“I don’t know. When I got up, Elwood was messing with it, mumbling something about hexes, unethical spells, and rogue witches. I’m going with him to Ivan’s brewery right away. I just stopped by to say good morning.”
“Do you need me to come with you? Sable will be in before lunch, so I have time.”
“No, Elwood and I can handle it. I don’t even know what we’re looking for, I just know whatever it is, has him pretty agitated.”
“Hmm, like grandfather like grandson,” I teased, although it was true. I’d known Elwood for years, and he’d never been able to tolerate injustice. I guess that was where Declan got it. “Okay, but if you need me, just call.”
“I will.” He went up on his tiptoes and brushed a quick kiss across my lips before heading out the back door the way he’d come in.
The bell over the door chimed again, and Benny, the local dog groomer, came in. He took his usual seat, but he looked more stressed than normal.
“Hey, Benny?” I called out. “You okay over there?”
He shook his head. “You ever notice how some days feel like they’re out to get you?”
Az blinked. “I think it's all in your head, Benny.”
Benny ignored him. “The Pomeranian I groomed this morning bit me. Twice. I’m convinced it’s secretly a chupacabra.”
Az actually snorted, which was as close as he got to laughter. “Pomeranians aren’t chupacabras, and neither are chihuahuas, no matter how much they seem to be. As many supernatural creatures as you might see here in Ravenstone, you’ll never see a chupacabra because they aren’t real.”
“I don’t know if I believe you. Seriously, have you ever seen those hairless chihuahuas? I’m pretty sure those are related to them, at the very least.”
Az and I shared a look before he cleared his throat and stood. “I guess I need to get back to my shop.”
I spent the next couple of hours getting people drinks and shopping for the perfect espresso machine. Sable entered a little while later to work the lunch and dinner shift.
“How are you doing today?” I asked.
“Good. Just another day in paradise. Alvin tells me he’s making meat pies for dinner.”
We didn’t have much of a regular menu here at the pub. The typical burgers and fish and chips were always on offer, but other than that, we had whatever Alvin felt like cooking that day. It might seem odd, but it worked. Word of what he was cooking would spread almost as fast as gossip, and his meat pies were a local favorite.
“His meat pies always bring in a good crowd. Do you need me to call Molly in to help tonight?” I asked.
“No, with the festival going on as well, I should be fine. Anyway, I’m going to go help Alvin get ready for the lunch rush.” She pushed through the door that led to the kitchen, and I went back to my phone.
I hadn’t heard from Declan or Elwood, but I wondered how their investigation was going. If Ivan’s growler had been hexed, what would that mean for the contest? A distribution deal like that was no small prize, but if the results had been tampered with, I had no idea how that could be fixed. What if it wasn’tjust Ivan’s brew that had been ruined? What about Tessa’s? This could turn out to be a real mess. But that was a problem for later. For now, I had an espresso machine to order.
Chapter Five
She’s My What?
Declan
“I’m just calling to let you know I’ve signed you up for the Sip and Stretch for Thursday,” Hazel said.
“You did what?”
I had the call on speaker as Elwood drove us to Ivan’s place, so he snickered at my squawk of surprise. Of course, he thought my outburst was because of Hazel, not from his driving. But the way he’d taken that last turn had me wondering if the microbus was going to tip.
“Sip and Stretch,” she repeated. “Do I need to hang up and call again? I swear these phones just don’t connect properly.”
“No. I heard you.” I rubbed my forehead. Maybe my hangover wasn’t completely cured because my head was starting to ache. I didn’t remember a Sip and Stretch event. When had that been added, and why hadn’t anyone told me? “What is it?”
“Yoga and beer drinking. I’m not overly fussed about drinking alcohol myself. My mister gets anxious when I get tipsyfor some reason. I suppose it’s because I feel amorous and I want to lose control.” She giggled. “But my friend Kim is organizing it, and I think yoga would be good for you. You need to relax, dear.”
I’d never met Hazel’s husband, but I could easily understand his concern. She was a spider lady, literally. And she was part of the Misfit Monsters’ group because she’d decided she didn’t want to kill her husband in order to have babies. I didn’t understand the biology behind that, and I was never, ever going to ask. But I wouldn’t want an impaired, amorous spider in bed with me either.
