Pumpkin Blend (A Paramour Bay Cozy Paranormal Mystery Book 14) Page 2
“Leo, what on earth happened to your eye?” Heidi exclaimed over the chiming of the bell above the door. My best friend always stopped by the teashop after closing up her accounting firm that was just down the street, and she knew that I kept the door unlocked for her arrival. “Did you go visit Aphrodite again without asking Mr. Jenkins for his permission to court his kitty-cat?”
You tell my former soulmate that I don’t need permission from that filthy hoarder to visit my perfect mate. There’s something wrong with that old geezer. Someone needs to put in him a home somewhere far away. Did you know that he bought my mate one of those robot litterboxes? I warned her that she can’t trust those contraptions. She’s liable to get sucked in, never to be seen again. She’ll end up packaged for the garbage disposal.
Even though Mom and I were training Heidi on the ways of being a hedge witch, she couldn’t hear Leo quite yet. I relayed his part of the conversation as I walked over to his cat bed to dispense his late afternoon treat. I really couldn’t say anything about his addiction to premium organic catnip or the treats that Beetle gave him on a daily basis due to my own addiction to coffee.
That would definitely be calling the kettle black.
“Something clearly happened over at Aphrodite’s place,” Heidi repeated knowingly, setting her purse down on the counter while she loved on Leo and looked over his wounds.
He had fancied himself in love with Heidi for the last two years, but he finally seemed to accept the fact that her heart belonged to a certain state police detective. Of course, it had certainly helped sway his attention when Aphrodite came into the picture. The pretty Maine Coon was jet black with wisps of ginger on the ends of her fur, and she seemed pretty taken with Leo, as well.
Unfortunately for him, she belonged to Mr. Jenkins.
My perfect mate must have really upended her karma to end up with that old geezer. Seeing as we do the same with karma practically on a daily basis, I can completely relate. It’s yet another thing that we have in common.
Leo did have a point.
About both karma and Mr. Jenkins.
The older cantankerous gentleman certainly wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, and he also had a thing about his petunia bushes remaining undisturbed. Leo somehow always managed to damage them at least a couple of times each summer in his quest to locate the neighborhood squirrels’ hibernation stash of acorns. For some reason, he thought the location would give him the upper hand in the squirrelpocalypse.
And this is why you’re not leading us into battle, Raven. Anyway, I can see that my former soulmate isn’t going to leave this alone. She clearly loves me considerably more than you, by the way. You can tell her that my perfect mate and I happened to be in the living room while that old geezer was out tending to his petunias. One of his stacks of fishermen magazines fell on top of my head. How was I to know that he kept his foot spa next to the chair?
“Basically, a stack of magazines fell on top of Leo’s head,” I reiterated as I sealed up the baggie with the remaining treats that were supposed to last him the rest of the week. I could already tell that wasn’t likely to happen, which was why I had other baggies stashed in secret places that he didn’t know about. “He then bumped his eye into one of those foot spa things that massages the arch of your feet.”
“I hope Mr. Jenkins doesn’t have—”
I hastily coughed really loud so that Heidi didn’t kickstart Leo’s hypochondria. By the way he stumbled in his not-so-graceful strut across the teashop to his cat bed in the display window, I could see that I was a little too late.
Raven, is my former soulmate suggesting that there were remnants of toenail fungus in that contraption that I hit my face on?
“No,” I quickly replied with a wince. My evening definitely wasn’t starting out on the right foot—no pun intended. I shot a glare Heidi’s way, who shrugged a rather sheepish apology. “She wasn’t implying any such thing. Were you, Heidi?”
“Not at all,” Heidi replied in a convincingly manner. She was always better at lying than me. “I was going to say that I hope Mr. Jenkins doesn’t have the urge to hoard something heavier than mere magazines. You could have really gotten hurt if something weightier had fallen on top of you.”
Does toenail fungus itch? My left eye is beginning to itch, Raven.
