Slightly Spellbound (6 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Frost

BOOK: Slightly Spellbound
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I moved my charm-bracelet-clad wrist behind me.

“Evangeline also has a bad temper and questionable judgment. She once tried to mow a former friend down with her Bentley. The woman ended up with a broken pelvis. Expensive lawyers convinced the judge that Evangeline had diminished capacity, so rather than jail she spent two years in a mental institution.”

“Two years,” I said with a gasp.

“Still want to be her friend?”

“Hmm,” I said, cocking my head. “What did the former friend do to make Vangie mow her down?”

Bryn raised his eyebrows. “Is there any argument that should be settled by hit-and-run with a Bentley?”

I pressed my lips together thoughtfully, watching steam rise from the pool. “Well . . .”

“Tamara,” Bryn said, shaking his head.

“All right, so maybe she’s a couple of Hershey’s miniatures shy of a full bag. That doesn’t mean she couldn’t use a friend. And she claims she has a right to your friendship and protection.”

“What?”

“She said you made a promise to protect her.”

Bryn tipped his head back, staring at the sky, then looked back at me. “I promised to help her look after her assets. I’ve given her legal advice. And several of us vowed to help if there was cause to believe her stepmother and stepbrother were trying to hurt her. But they have control of the house and the bulk of the estate. There’s no reason for them to target Evangeline. You need to understand that she has a history of paranoid delusions.”

“Oh, wow. And around here, we’ll never know if she’s crazy or if she’s right that someone’s after her, since a lot of the time, magical people come to town with murder on their minds.”

Bryn smiled. “You have a point.”

“I tried to warn her that my life’s crazy, but she wasn’t having it. And when she’s nervous she looks just like a baby deer. You can’t expect me to shoot Bambi down. And what if she really needs help?”

“I’ll look into it. But you need to remember her bouts of instability. She can be dangerous.”

“How does that make her different from any witch or wizard I’ve ever met?” I said with a sigh.

He pulled me in for a hug and kissed the side of my head. “Just be careful.”

“I’ll give it a whirl.”

“If I don’t hear from her in the next couple of hours, I’ll call her and set up a meeting.”

“Sounds good. Until then, I’ll be in the kitchen making everybody breakfast.”

“You need sleep. The staff and I can fend for ourselves today. I sent Jenson back to bed. He’s got a cold.”

I waved off this plan. “Mr. Jenson needs me to make him breakfast if he’s sick.”

“You’re not here to wait on the staff. The staff is here to take care of you and me.”

“That’s sure overstating things, don’t you think? It’s not my John Hancock on anybody’s paycheck.”

“Tamara,” he said.

“I’m cooking the breakfast. About the only way you can stop me is if you kick me out of your house. Maybe not even then. I’d probably just ring the bell and leave a package at the gate.”

Bryn smiled. “Thank you for making breakfast.”

“Welcome.”

6

AFTER BREAKFAST, I went home and hit the road. I delivered fresh bread, three apple pies, and two pumpkin pies to Jammers and three classic cheesecakes, one chocolate cheesecake, and two tiramisu desserts to De Marco’s Italian restaurant.

With two checks for the week’s catering in my pocket, I zoomed home. I’d just arrived when my phone rang and Sheriff Hobbs asked me if I had a friend named Evangeline Rhodes.

Uh-oh.

“I know Vangie,” I confirmed. “Why do you ask, Sheriff?”

“Can you come on over to Delaney’s?”

I raised my brows. Delaney’s Furniture wasn’t open at eight thirty in the morning.

“Sure thing,” I said, starting my car and swinging around.

When I arrived in the parking lot, the sheriff stood next to the massive inflatable bouncy castle that was between the store and the grocery market. I hurried over.

There was a plastic sign that said the bouncy castle opened at ten a.m. with the store. There was a theater-type rope between two posts blocking the entrance to the play area. Over the castle’s doorway there was hanging fabric.

“Talk to her, Tammy Jo. See what’s what.”

I looked at the sheriff, who nodded at the castle.

“She’s in there?” I asked, brows shooting up.

He gave a nod.

I stepped around the rope barrier, swept aside the fabric, which was a pair of silk scarves, and peered in. She was lying on her back under a blanket.

“Um, hello?”

