Miss Frost Ices The Imp: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 2) (4 page)

“Good call.” I smiled back. “Thanks for talking me down. I’ll let you know when I get back from breakfast. You want anything?”

“No, I ate before I came in. Thanks, though.” She turned to help a customer who’d come up to the counter. I made my exit, heading back to the apartment.

Spider was still asleep, and I felt a little strange being happy about that. I loved my cat. But the talking was weird. Well, maybe it wasn’t the talking that bothered me so much as not knowing why he could suddenly communicate. I’d feel better once I knew for sure what had happened.

Which was where Greyson came in. I pulled out my phone.

Breakfast at Mummy’s in ten minutes. You in?

I went to add mascara to my naked lashes. He texted back as I was slipping the tube back into my makeup bag.

Morning, love. I’m in. See you there.

I grinned. The only thing better than devouring a plate of Mummy’s chocolate-chip banana pancakes was devouring them with Greyson.

Greyson didn’t technically meet me at Mummy’s since I arrived ahead of him. No big deal. I got a table and ordered a Dr Pepper while I waited.

He was only a few minutes behind me, and in a way, I was glad I’d gotten there first. Gave me a great seat from which to watch and enjoy his entrance. He sauntered through the restaurant in his typical getup, which was sort of a darkly romantic, slightly Gothic look with a little Victorian flair thrown in—black leather pants with a lace-up fly, a billowy white shirt, and tall black boots, along with his usual pile of silver necklaces, rings and bracelets.

Mixed in with those necklaces was a black leather cord holding a little pouch. I was pretty sure his ability to walk in daylight came from whatever magical ingredients that pouch contained.

It wasn’t hard to see why he’d been hired to play one of the characters who roamed Nocturne Falls’ streets, taking pictures with tourists and generally adding to the Halloween-every-day vibe that earned the town its dollars. Not only did he look the part of the Vampire On Duty, he exuded an air of dangerous sex appeal that was exactly what you’d expect from one of the undead.

He was the quintessential vampire. And more Aidan Turner than Johnny Depp these days, but I was a hundred percent all right with that.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek before taking the seat across from me. “You look lovely.”

Sure, now that I had mascara’d both eyes. I smiled. “And you look roguishly handsome as always.”

“You flatter me.” But he smiled back, clearly pleased.

He had to know he looked good, because if I wasn’t oblivious to the admiring stares he drew from the other restaurant patrons, then he wasn’t either.

The server showed up almost instantly. Greyson always got good service. She handed him a menu. “Morning, doll. What can I get for you?”

“Coffee.” He kept his gaze on me a second longer before looking at her. “Thank you.”

“Coming right up. I’ll be right back to take your orders.” She twittered away.

He slid his hand across the table and laid it over mine. “How are you, my love? I was starting to think I’d lost your favor.”

“No. Definitely not that. I’ve just been swamped with work.” As I mentioned, I hadn’t seen a lot of Cooper lately, but I hadn’t seen much of Greyson either.

He nodded. “How’s the transition going?”

“Good so far.”

“The new employees working out, then?”

“Very well. Kip’s a fast learner, and Holly is a little quiet, but a good worker. They’re both fitting in well. The third and final employee should be arriving next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Then maybe you’ll be free for dinner more often.”

“Maybe.” I smiled as the server returned to take our order.

She beamed at Greyson. Naturally. “What can I get you, hon?”

“Steak, rare, three eggs, over easy, home fries and biscuits.” He handed her the menu.

“You got it, sugar.” After a long second, the waitress turned to me. “And for you?”

“Full stack of the banana chocolate-chip pancakes with whipped cream and a side of bacon. Oh, and I need a cinnamon bun to go. Extra frosting.” I turned over my menu to her as well.

“Coming up.” She left us, menus tucked under her arm.

Greyson popped a brow. “You’re going to need a shot of insulin after a breakfast like that.”

I grinned. “I can handle my sugar. The cinnamon bun isn’t for me, though. It’s for Juniper. Who can also handle her sugar.” Juniper might have said she didn’t want anything, but I knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t turn down a cinnamon bun from Mummy’s. “I owe her after she took me to this great estate sale this morning.”

“Oh? Did some shopping, did you?”

I sipped my Dr Pepper. “I did. Got some great stuff for my place. That’s part of why I asked you to breakfast.”

“Did you buy me a present now?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, my mouth pursed in mock judgment. “Are you saying my company isn’t already a gift?”

He laughed. “It’s all I could ever want and more.”

“Good answer. I was actually hoping you might know who lived at the house that was holding the sale. It’s that Victorian with the turret on Phantom Lane. The one with the big wraparound front porch.”

He smirked. “That describes almost all the houses on Phantom Lane. That whole neighborhood is old Victorians. But I know the one you mean, since the only one for sale recently was the Greshams’ place. What do you need to know about them?”

I kept my voice low. “Were they supernaturals?”

He hesitated. “After a fashion.”

“What’s that mean?”

“She did some card reading on the side, but it wasn’t anything serious. More of a party trick, really. But he was a psychometrist.”

I scrunched up my face in confusion. “Translation?”

Greyson put his hands out in front of him like he was holding something. “Roger Gresham claimed he could read objects. Tell you a thing’s history just by touching it. True or not, it’s what drove the success of their shop.”

“Their shop?” As suspected, my favorite vampire was a wealth of information.

