"Because youcan." He spreads his hands wide. "That's the point, Pops. You now have 'fuck you' money. You could walk into a boat dealership and be like, 'yes, I'll take that one' in blue and another in silver,' and they'd have to get it for you."
"I don't think that's how buying boats works."
"You don't know. Have you ever bought a boat before?"
I'm laughing—really laughing—when the brass bell above the door jingles.
Sheriff Decker steps in first, his broad shoulders hunched against the cold. He’s followed by Mayor Declan, standing tall in his blue plaid jacket.
The two of them look like they’ve already lived through three disasters today and are bracing for a fourth.
Tanner appears from the kitchen, a tea towel over his shoulder, and flour on his apron. “Afternoon, Sheriff. Mayor. Two Tuesday specials?”
“Please.” Declan slides onto a stool with a long exhale. “Better pack them to go. It’s best that we stay mobile.”
Sheriff Decker hands his travel mug to Marty but stays standing, one hand resting on his gun belt. He doesn’t seem tense. Just… alert.
“Mobile?” Marty repeats. “Why? What’s going on?”
He accepts his refilled mug and takes a sip. The caffeine injection seems to smooth some of his rough edges, and he nods his thanks. “Emberwood seems to be having a series of strange events. Mrs. Henley’s antique shop lost power this morning at 10:32. Just her shop. The streetlights stayed on and the rest of the grid showed no problems.”
Tanner shrugs. “Old wiring? That place is basically held together by duct tape and prayer.”
“That’s what we thought at first,” Decker agrees, taking another swallow of coffee. “Except every clock in town seems to have stopped at the same time. Wall clocks. Watches. Even the battery-powered ones.” He points to the clock over the serving pass-through to the kitchen.
Sure enough, it’s stopped at 10:32.
I check my Fitbit and it’s the same.
Asher checks his Garmin and gives me wild eyes. “That’s freaky. Are you hearing the theme song for the Twilight Zone ringing in your head?”
“Well, now that you saidthat,I am.”
That level of weirdness definitely falls outside the norm.
I tilt my head toward the counter, and Asher and I take our empty dishes and join the conversation. “Is that the only weirdness, gentlemen? You two look frazzled. Is there more?”
Mayor Declan looks so much like his sister Eliza, it’s amazing. They’re like the male and female version of the same person. They both have the same rich brown hair and ice-blue eyes, both of them are wiry strong white tiger shifters, and they both share a weird penchant for plaid flannel shirts.
Declan rubs his temples as if he’s fighting off a headache. “Actually, yeah. The other complaints might fall more in your court than ours, Poppy.”
“Okay, you have my attention. How so?”
Before he can explain, the bell chimes again. I glance over and freeze.
Mica—a coven witch I met during the disaster of Tharuzel tearing the veil between our world and the Hell Realm—stands in the doorway. Backlit by the afternoon sun filtering through the windows, her hair is a shimmering riot of teal and blue with streaks of purple and green woven through it.
She scans the diner with sharp steel-gray eyes until her gaze lands on me. She closes the distance in a few hurried strides. "Poppy, I hoped I'd find you here."
I don’t really know her, nor do I know any reason why she’d seek me out. Well, any reason that doesn't involve Laurel or Emberwood Coven bullshit.
Still, we managed to work together to seal the rift and calm the ley line fluctuations that had been plaguing Emberwood, so there's that. "Hey, Mica. What can I do for you?"
She takes in the tension of the conversation she interrupted and bites her bottom lip. "Sorry to just show up. I was hoping to talk to you about something. Privately, if you've got a minute."
The shift from her casual tone to something more careful sends a prickle of awareness down my spine.
Asher catches it too, his expression sobering. "Want me to come?"