Vangie sat bolt upright, her hair falling around her face and shoulders, and pushed up a puffy eye mask. She blinked.

“Hey,” I said.

“Come in,” she said.

“I think it would be better for you to come out. What the heck are you doing in there?”

“Trying to sleep, but there have been a number of interruptions.”

“Vangie, that castle is for kids to play in. You can’t sleep in there.”

The mask slipped down so that her eyes were half-covered. She looked like a bohemian Batman.

“It doesn’t open until ten a.m. The children can’t use it now. And I don’t want to waste time driving back to Dyson when I have arrangements to make here later.”

“What arrangements? Did you talk to Bryn?”

“He doesn’t believe that I’m in danger,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I guess I’ll have to die to be taken seriously.”

I clucked my tongue. “Now that’s—”

She flopped back, causing the floor to bob and for me to almost fall over since I was leaning in with my palms on it.

“Vangie, what arrangements?”

“Hair and makeup. I don’t care about those things normally, but for a wedding . . . well, I guess it’s such a big occasion that I should. And I’ve heard really good things about the hairdresser here in town. I hope I’m still alive at ten thirty. He managed to fit me in. I wouldn’t like to be a no-show.”

My eyebrows threatened to touch my hairline. “Vangie, tell me why you think you’re in danger. Who’s going to try to kill you?”

“Them, of course. Madame Lycra and her weasel of a son. I’ve got protection charms on my ankles and wrists,” she said, her arms shooting up so I could see her bangles. “But it won’t do any good. My father had a protective amulet and they managed to kill him.”

“Why would they want you dead?”

“You’ll have to ask them.”

“Well, how do you know they want to hurt you?”

“I heard them whispering. And they’ve snuck into my apartment.”

“How did you hear them whispering? You don’t live with them.”

“I have my ways.”

“Did you catch them in your apartment?”

“No, I didn’t need to. I know they were there.”

“How?”

“My dresser. The hairbrush was moved two point five inches. And the lines in the carpet were disturbed in the living room. I had them all exactly parallel. When I came home the center lines were off.”

“So you think they came in and moved your hairbrush and on their way out used your vacuum to cover their footprints in the carpet, but didn’t get the lines right?”

She sat up, causing each of us to bobble.

“Precisely,” she said.

I cocked my head. “I’m not too sure about that.”

“Well, I am.”

“Although,” I said. “Hair can be used for spells.”

“They won’t be using mine! I don’t allow any stray strands in my apartment. I burn them all so they don’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Hmm—”

“Tammy Jo,” Sheriff Hobbs said.

“Hang on a sec, Vangie,” I said, straightening up and turning to face the sheriff.

His arms were folded across his chest.

“Get her out of there right now or I’m going to arrest her.”

“All right,” I said, pushing the scarves apart. “Come on out of there.”

“I’m quite comfortable here. It’s just for an hour.”

“The sheriff will arrest you.”

Vangie tilted her head. “I don’t see why. I’m not hurting anything. When I’m gone, there will be no sign I was ever here. I leave things undisturbed. Unlike some steprelatives I know. Crooked carpet lines! As if I wouldn’t notice.”

“Oh boy,” I said. I crawled in and walked to the corner to get her bag. “Hurry up now. You have to get out of here.”

“I don’t see why,” she said, giving her covers a snap. Her sudden movement made the spot under my feet push up. I lurched forward and landed hard, making the whole floor bounce and causing Vangie to fall over.

We exchanged a look and started to laugh. “Like walking on marshmallows,” I said, getting back to my knees. “Come on. I have plenty of room at my house. You can stay there until your appointment.”

“Oh,” she said with wide eyes. “That’s very kind of you.” Her shy smile widened. “All right, I accept. You’re a lovely maid of honor.”

“Um, well,” I said. Was I actually going to stand up in this odd girl’s wedding? I had a sneaking suspicion that I probably was.

Vangie collected her blanket, cell phone, and pillow and we wobbled out. She retrieved her scarves that were taped over the opening of the castle and rolled them under her arm with the pillow and blanket. Then she shuffled toward her car after murmuring, “Good day, Sheriff.”

I gave the sheriff a sheepish smile and a shrug.

“You sure have strange taste in friends lately,” the sheriff muttered.

“I know it,” I said, because he wasn’t wrong.

