Cryptic Blend Read online

  It didn’t take me long to dive into the various bracelets, necklaces, and rings. I was definitely going to have to purchase the matching bracelet, because the emerald green hue was absolutely my favorite color with the occasional blue sapphire accent. I was just about to turn away after having chosen three bracelets and one necklace to make this an easy transaction when a specific ring caught my attention.

  I slid the piece of jewelry onto my right ring finger and held up my hand to get a better look, unsure if it suited my taste. For being just costume jewelry, the gem certainly looked like a real sapphire. Of course, these days with lab-grown stones, one could hardly tell the real thing from plastic. My mother loved real sapphires, so I could usually tell the difference between those and the fake lab-created jewels.

  This time?

  Not so much.

  Uh, Raven.

  I slowly lowered my hand, having heard that tone a bit too much in the past seven months. It was usually when Leo was about to tell me a spell I’d cast hadn’t gone quite as planned or when there was a ghost drifting about the area.

  Now that I think about it, the palm of my hand had become a bit warm.

  Any time my palm harnessed a bit of energy from the earth, it was usually a telltale sign when danger was near. I’d chalked up this time to the lone ray of sunshine I’d purposefully held my hand into in order to get a better look at the fake sapphire, but I was no longer interested in the accessory. I began to work the ring off my finger in preparation that I’d need to leave the garage sale sooner than anticipated.

  Had Leo seen another ghost?

  Was someone walking nearby who didn’t have good intentions?

  You might want to take that particular ring off your finger a bit faster than that.

  The ring?

  Leo was worried about costume jewelry?

  Costume jewelry? My dear Raven, I will have you know that ring is very much the real deal. One of a kind, as a matter of fact, and worth tens of thousands of dollars. It belonged to one Caroline Abigail Whitley, the wife of an original founder of Paramour Bay.

  Leo’s memory certainly wasn’t failing him now.

  I’ve heard of people making astonishing finds at garage sales, but my luck didn’t usually run in that direction. Of course, those individuals were usually professionals who had an eye for antiques or relics from generations past. I’d likened myself to the casual customer on the “Antiques Roadshow” who ended up owning a long-lost Renoir painting.

  Karen was asking fifty cents for a ring that was probably worth tens of thousands and thousands of dollars. I could make the choice of paying her and walking away from the table with an absolute steal, but that’s exactly what it would be—stealing.

  You have this situation all wrong, Raven.

  “Karen, are you sure you want to sell this ring?” I asked, carrying my purchases in one hand while hold the ring up with my other. “I think this sapphire is real.”

  It wasn’t like I could tell her that I knew the ring belonged to Caroline Abigail Whitley.

  I’d definitely bring up that itsy-bitsy detail if I were you.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen that particular piece of jewelry before,” Karen asked with a quizzical frown. She took the ring and inspected it before handing it back to me. “It must have been mixed in with some of the other costume pieces I had in a shoebox. Trust me, Raven, this is not a genuine sapphire. The only real piece of jewelry I own is my wedding band.”

  I was not going to bring up the fact that this ring belonged to a dead woman. Doing so would mean that I’d have to fabricate some complicated excuse that would only end up getting me in trouble.

  I was a terrible liar, just ask Heidi.

  Horrible was more accurate.

  I couldn’t believe Leo would suggest I attempt such a feat over something so trivial.

  Trivial? You’re holding a dead woman’s ring, Raven. That’s not trivial, and we may very well have a major problem on our hands.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I replied to Karen with a fantastic compromise in mind. “I’ll buy the ring, but I’ll return it to you if I find out that it’s the real deal.”

  As for Leo being uncomfortable with me owning an item of someone deceased, then he wasn’t thinking clearly. Nan had not only left me the tea shop, but I’d also inherited her eerie cottage on the edge of town that came with its very own wax golem.

  You’re missing the oh-so-relevant point, dear Raven.

  Karen agreed with a smile that told me she didn’t believe for one second that the sapphire ring was real, which made me wonder if Leo’s memory issues hadn’t come into play. He did tend to get a few facts mixed up from time to time. I set the jewelry down so that I could reach into my tote once more for my wallet.

