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Authors: Tonya Kappes

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BOOK: A Charming Crime
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I drew back to
take in his expression. “You can’t leave the police department here.” I was
pretty good at reading him all these years, almost psychic, but the sun cast a
shadow on his face, making it hard for me to see if he was serious.

“Shhh.” He held
his finger up to his lips. “I said down low, not out loud. I will be by tonight
to tell you about it. And it really is something you need to consider.”

He definitely
had my wheels turning as I stood in a puddle of water created by the fire
department in their efforts to save the shed, only their efforts had been a
waste. Jordan informed me that the fire chief told him the shed was a total
loss. As if I needed to be told. All that was left was the cement foundation.
Who knew that Thea Sinensis mixed with Camellia was so flammable? I did now.
Thank God, because the cure I had been making had been for me. I could really
see Mr. McGurtle’s face if I had been blow up.

I swear I saw
Mr. McGurtle smiling all the way from his front yard.

“Excuse me!
Excuse me!” a woman yelled from the other side of the fence. She waved when she
caught my eye. “Yes, you!” She pointed at me.

I was glad to
see everyone but she had left. The show was finally over and I could get back
to work. . . except I couldn’t. Not without the shed.

The lady was
someone I didn’t recognize. The floral A-line skirt was throwing me off a bit,
but the black, lace-up booties were definitely awesome. The closer I got, the
more she reminded me of a younger version of Meryl Streep, the long blonde hair
was long and wavy like Meryl’s. Even her nose was small and pointed, only she
had hazel eyes and sweeping lashes.

“Are you Darla
from A Dose of Darla?” She pointed her laced gloved fingers towards my home.

“I’m Darla’s
daughter, June Heal.” I put my hand out, but she didn’t take it, so I pretended
to rub them together. “Darla passed away a few years ago. Are you a friend?”

It wouldn’t have
been unusual for someone out of the blue to show up and visit with Darla. She
had friends from all over. Darla was sort of a gypsy type. She believed in free
spirit, holistic living, and open imagination. Darla taught me to be kind to
everyone and everything.

“No.” She
scrunched her nose. “Did you take over the business?

“I did.”
Something in my gut made me wearily suspicious of her.

“You sell
something I might be interested in.” She lowered her thick dark lashes, and
stared at me.

“I, um, sell
homeopathic remedies,” I muttered uneasily.

Out of the
corner of my eye, I could see Mr. McGurtle making his way back across the yard,
as fast as his short legs could carry him. Through the herb garden. . .again.

“I was
interested in selling them in my store.” She pulled a business card out of the
top of her glove. “Please come pay me a visit if you are interested. Good day.”

I took the card
from her fingers and we held a gaze for just a moment. Her eyes wandered over
my shoulder. I turned around to find Mr. McGurtle giving her the wonky eye, which
was his signature “don’t mess with me” look.

When I turned
back around, the strange woman was already in her car, pulling away from the
curb.

“Do you need
something, Mr. McGurtle?” I sighed walking past him toward the house.

Meow
, Mr. Prince
Charming sat on the top wooden porch step, dragging his tail back and forth. He
batted at the cicada darting in the air.

The bottom of
his tail was always black from all the wagging he did. It amazed me how,
otherwise, he was always pristinely white. I’d assume keeping clean would be
difficult for most outdoor cats. But Mr. Prince Charming was not like any other
cat I’d ever come across.

“I promised Darla
I’d keep a close eye on you,” Mr. McGurtle said, stomping after me.

Rolling my eyes,
I made it up on the porch before he yelled, “I think you are causing more
trouble in your adult life than when you were a kid.”

For a moment I
stood still, trying to think of an answer while Mr. Prince Charming did figure
eights around my ankles, but decided to bite my tongue. It was easier not to
argue with Mr. McGurtle.

