Miss Frost Ices The Imp: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 2) (24 page)

“That would be great.”

She smiled. “Let’s go introduce you to Mattie, then.”

Matilda Sharpe came around from the back of the cottage as we got out of the car. She was a woman of average height, above-average curves and the owner of an infectious smile. Her whiskey-brown eyes and matching twin braids made a pretty picture combined with the smattering of freckles across her cheeks. I’d never met a magical beekeeper before (who had?), but Matilda seemed to fit that description perfectly.

She wore an ivory apron over a long-sleeved, pink plaid shirt and denim shorts that showed off shapely tanned legs. The pockets of her apron held a few gardening tools, and the smudges of dirt on the fabric clearly said it wasn’t just for looks. She wiped the hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand as she approached. She nodded to Delaney. “Hey.”

Delaney nodded back. “Hi, Mattie.”

She stopped in front of me, her gaze pointed and assessing. “You must be the winter elf who set the imp free.”

“That’s me, but it wasn’t on purpose, I assure you.”

A pair of bees buzzed past me. I held still as they landed on her shoulder. They weren’t something I was familiar with, and in truth, they scared me a little. I didn’t want to get stung.

Mattie didn’t seem to have that concern, since she acted like they weren’t even there. “Tell me again how it happened.”

“How the imp got free? I bought the box from Francine Gresham’s estate sale, brought it home, my cat knocked it off the coffee table and the lid popped free. I didn’t even know there’d been anything in the box until all the nonsense in town started happening.”

She nodded, then glanced at the bees and tipped her head at them. Like she was listening. Were they saying something?

I didn’t hear a thing.

When the bees took off, she looked at me again. “The bees say you’re telling the truth.”

“They can tell?”

“Bees pick up on vibrations humans can’t register. And I can understand the bees. It’s my gift. Been in my family a long time.”

“That’s very cool. Does me telling the truth mean you’re going to give me some of your honey?”

She smiled. “Yes. But it’ll take me a moment. I need to tell the bees the purpose of the honey first, then harvest it.” She wiggled her fingers. “Work my magic, as it were.”

A small swarm of bees flew overhead.

I ducked.

Mattie grinned. “Come on in the house, both of you. You can wait there.”

We followed her. The cottage was just as cute inside as it was out and still just as English.

“Have a seat at the table there if you like.” She pointed toward the small kitchen table covered with a floral cloth. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m all right.” I glanced at Delaney.

She shook her head. “All good here.”

“Back in a bit, then. There’s lemonade in the fridge if you get thirsty.” She started for the door.

I had to ask. “Aren’t you going to put on protective gear so you don’t get stung?”

Mattie smiled. “My bees never sting me.”

“Nice.”

She left us, and Delaney settled back in a chair. “If this honey doesn’t do the trick, I have no idea what to try next, but I have a feeling it’ll work. Especially after your aunt’s fudge showed so much promise.”

I thought about that. “You think because that fudge was made by an elf—”

“Not just an elf,” Delaney said. “But a very special one. Santa Claus’s better half.”

“So you think Mattie’s magic honey might do the trick because it’s also produced by a supernatural?”

“I do. It’s got the whole supernatural element, but it’s also of the earth. That deeper connection might just be the thing.”

I took a breath. “I sure hope you’re right.” A few moments of silence passed. “How long have you known Mattie?”

“Not long. She just moved here a few months ago. She’s a friend of the brother and sister who own the winery we passed. He was looking for help pollinating the vines, so he called her.”

“I still don’t think I understand what kind of supernatural she is.”

“The most I can tell you is that she’s an ancient kind of Celtic witch. A green witch, like Corette’s daughter Marigold, but a very specific type that has this gift with bees. It’s pretty rare, from what I know.”

I looked around. “Celtic? That explains the house.”

“Looks straight out of an English village, doesn’t it?” Delaney smiled. “Hugh’s grandmother loves it. She lives just down the road. I’ve heard her mention it at least three or four times since Mattie’s been here.”

“Well, the cottage didn’t just magically appear when she arrived. Who built it?”

Delaney’s brows rose. “Actually, it kind of did.”

“Are you serious?”

“I told you she was a witch.”

The cottage door opened, and Mattie came in holding a small Mason jar filled with liquid gold. She held it out to me. “I took a bit of the honeycomb, too. Use it. The wax holds a scent that should help draw the imp in.”

I took the jar. It was warm and weighty, and I was instantly filled with hope. “Thank you so much.”

Delaney hoisted herself upright. “If I weren’t pregnant, I’d be asking for a couple bottles of your mead.”

Mattie smiled. “As soon as the baby’s born, I’ll make you some.”

“Mead is…” I looked at both of them.

“Wine made from honey,” Mattie answered.

Delaney made a happy little sound. “Her mead really is magical. Sweet and delicious and just the best stuff I’ve ever tasted.”

Sounded awesome.

Mattie bobbed her head. “Much appreciated. Same shipment of honey this week for the store?”

“Yep,” Delaney said. “Those honey bourbon truffles are a big hit. Or so I’ve heard.” She patted her stomach. “One more thing this kidlet is keeping me from tasting.”

“I’ll be by with the jars as usual, then.”