“Your eye is itching because of the swelling,” I explained, hoping beyond hope that was true. If the swelling hadn’t receded by tomorrow morning, we were definitely going to have make an appointment with Dr. Jameson. “You really should put some ice on it.”
It’s fine. You once tried to tell me that there was no such thing as mental antioxidants, just regular antioxidants that boost the immune system. I have successfully disproven your theory about the IQ cells growing exponentially in my brain. I’m so close to finding my nemesis’ acorn stash, I think I can actually smell them hiding underground! Anyway, I’ll concede there might be some proof in the boosting of my immune system. I’ve been feeling pretty good lately. Blueberry-filled edibles for the win!
I shook my head at Leo’s rationality, grabbing my tote bag that I’d set on the stool behind the counter. I’d already closed out the cash register before Wilma’s visit, so I’d leave her money in the till until tomorrow. It was usually Beetle who took the deposit bag to the bank every Friday, so I had to make a pitstop before Heidi and I went to grab a bite to eat at the diner to tide us over until after the festival.
“Jack is working on a homicide case, so he can’t make it this weekend,” Heidi explained as she led the way to the door. She flashed me a smile over her shoulder. “Seeing as Liam has to be on duty tonight, you and I are going on a junk food spree. I’ve been craving those caramel apples all week long. I say we skip dinner entirely so that we can—”
Heidi had opened the door to the shop and all but came to a complete standstill. I knew this, because I’d been looking for the keys in my tote bag instead of watching where I was walking.
Needless to say, I bumped into her so hard that I actually pushed her out onto the sidewalk.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, searching the area for what had caught her attention. “What in the world is going on?”
“I don’t know, but Beau and Virgil Stellhorn seem fit to be tied,” Heidi said curiously, pointing toward town square. Sure enough, the father and son duo were talking with Liam with hands flailing and a few loud words carrying on the coastal breeze. “You don’t think that they dropped the pumpkin, do you? I mean, that thing must have been at least a hundred pounds or more.”
“Try more like one hundred and eighty-three pounds,” I corrected, having gotten that bit of information from Wilma and Elsie. I quickly locked up the teashop, knowing that Leo would join us the moment that he finished enjoying his blueberry-filled edibles. “That jack-o-lantern was their largest on record. I sure hope that it didn’t fall off the back of the truck. They should have used a forklift.”
“Well, it’s not there,” Heidi pointed out, drawing my attention to the flatbed that the father and son duo had used to haul the large pumpkin with into town. “I don’t see a large splat of orange goo on the ground, though.”
Liam was rubbing the back of his neck in the way he did when something concerned him, which told me the situation was not simply a large pumpkin going splat on the concrete.
His tell wasn’t the only thing that was having me lean in that direction.
The palm of my hand began to tingle in the way it did when something wasn’t right, or other times when we were walking into danger. I would guess it was the former, though I couldn’t understand why a pumpkin would cause such a reaction.
It didn’t, Raven. Your palm is just fine. You are clearly mistaken. If you need me, I’ll be scouting the park for Skippy and his minions. I tried to talk my perfect mate into coming with me, but she refuses to leave the old geezer’s side. I tell you, I’m skeptical if this newfound relationship is even going to work out.
“Leo, the palm of m
y hand is definitely tingling,” I reiterated, causing Heidi to whip her head toward me with surprise. She understood exactly what it meant when energy began to coil inside of my palm. “Before you get sidetracked with Skippy, would you please go over there and listen to what Virgil and Beau are saying to Liam?”
Fine, but only because those blueberry-filled edibles put me in such a good mood. I’m revitalized!
Leo had originally made his appearance from underneath my old Corolla, which was parked right in front of the teashop. He’d come strutting out from behind the tire, attempting to look as if he’d been there all along. No one had ever questioned his sudden appearances or disappearances, but that was only because people weren’t mentally equipped to handle anything beyond the realm of what was possible.
Not needing to camouflage himself, Leo began to walk down the sidewalk as if nothing in the world was amiss.
