spies and spells 02 - betting off dead (13 page)

“Coven, family, thyself.” Mom lifted her glasses. Everyone followed suit.

Chapter Thirteen

“Maggie.” The voice in the dark caught me off guard after I hit the electric garage door button to get Vinnie.

“Abram,” I gasped and threw my hand to my chest. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“I wanted to know why you didn’t meet me for our date. Was it him?” He made a dismissing gesture.

“Abram,” I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from him. I ran my finger over my pendant. “I have to go. You and I both know that we are very good friends. Not the dating type.”

“But your mom and Meme think differently.” He softened a bit.

“My mom and auntie don’t know how we are like siblings either.” I ran my hand down his arm to give him some sympathy. He shuffled his feet and took a step back.

“You know that I’m here and that I have your back. No matter what kind of trouble you get into with that guy, I’m here.” His nostrils flared and his lips thinned.

My pendant didn’t warm, so I knew he was harmless, but his actions still set me on alert. I waited a few minutes after he left the garage before I got in Vinnie.

“That was weird.” I gripped the wheel.

“He is only worried like all of us.” Vinnie revved his engine and rolled out of the garage and down the alley. “I’m assuming we are still going to Mick’s home.”

“Yes we are.” I glanced in the rear-view mirror before Vinnie took a right on Sixth Street.

In the shadow of one of the gas carriage lights, Abram Callahan’s flat, unspeaking eyes prolonged the moment. I shivered, but quickly forgot once Vinnie’s wheels spun and zoomed off in the direction of Mick Jasper’s home.

“You stay here and be good.” I warned Vinnie when I got out of the car. He was unusually quiet. I rubbed his dash. “I love you, Vinnie.”

“I love you too, Maggie.” Vinnie shut his lights and engine off. My door opened and I stepped out.

On my way up to the Mick’s apartment building, I looked up at his fourth floor spread and saw the lights on. I looked back at Vinnie and he seemed to be all tucked in for a couple of hours.

“Good evening,” Mrs. Cartmell croaked from the step of the small concrete stoop outside of the building. She lifted a cigarette to her lips and took a long draw. “I guess you are the soup du jour of the month.”

“Excuse me?” I asked and looked down on her.

“Mr. Jasper.” The words tumbled out in a stream of smoke. She cocked a brow. “Many women come in and out of his apartment.”

“Is that right?” I asked and pressed my lips together.

“Mmm, hmmm.” She hummed under another long inhale. “You are number two just today.”

“He is a very popular man.” I smiled and stepped up on the step, walking past her. The door to the building was propped open with a rock so I didn’t bother hitting the button for his apartment to let me in.

The elevator was already resting on the first floor. I got in and pressed the button to Mick’s apartment.

The elevator dinged, signaling my arrival and I stepped out. The sweet sounds of Ella Fitzgerald sang out of Mick’s open door.

“Come on in!” Mick yelled over the trumpet solo. The smell of wine, garlic, and sage.

Cautiously I walked in and saw Mick hovering over a chrome pan pouring some red wine into the sizzling garlic butter, steam billowing in the space between him and the burner. He had on a pair of jeans and a grey V-neck shirt that wasn’t tight but wasn’t loose and showed off a couple of his abs and biceps when he twisted in just the right way. His hair wasn’t parted on the side, but slicked back, exposing that adorable widow’s peak. He was barefooted. Normally I hated bare feet, but on Mick it was sexy.

“I thought I’d make some sautéed mushrooms.” He put the wine bottle up to his lips and tipped it back, taking a sip. He held it out. “You have to try this one. It’s from local winery and so good.”

It might seem strange that Kentucky, home of bourbon, would have vineyards, but they were becoming increasingly popular and popping up all over the state.

“No thank you.” I wasn’t much of a wine girl.

“That’s right!” He smacked his hands together and rushed around the island. “You are a bourbon gal.” He whisked past me and headed over to the glass wall of windows and pushed a button that raised the curtains.

My eyes drew past him and out into the beautiful starry sky and the faint lights of downtown. It was an even more magnificent view than I had imagined.

“So I’m not the first girl up here today?” I teased, but really wanted to know who the other woman was. Not that it was my business. We were just partners, right?

“ Sherry dropped by.” His voice was flat. “She had some paperwork about another case.”

