No Crone Unturned Read online

  “I’ll still miss you.”

  He was too cute to shoot down. “I’ll miss you, too. Just think how happy we’ll be when we get a chance for another sleepover. Anticipation is half the fun.”

  “I’m only spending one night away from you. I don’t care if it makes me look like a weenie.”

  That made me laugh. “Fair enough. Just get through tonight. We’ll worry about tomorrow then.”

  “Okay, but I’m going to need a kiss to get me through this ... and maybe a little butt squeeze to hold me over.”

  I made a face. “I’m not letting you squeeze my butt in public.”

  “I was talking about you squeezing my butt.”

  “Oh, well, that I can do.”

  I DIDN’T TECHNICALLY LIE TO GUNNER. I had every intention of going home, taking a bath and hanging out with my cat. The odds of me trying to have a real conversation with Tim were slim, but he already knew that. Before I went home, though, I wanted to make a stop.

  I found Honey’s address online. Believe it or not, there was only one Honey Martelle in the area. She lived in a mobile home park on the outskirts of town. I watched the property for a long time. The units were practically on top of each other, and I didn’t want to risk anyone seeing me break in. I could’ve waited until after dark to enter but I didn’t have the patience. Instead, I parked my bike in a clump of trees at the back of the property and made myself invisible.

  There wasn’t much activity in the park. I would’ve expected more given the sheer number of homes and the time of year. It was summer, after all. I expected kids to be outside playing, riding their bikes, even throwing rocks at one another. That’s what we did during school hiatuses when I was younger. I assumed the classics stuck over the long haul, but apparently I was wrong tonight.

  I could’ve used magic to break into the mobile home, but I liked to go old school with some things, and opening a locked door was one of them. I had a kit to help me along the way. It was something I’d carried since I was a teenager, and in typical fashion I found opening doors people wanted kept shut was one of those skills that was hard to forget. Once inside, I donned a pair of latex gloves and hit the lights. Another problem with breaking and entering after dark was carrying a flashlight. It was always a dead giveaway if a neighbor saw the light bobbing about. With the sun still shining, odds were slim that anybody would even know I was inside.

  It turned out that Honey was something of a slob. I wasn’t the best housekeeper, so I could hardly throw stones when it came to other people’s living situations, but Honey was a real pig.

  Panties were strewn around the living room ... and bras ... and shorts ... and tops. It didn’t look like a sex thing. I didn’t for a second think she’d brought someone home — maybe even Brandon — and passion had overtaken them to the point they’d started ripping off clothes before they made it to the bedroom. No, this was a sloth thing. She was lazy and didn’t like to pick up after herself.

  I gave the panties on the floor a wide berth as I moved through the living room. The coffee table, which had seen better days, was littered with trashy magazines. Apparently Honey was very worried about the state of the royal marriage and whether or not Scientology was on the way out.

  In the kitchen, I found a mountain of dishes. My stomach turned when I started doing the math. There were so many cereal bowls in the sink that she’d gone at least a week without washing anything. As if to prove my calculations correct, several flies buzzed around the dishes, going after the food still clinging to the plates.

  “Gross,” I muttered, my gaze falling on the purse resting on the kitchen table. I glanced around, as if expecting someone to come out of the woodwork and chastise me for considering going through a woman’s bag. That was a line most people didn’t cross. I, however, was not most people. I didn’t even carry a purse. I didn’t see the need. I had no qualms with going through Honey’s bag.

  I sat at the table, frowning when the chair tilted to the side. I allowed myself to get distracted by the fact that the chair wasn’t level for a good two minutes before returning to her purse. The things I found inside were interesting, though mostly in a mundane way.

  She had “Slut on a Hot Tin Roof” lipstick in a fiery shade of red that made me think of the It clown’s hair. She had tampons, aspirin, small vials that were now empty but looked as if they had contained powder at one time. Her wallet held five credit cards and ten bucks. Tucked in the billfold section was a matchbook. Only one match had been removed. The business name advertised on the cover was one I’d never heard of: The Dirty Rooster.

  A strip club maybe. Perhaps Honey was moonlighting. I shoved the matchbook into my pocket as a reminder to look up the establishment when I got home and continued rummaging.

  She had condoms, several slips of paper containing names and phone numbers, and a Pez dispenser shaped like the blonde chick from Frozen. That was it. Nothing else.

  “Find anything interesting?” a voice asked, causing me to jolt.

  I whipped my head around to find Graham leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed, a dark look on his handsome features. I hadn’t even heard him enter the house.

  “Um ... not really,” I replied, doing my best to pretend he hadn’t taken me by surprise. “Just chick stuff.”

  “Really?” He arched an eyebrow. “What sort of chick stuff are we talking about?”

  “Lipstick. Condoms. Tampons. There’s some aspirin in here. These, too.” I held up the vials for him. “I’m not an expert, but I think these used to be filled with drugs.”

  “Oh, yeah? What sort of drugs?”

  He was playing with me, trying to keep from yelling until he had his temper under control. I wasn’t an expert on his moods as I was becoming with Gunner, but he was obviously angry. He would blow his stack soon. I was sure of it.