  I hate to break it to you so indelicately, Raven, but you’re not going to be able to buy yourself out of this snafu. Just when I think you can’t top your last spell glitch, you up your game. I don’t know whether to be proud of you or beg your grandmother’s spirit for forgiveness.

  Snafu?

  Glitch?

  I’d cast only one major spell this past week, and that had been Heidi’s gift for finally being able to move into her newly renovated office. The hex bag had been crafted to ward off evil spirits. Leo wasn’t saying…

  Oh yes, I am saying. That ring does belong to Caroline Abigail Whitley, but there’s a catch you seem bent on not hearing. You see, that enormous and very expensive sapphire ring was her prized possession, and it just so happens that it was buried with her inside the family crypt when she went to the grave.

  My stomach bottomed out and my skin became clammy as I tried to open my wallet. Another spell gone wrong, this time involving malevolent spirits? There was no way that I could leave the ring behind now, especially when I was going to have to find a way to return it to its rightful owner.

  I suddenly find myself in need of my pipe, Raven. You have the distinct ability to drive that need home. Aren’t I the special one, indeed?

  Chapter Two

  “I can’t wear this thing.” Heidi took off the black beanie she’d slid over her blonde curls and tossed it down on the couch. “It’s too warm outside. Besides, I’d look ridiculous drowning in my own sweat, and then we’d have to come up with a doozy of an excuse as to why we’re all creeping around the cemetery looking like a bunch of grave robbers. Don’t you have a dark baseball cap or something more fashionable?”

  We’d come back to the cottage almost immediately after Leo’s bombshell landed with quite the explosion. I’d caught Heidi up as quickly as possible on the latest disaster, but we’d had no choice but to first swing by Heidi’s new office to grab the botched hex bag.

  I’d wanted to break the spell I’d cast in good faith, but Leo had been uncertain of doing such a reversal for fear that whatever I’d done would become permanent. He also mentioned that he wasn’t sure if the energy from the ring might interfere with any spell I’d cast, and I had to agree with that assumption. It was always better to be safe than sorry. As for the hex bag, its current location was in a hidden drawer within my coffee table. It couldn’t be safer.

  Tell my beloved Heidi that it’s not going to matter what she wears tonight, and that being caught by a human will be the least of our worries. If we are dealing with the spirit of Caroline Abigail Whitley, we’re probably all going to die horrible deaths. Let me at least get in a few puffs of my organic catnip before I meet Nan for a snack at the cafeteria later. Do you suppose the afterlife has fresh sushi at the self-service counter after hours?

  I wasn’t going to tell Heidi anything of what Leo had rambled on about. He and I had dealt with ghosts before, and the encounter hadn’t been all that bad. As a matter of fact, the spirit of Mazie Rose Young had gone back to the afterlife a very happy camper with her fairy familiar in tow. From what she’d told us, we’d gained a well-regarded reputation as amateur sleuths of the supernatural realm. And just for the record, I highly doubted that they ser
ved sushi of any sort, even during regular business hours in the afterlife.

  My dear Mazie was an absolute teetotaler with a proper sense of humor and a kind soul, unlike that trickster of a fairy who delighted in marking ruggedly handsome cats with her annoying glitter dust lipstick. I still can’t get this mark off my fur…not that it will matter. As I said, we’re doomed to die horrible deaths.

  “I might have a baseball cap up in the loft, tucked in behind my scarves somewhere.” I semi-recalled when I bought a midnight blue New York Yankees ball cap on a windy day when I lived in the city. I finally finished tying my black laces on my matching running shoe that were currently on my feet, thinking over what Leo had said about Mazie and our current problem. “Leo, are you insinuating that Mrs. Whitley wasn’t in the good graces of her neighbors when she was alive? How would you know that when you weren’t even alive back then? Wait. Were you? Alive back then, I mean?”