“Oh.” Suddenly I was by surprise at the jealousy I felt. “Why didn’t she wait until she saw you at the office?”

“Why Maggie Park,” He slow and steady smile crept across his lips and up to his eyes. “I never figured you for the jealous type.”

“I’m not jealous” I pish-poshed the idea, but I wasn’t going to lie to myself, I did have a sudden urge to throw an ugly spell Sherry’s way. A zit or two wouldn’t hurt her too much.
“I figured you for the type to have plenty of gals up here.”

“Well, you figured right. You’re here,” He joked and went back to stirring the mushrooms.

“Do you have that specialty drink?” I asked hoping it would calm my nerves and change the subject

“I do.” He walked back over to the kitchen and turned the mushrooms on low before he reached into the refrigerator. He pulled out a glass cooler with a handle and a spout.

“It’s my secret fall cocktail.” He smiled and offered me a glass.

I took a sip, surprised at the fruity taste and how much it didn’t taste at all like liquor.

“What’s in it?” I asked wondering if Buck at The Derby had ever made it.

“Some Jamaican rum, spiced tea, orange liqueur, grapefruit juice and some fresh cut oranges with the peel still on it.” He held it up to the light. “Looks pretty too.”

A knock at the door stopped Mick. He brought his finger to his lips and mouthed, “I’m not expecting anyone and not many people know where I live.”

Slowly he walked over to the counter and pulled one of the drawers open. He pulled out a pistol and put his hand up. He walked sideways to the door with his arms extended, hands brought together by the gun that was pointed to the ground. Before he put his hand on the door, he motioned for me to move across the room so when the door swung open, I was out of view.

I grabbed my drink and gulped down the contents, hoping for a little bit of liquid courage because I knew using magic would be out of the question. I tiptoed across the room while running my finger over my pendant. It didn’t warm to the touch, which was Vinnie’s way of telling me there was no present danger.

I cowered behind a chair in the far left corner with my eyes peeping over the back.

When the person on the other side knocked again, Mick flung the door open.

“Freeze!” he screamed.

On the other side of the door stood Auntie Meme and her Spell Circle in full witch regalia.

And I was worried they were going to send Abram…

Chapter Fourteen

“My, oh, my,” Pixie chirped from under her full witch’s costume. “I can see why our Maggie is so smitten with you.” Her eyes slid past Mick’s pistol and up to his bicep. “You sure do have some big guns.” She winked.

“Auntie?” I jumped up from behind the chair and rushed over to the door. “What are you doing here?”

Mick positioned his gun in the waist of his jeans.

She passed me and moseyed on up to Mick. His biceps didn’t seem to impress her in the slightest bit.

She curled up on her toes in her pointy, black, heeled boots and came nose-to-nose with him, her pointy hat making her taller.

“I’ve come for that special cocktail you told my niece about.” She jabbed her sharp fingernail into his chest. “So where is it?”

“Auntie.” I flung my arm down to the ground. “This is embarrassing.”

“Well, sunny boy, where is the special cocktail?” Charmary shot a reproachful look over Auntie Meme’s shoulder. My stomach began to feel a little queasy.

“Are you okay, Maggie?” Flora scurried over to me. I shooed her away.

“I’m fine. I think I have a case of the embarrassments.” I threw a scolding look at each one of them.

“Where is that special cocktail?” Auntie Meme insisted and pushed her way into the depths of the apartment.

Mick turned around, facing the wall of glass, and his eyes brushed past Auntie and at the window.

His eyes drew big and his mouth opened and then closed. He closed his eyes and did a quick shake of his head before he opened them again.

“Is that an. . .” His arm slowly lifted and he pointed his finger to the window. Miss Kitty was hovering outside of his window with her wings fully extended.

“Oh, dear.” Glinda rubbed her hands together.  She continued to blow on her palm that was focused on Mick. “This is her life’s journey.” She shook her hands to her side. “My spells aren’t working.”

“Oh, Auntie.” I stumbled over to the window and hit the button I saw Mick push earlier and let the curtains draw to a close.

Mick’s head tilted to the side and continued to do so until the shade was closed and he could no longer see Miss Kitty.

“This is ridiculous.” I glared. “I told you that I’d help you find out about your package later. Not tonight.”

“Package?” Mick asked.

