She laughed manically, and said,
“Nine!”

Cletus came scurrying out of the scrub, hitching up his sagging pants as he did so. A long scraggly beard covered most of his gaunt face, and greasy hair hung to his shoulders.

Katie Sue sank back farther into the shadows of the bush.

Marjie lowered her gun. “Carlina Bell Hartwell, get yourself over here, child. I want a word.”

I glanced at Dylan. “Want to come with me?”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay here and let everyone know that it’s all clear.”

“Chicken.”

“Bawk,”
he said.

I rolled my eyes and said, “You should probably also make sure Warren hasn’t been suffocated and that Katie Sue comes out from under that rhododendron.”

I noticed how she trembled and wondered again what Cletus had done to her. Anger bubbled, my hands clenched, and I willed myself not to go after Cletus with my pitchfork.

Taking steadying breaths, I scooted around the reporters and deputies, high-stepped over weeds, and made my way to Marjie’s deck. She jerked her chin upward, motioning for me to climb the rotted steps.

The first one broke as I stepped on it. “If it’s okay with you, Aunt Marjie, I think I’ll stay down here.”

“Suit yourself.” She stood there for a minute, her gaze scanning the horizon, the look in her eye scaring people away from her fence line.

“Did you need me for something?” I asked, shooing away a wasp that was getting a mite too friendly.

“I do believe there’s something over yonder that belongs to you, if what I saw in your shop earlier is any indication.”

I leaned back to see where she was pointing. In a
corner of her yard, I could see a pair of feet underneath a malnourished shrub. Girly feet if the sandals were any indication.

“I’ll give you a minute to get her and sneak out the back. And don’t let it be gettin’ around that I didn’t shoot her on the spot, got it?”

Baffled, I said, “Got it.”

“Now git! Your time’s tickin’!”

I jumped off the step and quickly bushwhacked my way through the backyard jungle toward the trespasser. “Hello?”

No one answered, but as I neared the bush, I heard her say in a small voice, “Don’t shoot me.”

“I don’t own a gun, but you probably have thirty seconds or so before Marjie loses her good will.”

“Carly, is that you?”

I rounded the bush and my eyes widened as I recognized the intruder. “What are you doing here?”

“Is she really batshit crazy?” Gabi Greenleigh asked.

“Yes,” I said, grabbing her hand and yanking. She didn’t budge. “And she will shoot you if you don’t get moving.”

“I—I can’t. I’m so scared my legs are like jelly.”

I put an arm around her and said, “Lean on me. Come on.”

“This is so embarrassing,” she muttered.

I half dragged her to the loose slat in the fencing. I’d ducked through this opening more times than I cared to admit. “What are you doing here?”

“I got to thinking about Landry possibly having another woman and thought I’d sneak over and check it
out. There’s a good view of his bedroom balcony from here.”

“You were spying on him?”

“Is that bad?”

“I’m not one to judge.” I nudged the slat aside and pushed her through. I quickly followed.

Breathing hard, Gabi leaned against the fence, a twig stuck in her long hair. “I can’t believe she was really going to shoot.”

“Marjie takes her privacy seriously.”

“She didn’t shoot you.”

“I’m family. I get a two-minute warning at least.”

We stood there for a second picking thorns from our clothes and assessing the scrapes and bruises. Gabi had a long thin scratch running along her arm that was going to be hard to cover with makeup. Hopefully the wedding photographer could airbrush it out. But then I remembered Delia’s dream and my heart sank. Would there even be wedding pictures? Why had Gabi been covered in blood?

As I tried to get a sticky burr out of her hair, we turned at the sound of a nearby fence picket sliding out of place.

Gabi shrank a bit. “She’s not coming after us, is she?”

“That’s Hazel’s fence.”

“Is she crazy too?”

“Yes,” I said, “but not in a gun-toting kind of way.”

“Dang. Your family is something.”

“I know.”

A leg with a familiar gold shoe stuck out of the gap, and then a body shimmied through. Katie Sue gasped
when she turned and saw us. Her cheeks immediately flamed as she righted her dress, smoothing it into place. “I had to get out of there,” she mumbled.

“Are you avoiding the reporters like I am?” Gabi asked.

Maybe so, but it probably had more to do with Cletus.

“Yes, the reporters,” Katie Sue said quickly.

“Have we met?” Gabi asked, sizing her up. “You look mighty familiar.”

“No, but we’ve been to some of the same events,” Katie Sue said in a strange, strangled tone. “Calhoun events.”

“Right, right,” Gabi said thoughtfully. “I think I’ve seen you with Warren a time or two.”

Katie Sue’s hands were fisted. “Just a loyal supporter,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Do you live around here? Or are you in town for the wedding?” Gabi laughed. “I barely know most of the guests.”

Katie Sue said, “I won’t be at the wedding.”

There was a tremble to her voice that had me studying my old friend. And when she didn’t offer Gabi good wishes on her upcoming nuptials—good manners, pure and simple—I let down my guard to feel her energy.