I Wanda Put a Spell on You (An iWitch Mystery Book 2), Page 4

  “You think he’s bullying you because you made his affair with Eleanor public?” Donnie questioned.

  “Honestly, yes,” Maeve said. “There is no legitimate reason that approval for an alcohol permit should be taking this long, and he keeps brushing me off every time I try to call him or get an appointment to speak with him face to face. Besides, I got to know that man pretty well when I was looking into Nadine’s case, and I don’t care for anything I learned about him. You realize he tried to throw you under the bus, right Donnie?”

  Donnie grunted. “So I heard. It would have been easy for him. I’m the town’s black sheep.”

  “Not anymore,” Maeve said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Everyone else will figure that out soon enough.”

  “Thanks, Ms. O’Dare,” he said.

  “Call me Maeve. I’m going to go to the back and work on stocking the shelves. We never finished that yesterday with all the commotion of opening night! You man the counter.” She spun around on her heels.

  As Maeve headed to the stock room, she heard music come on over the loudspeakers. She smiled, glad that Donnie was forward-thinking. She didn’t recognize the punk-rock music he’d put on, but she found herself tapping her foot to the beat. The café’s edgy theme was appealing for Donnie’s age group, so Maeve was willing to let the teen make suggestions such as music. He had good taste.

  The flowery smell in the stock room overpowered her as she entered, and she realized that Gracie had adorned herself with her strong perfume in the small, enclosed space. Maeve’s nose tickled and she sneezed. Her fingertips sparked with a slight bit of purple light. She hadn’t known of her magickal abilities long, but in her brief studies, she’d learned that her strength was smoke and scent. Clearly, Gracie’s makeshift powder room was giving her magick a boost.

  Maeve brushed off the rush of power that zipped through her and began working on unpacking boxes. It was mostly extra mugs, various boxes of coffee beans, and a hefty supply of scotch.

  I sure do wish the place had been a little busier this morning, she thought to herself and then began to sneeze violently from the smell. One last sneeze sent a jerk of purple electric magick from her in all directions, and the room shook for a moment.

  “Uh oh,” she muttered to herself. “I wonder what that did …”

  She thought of Rodney–her unintended practice dummy, and she hoped that she hadn’t accidentally sent a bolt of magick into Donnie who was in the next room. She waited for a moment, but nothing strange happened, so she continued unpacking boxes.

  Seconds later, Donnie burst into the storage room wide-eyed. “Um, Ms. O’Dare, I mean, um, Maeve … I need some help.”

  “Help? With what?” Maeve questioned as Donnie bolted toward the front.

  “Come see for yourself!” he called out.

  She entered the main area of the café and almost fell over in shock at the crowd. There were rows of cars in the parking lot, and the line was out the door.

  “Oh dear,” she said to herself, realizing she’d given anyone within a mile of the café a serious coffee craving.

  I’m going to have to tell Gracie to watch where she sprays her perfume, Maeve thought and got right to work.

  Maeve and Donnie made a great team. He worked the register and was actually much more of a people person than Maeve had expected. He was kind to everyone, working fast while also asking politely how so-and-so was doing–holding friendly conversations with each patron. Maeve worked rapidly at preparing complicated drink orders and occasionally slipping into the back to check on whatever muffin or snack cake they had baking in the oven.

  For the next two hours, Maeve and Donnie both remained on their feet before the crowd slowly dispersed.

  A few stragglers remained behind to sit and enjoy their coffee, but she and Donnie were about ready to collapse come eleven o’clock.

  “How about a coffee on me?” Maeve offered. “I’m impressed, Donnie. You didn’t let that crazy rush trip you up at all.”

  He smiled. “Thanks. And I would love some coffee … and maybe just a minute to sit in the back and get off my feet? I think I’m going to pass out!” He laughed.

  “Sounds good,” Maeve said, pouring him a caramel cappuccino. “Take ten or whatever you need. Grab anything you want to eat.”

  “Thanks, Maeve.” He took a sip of the cappuccino and grinned. “I’ve been craving one of these for two hours now, but we got so busy!”

  He grabbed a ham and cheese pinwheel, a blueberry muffin, a chocolate chip scone, and a pumpkin spice tart. For a moment Maeve regretting offering a teen-age boy anything he wanted to eat.

  Donnie flashed her a sheepish grin. “I’m hungry.”

  Maeve laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know, growing boy. Now get out of my sight before I regret feeding you.”

  He disappeared into the back with his handful of treats.

  Maeve took a deep breath. Now that things had slowed down, she had a moment to think. She realized the morning was about gone and that Chuck Lowry hadn’t made his promised appearance. She probably should have expected that from someone like him. She’d left L.A. to get away from the Hollywood types.