 • • • 

ONCE I GOT Vangie settled in, I began the daily baking. She came down to the kitchen after an hour and didn’t seem to have combed her long hair because it was tangled and slightly fuzzy. Her clothes too were rumpled from being slept in.

“You need to borrow a hairbrush and an iron to press your clothes?”

“Nope.”

“You have a hairbrush in your bag?” I asked when she picked it up.

“Nope. My brush is where it belongs, on my dresser, four point five inches from my jewelry box and at a forty-five-degree angle with respect to the edge of the dresser.”

“Hmm, that sounds like a very specific place for it. But wouldn’t it be better to carry it with you? So you could brush your hair whenever you needed to?”

“I shouldn’t think so. Everything in its proper place.”

“Sure, sure,” I said, offering her a slice of warm brown bread with butter and honey. “But you’re going to see Johnny Nguyen, right?”

“Exactly,” she said, eating the bread. “Delicious!” She drank the glass of milk I set at the edge of the counter for her and then put her dishes in my sink. She smiled. “Thank you, maid of honor. Just out of curiosity, what kind of gemstones do you like?”

“I—you don’t need to buy me anything.”

She glanced around like the walls might have ears. “I was just curious,” she said. “Hypothetically? Sapphires?”

“Vangie,” I said, pointing to where her shirt had fallen partway off her shoulder. It was too large for her. “Do you have any clothes in your car?”

“Emeralds? Rubies? Tanzanite? You would look very good in tanzanite.” She gave me a twinkle-eyed smile and strode to the front door.

“You have to comb your hair!” I called.

“Don’t be silly. I’m going to see an acclaimed hairdresser. I’m sure he’ll want to see my hair as it is.”

“Disheveled?”

She snickered as she opened the door. “No, in its natural state.”

Good lord.

 • • • 

SEVERAL HOURS LATER, on my way back from dropping off a mince pie in Old Town, I turned up the radio. Listening to the request hour on the new Duvall-Dyson station had become a local pastime. Who was sending out “I love you” songs? Who’d requested “I’m sorry” and “Let’s not break up” or “Get out of my house” songs? We were all curious to find out. For my whole life and probably longer, gossiping’s been the number one hobby in Duvall.

Red Czarsak’s mellow baritone made him my favorite DJ. “And here comes some Lonestar,” he said. “This one goes out to Tammy Jo. The song’s called, ‘Let’s Be Us Again.’”

My heart missed a beat and then sped up. I pulled onto the shoulder. I licked my dry lips and listened to the words. It was about a relationship gone wrong. One that the man thought was worth saving.

While the car idled, I put my head back on the headrest and chewed my lip, anticipation thrumming through me. There was only one person who could’ve requested that song for me. Now what was I going to do about it? I inhaled a deep breath and blew it out.

For a few minutes after the song ended, I sat on the side of the road. I was really good at fighting with Zach and really good at making up with him. The one thing I’d never been able to do was ignore him.

I turned the car around and drove to his house. Keyed up, my heart pounded by the time I parked next to his curb. My arrival turned out to be anticlimactic since he wasn’t even there. Nerves jangling, I pursed my lips. The least he could do was be home to confront me when I showed up without warning.

I probably should’ve left, but I have a spare key and what else is that for but to get inside a house in an emergency? The emergency was that I couldn’t take it anymore. It was okay for Zach to be mad. It was okay for him to want to see less of me while I was involved with Bryn. It was even okay if he wasn’t in love with me anymore—all right, not really, at least not at first. But what was not okay, and never would be, was for him to cut me out of his life like we didn’t have almost twenty years of history.

It was wrong of him to talk to me through the radio station when he wasn’t talking to me in person. And I’d tell him that if he ever bothered to show up.

Because I cook when I’m nervous, or stressed, or pretty much any time I don’t have anything else to do, I went straight to his fridge and started dinner. Twice I stepped back from the stove and asked myself what the heck I was doing.

I turned off the burners and glanced at my right hand. I squinted to see through the concealment spell. The gold band on my middle finger had a row of blue-violet sapphires, symbolizing Orion’s Belt and Bryn’s celestial magic. The white gold band Bryn wore on his left middle finger had vines, a symbol of earth magic and me. When the bands touched, our magical connection intensified, a powerful reminder of our unbreakable bond.

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