Chapter Twenty-Three

By the next morning, the story of Stuart's betrayal and subsequent aquatic arrest was the talk of the town. No one knew the whole story, of course, and it had given me the greatest pleasure to tell Lewis to talk with my seagull familiar if he wanted to know exactly what had happened. I was too grateful that the mermaids were no longer at war with us to ask Pinfish how he'd managed to communicate with Jimbo.

All charges against Aimee were dropped immediately, too. Vinnie didn't seem too thrilled that a hapless witch had done his job better than he had, but I tried to be graceful in my victory.

Unfortunately, Daniel said it would take weeks, perhaps even years, before we got Stuart back and could even begin to reclaim the money he'd stolen. While the mermaids had been given the all-clear to return to the Cove and spend their money, it still meant we were barely making ends meet.

"You should rent the property out then," Daniel said, as I ate my weight in grits, eggs, and biscuits that morning, the sheer relief of having solved the mystery unlocking my appetite. Kit was pleased, of course, and kept bringing me more food as soon as my plate was empty.

"Rent out the property?" I frowned. "I'm not letting that blood-sucking vampire—"

"Not to him," Daniel said. "To someone who needs a place to live. You could rent The Shack and the cabin out for a good price, and that should be enough to cover your note for the mortgage." He paused. "You are planning on going back to Atlanta, aren't you?"

"I am, but…"

"But?" Kit stopped, a plate of pancakes floating behind her.

"But I'm coming back," I said, ducking my head to hide a smile. "Fates know Aimee needs help, and there's still a lot to untangle here. I'm not leaving her with a mess to deal with by herself, and—"

"Mm-hm," Kit said with a knowing smile. "Sure thing, Jo."

"What about your job?" Daniel asked.

"I need to repair things with my boss a bit, but when we talked yesterday, he said he doesn't want to lose me," I said. "So we're going to do a trial run of me working remotely and traveling back and forth. I can't say it'll be a permanent solution, but at least until we figure everything out." I put my head on my hands. "And an extra paycheck would certainly help make ends meet."

"Then at least rent out the cabin," Daniel said. "It's got several bedrooms, right? I'm sure someone's looking for a place."

"As it so happens," Kit said, giving me a sideways look, "I'm actually looking for a place. Not that I don't love living with my parents but…" She leaned across the counter. "Living and working for them? Not my favorite."

"I heard that, Kitty."

She winced and kept walking with the pancakes.

"I don't know if I can rent out the cabin," I said to Daniel. "I haven't set foot in there since my parents died. I doubt Big Jo had, either. It's too…" I shivered. "It's too much."

"Then ask for help," he said. "I'll come. I'm sure Kit will, too. Aimee surely owes you several thousand favors. The whole of the Cove would probably be happy to—"

"No." I shook my head. "No, I need to… You and Kit are fine. Aimee, too. It's hard to explain—"

"You don't have to," Daniel said, throwing down a fifty. "Got yours today."

"This seems to be a recurring theme," I said. "I pay, you pay. It's almost like a—" I stopped myself before I said "date" because it certainly wasn't that. "Thank you. And thank you for all your help."

"Well, next time a warlock has you tied up in a boat, be sure to send your seagull my way," he said, walking toward the back. "Be happy to come rescue you."

"Mm-hmm, I bet he would," Kit said, walking by with a carafe of coffee.

"Hush."

~~

Before I left, Kit reiterated that she would very much like to rent the cabin from me, but understood if that was too much to bear. Still, I couldn't help but see the utility of the solution. It was putting into service an asset I owned free and clear. The only requirement was for me to face my fears.

I stood on the front porch for at least half an hour, unable to take a step forward. What might I find in there? A house, completely the same as it had been eight years ago? Was there still food in the fridge? What about my bedroom, was it—

"You won't know until you open the door, Jo," I muttered to myself, walking forward and putting my hand on the knob.

It turned for me—good ol' familiarity charms—and the door swung open.

I exhaled loudly.

There wasn't… Everything was gone. The couches, the artwork, even the chairs under the island. But in the center of the living room was a single stool with an envelope addressed to me in Big Jo's handwriting.

Dear Jo,

I hope I'm writing this letter years before it's ever read. But I have a feeling my time here on this plane is coming to an end sooner than I'd like, and since you aren't answering my phone calls, I thought a letter would suffice. I only hope you don't spend weeks dithering and avoiding the cabin before you find it.

I cleared my throat. Even in death, Big Jo was trying to get me to be more than I was.

I wanted to give you insight into some things that are happening. I've kept them close to the vest because I'm not sure who I can trust in town—and you know how people talk here. The first is that Cal Reaves intends to destroy Eldred's Hollow. He's buying up farmland like it's going out of style, and he's offered me more and more money for this land and the Cove. I've told him to take a hike every time, of course. No amount of money would get me to sell my beloved bar.

