Hex on the Beach (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 1) (20 page)

“It’s Harpin,” Ranger X repeated. “He’s disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “What do you mean disappeared?”

“There’re a few options.” Ranger X crossed his arms. “Number one, he left for vacation and didn’t tell anyone.”

“Unlikely, considering recent events,” I said. “Plus, this island
is
a vacation.”

Ranger X nodded. “That, and the fact that his store was left open. Anyone could’ve waltzed in and taken things. As uncharming as the man may be, nobody can say he’s not a shrewd businessman. He’s got some expensive teas and ingredients in his stockroom, so it’s unlikely he’d disappear without locking his store. The man secures it with six levels of hexes, spells, and charms just to use the restroom.”

“I’m assuming you have other theories?”

“Three of them.”

I was busy drawing my own conclusions but kept them to myself. I wanted to hear Ranger X’s theories before I spewed my own.

“Number one, he’s up to no good,” Ranger X said. “He might be hiding out after yesterday’s events. Waiting for the opportunity to pounce. He’s smart—which could mean he’s staging his own disappearance. That’d explain the unlocked store.”

I tried my best to maintain composure. “That’s number one. What are the other theories?”

“Number two is similar to the first. Harpin might be voluntarily hiding, but for different reasons. Maybe he’s afraid someone’s after him. Which, in the light of recent events, isn’t entirely wrong.”

“Who would be after him? Nobody else even knows about the stunt he pulled in the tea shop…” I looked up. “You’re after him? I
told
you not to do anything to hurt him.”

“I have grounds to arrest Harpin. Which I plan on doing when I find him. That brings us to the third theory—someone’s already found him.”

My jaw dropped. “Who else would be looking for him?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, now isn’t it?”

Ranger X left soon after he divulged his theories, but not before he set my skin on fire with a grasp of my arm and a murmur in my ear, reminding me to call him via the Comm device at the first sign of trouble. Though his whispers were nothing but business, they didn’t help reduce the ever-growing list of emotions I associated with his presence. Anger, gratefulness, possibly a bit of desire, a touch of embarrassment.

“Cheer up, sugar plum,” Poppy said, her cheerful voice brightening the dim room.

“Hey,” I said, scooting over on the plush couch and patting the cushion next to me. The fire crackled in the hearth, the warmth combating the chill from an outside breeze. The windows were open, letting the salty sea air drift through the cottage. “How you doing? I missed you guys today. I can’t believe Gus kept me locked up in here for ages.”

“We missed you too.” Poppy patted my leg. “But believe me, you didn’t really
miss
anything if you catch my drift. I mean, I love this family to death, God help me. But we are
not
meant to live in the same house.”

I offered a sympathetic wince. “Things got ugly?”

“Let’s just say my mother’s hair is orange, Trinket’s hair is blue, and Hettie has locked herself in her room and been cackling nonstop for the past thirty minutes.” Poppy shook her head. “And those are just the after-dinner stunts. It doesn’t include the cooking fiasco. Don’t ask.”

“I’m glad you stopped by.” I exhaled a long, slow breath. “Talk about a day.”

“Tell me about it.” Poppy sat back, kicking her legs up on the seat of the couch and leaning against my shoulder. “I don’t have anything else to say except I’m getting antsy from being here, and it’s hardly been twenty-four hours. They aren’t allowing us outside. We can’t even
look
at The Twist.”

I hardly heard the second half of Poppy’s sentence. I was too distracted by the easy familiarity with which my cousin laid her head on my shoulder, examined her fingernails, and curled up close without a second thought.

Having not grown up with siblings, or even much in the way of friends, I didn’t know how to react. I liked it, her head resting on me, but it felt strange. I’d constructed a bubble of personal space so large I could take off like a hot air balloon.

Touching another person was such an intimate gesture, reserved only for a select few I’d invited into my bubble. Not that I’d invited anyone into my bubble for years. A few bad experiences had led to me constructing hard walls instead of a soft, pliable bubble, and I preferred to be alone.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Poppy tilted her head to look at me. “Why’d you go quiet?”

“Oh, no, sorry. Just thinking—I have a lot in my brain right now.” I laughed. “I’ve pretty much memorized that entire book.”

“That fat thing?” She nodded toward
The Magic of Mixology
. “Dang, girlfriend. Your brain must weigh about thirty pounds to hold all that info.”

“Feels like it.” I sighed.

