spies and spells 01 - spies and spells (7 page)

Vinnie pulled into the next available spot, leaving one behind us.

“You didn’t have to make it so easy for him.” I sucked in a deep breath, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. I watched Mick get out of the car. He slammed the door. There was a stalking, purposeful intent in his walk.

He knocked on the window and motioned for me to roll it down. I didn’t have to. Vinnie did it for me.

“Do you want to tell me who you are?” He stood a foot away, legs planted a few inches apart, his arms crossed in front of him.

“I’m Maggie Park. I work at my family’s diner, The Brew. That’s it.” I smiled, trying to diffuse the situation.

Don’t use magic, don’t use magic.
I could hear Auntie Meme’s voice in my head.

Mick scanned the area around us before his attention was brought back to me.

“Can you explain what happened back there?”

“Back where?” I asked dumbfounded.

“Now you’re going to play dumb again, like you didn’t take my package, but suddenly show up at the office saying you had the package? Which is it Maggie? If that is your real name.” His jaw tensed.

“I’m not sure what happened. All I know is that I left you and someone was following us. In fact,” I kept my hands on the wheel and looked up at him. “They corralled us in that parking lot and trapped us.”

“Us?” Mick bent down, peeking into the car.

I gulped.

“Me and Vinnie.” I rubbed my hand over the dashboard. “I named my car Vinnie. You don’t have a name for your car?”

I glanced back at his mauve-colored junker. There were some lighter spots on the old jalopy, like sunspots.

“The Caprice?” He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, I love my car and I named it. That’s not weird.”
Verm, beedom,
Mentally I chanted the words in my head and waved my hand in the air, casting a little memory loss spell for good measure. “Now what was it you wanted to ask me about?”

“The package.” He squeezed his eyes together and gave his head a little shake. He swallowed. His voice was raspy as he repeated, “The package. Bring it to the station or I’ll be back at your work.”

“Fine.” I rolled the window up. Vinnie peeled out of the parking spot, leaving Mick in the middle of the road with a perplexed look on his face.

Chapter Seven

“Shit.” I huffed sitting in Vinnie at the curb at the street entrance of Belgravia Court. Our house was the first one on the courtyard and I could see Mom standing at the window with the curtain slightly pulled open. My spirit could feel her disappointment.

I was late. And I was going to get the twenty-question interrogation of why I was late. The only time I had been late was due to witchery. This time was no different.

She stepped back from the window; the curtain swayed until it came to a stop. I shook my head and took a look around me. Mick and the other cars didn’t seem to be there. Vinnie had shut down. The neighbors weren’t outside. They were probably still drying out from the rainfall from overnight.

The tree-lined courtyard was beautiful this time of year. The summer colors popped of oranges, greens, yellows, and reds. We were lucky to have all the seasons in Kentucky.

I stood on the concrete front porch and noticed the summer decorations Mom had arranged in perfect order since I had left this morning. My comment about Mrs. Hubbard must’ve gotten to her. Mom had planted real flowers in the window boxes. The garden row on each side of our front walk was dotted with coral Peonies, Tiffany roses, Peach Stock, mini green Hydrangeas, Scabosia Pods putting Mrs. Hubbard’s fake bouquets to shame.

“Did you see what your mom did in a few hours?” Mrs. Hubbard stomped out onto her porch.

Ruff, ruff, ruff
. King jumped in the air, yipping with each leap from behind her front porch screen door.

“I mean a couple of hours!” She rose her fist in the air, giving it a good shake. “The garden tour is for residents who do their own gardening, not who hire out!”

“I assure you, Mom did not hire anyone.” Now, she might have waved her hand, but it was her hand. Her magic.

“Impossible!” Mrs. Hubbard was spit-fire mad.

“I’ll see ya.” I waved ’bye and looked back at the road, at Vinnie. He wasn’t used to being on the street, normally he was parked in the garage off the alley way in the back, but I was late. I would move him later or he’d move himself.

Beep, beep
.

Ronald Lowell waved profusely out of the window of his old Chevy, parking right behind Vinnie.

“Hey, Maggie!” Giddiness was written all over his face.

A big sigh escaped my lips. “Auntie Meme,” I growled, planted a fake smile on my face and waved back. “Hi, Ronnie.”

