Chapter Fifteen

"What kind of loose ends?"

The frustration in Joel's voice was unmistakable. It was Monday morning, and in the real world outside Eldred's Cove, it was time to get back to work. I'd been so consumed with mermaids and vampires and missing money that I'd actually forgotten what day it was until his number lit up my phone.

"Still working through the estate stuff," I said, watching The Shack redecorate itself. It had had the courtesy not to start until well after dawn, at least. Windows had been shifting along the walls for the past five minutes, and the front door had moved from one side of the place to the other. "And the lawyer suggested I stick around to manage the bar until we can figure out how it all shakes out."

"Bar?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. My grandmother owned a bar. Very popular down here." I ran my hand through my hair. Since it was a weekday, the Cove wouldn't open until later in the afternoon, so I had the day to run errands, including visiting the bank. "Anyway, I'm keeping tabs on email, and should be able to make meetings virtually."

"We really need you here, Jo. The client likes a hands-on touch, you know that. You won't be able to provide that from…where are you again?"

"Alabama," I said. "Small town between Mobile and Pensacola. You've probably never heard of it."

"Well, when do you think you'll be back?"

"Give me another week or two," I said, praying it wouldn't take longer than that.

We spoke in more detail about some outstanding issues, and at the end of the call, Joel seemed somewhat confident I wasn't disappearing into the ether and halfway placated about my impromptu two-week sabbatical.

"Hopefully, two weeks," I muttered to myself as I hung up. The envelope of money from the weekend was sitting on the counter, ready to be deposited. Next to it was Big Jo's wand.

I hadn't so much as touched it since placing it there the night before. Duke Pinfish and the mermaids hadn't shown up again, and even though I didn't know exactly how I'd banished them, I had a feeling it was only a Band-Aid. Duke Pinfish had a stormy temper, and the last thing a beach bar needed was to be on the bad side of a merman who controlled the water.

Although he was the biggest worry, the other revelations from the weekend hung heavily in my mind. Carver's offer to Maria the night she died. Cal's involvement in everything. Big Jo's mysterious missing money. I couldn't help but feel that if I could untangle one of these mysteries, the rest might reveal themselves, too.

Since I had to go to the bank anyway to deposit the cash, I figured that was a good place to start.

I left The Shack to its redecoration and headed to the Enchanted Cat Cafe for a coffee and a biscuit. Kit's dad was in the kitchen, frying up eggs and slinging hash. The front room was full but seemed back to its normal size.

"Hey, Jo," Kit said, appearing from the back with a fresh pot of coffee. "Sit anywhere you like. Hear you had a busy weekend."

"I'm sure you did." I took a seat at the end of the counter. "Coffee and biscuit, please."

"Dad, Jo wants two eggs, bacon, and grits," Kit said, winking at me. "You gotta regain your strength after doing all that spell work."

I glared at her. "Har har."

"So, you're now a full-fledged witch? What happened?" She put a mug in front of me and poured coffee into it.

"I'm not. It was one spell." I cleared my throat, picking up the coffee mug. "And it was a fluke. I didn't cast it. It just…cast itself."

"Spells don't cast themselves, Jo," Kit said, using her wand to float a plate full of pancakes to a table across the room.

"I don't know what to tell you." I leaned on the counter. "Because the spell certainly didn't come from me." In fact, none of the times the wand had worked seemed to have come from me. "This wand has a mind of its own, I guess. Like its former owner."

"Wands also don't do that," Kit said with a look. "But if you're casting, and it's not doing what you want, you should take it to the wand shop. The last thing you want is for the wand to cast the wrong spell when it counts."

I didn't have the heart to tell her it already had. But it wasn't a bad idea. The wand shop was next to the bank, so it would be easy to pop in afterward.

A plate of eggs, bacon, grits, and a biscuit landed next to me, not in front of me, but before I could ask Kit about it, Daniel sat and grabbed the sweet tea as it settled itself on the counter.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning," I replied, keeping my tone even. I still wasn't sure what to make of his friendship with Lewis, so I didn't want to give him anything that might end up in the newspapers tomorrow.

"I wanted to apologize again for barking at you on Saturday morning," he said, digging into his breakfast. "I don't remember the conversation at all."

"Seems odd that you don't," I said. "I mean, you're a lawyer. Shouldn't you be up at the crack of dawn or something?"

Kit, walking by, let out a snort of laughter. "Danny? Up at dawn?"

"Maybe if I don't go to sleep," he muttered.

