Page 9 of A Dash of Wolf

“And I always make sure to give them treats before I have Miss Moody drop them back off at the care center,” Adeline said.

“What?” Mason blinked, turning back to her.

Adeline chuckled. “I said I make sure to give them treats before I have Miss Moody drop them back off.”

“Miss Moody?” he asked, then immediately regretted it. He didn’t want to get caught up in her drama. Of course, after what all he’d witnessed in the eight hours he’d been on duty, he had to ask himself if the whole town wasn’t unhinged.

“Miss Moody is the town’s only Uber driver and part-time reporter for the Moonlight Beacon. Her descendants are Gullah.”

“Gullah?” he mused.

“The Gullah people are from Daufuskie Island, off the coast of South Carolina. After the Civil War, they settled and started their own traditions, and they even have their own unique English-Creole language. Surely you saw her out there today? Taking pictures and asking questions.”

“Oh, I saw her. I just didn’t realize that was her name.”

Adeline nodded, and her red hair brushed against his forearm. It had come loose from its messy bun somewhere between the marsh and the station. “Yep. If you want to know anything going on in this town, Miss Moody is the witch to talk to. You’ll have to take a spin in her Isetta to get the info—because Miss Moody doesn’t spill her guts for free—but you’ll learn a lot.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mason said dryly. “Wait. She drives the red-and-white Isetta? And she is an Uber driver? How is that possible?”

Adeline smiled. “Did you notice the lack of cars at the marsh? Miss Moody took everyone.”

“How?” he asked.

Adeline smirked. “Her Isetta has spatial magic. It grows with the number of people needed to get inside the tiny car. Once, a few years ago, we got nine of us in the vehicle.”

His brow furrowed. “Seriously? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at that type of magic. I’ve just never seen it before.”

A tiny snore caught his attention, and he glanced down at the squid attached to the beguiling witch’s forearm. The creature had fallen asleep, its small jelly-like body moving up and down, and its massive bubble eyes closed. Now that it wasn’t staring at him with those accusing big eyes, Mason had to admit the thing was actually kind of cute. In a jelly-like blob way.

“Can I have a bowl of water, Cassie?” Adeline asked.

“Coming right up.” Officer Casswell set down her coffee and hurried to the back room, leaving Mason alone with Adeline. Well, alone if you didn’t count the cat, who had started singing “Jailhouse Rock” at the top of her lungs from the cell cot.

Mason pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself that this was his life now. He’d chosen to leave the comfort of undercover work and mingle with the mostly “law abiding” crowd. A part of him worried he’d made the wrong decision.

Officer Dixon and Mrs. Abernathy shuffled back into the room, and the elderly witch clapped her hands in delight and started singing along with Princess Muffin Top. The two of them belted out the chorus together while Dixon leaned against the wall and grinned like this was the most entertainment he’d had all week.

It probably was.

“I used to be so in love with that Elvis Presley,” Mrs. Abernathy said when the song finished. “Parents were appalled at his behavior, you know?”

“Because of the way he moved on stage?” Adeline mused. “I think I heard that somewhere.”

Mrs. Abernathy snorted. “Goodness no, child. Because he was only half supernatural.”

Mason opened his mouth, then closed it. “You know what? I don’t even want to know.”

The elderly witch patted his arm on her way out. “You’ll do just fine here, dear.”

Officer Casswell came back with a bowl of water, and Adeline gently lowered the sleeping squid into it. Herman stirred, cracked open one massive eye, looked around, then went back to sleep.

“How does it not drown?” Mason asked. “Or dry out? It was out of the water for a long time.”

Adeline grinned up at him, and again his stomach did some sort of weird flip. “Magic, Chief. Surely you believe in magic?” She winked. “And it’s in their genetic makeup. They can survive out of water for short periods. The magic just extends it.”

Mason gave her a small smile he hadn’t intended to give and steered her toward the cell. He had no idea how long he was supposed to keep her locked up. If Ivan Johansson didn’t come in and press formal charges, he’d have to let her go. What she’d done was annoying, sure, but was it really criminal? Had she harmed anyone? She was just trying to protect the squish-squids. He shook his head as though trying to clear it. Of course it was criminal. She’d chained herself to private equipment, refused a lawful order, and threatened to hex a man in front of witnesses. What was he thinking?

He closed the cell door and winced at the clank. Why did he feel like such a heel? And why didn’t she stop smiling at him? He’d arrested her. Fingerprinted her. Took her mug shot. And now she was sitting on a cot that sagged dangerously to the floor. And still she smiled.