He skipped his way up the sidewalk with a handful of rich and radiant fall colored flowers in a bouquet. He wore big thick-rimmed glasses, an old brown suit, and had his hair combed to the side.  Ronnie was a local mechanic who never asked questions about our cars. He was good at working on circuits, replacing wheels, spark plugs and all the things that Auntie Meme felt we should use the mortals for.
Blend in,
she’d say.

“Those are lovely.” I felt sorry for the guy. He’d spent most of his free time trying to woo Mom into going on a date.

“Thanks, I thought Fae would love them.” He held them proudly to his chest as he spoke of my mother. He had a huge crush on her.

“Ronald.” Mom opened the door, a surprised look on her face. Her long black hair cascaded down the front of her in waves. She wore a long black dress. She stepped to the side; the hem of her dress skimmed the hardwood floors of the entryway, her hand rested on the handle of the door, the other swept past her in a smooth motion to usher me in. “Maggie,” she noted my lateness. 

I moved past them, giving them private time when in all actuality, I was trying to get out of her line of vision and avoid her questions about where I had been. I could look at her and she’d know. I shoved my keys in my clutch and threw it on the kitchen table where Auntie Meme and Abram Callahan were sitting.

“Maggie.” Abram’s voice rose when I walked into the kitchen. He stood up and nervously ran his hands down his jeans. His grey t-shirt tucked in the front. His blond hair curled to his head. His green eyes danced with anticipation.

“Hi, Abram.” I didn’t have time for Auntie Meme and her matchmaking.

“Isn’t it nice that Abram could stop by?” Auntie Meme began to busy herself by cutting up the parsley snips from Mom’s garden, making sure to keep her eyes down.

I knew her little game. She’d been trying to fix me up with Abram since we were kids. Abram’s family lived on Belgravia Court. He was Ronnie’s employee and Mom had gotten him the job after he had come back from some fancy university and couldn’t get a job with his degree.

Abram had always kept a close eye on me. It was me that had brought his cat, Boomer, back to life after it had used up its nine. . .well. . .thirteen lives. Yes. I had brought back the stupid cat that liked to play frogger with passing cars on St. James Street while following me and Abram from Central Park when we were kids. Yes. I was supposed to keep the whole witch thing a secret, but I was a kid and Abram pinky promised he wouldn’t say anything. Still, we never spoke of it again, nor did he ask me questions about being a witch. Needless to say, Boomer was still kicking and spry as ever. And I never told him I put a life spell on Boomer. Plus Abram thought it was cute that I had a “nickname” for my car. If he only knew.

Getting Abram a job cost Mom a dinner date with Ronnie and a lifetime of unannounced “drop-ins” like he had done tonight. Only Mom had a hard time turning him away with a fistful of bright orange, deep yellow, and ruby red Gerber daisies, along with accented green leaves and salal; which happened to be Mom’s favorite.

“I appreciate the invitation.” Abram rocked back and forth on his heels, ignorant of him outing Auntie Meme.

“I’m sure you do,” sarcasm dripped out of my mouth along with a long sigh and a slight eye roll when Auntie Meme glanced over at me under her furrowed brows. She grabbed a big pot from underneath the cabinet and filled it with all sorts of stuff, topping off the mixture with fresh parsley.

“It was a wonderful day.” Lilith twirled into the kitchen. She had on a black and white polka-dot mini-dress filled with crinoline around the bottom. The waist was cinched with a wide red belt, her height extended with red high heels. Her lips dripped in a thick coat of Jockey Red.

“You!” I pointed to her lips. “You stole my Mystic Couture!”

“I didn’t steal it.” She shrugged. “Simply borrowed it for today. I had them match the fingernail polish to it. Voilà.” She wiggled her fingers up near her mouth.

“Lilith! Where is it?” I held my hand out for her to give the lipstick to me.

“A dare is a dare.”

“I did the dare. It doesn’t include stealing my crap. And it’s not.” I stopped myself. I couldn’t tell them I had sort of taken it. I refused to confess to stealing it like Mick had accused me of.

“It’s what?” Lilith’s voice lowered, her Jockey Red lined lips curled up at the edges.

“It’s what?” Auntie Meme chimed in.

“Not yours.” Abram spoke up from the kitchen table.

“Thank you, Abram.” I grabbed the floating black tube of lipstick out of the air between us where Abram couldn’t see. The fancy red lettering scrolled along the outside read Mystic Couture.

