PEASEBLOSSOM resided in a tiny building that had once been a carriage house but had been updated to include plumbing, shelving, and a lovely bay window that currently held a colorful display of Thanksgiving arrangements. Fortunately, at the moment, Leo and Cole were the only patrons.
The bell above the door rang cheerfully when they entered, which seemed a silly formality since no one in the place could have missed their entrance. Avery smiled at them from behind the counter—once upon a time that had made Cole’s heart beat double time, but he’d spent enough time in Leo’s company that he was becoming immune to extremely attractive men—and then something went whap whap whap, and Leo hit the floor as a knee-high gray blur ran out from the back of the shop.
“Hi,” Cole said to Avery.
“Oh my God, hello, beautiful,” Leo said to the dog.
Avery’s smile widened, as though nothing in the world could possibly endear him so much as someone loving his dog. “Good morning, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”
Using the T-shirt, Cole set the vase with the flowers shoved haphazardly back inside on the counter, hoping Avery could see well enough to know he shouldn’t touch it. “We’re here to find out who sent these flowers.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Tinkerbell had flopped over to beg for belly rubs. Leo didn’t seem inclined to stand up. Maybe the combination of puppy magic and lemon fizzies was too much for his body to process.
Avery looked at the vase. Then he looked into the cooler on the wall to his left. Sure enough, it contained daffodils—unusually out of season—and forget-me-nots as well. But his eyes, so dark a blue they were nearly violet, held only confusion. “These were mine,” he agreed, touching a finger to one of the blooms. He kept his hands well away from the vase. Then he gestured with his head to where Leo and Tinkerbell were getting better acquainted.
“Leo.” Cole resisted the urge to poke him with the toe of his shoe.
Leo stood up, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the counter. “Sorry! Hi. I like your dog.”
Cole tamped down on a teeny, tiny jealous part of him. Leo hadn’t taken to Niamh like that. Then again, Niamh was a familiar, not a pet, and talking animals were probably a bit of a shock. “Leo, Avery. Avery, this is Leo,” he said. “He’s a client. The flowers showed up at his place.”
Avery gave Leo a once-over, and that teeny, tiny jealous part of Cole grew into a small jealous part. “Nice to meet you,” Avery said, friendly but professional. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Leo’s shoulders slumped. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
Avery shook his head and touched the daffodil again. Cole swore he could see the water level in the vase sinking as the flower bloomed more fully. “I recognize the flowers—they came from here. But I don’t remember selling them, and the vase—that’s definitely not something I carry.”
Too much lead in the glass, Cole thought. And too old, and definitely too enchanted to be sold somewhere that catered to mundanes.
“What do you mean, you don’t remember selling them?” Leo frowned at Avery, then looked at Cole. “How does he not remember? Were they stolen?”
“It’s a possibility,” Cole admitted. “No security system?”
Avery shook his head. “Just the old-fashioned kind.” He waggled his fingers as though to indicate the occult. “Didn’t think I’d need more, in this town.”
“You probably don’t.” But it did preclude catching the perpetrator on video. “I don’t suppose the day’s cash-out was off?”
“Actually, now that you mention it.” Avery eyed the bouquet, then flipped through a spiral-bound notebook next to the register. “Yeah, I had extra. Approximately what I would’ve charged for a bouquet like that, but I didn’t write it in my receipt book. See?” He handed the book over.
Leo took it before Cole could and held it close to his face, squinting. “Actually I think maybe you did write a receipt.” He took a pen from the wire cup on the desk and poked at the torn-off bits of paper still stuck in the coils. “Looks like someone took your carbon copy.”
Avery groaned. “My sister’s going to give me so much shit for not switching over to digital when she bugged me about it.”
Cole wasn’t sure that wouldn’t have resulted in a fried hard drive, but he kept mum.
“Why don’t you remember, though?” Leo asked.
Cole and Avery exchanged glances. “Memory charm.” The room seemed to dim a bit as Avery made the realization, and the flowers in the vase shriveled.
“Memory charm,” Leo repeated. He looked at Cole, expression halfway between jaded and imploring. “That’s not just a made-up thing from Harry Potter, I’m guessing.”
“Sorry.” This whole situation was a mess. Cole didn’t blame Leo for feeling overwhelmed. But in the meantime, he had a suspicious occurrence to investigate. He turned back to Avery. “You want me to have a look?”
Avery shrugged. He didn’t seem hopeful that Cole would find anything, but he didn’t seem particularly concerned either. Maybe his kind had a sort of spidey sense for when they were in real danger. “Be my guest.”
The remnants of the spell still clung to him, even through his own aura, though they were sloughing away. But Cole doubted even Avery’s natural abilities would undo the work the charm had already done. “Well, it was definitely a spell. Not enough of it left to finger a suspect, though.”
“It was worth a shot.” Avery frowned at his receipt book, then set it aside. “It seems strange, doesn’t it? Sending a protection bouquet with a cursed object?”
“It’s definitely strange,” Cole said grimly.
Something pawed at his leg, and he looked down and smiled at Tink, who was grinning up at him with her sweet pit bull smile and leaning on his leg as though she thought he needed a hug—or more likely, that she needed butt scritches. Cole obliged.
Leo sighed and knelt to pet her under the chin. “Now what?”
Cole knew where he had to go, but he couldn’t take Leo with him. Not this time. Not yet. He let out a long, slow breath and prepared himself for the inevitable. “I’ll drop you at my place. There’s something I have to do alone.”