Well, more like wiggle and jiggle his backend.
Heidi and I waited patiently near the storefront, because we both knew that he was going to go underneath another vehicle so that he could vanish into thin air. It would allow him the ability to listen in on the conversation without anyone the wiser, and in twice the time it would take him if he were to remain visible.
“Is your hand really tingling?” Heidi asked with curiosity, continuing to watch the three men. The only thing that really caused her to pause in contemplation was if my inherent warning sense had anything to do with our local grim reaper. She was still quite wary of him, though she had worked through her fear of vampires. “I saw the movie Pumpkinhead, you know. Creepy as—”
Heidi cut off what she was about to say when she saw Leo suddenly appear from the back tire of my old Corolla once more. Even though his left eye was still pretty much swollen shut, I could see it twitching the way it did when something bothered him.
It’s nothing. Zilch. Zip. They’re just talking about the weather. I’m going to head to the park now, so I’ll catch up with you later.
“Don’t you dare,” I warned Leo, wise to his little mind games. Something had definitely happened to the centerpiece of tonight’s festival. “Was the jack-o-lantern vandalized or something? Did someone not like that Virgil was the one hired to carve it this year?”
You realize that Paramour Bay has a law enforcement officer for a reason, right? I say we let the good ol’ sheriff do his job for once.
“Leo, spill it,” I instructed, not giving an inch. “Do we have another mystery to solve?”
Why? Why on earth did you have to say the M word, Raven? I’ve already been given a shiner, maybe even got a bit of the old geezer’s toenail fungus in my left eye, and now you’re going to have me chasing a thief who—
Leo snapped his incisors shut with a quick nip, and he was very lucky that he didn’t bite his lip. I’d gotten what I’d wanted, though—a reason for why Virgil and Beau were so upset.
“Leo, are you saying that someone stole the town’s jack-o-lantern?” I asked, swinging my tote bag over my shoulder with purpose.
“It’s a good thing that Jack is busy this weekend,” Heidi said, always willing to help me solve a whodunit when it came to the wellbeing of the town’s residents. “On the other hand, can’t you cast a simple locator spell to find it?”
“I wish it were that simple, but it’s not like the pumpkin owns anything that we’d be able to use in an incantation,” I reminded her as I thought over our options. Unfortunately, they were pretty limited. “I hate to say this, but it looks like we’re going to have to solve this mystery the old-fashioned way.”
Oy vey. I’m going to need more blueberry-filled edibles, aren’t I?
Chapter Two
“It’s not like someone could have just stuffed an almost two-hundred-pound jack-o-lantern in their pocket and walked off with it without anyone seeing,” Heidi pointed out as we’d left the diner. We’d decided it best to leave Liam to do his job, knowing full well that he would fill us in on the details of the case later…especially if he thought it had anything to do with the supernatural. “It makes me think this could be an inside job. I’ve always wanted to use that line.”
You’d think by the way that my former soulmate talks that she’d spent some time behind bars for some nefarious crime. Come to think of it, she’s pretty good at lying, too. Take the toenail fungus debacle. I’m pretty sure that she was going to warn me about the insidious infection of some sort, but she deflected like a pro.
“It’s not like Virgil or Beau had any reason to take their own pumpkin,” I pointed out, deciding that now was a good time to retrieve the heavy sweater that I’d thrown in my car earlier this morning. The coastal breeze was settling, yet the temperature was definitely dropping as the evening wore on. “And they don’t have any sort of ruthless competition that would try and steal the centerpiece from the festival. Everyone that competes are lifelong friends.”
I want to go on record saying that I have better things to do this evening than find a missing orange cultivar of winter squash. Unlike my former soulmate here, my perfect mate is waiting for me to bring her some of my premium organic catnip confections I had prepared from my personal Honduran stash.