“C’mon, just start talking. It’ll feel good,” Poppy said. “Spill the beans about anything you want. Ready? Go.”

“I don’t want to bore you.”

“I’ll tell you if I’m bored. Start talking. Just go with it. Go until you can’t talk anymore.”

“What do I say?”

“You’ve never done this?” Poppy asked with incredulity. “Cripes. Say anything. Start with:
Poppy is making me do the stupidest exercise
.”

I laughed again.

“Don’t laugh, just do it already.”

“Poppy is making me do the stupidest exercise to ever have been invented,” I said, the laughter still present in my voice. “Because the last thing I want to do is talk after a long day in which Gus banged my shins more times with his cane than I can count, and…” I paused for a breath.

“Keep going,” Poppy prodded. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

Over the next ten minutes, I moaned and whined, griped and complained about everything I could think to say. At one point, I stopped thinking and let the words tumble like uncontrollable somersaults, cartwheeling off into every direction without a wisp of a filter.

“Dang,” Poppy said once I’d finished. “That was a lot of word vomit. Feel better?”

“Wow.” I stared at my cousin like a deer in headlights. “Yeah. I feel great.”

I’d filled her in on everything from the first page of memorization to the last. I’d explained how Gus had pushed me to the edge of a mental breakdown, then just when I neared the edge of throwing my arms up and begging to quit, he’d give me the push I needed to keep going—a hint of positive reinforcement that gave me the strength to go on, to turn the page, to Mix one more imaginary drink.

Poppy had
awwed
with sympathy, grunted with frustration,
hmmed
with a thoughtful expression at all of the appropriate times. But when I got to the part about Ranger X appearing in this room, her jaw had dropped. Thankfully, she hadn’t said anything.

“So Ranger X was in this room?” Poppy asked. “This very room?”

I nodded.

“I think it’s cute. Y’all are like high schoolers, sneakin’ through the windows to smooch each other.” Poppy sighed. “High school, that’s what the humans call it, yeah?”

“It’s not
cute
,” I said, and an eerie sense of déjà vu hit me. I realized I sounded like him. “He’s not my type.”

“Fine. Apparently your type is boring and ugly.” Poppy swung her legs to the floor and sat up, staring at me. “What was he here for, anyway?”

I filled her in on the rest of the details, from Harpin’s mysterious disappearance to Ranger X’s warning to remain here and continue my studies. I skipped the part where he touched my wrist and sent ribbons of fire to my stomach, but she might’ve guessed anyway, since I looked away to hide my red cheeks.

“Sounds like you need a drink.” Thankfully, Poppy didn’t pester me about Ranger X and his lips any further.

“Wine?” I asked. “I think I saw some—”

“Better idea.” Poppy hopped to her feet. “Has anyone explained to you about the Menu
yet?”

I shook my head.

“Well, I can’t think of a better time to do it.” Poppy crossed her arms, her face taking on a teacher-esque expression. “It combines your studies, a bit of fun, and adult beverages.”

“That sounds too good to be true.”

“Well, it’s not.”

“Explain to me, then, Miss Poppy. What is a Menu?”

“Well, ever since the beginning of time, each Mixologist has created his own customized potion list.” Poppy grinned. “They choose a theme. For example, one of them focused on creating love potions. Their menu has items like the Kissing Kup and the Sexy Spritzer. Another Mixologist was into fitness, so he created Muscle Milkshakes and Slimming Sunrises. That last one is awesome. I lost three pounds before my last date.”

“What happens with these menus?”

“Think of it like a legacy.” Poppy tapped her chin in thought. “I suppose you haven’t seen the Menu
board yet. Behind the bar, there’s a huge chalkboard that populates as you create each drink. You wouldn’t have noticed because the slate is wiped clean when each Mixologist passes on, leaving it blank for the next one.”

“Can you still order their drinks? Or does their Menu
retire when they… pass on?”

Poppy nodded. “You can get them, but it’s sort of a specialty item. The main point of the Menu
project is for the legacy—to leave something behind when you’re gone. Sorry, that sounds morbid.”

“It’s life, I guess.”

“What’s your theme going to be?”

I bit my lip. “Well, seeing as how I didn’t know these Menus were a thing, I haven’t given it any thought.”

“Well, what do you like? Let’s brainstorm your theme.”

“Hmm.” My mind went blank.

“What do you like?” Poppy asked. “It’s not that hard.”

