Miss Frost Ices The Imp: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 2) (11 page)

“But that means telling your grandmother,” Delaney exclaimed.

Hugh snorted. “You think Elenora doesn’t already know what’s been happening in town?”

“Wait,” I said. “Who’s Alice Bishop?”

Delaney rolled her eyes. “She’s an ancient witch that Hugh’s grandmother saved from the Salem gallows. She’s incredibly powerful and the woman behind the spell on the falls that makes any human who drinks the water oblivious to the fact that this town is full of supernaturals.”

Hugh nodded and sighed. “She’s also as deeply in my grandmother’s pocket as anyone could be. I love my grandmother dearly, but she can be a bit manipulative at times. And at those times, it’s often Alice who carries out her wishes.”

“Got it.” I took another sugar cookie, having polished off everything else on my plate. “Maybe we should wait and see Francine first. I mean, maybe
you
can get me in to see Francine. Or us. You know what I mean. Anyway, since you know her…”

He frowned. “About that. The Greshams have never been particularly good citizens of Nocturne Falls. Frankly, we weren’t unhappy to learn they were selling their house. And Francine only got worse after Roger left.”

I leaned forward. I wasn’t a gossip, but this was interesting. “How were they not good citizens?”

Hugh’s perturbed look increased. “They’re both technically human—well, I suppose Roger is borderline. But they’re fully aware of the supernatural world around them. And Roger claimed to have some gifts—”

“Psychometry. And Francine reads cards.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Hugh nodded.

I smiled. “Greyson told me.”

“Then you also know they had a shop here in town.”

“Yes.” I snagged a third truffle. “They sold curiosities.”

“Not just any curiosities. Those related to the supernatural. And many of those things held real power. They shouldn’t have been for sale in an open market like that. They were objects best left to hands that could keep them safe. At the very least, some of the more dangerous items should have been locked away.”

He shook his head. “We talked to the Greshams about this on more than one occasion. Offered to buy anything like that that came along. But Roger refused, stating it was his shop and his right to sell whatever he liked. Which it was. Up to a point. And that point was the safety of our town and its population.”

“What did you do?”

“We resorted to secret shoppers. We’d have them scout the shop regularly and look for items. When they found something, they had permission to buy it and bring it to us. We were able to secure quite a few rare and risky things this way.” He blew out a sharp breath. “Until Roger found out.”

I was on the edge of the couch. “Then what happened?”

Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “Roger changed his window display to highlight his most recent acquisition. An 1800’s antique vampire-hunting kit.”

“Son of a nutcracker,” I whispered. “What a cold move.”

“Indeed,” Hugh replied. “Things grew increasingly strained. It seemed Roger went out of his way to stock the most troublesome items he could. We were about to hire counsel when Roger left unexpectedly.”

“Another woman,” I said.

He nodded. “After that, the shop’s demise was a matter of time.”

Delaney finished a sugar cookie and wiped the crumbs off her mouth. “What happened to the shop after that?”

I understood Hugh’s wry smile, because I already knew the answer to that one. But I let him tell his wife.

He glanced up at her. “A new business moved in.”

“Which one?”

His mouth pursed. “Yours.”

Eyes rounding, she moved back. “You told me that building was an insurance office.”

“It was, but the agency was only there for a month or two before they moved on to a different space.”

She punched him playfully in the arm. “Hugh Ellingham, you never said a word about the Greshams’ shop being in my space.”

“I didn’t want you to think the place has bad history. I worried you might not want it if you knew what had been there before.”

She snorted. “Fudge balls. I would have taken that shop if it had housed a serial killer support group. Opening my own place was a dream come true.”

“Glad to hear that, darling. I assume I’m forgiven, then?”

She put her hand on her well-rounded stomach and smiled. “I suppose. At least for now, until we get this new trouble dealt with. What are we going to do about this loose creature? Do you really trust Alice to help with this?”

He patted her leg. “I’m not sure. On one hand, I do. It’s the preservation of the town. On the other hand, if there’s any way she can harness this magic for herself, she’ll figure out how to do it and store it away for future use.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think she can. Imari said the way this thing works is I’m the only one who can contain it because I own the box. I’m the one responsible. Sadly.”

Greyson put his hand on my arm. “You spent quite a bit of money at that estate sale, didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “Depends on your definition of quite a bit, but I dropped some bills. Why?”

“Who took care of the sales?”

“A woman. Bryn something. I got the sense she was brought in by an outside company to take care of the whole thing.”

“Can you get in touch with her? Tell her you’re interested in a few more things?”

“I think the company’s info is on the receipt. Although I don’t know if I’ll get an answer on a Sunday.” Although I thought I knew where Greyson was going with this. “You think I can get Bryn to let me into the house so I can find Francine and talk to her about the box?”

“I do.”

“Good idea, Greyson,” Hugh said. “If Francine has any idea about what’s going on, that might be the only way to get access to her. And I’d like to hold off on involving Alice in this if at all possible.”

I stared at the box on the table. “I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

But first thing turned out to be more like the three hundredth thing and didn’t happen until ten seventeen A.M. My late night had meant I overslept, which turned my morning into a mad rush of getting ready for work. Then there’d been a small issue in the shop when a particularly cranky customer wanted to return two puzzles that hadn’t actually come from our shop. Whether or not that was the work of the loose magic, I had no idea, but I finally just caved in the name of customer service and told Juniper to give her a credit. So much for Sundays being more laid-back.