"Well, don't come to The Shack, then," I replied. To his inquisitive look, I added, "Big Jo's house has been having a grand old time waking me up early the past few days. It doesn't like me very much." Kit put down my plate of breakfast food, and I snatched the biscuit with a pointed look. "Headed over to the bank. Gonna ask them about the mortgage."

"Why?" he asked. "They won't tell you anything without that death certificate."

"Daniel, this is Eldred's Hollow," I said with a hearty roll of my eyes. "I can't go anywhere without being recognized. If there's anywhere in the world I could get away with bending the rules, it's here."

~~

"Sorry. Can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?" I scowled at the middle-aged witch across the bank counter from me. "You gladly took the money I gave you and deposited it."

"I can deposit funds, but until we get a legal document indicating you're the owner of the account, I can't help you." She lifted her glasses and stared at me like I was annoying her. "Is that all you needed today?"

"Is there a manager I can speak with?" I asked. "It's kind of important that we find out what's going on."

She sighed and tapped her wand against a piece of paper. A moment later, another middle-aged female witch appeared, this one wearing a smart suit and her graying hair in a bun. After a moment, I recognized her as the co-op owner's wife, Sherry.

"Little Jo!" She walked toward me with outstretched arms. "Tom said you were back in town. You're a sight, aren't you? Spitting image of your mother." She kept a firm grip on my shoulder. "Come on, let's go chat in my office."

The elder witch all but frog-marched me into her office and shut the door. She smiled at me as she sat at her desk and folded her hands together.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, tilting her head. "Things haven't been easy over there at the Cove lately, have they?"

"You could say that again," I replied with a snort. "I was hoping you might be able to tell me some details about my grandmother's accounts. You know she took out a big mortgage on the Cove, right?"

Sherry nodded.

"Well, the money's gone," I said. "And neither Aimee nor I know what it was used for. Meanwhile, we've got this huge payment, and…" A pleading smile came to my lips. "Do you think you could help me figure out what's going on?"

"Do you have her death certificate?" Sherry asked.

"N-no, but—" I cleared my throat. "It's ordered. Daniel said it'll take a few weeks. But I figured, since you know who I am, and—"

She tutted and shook her head. "I really wish I could help. I do, honestly. But we were bought out by a larger bank two years ago. Bunch of kappas out of New Orleans own us now. They want everything done by the book." She shook her head. "They'd be on my broomstick like polish if they found out I was giving out information."

"But it's my information," I said. "I'm the only heir."

"And I know that. But they don't." She tilted her head again, pity on her face. "I hope you can understand that."

I did, in the non-magical world where people didn't know me from Lilith. But here, in Eldred's Hollow, where everyone seemed to know everything about my business whether I wanted them to or not, being told I couldn't access my grandmother's information without proper paperwork was startling.

"As soon as you get that death certificate, we'll start that process. I'll even get it going for you, fill out all the information you need." She stood, gesturing toward the door. "Goodness knows, I've got all of it."

"You can't even tell me where the money went?" I asked. "That's all I need to know, really. I'd like to recoup it so we can satisfy the mortgage. Or at least figure out what half a million dollars paid for."

"I'd be happy to tell you."

I brightened.

"As soon as you get the death certificate."

~~

I supposed I could've stayed and argued more, but it seemed fruitless. I thought about calling Daniel to complain, but he'd probably tell me the same thing. There was nothing more to be done about the financial quagmire I'd inherited.

So the only thing to do was to walk inside the wand shop next door.

With all the magical creatures and ingredients being grown around Eldred's Hollow, it was no wonder the local wand shop bore a sign declaring they had the "freshest ingredients." Considering witches used the same wand for decades sometimes, I didn't see how "fresh" ingredients would make a wand better or worse. But everyone had to have a gimmick, I supposed.

The building was very similar to the others—brick, painted, large front window. But there was something whimsical about it, even from the outside. The awning that hung over the sidewalk seemed to dance in a non-existent breeze. Inside, the back wall was filled with tins bearing hand-scribbled labels describing their ingredients. On a back table, several cauldrons were bubbling, presumably with a unique concoction of ingredients to be used to enhance the wands' powers. Next to it, several wands still needing their potion and finishing polish sat ready to be doused.

"Hello?" I called, seeing no one. "Anyone here?"

The back curtain rustled, and Lois Boneham appeared. She had dark brown skin and black hair wound into tight braids that dangled down her back. "Good—oh!" She brightened. "Jo Maelstrom. How the heck are you?"

The Bonehams had been in Eldred's Hollow since before even my family had shown up and started the bar. Obviously, a town full of witches would need someone close to manufacture wands, and the plethora of wand-making ingredients added to the draw. Lois was a year or two older than me and would be the fifth Boneham to take on the mantle—or had already, perhaps, since I didn't see her mother.