  Nothing but men who make broken promises out that way.

  As she was pondering all the reasons Chuck Lowry might have forgotten his promise to return, he entered the shop.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Maeve said under her breath and stood upright behind the counter.

  He smiled as he approached, and her nose suddenly tingled. She quickly covered her nose and mouth with her hands. “Oh! God, what is that smell?” she asked as he stood right in front of her.

  He blushed. “Well, um … I’ve been helping an older gentleman named Tommy Ether at his farm this morning. A … um … a cow gave birth this morning. I played catcher.”

  “Oh! That’s just lovely!” Maeve said and then laughed, still covering her mouth and nose. “I’m so sorry, but … you really stink.”

  “I know. It’s been one of those mornings,” Chuck said with an embarrassed look about him.

  “What were you doing helping Mr. Ether on his farm?” Maeve asked curiously.

  “What? You think because I’m a celebrity that I wouldn’t stop to help an old man birth a calf?” Chuck questioned. “And shovel manure … And clean out a barn …”

  Chuck honestly looked like he was going to pass out reliving his morning to her.

  “You know what, I’m going to call you on it. You’re full of it,” Maeve said, grinning. “No, Mr. Lowry, I don’t think you are the type who would pitch in and help some old man on his farm out of the kindness of your heart. So what really happened to you this morning?”

  “Okay, you got me. I ran into the old guy last night and helped him walk a cow home that had gotten stuck in a ditch. He fed me dinner, let me stay at his place, and then I got breakfast too … and apparently that wasn’t all free. He made me work off my debt,” Chuck said, and they both laughed.

  “That sounds like Tommy,” Maeve said. “I haven’t known him long, but he will put anybody to work. Can I get you anything?”

  “How about a Columbian coffee for the road?” Chuck asked. “Black.”

  “Coming right up,” she said with a smile. “Not sticking around today?”

  “As much as I like this place, it has a bad memory for me,” Chuck said, and Maeve raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh?” she questioned.

  “Yeah.” Chuck took a sip of his coffee as soon as she handed it to him. “This gorgeous woman turned me down for a date last time I was here.”

  Maeve giggled. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

  “I can be,” he said. “Unfortunately, I’m leaving town today. But I’ll be passing back through in about month. I expect to see Listen: It’s Old Fashioned running smoothly when I return so that I can enjoy myself another Irish coffee.”

  “We’ll be here,” Maeve said.

  Chuck winked at her again before departing
. Maeve shook her head at him. That Chuck Lowry was certainly a character. She sighed and allowed herself to smile in his general direction as he made his way out the door.

  I guess he’s not so bad, she thought.

  As Chuck exited, Maeve spotted Mayor James come stumbling in through the door, practically knocking Chuck over in the process. Right behind him was a woman in a business suit; Maeve assumed it was James’s new assistant.

  “Hey! Easy, buddy!” Chuck griped before leaving.

  Maeve watched with a bit of amusement as Chuck double checked his shirt for coffee stains.

  Well, well, well–Mayor James, Maeve thought. “You sure do have some nerve coming in here,” Maeve said as James plopped down at a nearby table. “Honestly! Unless you came here to apologize for the way you’ve been treating me the past week …”

  The assistant cut Maeve off. “Please, can you get him some water?” the woman asked frantically.

  There was a sincere look of concern in her eyes that jolted Maeve.

  Maeve took a better look at James. He was wheezing. She hurried around the counter to pour him a cup of water.

  “Susan, I’m fine,” James insisted as the woman took the water from Maeve. “I just needed to sit down.”

  “No, you’re not,” Susan said. “You’re overheated.”

  James snatched the water and took several gulps.

  “Are you all right?” Maeve asked. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Susan said. “We were on our way to city hall when he asked the driver to pull over. He’s complaining of chest pains. I think we should call an ambulance.”

  “I said no!” James snapped and slammed the plastic cup down. “I just got car sick is all.”

  “You’re sweating,” Maeve said.

  “Listen, O’Dare, I said I’m fine!” he growled. “It’s been a busy morning. I only need a minute to catch my breath. Susan, why don’t you get yourself something to eat while we’re here, huh?”

  Susan hesitated, looking from the mayor over to the pastry counter. “Fine,” she said. “But if you don’t start looking better real soon, I’m calling an ambulance!” She turned to Maeve, and together the women walked over to the counter. “I guess I’ll have a coffee … and a cheese Danish, please.”

  “Coming right up,” Maeve said. “So, you must be Mayor James’s new assistant?”

  “That would be me, and you must be Maeve O’Dare,” Susan said. “The one whose calls James keeps making me forward to voicemail. I’m sorry about that. You must have struck a nerve with him. What did you do?” she asked in a whisper.