“Great,” Delaney said. “I’ll see you later. And thanks again for your help with this.”

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you. I have a good feeling that this honey is going to do the trick. One question…is it okay if I taste the honey? I mean, it won’t hurt me, will it?”

Mattie laughed. “You can taste it all you like. Just leave enough for the imp.”

“I promise.”

We left Mattie’s, and Stanhill, who’d read the paper in the car while he’d waited, drove us back to town. They dropped me off at the shop.

“Call me tomorrow,” Delaney said. “I have to know if this works.”

“Will do.” I gave her a wave, the jar of honey snug in my other hand. As the car pulled away, I set the jar on the sidewalk to get my key out. That felt safer than fumbling around and risking dropping it.

Once in, I went straight upstairs and set up the box with the new bait. The honey smelled amazing as I dripped it into the bottle cap along with the little bit of wax I’d cut free with a knife. I couldn’t resist having a little taste. Sweet and floral and utterly delicious. If the imp didn’t like this, I might just have to take my dad up on his offer to freeze the whole town.

I went downstairs to check in at the shop and let Juniper and Kip know I’d returned, then I finally headed into my office. The entire space smelled of cinnamon, and I grinned at the Mummy’s bag on my desk. That muffin had been great, but there was always room for a little cinnamon roll. Or a lot, in the case of Mummy’s.

Then I frowned. I’d locked my office before I’d left. And Juniper had just told me that the cinnamon roll was in a bag in
front
of my door.

“Hello, beautiful.”

I jumped and shrieked as I turned. Greyson stood against the far wall looking at some family photos on top of the filing cabinet.

He frowned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“How did you get in here?”

He shrugged. “You’re not the only one good at breaking and entering. Which reminds me, that’s a pretty basic lock on that door. You should upgrade it if you really want to keep whatever’s in here secure.”

I frowned right back. “I don’t know how I feel about you breaking into my office.”

He nodded. “Understood. But I didn’t think you’d want me loitering outside either. I know I’m not Juniper’s favorite supernatural. If I overstepped, I’m very sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” And it was. I trusted Greyson. Just like I trusted Cooper. “And you’re right. Juniper would have freaked if she’d walked into the warehouse and bumped into you.”

“I wouldn’t have done it, except I have some news.”

That got my attention. “You do? About the imp?”

“Sort of. Your idea that Francine is hiding something got me thinking. After I left your place last night, I went by her house. And did a little investigating on my own.”

“Investigating? What’s that mean?”

He hesitated. “It means I went inside and had a look around.”

“Greyson.” I stared at him. “You just warned me about doing that.”

“I realize the irony, but I’m a vampire. I’m much faster than you, and my skills allow me to be very stealthy.”

“Apparently.” I crossed my arms. “So what did you find out?”

“I’m not sure.” He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. “I saw this in the butler’s pantry off the kitchen. She’s got all her shipping and packing supplies in there for the business. Her laptop was in there too, but I didn’t even touch that.”

“No wonder why I couldn’t find that stuff.”

He turned his phone so I could see a picture on the screen.

I squinted at it until I sort of understood what I was looking at. “A wooden crate?”

“A wooden crate
and
lid
and
the packing foam that was custom fit to whatever was originally shipped in that box. Look familiar?”

I peered at the picture again, then used my fingers on the screen to zoom in. The shape in the foam was about the size of the box upstairs. I glanced at him. “Is this the original packaging from the imp box?”

He nodded.

“Okay. But I don’t get why this is news. I already know it was shipped to her. That’s how she got it.”

He swiped to the next picture. “But look who she was getting ready to send it to.”

I glanced at the phone. There was no need to blow up the photo this time. The new label on the crate very clearly read Roger Gresham. The address was in Arizona, which was where Greyson had said he’d moved to.

I blinked, mulling that over. “I don’t get it. Her husband ordered the imp? Why wouldn’t he just buy it for himself? And why would she be doing him a favor when she must hate the guy?”

Greyson laughed and kissed me. “I love how sweet you are, Princess. Always thinking the best about people. Never change.”

“What?”

“I doubt he knows anything about the imp. Look at the return address.”

I checked the picture again. The return address listed Saul Zabarski as the sender. And he was apparently in Greensboro, North Carolina. “I don’t know what to make of that.”

Greyson clicked the phone off and put it away. “I do. Francine is Saul.”

My mouth gaped as everything fell into place. “Of course. She’s the one who wants revenge.”

“And she’s moving to Summerfield, North Carolina. Her sister lives there. Summerfield is right outside of Greensboro. It would be very easy to send a package from there and get the right postmark. For all we know, she’s created this Saul character and used this alias to befriend Roger. He might even be expecting this package, thinking it’s something else of course.”

“Wow. She’s craftier than I guessed.”

He nodded. “Indeed. And think about how easy it would be to hurt someone with the imp. All you’d have to do is open the box, speak the control words to set your wishes in order with the imp, then seal it up again and send it on its way.”

“With some kind of note that would get the recipient to open the box and release the imp, allowing it to fulfil those wishes.” I looked at Greyson. “She could have wished for anything. For the imp to burn down Roger’s house. Or for him to be covered in boils. Or for his you-know-what to fall off. That would be poetic. Considering.”