Witchin' Impossible, page 5
“Yes,” Ford said. “We are.”
“I’m not a shifter. I have no animal to trigger.”
“I don’t understand that part either, but you do still smell my scent, right?” He leaned to my ear, his hot breath warming my cheek. “You think about it all the time, don’t you?”
He wasn’t wrong. A thrill zipped through me as cinnamon filled my senses. Still, I opened my mouth to rebut him, but my phone rang, saving me from having to make words. “Kinsey here,” I said without even checking out the caller’s name.
“Haze,” Lily shouted. I could hear music and yelling in the background. “I think you better come out to Eden’s Road. Tiz is in trouble.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “On my way.” I clicked the phone off and looked at Ford, swallowing the lump in my throat as his sparkly blue eyes hypnotized me. “I have to go now.”
“I’ll drive,” he said, standing up.
“Fine.”
CHAPTER 6
The drive out to Eden’s Road was intensely quiet. I didn’t know how to respond to Ford’s revelation. Had he really not married or mated or whatever because of me?
“I hope Tizzy is okay,” I said, because it was a safe subject.
Ford gripped his steering wheel tightly. “Are we really not going to talk about what happened between us in high school?”
“Nothing happened between us in high school,” I finally said.
“That’s not completely true.”
“I’m a witch.”
“Yep,” he said.
“You’re a bear shifter.”
“You aren’t wrong about that, either.”
“How is this possible?”
He shook his head. “Do you think I know? I’d heard it was possible. My mother told me that sometimes mating is a bond between two halves of one soul, and it doesn’t always follow the rules.”
“You told her about us?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t ask a question about cross-mating with witches. She said it’s so rare it’s almost unheard of, but rare doesn’t mean never. Unless you have a better explanation for it.”
A teenage witch’s lovesick angst gone wrong, maybe? I didn’t say it out loud. Instead, I shook my head. “We come from two different worlds,” I told him. “It would never work.” It didn’t stop me from wanting to climb him like Mt. Everest and enjoy the view from the highest peak. But like Mt. Everest, the chance of me surviving the climb was slim. He was one big boy…er…man.
Ford nodded solemnly. “I have made my peace with being alone.”
My chest squeezed. Why did I feel so guilty? It wasn’t my fault he thought I was his mate. Hell, I’d been an awkward, nerdy witch during my teen years, better with math and science than witchcraft. I couldn’t have magicked a pimple away, let alone cast an accidental love spell. How in the world had this happened?
As we pulled up to the party, there were at least twenty cars lining the gravel road on both sides, three kegs sat in the open field, along with metal tubs full of ice and harder alcohol. I spotted Lily near an organized group. She jumped in the air with her hand up and gave me the “hurry up” wave.
I looked at the rowdy crowd and back to Ford. “I hope you brought your gun.”
When I got to Lily, she pointed at the spectacle at the center of the crowd.
Tizzy was circling a beaver, and he was making all kinds of hissing and growling noises at her. She kept dancing around like a prize fighter, jumping and moving every time the beaver tried to whack her with his tail.
A woman, wearing an inside-out red sweater, faded blue jeans, smeared coral lipstick, and a frantic look on her face, kept yelling, “Leave her alone, Frank. It meant nothing. It was nothing. Just some harmless fun.”
Goddess, Tizzy. What the hell had my familiar done now?
Lily quickly said, “Tizzy was doing shots with Colleen, and for a five-pound animal, she was holding her own, let me tell you. Then Tizzy told Colleen she was the most beautiful woman she’d ever laid eyes on, and that she’d always wanted to kiss a beaver, which I thought was funny at the time, but the next thing I knew, Colleen had shifted, and she and Tizzy were rolling around in the grass.”
“Then Frank showed up.”
Lily nodded. “Yep. Then Frank showed up.” Her expression was aghast. “I tried to stop it, Haze. I really did, but you have no idea how hard it is to get between a squirrel and her beaver.” She giggled.