  I guess I hadn’t thought to ask Leo how old he was, just assuming he’d come into existence sometime during Nan’s tenure as a novice witch. I’d been meaning to finish going through the family history notes that were tucked away in the boxes upstairs, but life and issues with my spells kept getting in the way.

  Let’s just say I’ve been around for longer than was probably necessary, but it can take many centuries for a familiar to be joined with his or her proper caster. Until we are called upon by our magical match, we usually just stay near the coven of our origin. In doing so, I was quite familiar—oh, look at what I did there. No pun intended, of course, though I do believe this organic catnip does make me a bit wittier. Anyway, I was very well-acquainted with the surrounding areas. In order to respect the dead, I will only say that Mrs. Caroline Abigail Whitney was known for being quite challenging back in her day. Back to this sushi business. I have it on good order that the sushi is quite extraordinary in the afterlife. Their spring rolls are to die for…oops. I did it again. These puns just seem to come out of nowhere, Raven.

  “Are you absolutely sure Mrs. Whitley was buried with her sapphire ring and that this is the same one she took to her grave?” I asked for the hundredth time, and for many more reasons than I could possibly articulate. As I’d mentioned before, Leo’s memory went on the fritz a bit too often than either of us cared to admit. “I’d hate to think we’re sneaking into a graveyard after dark for absolutely no reason.”

  “How does this look?” Heidi asked after having used the spiral staircase that led to the bedroom loft. She was walking toward me with my Yankees baseball cap pulled down low on her forehead. She’d borrowed one of my long-sleeved black t-shirts and skin-tight yoga pants in the same inky black. “Do I look ready to break into a crypt or am I just that good?”

  “Stop saying that,” I muttered with agitation, unhappier with myself now that I’d gotten us into another pickle. “We’re not breaking into a crypt. We’re simply visiting the cemetery to see if the crypt has been disturbed in any fashion or if Leo’s memory from so long ago is just a bit fuzzy.”

  Please, please let the problem lie with Leo’s memory.

  Are you actually praying to the Sweet Angel of Mercy? I will have you know that I always fess up when my memory goes into the toilet. This is not one of those times, so I suggest pulling up your bootstraps, missy. We’re going ghost hunting!

  I practically collapsed back into the overstuffed chair in frustration, uncomfortable with these dark clothes that were stifling my free spirit at the same time it destroyed my sense of fashion. I hardly ever wore clothes like these, of course, but Heidi could make the grave robber style look chic.

  Moreover, I was going to need to blend in with the shadows so as not to be seen entering any crypt. We had no legitimate reason to be visiting the town’s local cemetery at ten o’clock on a Friday night.

  “Raven, I’ve seen a lot of unexplainable things happen since you told me you were a witch.” Heidi sat on the couch and rested her elbows on her knees so she could lean forward in her attempt to ease my fears. Her blue eyes softened when she smiled in reassurance. “I can only assume that learning something as difficult as witchcraft is as complicated as learning how to perform brain surgery on a running horse. It takes many, many years to become the best in one’s field. No one expects you to be perfect right out of the gate. The one thing you’ve been able to accomplish that those surgeons will never have the chance to do is the ability to fix your mistakes, right? There hasn’t been one spell cast that didn’t eventually contribute to getting the incantation right in the end. So, don’t beat yourself up. Besides, Jack is at some training course in North Carolina, and I’m bored out of my mind. Before planning our nightly excursion, my Friday night consisted of me binge watching ‘Sabrina the Teenage Witch’ to see if her life was anything like yours. I’ll get back to you on that later.”

  I truly didn’t believe that anything else could make this night worse, but Heidi just had to mention that oaf of a detective who hovers over her like locusts over a ripe fruit orchard.

  Heidi was currently dating Detective Jack Swanson, and he was honestly the longest running candidate for what you might call a long-term relationship when it came to Heidi. Leo took exception, of course. He didn’t think anyone was good enough for his lovely Heidi, but Jack was kind, compassionate, and supportive of her move from New York City to an out-of-the-way coastal Connecticut town. One that happened to be quieter and safer than any borough in the big city.

