“Now, give me a minute to answer this, then we’ll get your bags upstairs, and we can talk about what you’re planning,”Elwood said.
As soon as Elwoodwasdistracted, Tulip leaned in close. Her scent reminded me of seawater. She must have eaten sushi for lunch.
“I’d happily take care of Josh for you. I’ve never met him, so no one would connect me to his disappearance.”She batted her eyelashes at me.
“Oh, uh…”Wasshe suggesting killing him?“No… I don’t think that’s necessary… I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Oh, but it wouldn’t be a problem?—”
The door to the store swung open, and Tulip snapped her mouth shut. A massive man with black curly hair and a tanned complexion walked in, leaving a trail of sawdust in his wake. His gaze darted from left to right as if hewerecasing the place. Heswallowed hard. And if it wasn’t so disgustingly hot outside, I’d almost think that walking in here had made him sweat.
“What ishedoing here?” Tulip snarled.
“Who is it?”
“Jim Walton, Winston’s contractor…”
“Oh…”
Since Elwoodwasstill on the phone, I decidedI’dbetter see what the man needed.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Yeah… I…”The man wiped his hands on his worn jeans.“I need a gift for someone. My girlfriend’s mother. She’s into this… uh… stuff…”He picked up a long quartz point and turned it over in his hand.
Elwood’s display had a variety of point types, and Jim selected one of the larger rock crystal points. It was approximately seven inches long, six-sided, and translucent. The edges appeared sharp, but they wouldn’t cut. Although, I supposed if someone wanted to hurt someone with one, they could. But that was true of most things.
“I don’t get it, but can you recommend something?” Jim glanced at the price tag and grimaced. “Something less expensive?”
“Do you know what she alreadyhas?”I asked, plucking the crystal from his hands and placing it back on the shelf. I remember being reprimanded by Elwood as a kid for touching the crystals. Youweren’tsupposedto do that unless the crystalwasyours. It threw off the energy or something.
My grandfather’s call ended just as the contractor left with some rune-inscribed wind chimes.I’dmanagedto ring up the sale with only a little help from Brooke—I mean, Tulip. She wasn’t a regular employee at The Mystic Menagerie, but she covered shifts for him from time to time.
“Can’t sayI’dexpectedto get a sale from him,”Elwood said, watching the contractor head next door.
“So, whatwasthat call about?”I asked.“You look like you found out a band of imps has infested the attic.”When I used to visit as a kid, that’d been one of my grandfather’s favorite sayings. Being back in Ravenstone with himhadremindedme of it.
“It’s even worse than that,”he said, rubbing the back of his neck.“Leon wants to hold an emergency festival meeting tonight to talk about the mess Winston’s renovation is making. And he’s decided he’s holding it here.”
“Here? No!”Tulip shrieked and stomped her foot in the puddle under her, splashing water on my shoes.“Tonight is our misfit support group meeting. And I need support.”
“I know, Tulip,”Elwood patted her hand.“But the library is closed because of a broken water pipe, and it sounds like this won’t be the type of conversation to have in the pub where the tourists can hear.”
Tulip huffed out a breath and crossed her arms.“Winston ruins everything.”
Elwood passed me the old skeleton key to his upstairs apartment.“Go on up and get settled. I have to call the misfits and tell them our meeting is postponed.”
Chapter Two
Emergency meetings, coffee catastrophes, and the alpha who wasn’t
Gideon
I wiped down the bar with steady strokes, gaze moving over the room. I’d known the first time I walked into this building that it was where I was meant to be. The exposed dark wood beams in the ceiling and the big open fireplace gave it an old-world feel that I loved. Lantern-style pendants hung from the old beams, giving my guests a sense of privacy while giving off enough light for me to see everyone here.
Benny was hunched at his usual corner table, muttering to the dog at his feet about matted fur and neglectful owners. Across the room, Avery O’Neill sat with her head bent over that same battered notebook she always carried, pen tapping in an anxious rhythm no one else would dare interrupt. Rumor was she was writing a book, but no one knew for sure. She refusedto talk about it, and if anyone got near, she would hide her work speedy-quick.
It was quiet enough for now, but I was still on guard, as always. Made it easier to see trouble before it started. Not that we had trouble very often in The Den, and when we did, it didn’t last long. All it took was one growl from me, and even the scariest of the bunch—and some of them were pretty scary—stopped what they were doing.