“They had a curiosity shop here in town. Then, about a year ago, he apparently fell in love with another woman, filed for divorce, and left town with his new flame for life in Sedona, Arizona. Francine was heartbroken and closed the business down. But the house only went up for sale a few months ago.”

Greyson leaned in. “I think too, that without Roger to read objects, the shop lost some of its appeal. Or maybe Francine just didn’t have it in her to be surrounded by all those things that reminded her of the man who’d broken her heart. Either way, she’s become a bit of a recluse lately. On a rare occasion, you might see her at the Shop-n-Save, but that’s it. Otherwise, she rarely leaves that house. But I guess she must be moving now that the house has sold.”

I nodded. “Everything inside looked pretty much packed up. Where was their store?”

“Their old shop was where Delaney’s Delectables is now. It housed an insurance agency briefly, but they moved to a larger space and then it sat empty until Delaney took it over.”

“Huh.” I sat back. “I love that place, so I can’t say I wish the Greshams still had their shop, but it’s so sad that her husband did that to her.” I knew what it was like to feel betrayed by a man. Even if that betrayal had really been a big mix-up. Still, I crossed my arms and narrowed my gaze. “
Men
.”

His brows lifted. “Am I being included in that scurrilous company?”

I smiled. “No. But I’m keeping my eye on you.”

He grinned. “A lad can dream.”

“How do you know all this?”

He flashed a smile. “Birdie Caruthers, the sheriff’s aunt. She’s also the receptionist at the sheriff’s department and I help out with events once in a while. Crowd control, that sort of thing. Birdie likes me. And she likes to talk.”

What woman didn’t like him? Besides Juniper. “And you obviously like to listen.”

His smile stayed put. “Information is a powerful thing.”

“True enough.”

The server returned with our monstrous plates of food, and we spent the next few minutes attacking it. Well, I attacked. Greyson ate with gusto, but only one of us ended up with syrup in their hair. And it wasn’t him. In my defense, the butter was really far away.

As I dipped my napkin into my water glass to work on my sticky tresses, Greyson rested his knife on the edge of his plate. “You didn’t say why you want to know about the Greshams. Is there more to your line of questioning?”

“Yes!” How had I forgotten? Chocolate-chip banana pancakes were very distracting, that’s how. “Do you think Francine might have been selling stuff from the shop at the estate sale? Like, supernatural stuff? Because one of things I picked up seems like it might have done…
something
to Spider.”

“Many of their things were of a supernatural bent, so it’s possible. And yes, I’m sure a lot of the items up for sale today were left over from the shop. What exactly did you buy, and what did it do to your cat?”

I lowered my voice and leaned in. “I bought this fancy decorative box, which Spider proceeded to knock off the coffee table in one of his catnip-induced rampages through the apartment. Anyway, I thought the top was stuck on, but the fall cracked it open, and now he can talk.”

“Spider?”

“Yep.” I stabbed a hunk of pancake.

“You mean he meows a lot?”

“No, I mean he spoke to me.”

Greyson blinked a few times. “Your cat can talk. In actual words. English words.”

I nodded. “Yep. I swear on my uncle’s beard.”

“And you think the box and this new…ability are related.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “I can’t think of what else might have caused it. There’s some green iridescent powder inside the box. Like a magical dust maybe? Or the residue of a spell. Or some other kind of magical thing. That’s really all I have to go on. I figured if I could talk to whoever owned the box and find out what was in there, I’d at least know what I’m dealing with.”

Greyson nodded. “Francine might see you. She’s not exactly the type that takes visitors, but this is a special case.”

“I’d say. Having a talking cat is a little unnerving.”

He picked up his fork again, this time going after his home fries. “I know someone who might be able to get you in to see her.”

“Who’s that?”

He downed a mouthful of potatoes before answering. “The most connected werewolf I know. My good friend, Birdie Caruthers.”

Half an hour later, despite the paperwork waiting for me back at the office, I walked into the sheriff’s department with Greyson so he could introduce me to Birdie. No time like the present and all that. The takeout bag containing Juniper’s cinnamon roll hung from my hand. Greyson had gotten another one as a gift for the woman we’d come to see.

The older woman behind the reception desk, who I assumed was Birdie, was on the phone. “You don’t say?” She gasped. “Are you certain? Well, bless her heart, that is highly unusual. I don’t see how a deputy can help, but I’ll send someone over. Yes, right away. All right. Y’all take care now. Bye-bye.”

She hung up and turned to us, her face lighting up with a big smile when she saw Greyson. “Well, now, Greyson Garrett. This is an unexpected pleasure. What brings you in here? Did you get called in for something? Because if you did, no one said a word to me about it.”

“No, I didn’t get called in. But I did bring you a cinnamon roll from Mummy’s.” He put the container on the counter in front of her.

“That was so thoughtful! You know how I love those things.” She popped open the container and inhaled. “Oh, that’s going to ruin my lunch and I don’t even care.” She closed it and set it aside. “Now I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night, so out with it. What exactly are you after?”

He touched his hand to his chest. “I’d say I’m insulted that you think so little of me, but I appreciate a woman who gets to the heart of it.” He shifted his hand to my shoulder. “I wanted you to meet a friend of mine. She’s new in town. And since I know how much you like Christmas, I thought you ought to meet her. This is Jayne Frost, new manager of Santa’s Workshop Toy Store.”