I got wind that he was pressuring Maria Greenfin—you'll remember her as a mermaid who spent time on the shore, but now she's the leader of the sound mermaids. She controls a spit of swampland due east of the Cove, and I have it on good authority that Cal wants to buy it to build a bridge between the Beach and the interstate, and it would run right through the Hollow. We can't let him do this. Our town would cease to exist and everyone in it would scatter.

To that end, Stuart and I have started a consortium of witches to gather funds to buy it from Maria. Right now it's just the two of us, but I'd always hoped there would be more. Stuart, of course, would lose his livelihood if this bridge were built, and I know plenty of other witches would rather get burned than see our beloved town turned into another one of Cal Reaves's strip malls. The money has been pooled into an account at First Hollow Bank on Main Street, under a false name, of course. The last thing we want is for word to get out and the vampire to undercut our deal.

I know you've moved on, and Eldred's Hollow isn't in your life plans anymore. But I want you to know that even though you don't think so, you belong here. I plan to leave the Cove and everything to you, and I hope you'll consider keeping it and coming home for good. Selfishly, I hope that it isn't my untimely passing that brings you here, though.

Enclosed, you'll find my will and ingredients for the Witchwhacker machine. The latter is a closely guarded secret, so don't be sharing it with any long-toothed individuals who'll try to replicate it and sell it at a fancy bar. The former, I hope, will help with solving any issues with my estate.

You are, and have always been, my favorite granddaughter. My only wish is that I could've seen you grow into the witch you're destined to become.

All my love,

Big Jo

PS: Over the summer, I finally got around to cleaning everything out. I know you don't love The Shack, so if you ever decide you'd like to move back home, this place is ready for you.

I wiped away tears, knowing if I let them continue, I'd dissolve into a puddle on the floor. I folded up the letter and tucked it into my jeans, taking extra care with the Witchwhacker recipe and the will. Daniel had started in motion the process to formally put all the property in my name, and this would only help solidify things.

I left the cabin, texting Kit that the place was all ready for her to move in whenever she wanted, and getting a string of exclamation marks in return, and walked the length of the property back toward The Shack. It swung open the front door to greet me, but as I walked inside, the couch was gone.

"Where's my bed?" I said, a little warning in my voice.

It rustled a curtain, and when I peered through the window, the couch was sitting in the field.

"Very funny," I said.

The sliding glass door opened, and outside, the rickety stairs slapped against the risers.

I followed the request, walking up until I reached the top floor, and I could've fallen over from shock.

It was completely different. And…familiar? A new bed, but somehow…my bed from my home in Atlanta sat in the center of the room. Artwork plucked from my walls, too. The bedside tables, the lamps, the clothes in the closet. All mine.

"I'm going to assume it was a charm," I said, eyeing the house warily. "A charm set to begin when I said I was moving home. Not that you're a powerful enough house to literally summon my things from five hundred miles away."

The curtains rustled.

"Mm-hm." I turned on my heel, before stopping and smiling. "Thank you. This all looks lovely."

The planks of the deck rattled.

"Where do you think I'm going?" I said with a shake of my head.

~~

Aimee was taking a well-deserved day off, so it was up to me to open the bar. The wand worked perfectly, rolling up the windows, starting the Witchwhacker machine, getting all the chairs off the bar. All our monthly renters had returned too, so I took my time chatting with them. Every one said they'd be happy to pay the full month, except Billy, who seemed furious that I was on good terms with the merfolk again.

Just before we opened the bar, a large, white truck pulled up, followed by an expensive black car. Cal Reaves stepped out, Dietrich emerged from the truck, and before long, the familiar was pushing a large white fridge toward the Cove.

"What's this?" I asked, keeping my distance in case they meant to stuff me in it.

"I've come to deliver the blood you asked for," Cal said, sauntering into the bar as if he owned it.

"Thank you," I said with a thin smile. I'd forgotten all about that. "I'm sure that'll come in handy."

"Such a horrible turn of events," he drawled, sitting down at the bar. "Stuart Eaves was such a nice fellow. Wonder what made him turn so…" He gestured in the air. "Hateful?"

"Money makes people do crazy things," I said, picking up a rag and wiping down the bar.

"So I hear you're staying," he said. "What about that nice job in Atlanta?"

"Allowing me to work remotely," I said. "At least for the moment."

"Remotely." He shook his head. "This world is moving too fast for me sometimes."

"Seems like I'm here for the long haul," I said, hoping he was getting my meaning without me having to spell it out. "Which probably means your deal with Duke Pinfish is off."

He gave me a sideways look. "Whatever do you mean?"

I could've kicked myself. I'd been privy to that conversation accidentally. "Just that…well, you were still trying to get that land from Pinfish, right?"

"As I told you, I can't comment on pending negotiations," he said. The twitch in his mouth told me Pinfish had declined his offer. "But you know, I'm a very patient man. I eventually get what I want, even if it takes a few hundred years."

"Well, best of luck to you." I put both hands on the bar, sending a message. "Because this bar's going to be in Maelstrom hands for a while yet."

He smiled, showing off his fangs. "Enjoy the blood, Ms. Maelstrom. I'm sure I'll be seeing much more of you in the coming months."