I blushed. “I like marketing. I was good at it. That was my last job.”

“Huh. That’s… cool.” Poppy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really know what that means, but this is supposed to be fun. The way you say
marketing
,
it doesn’t sound enjoyable. What do you do for fun?”

“I’m not into fitness, or exercise of any sort really. My love life is crap, so that’s out. I don’t have a ton of hobbies… I always liked mixing drinks, but now that makes a whole ton more sense than it did when I was in the Twin Cities.”

“What sort of drinks did you make there?”

“All the regulars. I like plain stuff—vodka and soda, wine, whiskey on the rocks…” I hesitated. “It was always more fun to make drinks for others, because they liked the fancy stuff. Margaritas, Cosmopolitans, Sex on the Beach—”

Poppy’s eyes widened. “What? You’re allowed to have sex on the beach? I mean, I can’t lie, I’ve always wondered how that would work.” She leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Doesn’t sand just get… you know,
everywhere
? Like, all up in there?”

“It’s just the name of a drink!” My face burned.

“Oh, cripes.” Poppy fanned herself. “You didn’t seem like the real exploratory type, but I suppose you never know. It’s usually the quiet ones.”

“
Poppy!
”

“What if you did some sort of human theme to your menu?” She looked at the ceiling. “I think… yes, I’m fairly certain you’re the only Mixologist who has ever been off The Isle. Most of them were born here, and once it’s confirmed they’re next in line, they spend most of their lives training for the job. It can be your unique twist.”

“A twist on human drinks…” I tapped my lip with my forefinger. “I like it.”

“Just… I dunno, make your human drinks more magical, and
boom
. You’re all set!”

I stood and paced the same circle I had walked a million times already today. By my fourth lap, I held up a finger. “I’ve got it. Know how we have Sex on the Beach?” I clarified quickly. “As a drink?”

Poppy nodded.

“
Hex on the Beach!
”

Poppy leapt up from the couch, clapping. “Excellent. Let’s get started.”

“Started on what?”

“Your drink, silly. What do you want it to do?”

“What do you mean…
do
?”

“It’s magic.” Poppy rolled her eyes. “Make it do
something.
Anything. You could make the drinker giggle uncontrollably, snort instead of laugh, bark like a dog—it doesn’t have to be serious. In fact, why don’t you make one for me? I want a potion to attract men.”

“I don’t want to attract men. I seem to attract the rude ones, and I want to get rid of them.”

“Then make a man-repellent.” Poppy smiled. “It’s perfect! Say you want to run out to the grocery store in your sweat pants. You just put on this potion from a spray bottle, and the men stay away. You can call it…
Stay-Away Spray.
It doubles as the name and the description.”

“I like where your head’s at.” I looked around the room. “Now, where do we start?”

“You’re the Mixologist.”

“I haven’t mixed a single thing yet.”

“How about that drink that killed Leonard?”

“I didn’t kill Leonard!”

“Oh, right…” Poppy pursed her lips. “So you’ve really never done magic?”

I shook my head. “Gus says I have to learn all the rules first.”

“Didn’t you say you memorized that entire chunk of paper?” Poppy eyed the massive book on the table.

“Unfortunately, yes.” I sighed. “Well, not unfortunately I suppose, but it sure would’ve been nice to spread it out over a few more days.”

“Well, you know how the saying goes—you gotta learn the rules before you can break them.”

“How does that apply?”

“You just learned all the rules!” Poppy clapped again. “Now you get to break them.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m going to dig up what Hettie has in the cupboards while you get cooking,” Poppy said. “Time to sink or swim, my dear. Either Mix some drinks, or go study some more. You can’t study for the rest of your life, can you?”

“It’s only been a couple of days.”

“Exactly. Time to get a move on.” Poppy looked around the room. “This is the first time I’ve been glad we’re locked up at this cottage. Hettie has spent
years
developing The Twist for moments just like this. If I sneak out fast, she won’t notice. I’ve been perfecting a hidden route for years.”

“And how do you see us using a maze to help create beverages?”

“The Twist is
so
much more than a labyrinth.” Poppy grabbed my shoulders. “Hettie has been cultivating the rarest flowers, a variety of foreign herbs, a smorgasbord of specialty plants—whatever you need, it’s all there. She won’t notice if some goes missing. In fact, she’d love to give you some. She enjoys breaking the rules more than anyone.”