Southern Fortunes: Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book Ten Read online

  The cold wind felt good as it smacked my face. It sliced over my clothes, sending splinters of frigid air pricking my skin. My flesh would chafe, but I didn’t care.

  Axel’s words swirled in my brain as I flew over my town, the place I had grown to love in a short time.

  The gingerbread houses painted vibrant colors stood out against the skeletal winter trees. Spring would arrive soon, and I couldn’t wait.

  Witches below me scurried to their skillets or cars. The crowd that had gathered outside Magical Elements had dispersed.

  I spied my own shop, Familiar Place, and swept down to land. I lashed my skillet to a pole. A laugh caught my attention. Prissy strolled down the street with the girl I’d been referring to as “the other Beverly.”

  They sashayed, ponytails swinging with authority, shoulders back as if they owned the road.

  Strange. Shouldn’t they be in mourning? Or at least hanging their heads a little bit.

  I would be if I’d lost my friend.

  As they passed, I reached out to Prissy. “I’m sorry about Beverly.”

  She recoiled.

  “Like I said, I’m sorry.”

  Prissy's eyes narrowed. She took one look at my extended hand and dragged her gaze to meet mine. “Beverly was right about you.”

  My hand fell limply to my side. “How’s that?”

  Her lips twisted into a sneer. “You’re weak. All half-breeds are. The purer your blood and the older your family, the stronger you are.”

  I wanted to ask what happened to pathetic little Prissy? Prissy had been Beverly’s minion, but she’d also seemed a sad, tragic figure unable to think or act on her own. She reminded me of a high schooler obsessed with being part of the “in” crowd.

  I’d learned that once you removed a person from the offending crowd, they turned out pretty decent because what they wanted all along was acceptance. They’d been seeking it in the wrong place.

  Ahem. Not that I would know anything about that; it was simply my observation.

  Anyway, those thoughts had led me to think that Prissy would actually be human once Beverly was removed from the pot of grits.

  Apparently, that was not the case.

  Confusion twisted the other woman’s delicate features. “I don’t remember Beverly ever saying that witches from newer families are weak. Did she say that?”

  “Be quiet, Valerie,” Prissy snarled.

  I stiffened. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But I’m still offering my sympathies about Beverly.”

  Prissy nodded as if that was the only acceptable way to respond to me, and the women strolled on.

  I shivered. It was cold outside. Best to get in where my body could thaw out. Prissy should consider doing the same, but it wasn’t her skin that needed thawing.

  It was her heart.

  Anyway, as soon as I stepped inside Familiar Place, warmth pricked my flesh. I unwrapped my scarf and draped it on a coat stand. “Betty! Betty, you here?”

  My grandmother waddled out from the back. “Pepper, how am I supposed to campaign for mayor when I’m stuck in here all day? I thought you’d be back hours ago.”

  “Oh, well, in case you hadn’t noticed, there’s been a death.”

  She scowled. “Are you sure about that? A death?”

  I raked my fingers down my face. “Unfortunately I was standing right in front of the victim.”

  “Dang it, Garrick should’ve called me. As this town’s potential new mayor, these are things I want to know.”

  I sat on a stool and stretched my legs. The skillet left my muscles stiff. Releasing the tension was heaven. “Oh, there’s something else you’ll want to know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It was murder.”

  Betty frowned. “Does Amelia know?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  Betty rubbed her chin. “Great. Let’s keep it that way.”

  I cocked my head in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

  She folded her arms in a dramatic flourish. “Because I’m not giving up my secret spell. Not for anybody.”

  SEVEN

  “What do you mean, you’re not giving up the spell?”

  Amelia, Cordelia, Betty and I sat at the dinner table.

  I had to admit, Betty had outdone herself tonight. She’d whipped up mashed potatoes, chicken fried steak, biscuits, white gravy, fried okra and even apple pie.

  Clearly the guilt was strong with her.

  “You can’t go back on a deal.” Amelia’s voice rose to a squeak. “Pepper says there’s been a murder. We made a bet.” She pressed a finger into the table. “A bet and I won.”

