“You’re such a worrywart; this is Riddle Hill, the safest little supernatural town in the Midwest.”
Teddy huffs out a sigh and then tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Of course,” I reply, savoring his touch. We both know I’m not calling him; he needs time to heal, and I’m still his nurse.
As I walk down to the end of the driveway, I spotyellow crime-scene tape fluttering in the summer breeze; Marv and his faerie partner, Sam, have cordoned off the front of the bakeshop. I take a deep breath, steeling myself to round the corner and face the damage.
I’m thankful I’m wearing my sturdy Converse sneakers, because something crunches underfoot; my picture window is nothing but a thousand tiny shards that sparkle like loose diamonds on the sidewalk. Gloom descends on me, and I don’t want to see anymore, but Marv is calling my name. I slowly raise my gaze from the ground to the shop itself and let out a loud gasp. “Why?”
The vandals smeared red paint all over the front of my beautiful bakery, and from the looks of it, they sprayed the inside of the shop through the broken window. My white wrought iron tables—a gift from Teddy—are now speckled with red paint like so many drops of blood.
I gulp down the bile rising in my throat; I think Teddy may be right. Thisfeelslike something Rafe would do. Rubbing my arms, I shiver, chilled to my core despite the sunshine.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” says my mother, who must have spotted me from the café’s window across the street. This is her first day back at work after the flu, and the last thing I want is for Mom to be fretting over me. “Who would do such an awful thing?” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and gives a squeeze.
Marv says quietly, “We don’t know yet, Miss Phoebe, but we’ll chase down every fang, feather, and patch of fur until we find ’em.”
My mother gives me anothersqueeze. “Your father and I want to replace the window for you, so don’t worry about that. Whatever else you need, just let us know. Nash can’t leave the kitchen right now, but he’s waving his spatula around and shouting faerie curses in Irish while he cooks.”
That image causes my mouth to tip up at the corners. “Thanks, Mom.” I wait for her to cross the street and reenter the café, relieved she’s back where she belongs. Then I turn around to face my shattered bakeshop once more. Fishing inside my pocket, I withdraw the key and unlock the door.
“Wait here; we’ll go in first to look around, not that I expect any surprises,” says Marv. Sam and Marv stalk inside, creep around the room’s perimeter, and open the doors to the bathroom and closet. While Marv inspects the kitchen, Sam pokes his head back outside and tells me I can enter.
My heart sinks as I gaze at the paint spattering my hardwood floors and marring Sophie’s Greenest Green on my walls. “Whoever did this leaned through the broken window with his can of paint so he could cause as much damage as possible,” says Sam, his brown eyes solemn. “This feels personal to me.”
“Yeah, I agree,” grunts Marv. He holds up a rock about the size of my fist in his gloved hand. “This rolled under one of the bakery cases. We’ll dust it for fingerprints, but I’m not expecting we’ll find anything useful.”
Marv places the rock in an evidence bag, which Sam carries out to their squad car. “Jake doesn’t know yet,” says Marv. “He’s on call at the fire station, so I haven’t told him, but he’s going to be spitting madwhen he hears. We’ll find whoever did this, Sophie; I promise.”
I thank Marv and follow him out to the sidewalk; I don’t have the heart to face the damage alone, but I also don’t want to tell Teddy that all his hard work has been ruined. I’m about to lock up when a familiar, creaky voice calls out from behind me, “Hold up there, dearie. I brought some sponges that’ll help you clean up this mess, but you need to use them right away.”
“Granny?” I spin around. My grandmother is wearing baggy purple shorts, an orange-and-green plaid flannel shirt, and a blue ball cap; somehow the look works on her. She gives me one of the pails she’s carrying, and I peer inside at an ordinary-looking sponge about the size of my hand.
“This can remove dried paint?” I’m incredulous.
“Shh,” she puts a finger to her lips. “Not so loud; I see some non-supers heading this way.”
Then it dawns on me; my faerie granny is giving me magic sponges! “O-oh… thanks, Gran!”
Granny reaches for the other sponge inside her pail. “Why don’t you start cleaning the inside of the shop; I’ll work out here. The magic’s only good for a couple hours.”
“But what’ll you say if a non-super wants to know how a plain yellow sponge can remove dried paint?”
“I’ll just tell ’em it’s magic.” Granny grins at me and winks.
Despite the heaviness twisting my gut, and my apprehension that Rafe isn’t finished with Teddy and meyet, I burst out laughing.
Before we get started, I sweep up the broken glass on the sidewalk so Granny doesn’t trip on it, and then I carry my pail into the shop. I’ve just placed the pail on the floor when my phone buzzes in my pocket; Teddy has managed to wait twenty-four minutes before texting me, which is better than I would’ve done if the roles were reversed. I underplay the damage, telling him it’s going to take a couple of hours to clean up with my grandmother’s help. He tells me he’s going to make us lunch and signs off with a row of sparkly hearts.
I send Teddy a bunch of kissy faces and tuck away my phone.
Wait a minute; Teddy is going to attempt to do something in the kitchen other than clean it? That’s awfully sweet, but I have a feeling I’ll be running to Vlad’s Victuals later for carryout.
I decide to start with the wall closest to the window and slowly swipe the yellow sponge across the spattered surface; when I pull the sponge away, not a single dab of red paint remains on the wall!
Granny’s magic sponge is pure genius!
Two hours later, every speck of red paint is gone, and I feel as if I just relived my favorite childhood book,The Cat in the Hat.When I mention this to Granny, she chuckles. “Who do you think gave him the idea?”
