Chapter Seven

"Fates alive!" I screamed as I opened my eyes the next morning.

Something warm and wet was on my face. I swatted, and the object flew to the ground. As my vision cleared, and my brain reset, I realized it was a piece of buttered toast.

The Shack curtains rustled, as if offended I could possibly have been startled by such a thoughtful gift.

I rubbed butter off my face, still unsure if this was The Shack being nice or mean or something in between. But there was coffee in the kitchen, so I could absolutely forgive the sentient house for the rude wakeup. It wasn't as if I'd slept well anyway.

My dreams had been plagued with visions of Maria's body, of her arguing with Carver Briggs, and, grotesquely, what it must've been like for a mermaid to die on land like that. Not wanting to dwell on any of that, I chugged a cup as fast as it would go down my throat and stared at the pond beyond The Shack.

A scaly blue head popped up and stared back for a moment before unfurling a long, slender tongue to snatch a dragonfly zooming by. Then it disappeared back into the water.

"Well, that's new," I said, pouring the rest of the coffee from the carafe into my mug.

I turned to face the living room and tapped my fingers against the warm mug. My laptop sat open on the floor, but without internet, it was as good as dead. I probably needed to get to the Enchanted Cat to connect, but instead I turned my attention to the papers I'd brought home from the Cove last night. When I couldn't sleep, I'd started going through them in more detail until exhaustion finally took hold.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, placing my coffee mug next to me and picking up where I'd left off. This morning, these papers made as much sense to me as they had the night before. The mortgage had been taken out three months ago, and the money withdrawn to an unknown account via wire transfer three days later. I'd been able to find statements of her personal checking and savings account, and the money wasn't found in there. It was just…gone.

Complicating matters further, if my math was correct, the money coming into the Cove was roughly equal to the money going out. This last month, there hadn't been more than five dollars left at the end of each month. Even with (I assumed) magic to keep the lights, air conditioning, and water pump on, there was still a running tab with Eldred's Hollow Grocery for the meat, magical liquor that she ordered from the distributor out of New Orleans, and the general maintenance that came with the marina.

I sifted through the papers four or five times, until I finally gave in and accepted I wasn't getting the answers I needed. I hadn't even gotten around to submitting the request for the death certificate, so I turned to my computer to tackle that first before remembering why it was turned off in the first place.

"Okay, we'll tackle that first," I muttered, pushing myself to stand.

Although I was very sure Big Jo had been lying to me about getting internet, I still wanted to give the old bird the benefit of the doubt, so I scoured the small downstairs for a modem or router. Nothing.

I stepped outside, gazing up at the telephone pole next to The Shack and the wire that led to the house. Lights and pumps could be run by magic because they were self-contained. But things like telephones and internet needed to connect to the larger world, hence the pole. I did know my aged grandmother had a landline because that was how she'd called me every Sunday.

The wire from the pole to the house seemed to be for the telephone, but that might work. I doubted there were fiber optic cables running through the farmlands of Alabama, so DSL would probably be my only option. At least I wouldn't have to call someone about running a line down the property.

In the meantime, a biscuit at the Enchanted Cat didn't sound so bad.

I dressed quickly and got in the car, throwing my laptop into the passenger seat. As I drove up the dirt road, my gaze wandered to the bright red berries that dotted the brambles around the pond—blackberries. Big Jo would make all kinds of sweets from the blackberries we'd pick, from using the leaves in potions to blackberry cobblers and jam. But they were delicious even off the vine, the juice warm from the sun.

Beyond the pond, there was the log cabin, where I'd grown up. The day my parents died, Big Jo had locked the front door and told me to come stay with her. I hadn't set foot in it since, and I had a sinking suspicion Big Jo hadn't, either. If I opened the door now, using the key that was also still on my ring, I'd almost certainly find everything exactly as it had been.

I shivered. Not a theory I wanted to test.

No, those ghosts were better left buried. And the log cabin could stay…well, locked up and unused, if that was how Big Jo had left it. I had enough problems without adding more to my plate, and reopening wounds from my childhood didn't sound like a good idea.

What did sound like a good idea was working through the checklist Daniel had given me so I could get back to the real world.