  “For one thing, we only have Pepper’s word that there’s been a murder. We don’t know with absolute certainty yet.”

  The doorbell rang. Cordelia wiped her mouth and rose. “I’ll get it.”

  “Whoever it is, invite them to supper.” Betty heaped more potatoes onto her plate. “There’s enough for half the town.”

  Cordelia opened the door. Garrick tipped his head. “Hey, ladies.”

  For once he wasn’t wearing his police uniform or fedora. Instead Garrick wore a thick winter coat and knit hat pulled down to his eyes.

  Cordelia stepped out of the way. “Come in. Won’t you join us for supper?”

  He patted his belly. “I haven’t eaten yet.”

  “Come on, Garrick.” I waved him in. “There’s plenty. Even the new mayor said so.”

  Betty glared at me. “I’m not mayor yet.”

  Garrick shrugged off his coat and wove his finger through his light brown hair. “Smells delicious. I’m starved.”

  Amelia rose. “Let’s make some room.”

  We shuffled our chairs while Amelia grabbed another plate and silverware.

  Garrick eased down beside Cordelia and flashed her a thousand-watt smile. “I thank y’all kindly.” His gaze swept over the fixings. “This looks great.”

  Betty talked while Garrick built his plate. “Tell us, Sheriff, to what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

  One side of his mouth curled into a smile. “I wanted to go over some pre-mayoral stuff with you.”

  She folded her hands. “I’m all ears.”

  “It’s official. Mayor Battle is stepping down, so you’ll need to register over at City Hall.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “I’m also afraid you might have some stiff competition.”

  Betty’s brows shot to peaks. “Oh? Who else has decided to run?”

  Garrick grimaced. “Gilda Goldenheart.”

  Betty’s gaze narrowed. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Amelia cleared her throat. “That’s some pretty stiff competition, there. She has tons of money to spend on a campaign. She could hire a flock of bats to spell her name in the sky.”

  Steam practically poured from Betty’s ears, but what Amelia said was true.

  I’d met Gilda Goldenheart when I first arrived in Magnolia Cove. Her boyfriend, Ebenezer Goldmiser, had been murdered and I had thought Gilda was guilty of said murder. I’d been wrong, but at the time all signs had pointed to yes.

  “The town loves her,” Amelia said, adding a tongue click at the end. “She lost her boyfriend to a murderer, she’s a sweet old lady—two things you don’t have, Betty.”

  “I have other talents,” Betty snapped. “I’m a warm, friendly, caring person.”

  The air stilled. The three of us cousins exchanged a look before we burst into laughter.

  Betty glowered. “I am warm. I can prove it.”

  “By revealing the secret spell?” I batted my eyelashes to help us win our case.

  Betty focused her laser gaze on Garrick. “Pepper seems to think there’s been a murder in town. I’m calling hogwash.”

  Garrick sipped his water. “It’s not hogwash. It’s true. Looks like someone poisoned Beverly Unk.”

  Betty took a long sip of tea. I knew what she was doing—stallin
g. My grandmother didn’t want to teach us the secret spell, but she couldn’t renege on the bet. It had been magically sealed.

  There was no way Betty would be able to crawl out of this. She could beg, steal and cheat as much as she wanted, but that pact had been made in a way it couldn’t be broken.

  Even Betty Craple couldn’t find a loophole.

  “Who did it?” Amelia said.

  Garrick stared at his food. “You know I can’t talk about that.”

  “I was there,” I chirped. “The only people around were Burt, who owns the store, his employee Connor, Beverly and her two minions. Oh.”

  I let the Oh hang in the air.

  Cordelia poured herself another glass of tea. “Oh? Did you forget someone?”

  “No.” I stuffed okra into my mouth to avoid talking.

  “She’s forgetting that Rufus Mayes was there.” Garrick scooped mashed potatoes onto his fork with help from a biscuit. “He threatened Beverly right before she died.”

  I swallowed a knot of okra. “He did, but not because he was going to kill her.”

  “You sure about that?” Amelia said.