“You’re not going to take Aphrodite some of your special blueberry-infused edibles?” I asked, having already told Heidi that we needed to stop by my car so that I could grab my sweater. I also wanted to leave my tote bag in the trunk. We’d already stopped by the bank before dinner to make this week’s deposit, but I didn’t want to lug my laptop around all evening. “I bet Mr. Jenkins doesn’t even know about them.”
Raven, Raven, Raven. There are some things that a familiar just doesn’t share with civilians—human or otherwise. My blueberry-filled edibles fall into that rather special security category.
Heidi had been using her phone as we crossed the street without using the crosswalk, obviously looking something up on the internet. She wasn’t talking to anyone, but she had been preoccupied with whatever it was she was reading, which was how we’d ended up jaywalking in the first place.
I saw Cora Barnes, the owner of the malt shop, cast me her usual disapproving glare as she locked up her storefront. She and my mother had a long history of discontent with one another, but I did try my best to stay out of their odd relationship.
I purposefully flashed her a smile and gave her a wave of greeting.
I’d move her to the top of the suspect list.
“Why?” I asked Leo with a laugh, unable to see Cora lugging a pumpkin that weighed more than she did down the street. “I’m relatively certain you can leave her off the list entirely.”
In case you haven’t noticed, the malt shop has been just as busy as the teashop lately. Those pumpkin shakes are all the rave with the younger generation. She probably ran out of inventory and decided to take the largest offering that was right in front of her.
“Leo, the malt shop doesn’t use real pumpkins,” I explained, having already unlocked the trunk of my car to store my tote bag. My cell phone had one of those nifty little pocket things that stuck on the back of the case that held my license, credit card, and a fifty-dollar bill in case of emergencies. “Cora just has her employees add a quarter teaspoon of pumpkin-flavored powder to vanilla ice-cream into the mixer. She’s got a ten-pound bag of the stuff. I’ve seen it myself. They also sprinkle cinnamon on top of the whipped cream for a special decorative touch.”
That battle-ax ought to be arrested for deceiving her customers. Now I’m doubting that any real authentic ingredients have ever passed through her doors.
“I’m not such a big fan of Cora Barnes, either.” I slammed the trunk shut and walked around to the passenger side door. Heidi was still skimming something on her phone, not even paying the slightest bit of attention to Leo and me. “But she didn’t deceive a soul. The sign in the malt shop window clearly states pumpkin-flavored malts.”
“Ha!” Heidi declared in victory, turning her cell phone toward me. She pulled it back too fast for me to read whatever
had been on the display. “Beau and Virgil do have competition. The Pumpkin Harvest Farm is in the next town over, and the Apple Cobbler Farm is out to the west of our little town in another county. There are three commercial pumpkin patches that apparently take their prized jack-o-lanterns directly to the state fair after their local festivals to see who wins the top awards for the largest and most creative carvings.”
Award? Raven, this is sounding way out of our league. This could be felony theft. I suggest that the good ol’ sheriff handle this case, as I first suggested. We don’t want to get involved in a long history of three families battling it out with carving knives, do we? I mean, we have your mother to deal with on daily basis. It’s like death by a thousand cuts already. I’m not sure which is worse, but I do know that we shouldn’t add to our burden.
“I wonder if Liam knows about the state fair contest.” I grabbed my favorite black sweater out of the passenger seat and began to slip my arms through the sleeves. “Let’s go tell him what you found, Heidi. Town square is all lit up, so maybe the mayor has decided to continue with the Fall Holiday Festival regardless.”
Let me know how it goes.
Leo began to trot down the sidewalk.
It’s almost dark, and this is the perfect time to follow Skippy or one of his ninja minions back to wherever it is they are storing their hibernation nuts.
There was nothing that I could say that would stop Leo from doing a bit of reconnaissance on the neighborhood squirrels. The local druid had supplied him with the locations of the squirrels’ major headquarters, subordinate to the several regional hideouts scattered around town. It wasn’t long after such a reveal that Leo had figured out that what was more important was the site of their acorn stockpile. It not only served as their winter food supply, but they also used it as ammunition, as well.