“Oh, Mr. Prince
Charming, must you?” I bent down and flicked the dead cicada into the grass
next to the steps with all the other dead ones he had killed. I swear he’s on a
mission to whack every cicada in Locust Grove. If the cat only knew the town
was named after the nasty bugs—he’d be in heaven.

I flung the screen door open, and Mr. Prince Charming
ran into the house before me. I closed the door behind me. This was generally
how Mr. McGurtle and I ended all of our conversations.

 

Chapter
Two

“You created quite
a stir today,” said Oscar from the other side of the front porch screen door
with a brown sac of our favorite Chinese food restaurant in his hands.

He looked so
different without his uniform on. It was hard getting use to seeing Oscar turn
from a scrawny, lanky boy into the muscular, hunk he’d become.

Sometimes it was
kind of awkward thinking about how it would feel to run my hands through his
close cut dark hair, and squeeze a little bit of those muscles. And then I
remember how weird it would be since he was really like a brother more than a
friend. Still. . .he was easy on the eyes, and single.

I opened the
door, and took the bag. I could already taste the egg roll.

“That’s how you
greet me? Don’t you even care how I’m doing or how I feel about my chemistry
lab going up in flames?” I stuck my nose in the bag and smelled the yummy
goodness.

“I’m sure you’ll
be just fine, June.” He snatched the bag from underneath my nose and took it
into the kitchen. “Tell me, were you careless or tired?”

The wooden
floors moaned when Mr. Prince Charming jumped off the old radiator that sat
just inside the door. He was a sucker for good chicken fried rice. He danced
down the hall with his long tail wagging in the air.

“Neither.”
Inwardly I shuddered at the thought of my carelessness. Though I knew he was
right. I hadn’t been sleeping well. “I’m just a tad bit tired.”

“Are you having
nightmares again? Or should I say the dark circles under your eyes tell me you
are having nightmares again?” He dropped down on the built-in bench and the
cushion made a swoosh sound when all the air flew from its seams.

Mr. Prince
Charming took it as his cue to jump up and see what he was going to have for
dinner, never mind the full bowl of cat food on the floor.

“It’s that
apparent?” I leaned and looked into my reflection in the microwave. I tapped underneath
my eyes to see if it would help blood flow.

“Is it the
same?”

“Yep, the
usual.” I got a couple of sodas out of the refrigerator, careful for him not to
see my face. If I knew Oscar, he was going to study my every move, just like
Darla did.

As far back as I
could remember I was having the same nightmare of me standing at the edge of a
foggy lake looking down into the green murky water and seeing hands wrapped
around someone’s neck. I always wake up before I can make out whether the
person was a man or woman, and it was always the back of the person. The hands
are never attached to arms, which really freaked me out.

No matter how
much “fairy dust” Darla gave me, the nightmares still came in full force.

“And what are
you doing to do about it?” Oscar popped open the can, and then pushed Mr.
Prince Charming off the sturdy farm table.

Hiss.
Mr. Prince
Charming batted air in front Oscar.

“That is what I
was trying to do when I blew up the shed.” I snickered as I remembered that I
had folded the torn up paper with Darla’s “Mr. Sandman sprinkles” recipe and
stuck it in my pocket right before the explosion. “I might’ve used a little too
much Aconite.”

I took the paper
out, unfolded it and ran my hands over top it to try to get the creases out.
Thank goodness I put it in my jeans, or it would’ve been ashes by now. I
glanced over at the counter where Darla kept an old journal with all her
remedies written in it, thinking I should probably either memorize them or make
another copy just in case.

30 c of Aconite,
6c Kali phos, 6c Nat suph, 3x passiflora,
I continued to count the six
ingredients needed on my fingers before Mr. Prince Charming batted at my egg
roll while standing on his hind legs.

“No, no,” I
shooed him away. “Go eat your food.”

That was the
problem. Since it had always been the two of us, and it was hard to cook for
one person, I had always included Mr. Prince Charming.

“How old is he
anyway?” Oscar scowled.