I think my BFF had been doing shots as well. “Tiz!” I shouted. The squirrel snapped her gaze to me, which gave Frank the Beaver the opening he needed. His flat tail whacked Tizzy upside her little squirrel head and threw her a couple feet.
“Hey!” Ford yelled. The crowd parted for him. I think they were just excited that someone else was joining the fight. “Break it up,” he said. “I’d hate to have to run you all downtown on a Friday night. Judge don’t arraign any cases until Monday. It’d be a shame to screw up your entire weekend.”
People backed up. But Frank Leggert, that jealous little rodent, would not be deterred. He lunged at Tizzy, who was still dazed from the smack.
“No,” I yelled. “Leave her alone.” I grabbed at his back, his fur slick and really hard to get any kind of hold on. He squirmed away from me, but not before I slammed a boot on his ass.
He shifted back to human, a sorry excuse for a man, naked and nursing a bruised ego and butt. “That really hurt, you stupid witch.” He stood up, posturing like he was going to do something about it, but suddenly backed down. “Keep that rat away from my girl,” he said then turned his venom on Lily. “Unless you all want to end up like Danny.”
Before I could zap his stupid mouth, too, he hurried off after the rest of the group.
I stomped my foot and threw my hands up in victory. “That’s right, douchenozzle. Run!”
Lily shook her head and pointed a finger at something behind me. I turned around to see a very imposing Ford standing with his arms crossed and his eyes trained on the running man. Well, I guess I knew why Frank had a change of heart about coming at me.
“I had it covered,” I said.
Ford grunted. “Uh huh.”
A pitiful squeak shifted my focus from the hulking hunk. “Oh, Tiz!” I made my way to the fallen squirrel and picked her up. “Speak to me, Tiz. Tell me you’re okay.” I shook her tiny chest.
She heaved a sigh, a large feral grin forming on her face. “I like beaver,” she said. “A whole lot.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at Lily, then at Ford. “She’s fine.” Still, I cradled her in my arms just in case.
My drunken best friend shook her head, remorse in her bloodshot eyes. “Gosh, Haze. I really am sorry. It all just happened so fast.”
“She’s starved for company,” I admitted, effectively letting Lily off the hook. “I don’t know if a brick wall could have stopped her.”
“Hey, Ford,” Lily said shyly. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“We’re fine,” I said sourly. I turned to Ford. “Thanks for the backup, but I think we got it from here.”
“Do you want a ride back to the diner for your car?”
“Lily can take me.” I looked at my friend. She hiccupped and waved at Ford, a silly smile plastered on her cute-as-a-button face. “Or I can drive her. I’ll just get my car in the morning.”
He shrugged. “Good idea. I’d hate to have to run in your friend for drunk driving.”
Damn it. Why did he have to sound so mad at me all the time?
Oh, maybe because you rocked his world with a sloppy drunken kiss. Still, I wouldn’t take the blame for him being alone. One, I didn’t know. And two, I didn’t magically make it happen. Or did I? I’d been so infatuated with Ford… No, I wouldn’t even think that. My magic was unpredictable, but I would have known if I’d tried to cast a soul-joining spell on him. Even so, I wasn’t a shifter. I shouldn’t be smelling any kind of mating scent.
I placed Tizzy on my shoulder and looked at my tipsy friend. “Come on, Lily.” To Ford, I said, “Thanks for the information about the case. I do appreciate it.” He stared at me as if waiting for something more, so I added, “We’ll talk about the other stuff later. I promise.”
“Fine,” Ford said. “Get home safe.”
I took Lily’s keys from her and dragged my two pals to Lily’s truck. I didn’t want to think about Officer Hottie or the bombshell he’d dropped on me. I wanted to think about Danny and the case. Frank’s threat made me think that maybe the douche-y beaver knew something he hadn’t reported to the police.
I heard Ford’s truck back down the road. I didn’t look back. I missed him already, and that wasn’t the kind of thing that was going to help in my investigation.
“I think it’s time we talked to a few of Danny’s friends.”
“What a sweet, sweet beaver,” Tizzy drunkenly crooned.