~~

The Enchanted Cat Cafe was busier than the day before—and somehow looked bigger, too. No…was bigger. Yesterday, there had been three tables in the center and six booths. Today, I counted no fewer than twenty tables and ten booths, all filled with happy customers drinking coffee and inhaling everything from cheese grits to pancakes to hash browns.

Kit was breezing from table to table with a huge grin on her face, with plates coming and going from the kitchen by magic, sometimes trailing her, sometimes floating on their own accord. But as soon as I walked in the front door, all conversation and activity stopped as every gaze landed on me.

I realized, a little too late, that by now, every witch, warlock, demon, vampire, and werewolf probably knew what had happened at the Cove. And I was, perhaps, the topic of conversation on everyone's lips.

"Morning, Jo," Kit said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Breakfast?"

"Please," I said, my voice coming out strange. "Need to do some work."

"Bar's open." She nodded toward the front of the room. The bar was not, in fact, open, until she pointed her wand at it. The wall rearranged itself, and the bar stretched until it was large enough to accommodate another setting, complete with a stool popping up out of the ground.

"Thanks," I said, clearing my throat as I walked through the center of the room, feeling the gazes and curiosity of everyone there. Thankfully, it was a short walk, and I was careful not to catch anyone's eye. Once I reached the chair, I quickly opened my laptop and began typing, hoping and praying the conversations would start up again.

I opened my laptop, but before I could even look at connecting, I felt a stare on the back of my neck. When I glanced around, Bobby Cutter, a warlock who owned one of the fishing boats in the marina, was glaring at me with a toothpick between his teeth. Ironically, he was also wearing a Witch's Cove hat, but his love for my grandmother didn't seem to extend to me.

"Can I help you?" I asked, spinning around in the chair and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yeah, I gotta bone to pick with you. Now that you're the owner of the marina."

"I'm not…" But I supposed I was. At least for the moment. "Yes, Bobby, what is it?"

"I need you to do something about these infernal mermaids. Your grandma was too soft on them. Letting them get away with wrecking boats and causing trouble."

"Strange thing to say, considering their leader died on the beach last night," I said, quirking my brow.

"Good." He sniffed. "That Pinfish fellow's too strict with the fishing quotas. Used to be we could go out and catch what we could. Now, I gotta have a darn chart to keep straight what fish we can catch and when."

I failed to see how any of this was my problem, but I'd dealt with clients long enough to know how to placate irate idiots. "What would you like me to do?"

"Talk to who's in charge down there now and tell 'em the next time they put a hole in my boat, they'll end up like Greenfin."

"I wouldn't be saying that too loudly," Kit said, walking by and placing a plate of pancakes in front of him. "Considering we don't know exactly what happened to her."

"Murder, obviously." A shrill-voiced woman with perfectly curled hair put down the paper she was reading—and based on her expression, I knew which one it was. "Someone had it in for Maria Greenfin. We have to figure out who it was."

"Well, you know she and Carver were on the outs again," said an older man beside her. The mark on his shoulder said he was a werewolf, but I didn't recognize him.

"And Carver has quite the attitude," the snooty-faced woman replied.

"Don't go blaming werewolves for this, Dottie," Kit said, pouring more coffee into her cup. "For all we know, it was another mermaid who did it."

Dottie, clearly a witch based on the wand by her left hand, picked up the coffee and sipped it. "I'm sure they'll do what they do best and bury the truth under the sea."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Clearly, the truce my grandmother had created between the mermaids and witches wasn't quite as settled as I'd thought.

"Ignore them," Kit said, casting them a nasty glare. "They're starved for interesting conversation." She paused in front of me and leaned over the counter. "Seriously, though. Are you all right? I heard you were the one who found her."

I nodded, taking another long swig of coffee.

"Eat that, please," Kit said, pointing to the untouched breakfast. "You can't subsist on coffee alone."

I scowled and took a bite of toast. "Yes, mother."

The front door opened again, and Daniel walked in wearing a short-sleeved, button-up plaid shirt, slacks, and boater shoes that had seen better days. For a lawyer, he certainly didn't dress the part—maybe a benefit of working for himself.

Kit pointed her wand, and the bar once again extended, adding another stool. He thanked her as he put down his messenger bag beside me. Almost immediately, a plate of eggs, bacon, cheese grits, toast, and a stack of pancakes appeared in front of him, along with a sweet tea.