  “He was protecting me.” Heat dotted my cheeks. “Beverly tried to start a catfight with me.”

  “Like I said, are you sure he wasn’t going to kill her?” Amelia spoke through a bite of biscuit. “We all know how Rufus feels about you. He’s got the hots for Pepper.”

  “Amelia.” I sighed. “Please let’s not talk about this.”

  She shrugged. “Okay, but if Rufus thought Beverly was going to hurt his woman—”

  I pounded the butt of my knife onto the table. Amelia jerked in surprise.

  “I’m not his woman,” I growled.

  “Of course you’re not,” Amelia said. “You’re Axel’s woman. All I’m trying to say is that Rufus likes you. Everyone knows that. It’s not as if you like him back.” She forked food around her plate. “One person pining over another who doesn’t have the same feelings isn’t a new thing. It’s as old as time, right, Betty?”

  “Very funny, kid. I’m not a thousand years old.” Betty’s gaze flickered to Garrick. “You think Rufus killed her? It won’t look good if the town’s next mayor allows a newly minted citizen to remain—one who’s potentially dangerous.”

  Garrick rubbed the back of his neck. “He just returned to Magnolia Cove. Why would Rufus have done it?”

  “Like Amelia said…” Cordelia pulled her long blonde hair over one shoulder and stroked it. “For Pepper.”

  Garrick grunted. “Doesn’t sound good enough.”

  Silence settled around the table. The events leading up to Beverly’s death wormed their way through my brain. I realized what Garrick was thinking.

  “You’re not looking at Burt, are you?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” His lips pursed to tell me that’s exactly what he was doing.

  “But Burt wouldn’t have done it,” I argued.

  Garrick shrugged. “You never know anyone’s motives. Burt and Beverly had both taught at the school for a long time.”

  “And Beverly bought her divination powder from him.”

  Garrick said nothing.

  “Garrick.” I settled my cutlery on the plate. “Beverly was Burt’s customer. I don’t think he would’ve killed his money train.”

  “Didn’t he fire her as a customer?”

  I slumped into the chair. “So that’s it. You think that Burt killed and fired her as a customer? You must have more evidence that they didn’t get along.”

  Garrick folded his hands and leaned forward. “Think about it, Pepper.” He cut his hand across the table. “And this is all I’m going to say about it. The only person who would’ve touched the divination powder was Burt.”

  “Or his assistant,” I protested. “His assistant was there, too. Don’t forget that.”

  “So then two hands—two. And out of both men, who had more interaction with the murder victim?”

  “Your mama,” Amelia chirped.

  Everyone at the table turned to her. A giggle bubbled up in my chest and exploded out in a stream of laughter. Everyone else laughed, and the tension dissolved.

  Technically I understood what Garrick was saying. Burt had opportunity, but I didn’t think he had motive. Burt seemed to be a good man. I could feel it. He wouldn’t have murdered Beverly. He talked about her, sure. Didn’t like her, obviously, but murder?

  I didn’t think so.

  We finished up dinner by discussing Betty’s mayoral strategy.

  “I think your slogan should be, ‘You can bet on Betty.’” Amelia smiled proudly.

  Cordelia nodded appreciatively. “That is good.” She clicked her tongue. “I think you should go with it.”

  Betty cracked her knuckles. “I’ll consider it. You can bet your heinies that Gilda’s going to have something along the lines of, ‘Go for gold with Gilda.’”

  Amelia’s voice filled with wonder. “That’s good, too. You are so screwed. If this mayoral contest comes down to choosing based on slogans, you’ll be out on your butt.”

  “And that’s why I’m not teaching y’all the secret spell.”

  Garrick hitched a brow. “Secret spell?”

  “It’s a spell that can change someone’s mind about something,” Cordelia explained. “But you can only use it once a year, and you can’t use it stupidly.”

  “Like I would do,” Amelia said. “That’s what you wanted to say, isn’t it?”

  Cordelia’s gaze slid to Garrick. I don’t think he quite knew the depths of Amelia and Cordelia’s love/hate, hate/love relationship.

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” Cordelia explained.