  “I don’t know. The people at the Bourbon Barn said she was on oxy.” I held up the vials and studied them. “Grinding up oxy pills to snort is time consuming, but it does get you high quicker. You’ll probably want to test the residue.” I handed over the vials, which Graham took. “If you’re going to yell at me you might as well get it over with. I can take it — and you look ready to burst.”

  “I haven’t decided if I’m going to yell at you yet,” he replied. “I’m still thinking about it. May I ask what you’re doing here?”

  “The same thing you are. You’re not convinced an animal killed Honey so you want to see if you can find something that points to a potential murderer.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” he agreed. “Last time I checked, you’re not a cop.”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want answers.” I thought about sharing the matchbook I’d discovered with him but ultimately decided against it. If pressed, I’d have no choice. For now, I didn’t even know if it was a legitimate clue.

  “Uh-huh.” Graham stepped further into the room. “Is there a reason you’re here alone? Where’s my son?”

  “He’s helping Brandon tonight. He feels guilty about not being around the past few weeks.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you that he’s chosen to abandon you this evening in favor of hanging out with Brandon?”

  “No. Why should it? We’re not codependent.”

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

  “Let me guess ... you don’t like it. You were fine when you thought it was just a fling. Now that it seems to be more, you don’t think I’m good enough for him.”

  Graham’s expression was unreadable. “On the contrary,” he said finally. “I happen to like you a great deal. You’re a little rough around the edges, but I think you’re the sort of person Gunner needs.

  “You don’t put up with his crap — and, yes, he spouts a lot of crap — and you sit there and listen to his nonsense when he needs someone to hear him out,” he continued. “I was never good at that. I think that’s one of the reasons our relationship is so ... strained. I was always worried about other
things and he paid the price.”

  I was surprised he was opening up to me. “I think you and Gunner have more than one issue keeping you at each other’s throats. The biggest is that you’re alike.”

  “We are not.”

  “Oh, you are so. The fact that you reacted the exact way he would if I said the same thing to him only proves it.”

  “Well, aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine.”

  I smirked at his response. “I don’t think you’re half as bad a father as you seem to think. You feel guilty, and maybe you should because of what happened with his mother. He gets that guilt thing from you. He was feeling it from both sides today.

  “On one hand, he felt as if he abandoned Brandon in favor of me,” I continued. “On the other, he was afraid of abandoning me tonight in favor of Brandon. He’s a bit of a martyr really. But he’s loyal and handsome, so I can live with the martyr complex.”

  Graham snorted out a laugh. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

  “I have my own issues. I don’t think there’s a person alive who doesn’t have issues. Honey definitely had some before she was taken out of this world.”

  Graham’s smile slipped. “Do you think she was killed because of the drugs?”

  That was a fair question. “I think that she was definitely killed. I don’t care what your medical examiner says, she didn’t die from some random animal attack.”

  “And you’re still leaning toward vampires?”

  “I am. I feel it in my bones.”

  “How will you prove it?”

  “I don’t know. Not yet anyway. I’ll figure it out, though.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I always do.” I sent him a small smile as I stood. “I should probably get going. I don’t think there’s much left here to discover.”

  He watched me cross the room, not saying anything until I’d moved past him and was in the living room.

  “Scout,” he called out, causing me to still. “I think you’re really good for my son. I mean ... really good. You’re definitely good enough for him. I believe it. He believes it. You need to believe it. I get that your life hasn’t always been easy and you probably have self-esteem issues after being abandoned, but you’re more than worthy.”

  The sentiment made me feel better. “Thank you.”

  “Also, if you break into another crime scene I’ll have no qualms about arresting you,” he added. “It will give me great joy to call my son and tell him he has to bail out his girlfriend.”

  I cast a rueful smile over my shoulder. “That seems fair.”

  “It’s the truth. Don’t break into victims’ homes again. I don’t like it.”

  “Fair enough.” I kept moving toward the door. “Have a good night.”

  “You, too. Try not to cry because you miss my son so much.”

  I frowned. Yeah, they were definitely alike.

  Nine

  There was no listing for The Dirty Rooster on the internet.

  I looked on every search engine I could think of.

  Nothing.

  After leaving Honey’s place, I returned to town long enough to get a coffee and consider my options. I had every intention of going home and chilling with the cat until I found the matchbook. Now that I couldn’t find a business to go with it, I was slowly becoming obsessed.

  On a whim, I cast a spell. I used my magic to see if the place really existed. I was gratified when a magical line appeared and directed me out of town. I hopped on my bike and followed it ... to the middle of the freaking woods.

  No joke. I rode my bike down a rutted and uneven two-track that was more than a little dangerous. When I reached the end of the line I found a magical fence, for lack of a better word. There was nothing else.

  “Well, this is interesting,” I muttered, scuffing my boots against the ground as I surveyed the barrier. It was a wall of some sort. I’d seen magic like this before. It was sort of like my invisibility spell, although not as good. Others couldn’t see the magic when I used it. This was sloppy ... though relatively strong.

  It needed to come down. There was something important behind it and I was determined to learn what that something was.