  It wasn’t that New York was any more dangerous than any other metropolis. Heck, I’d been born and raised there myself. But statistically wise, Paramour Bay had the lowest crime rates of any other town in the country, with jaywalking usually being the worst misconduct during any given afternoon.

  Are you the one with the memory problem? I distinctly recall there being a murderous clown running around this town only last month. Oh, and let’s not forget about the tax guy who bit the dust just before Christmas. Here. Take a hit off my pipe. Catnip makes everything seem so much better.

  I wasn’t going to let Leo ruin this supportive moment. I’d needed it desperately, and tonight’s scavenger hunt no longer seemed that bad given the other possibilities. Besides, Heidi was right—I was still learning the craft and mistakes were bound to happen here and there.

  “Thanks, Heidi,” I said softly, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “I needed that pick-me-up. Leo, not one word to bring back my bad mood.”

  Hey, I offered you my pipe. I don’t do that for just anyone. Besides, it’s not me who’s a buzz killer. You’re thinking of that walking Crayola, Ted. Where did he run off to, anyway? We could always send him to check the crypt without risking ourselves directly.

  My wax golem wasn’t going anywhere near the cemetery while I sat home safe inside the cottage. It was one thing for Heidi and me to make a quick run in and out, but it was another thing entirely for the six feet, seven-inch gentle giant to walk through the tombstones unprotected. With my luck, someone would spot him rattling someone’s bones and think he’d crawled out of a hole considering his relatively stiff stride.

  I guess I never thought of Ted along the lines of Night of the Living Dead. Hey, do you think we can get him cast as an extra on “The Walking Dead”? Think of the money we could make each week, then think of the huge pile of premium organic catnip it could buy. Raven, you finally might be onto something that could keep us in the style to which I could easily become accustomed.

  Leo had definitely inhaled too much concentrated smoke from his catnip pipe. I stood and walked into the kitchen, quickly stacking our dishes into the sink. The exterior of the house left a lot to be desired, but Nan’s exquisite taste for interior design was top notch. The kitchen was as modern as one could possibly make it, with granite countertops and the latest brushed stainless-steel appliances. Somehow, she’d successfully integrated antique pieces of furniture through the rest of the one-story cottage, the bedroom loft included.

  The living room’s coffee table was the central point of the
house, with intricate hand carved engravings on every square inch. There were hidden drawers throughout, though a single one in particular protected the family grimoire. Currently, the hex bag was tucked into a smaller drawer for safekeeping. The ward on this table was varied and dramatic. No one but me or one of my most trusted allies could access its secrets.

  We’ll destroy the bag when we know that Caroline Abigail Whitley didn’t turn into some ghoulish grave robber who wants to burn this town to the ground. If I remember correctly, she’s spiteful enough to try it, too.

  “I know this wasn’t how you planned on spending your Friday night,” Heidi said, standing from the couch to give herself a once-over. She nodded to herself in approval and to signal that she was ready to go. “I don’t mind being second choice, though.”

  “At least I wasn’t the one who had to cancel on Liam this time around.” I grabbed the satchel that Ted had brought to me earlier. It contained amaranth, an herb that was meant for protection against evil spirits. It would have been more effective concentrated into a potion if I’d had enough time to make one. I’d requested the material component from Ted right before Liam called to tell me that we needed to postpone our date until tomorrow night. “The mayor requested an emergency meeting with the entire town council, including Liam. He wanted to go over the Fourth of July parade and what needed to be done to make sure the festival went off without a hitch, unlike the last one that featured a murderous clown.”

  Don’t even mention those evil band of jesters. With your batting average, you’re liable to conjure one up just by thinking about them, and then we’ll be dealing with a ghoul and a hideous clown specter. I can only deal with so much evil at any given time.

  “Poor Liam,” Heidi said, twisting her cap on backward and making herself look like some kind of West Coast Goth Barbie. “I heard that the mayor’s wife is visiting her sister in Ohio, and that he has no idea what to do with himself without her to boss him around. Liam is sweet to go along with the town council to give the mayor something to do this evening.”