  “Of course not,” I said. “Anyway, who’s ready for dessert?”

  Garrick left after eating a huge wedge of apple pie topped with ice cream. Once he was gone, Amelia turned on Betty.

  “Secret spell. You owe us.”

  Betty sighed. “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  I wrapped her up in a bear hug. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. Think we’ll use it on you or something?”

  “No,” shot out of her mouth faster than a bullet from a rifle.

  My mouth dropped. “You are.” This was the most fascinating turn of events since I’d discovered I owned magic. “You are afraid of teaching us. You think we’ll use the spell on you.”

  “I do not.” Betty’s lower lip tightened.

  Amelia shot me a look of disbelief. “Yes, you are. You’re afraid that once we learn the spell, we’ll make you change your mind about something.”

  Cordelia sank onto the couch and propped her legs on a footstool. “I wouldn’t have believed it unless I saw it, and even now it’s hard to believe that Betty thinks we would do that.”

  “Yeah,” Amelia said to Betty. “It’s almost as if you’re scared because you’ve used the spell on us before.”

  “Yeah,” Cordelia seconded, “but we didn’t know about it.”

  “Exactly.” Amelia poked the air. “So I think you did. I think you’ve used the secret spell on us, and you’re afraid we’ll exact some sort of crazy revenge.”

  “Don’t give yourself too much credit,” Betty grumbled. “Y’all aren’t capable of making me change my mind about anything big. The best y’all could do is make me forget about having an extra serving of banana pudding.”

  “Why would you want to forget about that?” I raked my fingers through my hair. “That sounds like the best idea ever.”

  Amelia laughed. “Okay, so if the three of us swear not to use the spell on you, then you’ll show us, right, Betty?”

  Betty opened her mouth, but Amelia cut her off. “Otherwise, if you don’t, you’ll be reneging on our witch’s agreement. I’d hate to think what would happen if you did that.”

  Betty yanked her glasses off. “I wouldn’t even think about doing that. I’d rather kiss a pig than mess up the deal.”

  “That’s not what you said
to me earlier,” I murmured.

  “I’ve changed my mind.” She shot me a scathing look. “I’m allowed to do that, right?”

  “I suppose.” I winked at my cousins. “So Betty, does this mean you’ll teach us the secret spell? That now we’ll know all the mysteries the universe has to offer?”

  She cackled. “Ha! This won’t help you solve any mysteries, but it will help if you ever need it. Okay, girls, hold on to your hats. You’re about to learn how to change someone’s mind.”

  EIGHT

  “The only way to work the secret spell is with this.” Betty pulled a pouch of tobacco from a box on the mantle.

  “Tobacco?” Amelia said, stunned. “You use tobacco to work the secret spell?”

  Betty nodded. “Why do you think I smoke my pipe? I’ve got to be ready to talk somebody out of whatever bad thing they’re considering at any time. Ladies, a threat can happen any moment. We must be prepared.”

  “Well, I’m not going to smoke tobacco to work that spell,” Cordelia said. “You can just forget it.”

  Cordelia waved us off and headed upstairs. “I’m too tired for all this. Y’all have fun. Amelia, if you think this is worth it, you can tell me in the morning.”

  “I will,” Amelia shouted.

  Cordelia disappeared up the stairs, and Amelia turned to Betty. “I want to know how to work it. I don’t care about the tobacco. I can smoke a little from a pipe if I have to.”

  Betty’s lips coiled into an evil smile. “You won’t be smoking it.”

  Confusion washed over Amelia’s pixie features. “I won’t?”

  “No. You’ll be chewing it.”

  “Ew.” My cousin grimaced. “I have to chew it?”

  “And eat it. And it might make you sick to your stomach. But that’s the trade-off. You want someone to change their mind about a plan, you get yourself a pinch of my tobacco, chew it up, swallow it.”

  I took the pouch and sniffed. “Smells like earth and rain.”

  Betty winked. “Best tobacco there is.”

  I sighed. She was probably full of baloney, but I mean, she was keeping her part of the deal. I supposed. I handed the pouch to Amelia so she could smell.