“Seriously Abram?” Lilith cocked her head to the side. “This is none of your business.”

“What is going on in here?” Mom scrambled into the kitchen, rushing to the boiling pot on the stove. “I don’t have time to listen to your bickering today. Here.” She smacked Lilith in the chest with the bouquet of flowers. “Put those in a vase.”

“God!” Lilith spat, snarling her nose and glaring at Mom. Lilith and Mom had a short fuse with each other. They acted more like sisters than mother and daughter.

After all, Mom and Dad had her when they were in their late teens, early twenties. It was thought the fertility Gods were lingering around during those ages.

“Ronnie,” Abram looked like he had swallowed a fly. “What are you doing here?”

Mom, Lilith, and I stopped and waited to see what Ronnie had to say.

“I just came by to bring Fae some flowers to go with her summer decorations because I knew she’d be hard at work in preparation of the garden tour.” Ronnie’s cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were about to sit down for supper.”

Right.
My brows lifted. Ronnie knew we ate dinner every night around five p.m. I didn’t have to use my witchy senses to tell me he wanted to be invited, but it wasn’t my place to do the inviting.

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you stopping by,” Mom’s words dripped with southern charm as she took Ronnie by the elbow and led him out to the front door. She wasn’t about to extend him an invitation, after all, it was cleansing night.

“Where are your keys, Maggie?” Abram asked with his hand out.

“Why?” I asked.

“I need to make sure Vinnie is good with his pistons. Last time I checked on the car, you had about worn him out.” Abram scratched his head. “Which is weird since you don’t drive him that much. But that’s what you get with old cars.” He shrugged. “Has it been driving all right?” he asked.

“Driving fine.” Unless he wanted to count the little hiccup today when Vinnie put us in a bind at the parking lot down on the docks.

“Keys?” Abram asked again, shoving his hand toward me.

I dragged my clutch off the table and pulled my keys out, handing them to him.

“Thanks for checking on that for us, Abram,” Auntie Meme called out just before the screen door smacked after Abram jogged down the back steps.

I sat down at the table, with the lipstick still in my grips, and looked out the window. Vinnie had already driven himself behind the brownstones and up the alley to the garage. I watched Abram disappear under Vinnie’s hood before I decided to open my mouth.

“You know I’m in no way attracted to Abram Callahan,” I informed my matchmaking auntie who was doing her hardest to ignore me. “A witch and a mortal?”

“You do know that you and your sister are about out of the fertile phase.” Auntie Meme lifted the ladle to her mouth, sipping whatever it was she was making. The old wooden floor creaked under her as her feet shifted side-to-side. “Have you seen
Bewitched
?”

“You can’t have it both ways.” My hand tightened around the lipstick tube.

“Don’t make me ask you why you were down by the docks and what business you had down there.” Auntie Meme let me know real fast that she was still in charge of the Coven.

“What both ways?” Mom asked, walking back into the kitchen.

Lilith put the vase of flowers in the middle of the table, arranging each stem. “You can’t have us follow witch rules and the mortal rules. It’s virtually impossible nowadays.”

“That.” I smacked the table with my free hand and stood up. “How do you expect us to blend in if you go by the witch phases? Phases I really don’t know all about because you tried so hard to mortalize me I’m so confused which is witch and which is mortal.”

“Good one.” Lilith gave me a high-five when I walked by her.

“Besides, I’m only twenty-eight. And if I could work anywhere else but the diner, I’d get my own apartment or something.” I nudged Lilith. “Now you on the other hand, you’re old.”

Mom rolled her eyes and walked out the back door. She always liked to check on Abram and his work. 

“I’m thirty! Not an old maid!” Lilith hollered after me as I disappeared down the hall into my room, closing the door behind me.

“We lost all hope for you,” Mom joked, sending a look toward Lilith.

I set the tube of lipstick on the dresser and took a seat on the edge of my bed. I stared at the lipstick trying to get a good witchy sense on why SKUL and Mick wanted the cosmetics. Nothing was coming to me.

Unlike the fantasized images the mortal world has of witches, we aren’t able to look into the future and see what lurked around every corner; we could only deal with what was in front of us. This lipstick and the package were in front of me and somehow it held the key to something, but what?