“Stop saying beaver,” I said.
“Beaver, beaver, beaver,” she sang.
“Oh, dear Goddess.”
Lily put her hand on my arm. “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.” She gestured to the partying shifters. “At least until people are sober.”
A squeaky hiccup made me nod. I’d never get any real answers with a drunk familiar on my hands. “Fine. Tomorrow.”
Lily handed me the keys. “You drive.”
“I have beaver fever,” Tiz sang. “Baby, baby, baby, oh.”
“No more partying for you.”
“Spoilsport.”
“That’s me.” I stroked Tiz’s head fondly. “Special Agent Spoilsport.” I had a feeling she wasn’t the only one who thought so.
CHAPTER 7
I had several hours to kill before my meeting with the coalition, so I tracked down the addresses to a few of the witnesses, including one Carla Wells, a raccoon shifter, and Danny’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. Lily dropped me at Lolo’s so I could get my car. I drove to Fantasy Lane in a sketchy part of town, which, given the current state of Paradise Falls, meant it was really bad. Carla’s place was a small one-bedroom trailer on cinder blocks. A rusty orange hatchback was parked out front near an overflowing trash barrel.
I knocked on the door. A thin young woman, with large brown eyes and a cigarette between her index and middle finger, opened the door and raised her brow at me. “If you are selling, I’m not buying, honey. This is Paradise, and I’ve got all I need.” Her tone was wary, not sarcastic.
“I’m Special Agent Hazel Kinsey.” I flashed my badge. “I’m investigating Daniel Mason’s death. I believe you knew the victim.”
Her hard edge softened. “Come in.”
We sat at a small round kitchen table. The vinyl chairs were yellow, a bit worn, but clean. Her easy invite told me she wanted the investigation, so I didn’t mess around. “According to the police report, you were the last person to see Danny alive,” I said.
“Probably.”
Carla blew smoke in my face. I waved it away. “Did he say anything that might give you the impression he was in danger?”
“Danny and me,” Carla said. “We didn’t talk much about personal things. Mostly, he just liked to talk about cars.” She dabbed the glowing cigarette butt into an overflowing ashtray and blew out the last puff. “He really liked cars. He’d been working on an old Chevelle. He called her Sweet Beast. It really got him going, talking about that car.” She snorted a laugh. “He used to razz me hard about my piece-of-crap rust bucket out there.” Her eyes grew wistful. “I really miss him.”
“You really cared for Danny.”
“Of course, I did,” she said. “He was my mate.”
Had Lily known? I’d just found out about the shifter-mate thing the night before, so I wasn’t sure if this was something they would have told anyone else. “Did his family know?”
Carla shook her head. “I told my mother, who told me it was impossible. A cougar shifter can’t mate with a raccoon shifter. She made me promise to never speak of it again.” Her hands were shaking now. “He smelled like lemon sorbet,” she said. “He said when he was around me, the world smelled like lilacs on a hot summer day.”
She looked me dead in the eyes. “I don’t care what they say, Danny’s death wasn’t related to drugs. He’d quit doing them a couple of months before he died. He said as long as he had me, he didn’t need to get high.” She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, then reached back and searched the small kitchen counter behind her and grabbed a napkin. She dabbed her eyes and nose. “If you are serious about finding out what happened to him, I want to help.”
Her pain turned her from witness to another victim in my estimation, and suddenly, I added her name to the list of people in my life who needed justice. The not-doing-drugs was a twist, though, because the autopsy report said he’d had trace amounts in his system. If he’d gone two months, the amount should have been zero.
“Are you sure he was off drugs?”
Carla nodded. “We both were.” She absently placed her hand on her stomach. “I’d even quit smoking.”
Danny had died six months ago, but Carla’s light touch on her flat tummy had me wondering. “Were you pregnant?”
She let her hand drop to her side, then grabbed another cigarette from an open pack on the table. She tapped the filter end on the surface. “We were making plans,” she said. “He was taking care of me. Or at least trying to. He’d even bought me this place for us, so we could start our lives together.” She raised her gaze from the cigarette to me, her eyes haunted with what could have been. “I’m not pregnant now.”