"I'm good." I gestured around me. "What about you? Are you running this place now?"

"Please," she scoffed. "My mother's still the head honcho. But she has Mondays off, so she deigns to leave me in charge for a short period." She rolled her eyes affectionately. "I don't think she'll ever retire."

"I get it." I'd never thought Big Jo would retire either. Turned out I was right.

"What can I do for you?" she asked. "I hope… Maybe time to make you a new wand? I couldn't help but notice you didn't have one at the memorial."

I didn't have the heart to tell her I'd chucked it into the sound. Her mother had made it for me and had been one of the loudest voices egging Big Jo on to push me more. "Ah, no. Sorry. But I have been using Big Jo's wand a little, and I think it's malfunctioning."

"Impossible." She held out her hand.

I gave her the wand, and she inspected it like it was the inner workings of a computer. She tilted it this way and that, tossing it in the air and catching it, dangling it from her forefinger and thumb from the pointed end and the handle.

She placed it in a wand holder on the counter. "No, it's working well. Quite active, that one. Is it one of ours?"

"I suppose so," I said. "She's had it as long as I can remember. So there's nothing wrong with it?"

"Not that I can tell," she said. "Which is a little puzzling in and of itself."

"Why?"

"Wands who've been with their wielder that long tend to form a bond, and many times the wand will cease to function when that witch or warlock dies. I've heard of some who've been working with very powerful witches for decades actually bursting into flames. But this…" She lifted a brow at me. "This one's very much alive, and if it's working for you, it seems to have recognized you as the owner."

"I wouldn't call it working," I said, rubbing the back of my head. "More like…"

She chuckled. "What's it doing when you use it?"

I felt ridiculous talking about the night Maria died, or the nights thereafter, but I did need to figure out what was going on. Lois listened intently, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow until I was done explaining the curiosities.

"You've always had trouble with magic, haven't you?" she said.

I nodded, my face burning. "I don't even know why I'm asking you about this. Clearly, the problem is me. It's always been me. I should just continue not using magic—"

"You're a witch, Jo. It's in your nature to want to wield," she said gently. "Obviously, witches have different levels of magic. And sometimes the right combination of ingredients in the finishing potion can bolster a lackluster amount of magic that another wand didn't recognize."

"I mean, I lost count of the number of potential wands they fitted me with," I said. "This one's producing something, just not the spell I intended."

"Mm." She ran her finger along the wand. "It's definitely reacting to something in your magic, that's for sure. Transportation spells are quite difficult to do. There's a reason most witches don't even attempt them when a broom will do fine. You're lucky that you've stayed in one piece doing them."

"I'm not trying to do them intentionally," I said, after a moment. "In fact, the last time it happened, I was trying to levitate the trash to go outside."

She continued inspecting the wand, touching it lovingly and watching it as if it were speaking to her, and giving up some great secret. "Let me ask my mom. This is a bit of a puzzler. Both the age of the wand, and that it decided to pick a new owner after decades with the old one." She lifted her finger. "Would you mind terribly if I kept it?"

Everything in me screamed to take it with me. "N-no. I don't—"

She lifted her hands in surrender. "Say no more. I know a bonded witch when I see one."

"Bonded?" I laughed nervously. "No, it's not like that."

"You looked at me like I was taking your left foot," she replied with a grin. "It's okay. Maybe you two need to get to know one another. It's so used to speaking in Big Jo's language that it's not understanding what you're saying, you know?"

I nodded slowly, and a little hope flared in my chest. "Do you think…maybe if we spent more time talking…I might be able to use it like a normal witch?"

She shrugged. "I can't tell you that. But there's no harm in practicing a little more."

There actually could be a lot of harm. I swallowed, pulling the wand back to me. "Thanks for the information. I really appreciate it."

"I'm still going to ask my mom about it. I know she's been dying for something to research lately that's not the latest combination of wand potion ingredients."

"I would've thought the best combinations would've been well-known by now…"

"Well, for the most part, sure," she said. "But with all the new technology, cars, Wi-Fi, cell service, satellites—all that can interfere with magic, you know? So they're always looking for something that might make magic work a little better in the modern era." She shrugged. "It's like adding grains of salt to a timer, in the grand scheme of things. But you know, she likes to stay busy."

I nodded.

"If I find out anything, I'll pop by the Cove," she said. "You're working there now, right?"

"For the moment," I said, looking down at the wand. "Thanks again for your help."