  I took a moment to study my surroundings. Behind me, there were only trees and bushes. I didn’t sense danger. On the other side of the barrier, however, there was magic. I had no idea what I would find, but I was salivating at the prospect of discovering what I assumed was a breeding ground for the paranormal nexus.

  I was wrong.

  I pulsed my magic at the barrier, testing it. After a few minutes, I found several weak spots. It took only a few seconds to break the force field. It shattered like glass when I slammed my magic against one of the weak spots.

  As it fell, my eyes went wide ... and I found myself looking at another world.

  “Well, well, well.” Mama Moon sat at a table sipping what looked to be moonshine from a glass jar. Several of her acolytes sat with her, and they all looked to be having a good time. “Look what the cat dragged in. I should’ve known you’d find this place eventually.”

  I pursed my lips and slowly lowered my hands.

  There was no bar. Well, not really. There was a bar top sitting in the middle of a clearing and an older man and a younger woman working behind it. Tables were spread across the clearing, a bevy of faces I didn’t recognize loitering at them. Above our heads, dainty twinkle lights cast a magical umbrella glow over the clearing.

  It smelled like power. I wasn’t sure how many of the faces I saw boasted it, but at least some of them did ... and we’re talking a lot of power.

  “You’re fixing that,” the man behind the counter announced, his hands on his hips. He was a big guy, tall, and wore a silk shirt unbuttoned to his navel. His hair, which was longer in the back than it was on the top, was streaked with green.

  “Um ... fixing what?” I said finally, finding my voice.

  “The barrier, stupid,” a woman with streaked purple hair replied. She sat at a nearby table with two other women, and when she moved her hand I saw glittering scales retract. “It’s what keeps us protected. There’s a reason random people can’t simply stumble across us.”

  “Oh.” I turned back to the fallen barrier. “You know, whoever did that particular piece of magic did a poor job. It was uneven and there were tons of weak spots. You need a uniform approach.” As if to prove that, I raised my hands and unleashed my magic.

  It didn’t take long to rebuild the wall. It wasn’t a terribly difficult spell. When I finished, I flashed a smile at the bartender. “Better?”

  He studied the new protective field and merely shrugged. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  Because I knew Mama Moon, I turned my attention to her. “Are these people about to smite me or what?”

  She chuckled in response, seemingly genuinely amused. “I think you’re okay,” she replied, patting the open spot next to her. “You should come over here just to be on the safe side, though. We need to talk.”

  Even though I’d been warned about her, I happened to like Mama Moon. Did I trust her? To a certain extent. I had no doubt that in a tight spot she would sacrifice me to save herself. That was human nature, though. Most people would react the same way. She was knowledgeable and funny. That’s what I cared about most.

  “I don’t understand why this place is in the middle of nowhere,” I offered as I sat next to her. “It’s not exactly convenient to get to.”

  “That’s by design,” Mama Moon noted, sipping her drink. Her expression was thoughtful. “How did you find this place?” She flashed a smile for the bartender’s benefit as he deposited a glass in front of me. “It’s supposed to be unplottable.”

  “It’s a long story.” I tipped the glass to the side and studied the contents. “Is this moonshine?”

  “Magical moonshine,” the green-haired man replied.

  “It’s not going to kill me, is it?”

  Mama Moon
chuckled as the man wrinkled his nose. “You’ll have to excuse her,” she said. “She’s a pain in the ass when she wants to be. She can’t help herself.”

  “That’s not true,” I countered. “I can help myself. I choose to be a pain in the ass ... and I’m not sorry about it.”

  Instead of being offended by the statement, the man smirked. “She’s exactly like you said she was, Moonie.” He grinned and shook his head. “She’s got a mouth on her, but I kind of like her all the same.”

  “I told you she was something,” Mama Moon enthused. “She’s going to fit right in out here.”

  I cast her a sidelong look. “I’m not even sure what this is supposed to be. Why hasn’t anyone mentioned this place before?”

  “It’s a secret,” she replied. “It’s not much fun to have a secret meeting place if it doesn’t stay secret, is it?”

  She had a point, but still ... . “Why don’t the others know about this place?”

  “The others?” Green Hair asked, a serious expression on his face. “Who is she talking about?”

  “The Spells Angels.” Mama Moon was grim. “Nobody wants Big Brother watching over their shoulder when it comes time to cut loose. There’s a reason the Spells Angels aren’t wanted here.”

  “Yeah.” Green Hair bobbed his head. “They rat ... and they’ll kill certain members of my clientele if they know where to find them.”

  That sounded unlikely. “I know I’ve only been here for a few months, but I haven’t found that to be true. I’ve never seen them kill anyone.”

  “Really?” Green Hair folded his arms over his chest, clearly dubious. “Didn’t you kill Lancelot yesterday?”

  Wow. There was so much in that short statement I wanted to unpack that I didn’t know where to start. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t kill Lancelot. Didn’t he die because he was messing around with Guinevere? Maybe I’m remembering the story wrong.”

  Green Hair scowled. “Lancelot was the dude who lived in the Myers Swamp. Well ... he did up until two days ago, when you apparently blew him up.”