Two Dr Peppers and a stack of chocolate doughnuts later, I was at my desk staring at the receipt from my estate purchase. That’s when I noticed that my receipt was twofold. I had a white one and a yellow one. The merchant and customer copies. Odd, but not so unusual.

I dialed the number listed on the receipt and waited for someone to answer.

“Century Estate Sales, Bryn Anderson speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Bryn. I wasn’t sure I’d reach you on a Sunday.”

“I’m always available. Never know when a client might need me. What can I help you with? Are you interested in using our services?”

“I’m actually calling because I was at one of your sales recently. Don’t know if you remember me, but I’m the girl with the blue hair who bought some things at the estate sale in Nocturne Falls yesterday. A painting and a rug and some other—”

“Oh yes! Of course I remember you.” She sounded awfully chipper. “I’m so glad you called. I believe I accidentally gave you both copies of the receipt. Really dumb of me. So sorry about that. Do you think we might meet up so that I can get my copy? My boss is a real stickler for accurate records.”

“I could put it in the mail to you first thing tomorrow morning. That might be faster if you have to come back to—”

“No, no. I’m still in town. I’d prefer to get it from you in person, if that’s all right. In fact, I could swing by your house pretty much anytime.”

“Uh, sure, I guess.” But I wasn’t about to let this unexpected turn of events deter me from getting to the woman who could help me with this box. “Look, the reason I called is I was wondering if there was anything still for sale. I’d love to have another look around the house. Maybe buy a few more things. In fact, we could meet at the house, and I could bring you the receipt then.”

She hesitated. Like she was thinking. “The sale is over, but I might be able to make an exception. How’s tomorrow morning?”

“I’d have to meet at nine. I have work and—”

“That’s perfect. So, uh, are you the one who bought that decorative box?”

Now this was interesting. “Yes. That was among the stuff I bought.”

“Excellent! The owner of the estate did
not
mean to sell that piece. In fact, it’s my fault the box was on that table to begin with. Anyway, if we could get it back that would be great. It has tremendous sentimental value.”

I held back a snort.

“If you could bring that with you tomorrow morning, I’ll not only see that you’re reimbursed for the purchase price but make sure you get a significant discount on anything else you’d like to buy.”

I had a decision to make and I had to make it fast. “I’ve gotten pretty attached to that box.”

Bryn went silent for a moment. When she spoke again, the perkiness was gone, replaced by a more steely tone. “Perhaps we can offer you a slightly higher compensation for it.”

“I’m not really interested in money.”

“Then what are you interested in?”

I took a breath. “I’d like to speak to Francine Gresham.”

More silence. Except for the long, slow intake of breath on Bryn’s side. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I assume you have my number on your caller ID?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then I’ll wait for you to call me back with that assurance before I make any plans for tomorrow.”

“You do have the box, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“You, uh, haven’t removed the lid, have you? It’s important that we get it back in one piece.”

Clearly, Bryn knew the box held something magical. Did she know exactly what? But that was a question best asked in person. I wanted to see her face. “No.” That wasn’t a lie, because technically, I hadn’t removed the lid. Spider had.

“I’ll call you back shortly.”

“Very good.” I hung up.

It took her all of ten minutes to call back. “We’re all set. Francine will see you tomorrow morning at nine. Make sure you bring the box.”

“And the receipt, right?”

“Uh, yes, the receipt, too.”

I smiled at how she’d almost forgotten the supposed importance of that little item. “See you tomorrow.” I hung up and went back to work.

But my phone rang again a few minutes later. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Princess Jayne? This is Birdie, from the station. You remember me?”

I laughed. “How could I forget you? And Birdie, please just call me Jayne.” The princess bit was cute, but really, no one called me that. Unless Cooper or Greyson were teasing me or there was some official North Pole function happening, which obviously, there was not.

“I’ll try, but it seems wrong not to call a princess
princess
.”

“Until I’m queen, I promise it’s not a big deal.”

“If you say so. Anyway, I called because I am having a dickens of a time trying to get through to Francine. The woman just doesn’t want to be bothered.”

I grinned. “Speaking of, what are you doing tomorrow at 9 A.M.?”

“I’m starting my shift at the station at nine. I have to get the coffee going or Hank gets cranky.”

“Oh, well, work comes first, I guess.” It would have been nice to have a werewolf along. You know, just in case I needed a little backup.

“Why? What’s happening tomorrow at nine?”

“I’m meeting with Francine. And I thought you might want to—”

“Hank can make his own coffee. You want to get some breakfast at Mummy’s first? We could meet there at eight.”

I hadn’t counted on that, but as much as I dreaded getting up even earlier, Birdie seemed like a good friend to have. And her access to the goings-on at the sheriff’s department was a real bonus. “Sounds good. Eight A.M. at Mummy’s.”

“It’s a date. How did you get the meeting anyway? I’m impressed.”

I relayed the conversation between myself and Bryn.

Birdie hissed. “Ooo, they’re a big bunch of hooligans. They know all about that box or they wouldn’t want it back. And if it really was just sentimental, they wouldn’t care if you’d opened it or not.”

“I agree.”

“You’re not actually going to give her the box, are you?”

I thought about that for a second. “If she knows how to recapture this mischief-making creature, then I might. But I’ve been told I’m the only one who can do that since I’m the one who let it out.”

“Francine won’t like that.” She clucked her tongue. “But then, she’s always been a bit of a sourpuss. You ask me, it’s no wonder Roger left her. She always looks like she’s been sucking on a lemon, bless her heart.”