“Auntie here had a package delivered to the house and. . .” I stumbled for words but tried to cover up by going and embracing my aunt in a big hug. “She believes our neighbor stole it. Tonight her book club members had this wonderful idea that they’d go over and pretend to be witches.”

“’Tis the season,” Pixie giggled and tipped her hat.

“And I told her that I’d help her later.” I smiled hoping he’d take the bait.

Auntie, Glinda, Flora and Charmary didn’t find it funny in the slightest bit.

“About that cocktail.” Auntie Meme seethed.

“Sure.” Mick went to shut the door of his apartment. Mrs. Cartmell was standing in the elevator with the door popped open with the toe of her shoe. “Good night, Mrs. Cartmell.”

“Thank you!” Pixie chirped and gave a finger wave before Mick slammed the door.

When he walked over to the kitchen and got a few glasses out of the cabinet, I took the opportunity to fuss at her.

“How could you?” My voice cracked with a sardonic weariness.

“Here you go.” Mick pushed five cocktails across the island and a refresher for me.

Auntie Meme and the Spell Circle swept across the room in a fluid motion, making me let out an exhausted sigh.

“That’s Maggie’s.” Mick pointed out when Auntie put her finger in my glass and stirred it before she dragged it across her tongue. “Tell me about this package.”

I grabbed my drink and eased down onto one of his couches knowing that he’d just opened the door to Auntie’s hate-fueled rant on Mrs. Hubbard.

“You know, you can go to the post office and request the receipt where the person signed to get the package.” Mick was full of information that perked up Auntie.

“A signature was required?” Auntie’s lips curled like a snake uncurling. Her eyes twinkled. She and the Spell Circle whispered something between them.

“How old is your Auntie?” Mick came over and asked me.

“Don’t ask,” I muttered knowing that telling him she was over two hundred years old wasn’t going to go over too well and I’d look as crazy as she and her Spell Circle did.

“Okay. Thank you for the special cocktail. They Spell. . .um. . .” Auntie’s brows pinched. She pulled a small bottle out of the pocket of her cloak. She grabbed Mick’s arm and poured some of the contents on the burn the pendant had sizzled into his forearm earlier in the day. “You are going to have to stop hurting yourself.”

His jaw dropped.

“The book club girls and I must be going. We are discussing Jane Eyre’s
Pride and Prejudice
.” Auntie Meme gathered the girls.

Neither Mick nor I encouraged them to stay. We’d yet to talk about the case.

“Be home soon, Maggie dear.” Auntie twiddled her fingers at me once she got the Spell Circle out into the hallway. I waved back and Mick shut the door.

“Meme is a very interesting woman. How did she know about my arm?” He looked at the burn and it was practically gone. He rubbed his finger over it.

“She’s old. She’s lived through a lot.” I smiled and looked away from him.

Mick glanced back over to the window. “Did you see that owl? I think it was one of those rare ones from like the jungle I saw on Animal Planet.”

“I didn’t see anything.” I shrugged and walked back over to the island and sat down on the stool.

“What did you think about the auction?” he asked. He stirred the mushrooms before he removed it from the flame and placed the entire pan on the counter with two forks. He forked one and stuck it in his mouth.

“I’m not really sure. I just can’t wrap my head around a crime that hasn’t happened or we don’t know if it happened.” It was an observation. I took another sip of the cocktail. “Riley didn’t have many good things to say about the Byrds. I thought they were nice.”

“The Byrds bid and won against them on Rails and Nails. That is fighting terms.” Every time he looked at me, my heart did a flip flop.

This time I took a gulp instead of a sip, hoping the alcohol would take care of the flip flop.

“Why would they get so mad?” I couldn’t wrap my head around his thinking.

“Money. Greed.” He slid up next to me and scooted out a stool to sit.

He sat down next to me. He put his hands around the glass and juggled it. The ice clinked back and forth. With each shake of his glass, he let out an unforgettable natural smell that was only a mix of musk and woodsy cologne. Had he put that on for me? I didn’t recall him smelling so good before.

“Rails and Nails seemed to be the most favorable to win the Derby from that auction. The Byrds will spend a lot of money to get Rails and Nails prepared to be picked as the favorite from the collective. Then if Rails and Nails is chosen, everyone puts in the pot and that’s where the doping is supposed to happen.” What he said made a lot of sense, but what stopped me in my tracks was that this was a long-term investigation.