"Thanks, Kit," he said, grabbing the tea and taking a swig.

"No coffee?" I asked, eyeing his plate. "Also, that might be the fastest service I've ever seen."

"Don't be too impressed," Kit said, walking around the front of the counter to refill my coffee. "Danny comes in every morning at exactly ten o'clock and gets exactly the same thing. Dad has it ready for him."

Daniel flashed her a grateful smile and dug into the food.

I returned to my laptop and finally logged in, going to connect to the internet. There were several Wi-Fis available, and none of them seemed to originate in the cafe.

"That one," Daniel said, pointing to the corner of my screen. "Password is password, lower case."

"Thanks," I said, typing it in. "And thanks for your excellent timing. Thought Bobby Cutter was gonna deck me before you got here."

He frowned and looked behind him to where the fisherman was glowering into his pancakes. "Why?"

"Apparently, he wants me to do something about the mermaids," I said, looking at the notes app in my phone to start working on the checklist.

"Search for the Alabama Bureau of Vital Statistics," he said, sipping his sweet tea.

"What?" I turned to him.

He pointed to my laptop with his glass. "Alabama Bureau of Vital Statistics."

I did as instructed, and when the website came up, he directed me to click, click, click, click until I reached the form to fill out the request.

"Glad I ran into you," I said after a moment. "Though it does seem rather strange to be using the regular Alabama state resources. Doesn't Eldred's Hollow have anything like that?"

He shook his head. "There's a big gray area where the magical world and regular one collide. Lots of things the magical folk didn't want to have to create a new system for, lots of things we need to get the job done. Especially in my line of work. I'm having to navigate both sides of the courts."

"Must be fun," I said, filling out the form with my driver's license and other information.

"I'm not bored, that's for sure," he said.

"What do you do, mostly?" I asked.

"I call it door law," he said. "Basically, anything that walks in the door. Property law, family, estates on occasion."

"Any criminal law?" I asked as a figure in blue landed on his broom outside. Vinnie. Something told me he wasn't here for the grits.

"Not specifically," he said. "Do you need a lawyer for that?"

"I hope not," I said as Vinnie walked through the door. I used the non-existent magic in my veins to will him to go to anyone else, but his gaze landed on me.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"The tests show she was doused with mermaid-stunning potion. We need to search Witch's Cove for evidence. Thought you'd like to be there when we did."

"O-of course," I said, after a moment.

No one in the diner looked surprised, so they'd obviously all heard the scuttlebutt about her cause of death. I, however, thought it incredibly odd that he was giving me a heads-up and asking me to come with him.

But when he beckoned me to follow him and stood in front of his broomstick with a sidecar for a second person, I held up my hands. "I'm not getting on that thing."

"It's a broomstick," he deadpanned.

"I don't ride broomsticks," I said with an equal amount of deadpan. "Remember?" I pulled the keys to my rental out of my pocket. "I'll follow in a good ol' fashioned car, thank you."

"I'm coming with you," Daniel said, walking out with his briefcase in hand. "And I got your tab."

I'd completely forgotten about that. Not that Kit would mind if I dropped by later to pay it. "Thanks."

"Well, hurry up. We're not waiting for you," Vinnie said, hopping onto his broom and taking off.

"Why do you think he came to me first?" I asked Daniel.

"Probably best if we do what he says," Daniel said, opening the passenger door to my car and getting in with his briefcase. "Let's go."

"Don't you have a broom?" I asked, getting in beside him.

"I do," he said with a nod. "But if I used it, we wouldn't be able to talk."

"We need to talk? About what?" I turned on the engine. "Are you my lawyer now?"

He smirked. "Was I ever not?"

"I mean, not officially," I said. "And I'm not sure I can afford your hourly rate…"

"Let's call this a pro bono consultation until we know what you're up against," he said. "Especially since I have a feeling Vinnie has a suspect in mind. There's no other reason he'd have come to you first. Probably doing you a favor to make sure someone's there."

"I mean, Aimee's there. I…" I paused, my eyes widening. "You don't think Vinnie's going to arrest her, do you?"

"They found mermaid-stunning potion on Maria," he said. "Aimee's rumored to carry it. If they find it on her, they'll have enough cause to arrest her."

He looked worried. Aimee was curt and brusque, but she wasn't a killer.

Was she?