The way she said it made me feel ill. I could tell she was done speaking on this topic, so I moved on to my next question. “Did Danny have any enemies? Anyone he was fighting with prior to his…death?”
“Oh, sure.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Danny fought with all sorts. He got rousted by the police at least once a month whether he was doing anything wrong or not. And Clayton Driver, the owner of Junkyard Dog, said Danny owed him money for parts. He tried to collect from me after, but like I told the fool, you can’t squeeze blood from a rock.”
“How much did he owe Clayton?”
“Five grand.” She sheeshed. “It might as well have been five million. Even though he was trying, Danny never had that kind of money.”
“Do you think Clayton would have killed Danny over the debt?”
“Clayton wants his money. You can’t collect from the dead.” She shook her head. “Besides, Clayton would have had him work off his debt before doing anything violent.”
“Anyone else, Carla?”
“Not that I can think of.” She bit her lower lip. “I heard Danny say something about the Arete once.” She clenched her fist, crushing the unlit cigarette. “He sounded real scared.”
“Who?”
She took another cigarette from her half-smoked pack. “I don’t know. When I asked him, he clammed up about it. He made me swear to never speak of it again.” She waved her lighter. “But I told the cops after his death, and here I’m telling you.” She shook her head. “I never was good at doing what I was told.”
There had been nothing in the file about Clayton Driver or any person or group called the Arete. Why would Mitchell, the lead detective on the case, leave that part of the interview out of his reports?
“The Arete—”
Carla cut me off. “I have to go, Agent Kinsey. I clerk at Gabe’s Green Grocery, and my boss said he’d fired me if I was late again.”
I nodded. Jobs were scarce, especially in a small town. “If you think of anything else,” I handed her my card, “you’ll call me?”
“Sure,” she said, taking the card and tucking it into her purse. “I…” She chewed her lower lip for a moment then turned her gaze to mine. “I’m glad someone’s looking into what happened to Danny. There’s more of us that care than don’t.” She shrugged. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
“No one does,” I agreed. Though if I got ahold of the bastard who killed him, I might make an exception.
It was unseasonably cool for late June, so I’d worn a jacket in the morning, but by the afternoon, it had warmed up quite a bit. I took it off when I parked just outside Junkyard Dog. A note fell out of the pocket. “Thank you. L.” I smiled. She used to leave me notes in my pockets when we were kids. Stone Age text messages.
Really though, I should have been the one thanking her. Lily had saved my bacon more times than I could count when we were girls.
I’d called Lily after I’d left Carla’s. I didn’t tell her about the mating bond between her brother and the raccoon shifter, nor did I tell her about the implied pregnancy. She was already mourning enough loss; she didn’t need more on her plate. My friend told me she knew who Clayton Driver was, but she hadn’t known Danny owed him money. The junkyard owner was a werecougar like Lily and Danny, and he had been a business friend of her father’s. She’d really wanted to come with me to talk to the man, but I convinced her to stay home and take care of Tiz. The squirrel was struggling to recover from a whopping hangover. She hadn’t even remembered getting hit in the face by a beaver’s tail.
Junkyard Dog, ironic name since Driver was a cat shifter, was down a rough gravel road on the Merry County line. Half the property was on Lister, the county that bordered ours, which would have made it a nightmare for law enforcement, considering jurisdiction would always be in question. Which made it a perfect location for criminal activity.
The strong scent of dust and rust made my skin itch. Even in broad daylight, the place, with all the vehicle skeletons stacked up like bodies after a battle, gave me the creeps. There was a dilapidated trailer with a sign with the word “management” on the front. Just past that was a large building, about half the size of a basketball court. It had two large sliding doors, and one side was partially open.
The office was closed and the door locked. I yelled, “Hello. Is anyone here?” When I didn’t get an answer, I strolled to the big metal building. “Hello,” I said again.