“Good question.”
I thought back to first time I’d ever laid eyes on Mr. Prince Charming.

Actually, it was
a long time ago. It was on my tenth birthday. We didn’t have a lot of money and
Darla had gotten me a birthday cake that read
Happy Retirement Stu
. She
didn’t even bother scraping Stu’s message off. She was good a pretending it
wasn’t even there, nor the fact that there was a manager’s special sticker on
it.

All the same, it
was a treat because Darla never let me eat any type of sweets growing up.
Anyways, Mr. Prince Charming was unlike any other stray cat in our
neighborhood, in which there was a lot of stray cats. He had on a faded collar
with a tiny turtle charm dangling off it. The turtle had one green emerald
stone for an eye and the other one missing. I didn’t care. It was beautiful.

Oscar and I
asked around if the cat belonged to anyone, no one claimed him, and he just
continued to hang around. Darla didn’t mind so he stayed. I got him a new
collar and kept the charm for myself. Oscar had given me his mom’s old bracelet
and I hung it from there. I’ve never taken it off my wrist.

“Well, he’s
definitely defied the nine lives belief.” Oscar couldn’t resist Mr. Prince
Charming rubbing his tail along his calf. He bent down and ran his hand along
the cats back.

“Yes, he has.” I
smiled remembering all the times Mr. Prince Charming has beat the odds over the
past fifteen years and didn’t seem to age a bit.

“I see Izzy
stopped by.” Oscar put Isadora’s card back on the table, and then continued to
work on his chopstick skills, but wasn’t having any luck. “Where’s a fork?”

“How do you know
her?” I asked as I pointed to the card after I gave him a fork.

“That’s what I
was going to tell you about,” he said as he stuffed his mouth with a big forkful
of rice.

“She showed up
after the fire debacle.” I picked up the card. I still hadn’t decided if I was
going to see her not. I knew I had to make a business decision whether to grow A
Dose of Darla or keep it small. “She wanted to talk to me about putting my
remedies in her shop. How do you know her?”

I didn’t even
know where she was located. The business card said Whispering Falls, but I’d
never even heard of the place. I had even tried to Google it early in the day,
but nothing came up.

“It was the strangest
thing. I was driving and came upon this small town.” Oscar’s strong jaw line
clinched, he grew serious. “Whispering Falls is nothing like I’ve ever seen.
It’s its own village of houses, shops, visitors, and is nestled in the woods.”

“Where is it?” I
asked. He shrugged, but still didn’t answer my question. “I tried looking it up
and couldn’t find it.”

If it was really
as happening as he thought, maybe it was something I should check out. Going
into one store wasn’t much work. How many homeopathic remedies could one little
village sell?

“It’s only
twenty or thirty minutes away. Depending on how fast you drive.” He smiled,
showing off those pearly whites his uncle Jordan had spent so much money on.
“And you drive fast.”

He was lucky.
Darla did good taking me to the dentist every other year. Thanks to Oscar and
his uncle, they keep me in floss and toothbrushes. Luckily, I had pretty
straight teeth. According to Darla, I had gotten that quality from my dad.

“I don’t let
grass grow under my feet, that’s for sure.”

“I pulled into Whispering
Falls to check it out. Izzy’s place was the first place I walked in. She was
asking all sorts of questions about my uniform. She said the council was
looking for a cop. We talked a little bit. She asked if I knew anyone who was
into home remedies and I told her about you.”

Meow, meow.
Mr. Prince
Charming was begging for attention. I put a little rice in my fingers and let
him lick it off.

“So you gave some strange woman my
address? I thought you were supposed to protect and serve?” I nervously
laughed, half kidding, half not.

Meow, meow.
Mr. Prince Charming jumped up on the table and curled
his tail around my nose.

“What is wrong
with you tonight?” I grabbed him and put him on the floor. He batted at the
dangling charm from my wrist. “Stop.”

BOOK: A Charming Crime
12.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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