  “I helped get his formerly married ex-girlfriend arrested,” Maeve whispered back, and Susan snorted.

  “Don’t worry,” Susan said softly so that the disgruntled mayor couldn’t hear. “I got your back, hon. I’ll make sure the permit situation gets sorted out.”

  A wave of relief settled over Maeve.

  Everything’s going to work out fine, she told herself.

  Maeve smiled at the kind stranger. “Thanks! This one’s on the house, Susan.”

  Susan smiled back and thanked her. She took her coffee and Danish and turned around, to see Mayor James tumble out of his chair. Susan screamed and dropped her coffee. She ran over to the crumpled man, yelling, “Call that ambulance!”

  Chapter Four

  Chuck

  Never–and I mean never–stuff your face when an old-school farmer offers you breakfast. The old coot’s wife had made this crazy breakfast. Bacon, sliced ham, eggs, sausage, fruit–and that was only the first helping. The whole Ether clan was there this morning scarfing down food.

  The old man has two sons–the older one is married with a young daughter–and the younger one is still a teenager. I figured, when in Rome, and dove into the feast they had put before me. Turns out on a farm breakfast isn’t so much a meal to enjoy as it is human fuel to get you through morning chores. And because I stuffed my face like a dog, the old man put me to work. I guess helping an old man walk a cow home wasn’t enough to pay off the debt for sleeping quarters and the five-star breakfast.

  Let’s get one thing clear right now. I don’t work. Not like this. For me, working is standing in front of a camera and making Hollywood magic. Work is not shoveling cow crud so that Mrs. Ether has some good fertilizer for her stupid flower garden! Work is not cleaning out crapped on hay from a horse barn while the horses verbally taunt you. And work is definitely not playing catch when a cow is pushing a small calf out of her woo-hoo while listening to her moan and groan profanities that no one else can hear but me!

  Screw this farm.

  I’m starting to blister–me! Blister!

  I’ve never had blisters on my hands in my life!

  By the time Ether is kindly offering me some lunch, I know to turn the old man down. I slip out quick. As I walk down the road, I stop by the bank in town so that I have some cash to pay for a coffee. Thankfully, I have money in my account and can recall my information without a card. Last night I had swiped cash from Maeve’s home in order to pay for my drinks, and I don’t intend on doing that again.

  When I finally make it to Maeve’s café, it’s nearly eleven-thirty, and mind you I have been up since five this morning.

  Five! Who in their right mind gets up at five in the morning!

  Farmers–that’s who! And you know what I learned about farmers today? They are out of their minds. Absolutely bonkers! Man is not meant to work that hard or that early.

  And of course when I reach the café, Maeve pinches her nose to inform me that I stink!

  Why didn’t I find a place to take a shower before coming here?

  I’ve never been so desperate around a woman before. But I need her to figure me out. She needs to know that I am Wanda so that she can change me back. When she’s not looking, I take a sniff at myself, and … dang, she was right. I smell like the wrong side of a pig.

  I attempt some mild-mannered flirting with Maeve, but she seems very unfazed by it.

  I suppose I can’t blame her; I am probably one shovel of manure shy of having cartoon stink lines coming off me.

  I order some dark Columbian coffee, and let her know I’ll be back in town in about a month. I think it’s a smart move. She’ll be expecting me.

  Thinking about me.

  Looking forward to it, maybe? Oh, yeah. I got this.

  Leave her wanting more. I head out the door, and on my way out, that dope of a mayor comes barging in, almost knocking me over.

  “Hey! Easy, buddy!” I snap at him because I almost spill my coffee. Then I get a whiff of death. It’s like I’m still part dog when I’m human. I stare at him as he passes by me. Should I say something to him?

  Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

  He does look pretty awful, though. The Mayor’s kind of fat, probably just winded himself from walking to the café. His new assistant apologizes to me on James’s behalf as she scoots on past.

  Whatever.

  I march on. The question now is what to do with the rest of my day. It’s pretty obvious with the grand opening of her coffee shop that Maeve isn’t going to pay me any attention today. So, I might as well make arrangements for next month to pull out all the stops.

  I figure if I can make Maeve like me, then we’ll spend more time together, and if we spend more time together, she is bound to figure out that I am Wanda. And once she finds out I’m Wanda–that I’m cursed–she will be able to help me.

  Kind of hard to get to know someone when they’re brushing you off, though. And, I definitely don’t want next month to come around and get stuck staying on Ether’s farm smelling like muck and cow placenta again.

  I’ve been walking and sipping my coffee for about ten or fifteen minutes when an ambulance and a couple of police cars go zipping past me. They are heading in the direction of Maeve’s café.

  What the heck is going on?

  The mayor probably had a heart attack. I knew something didn’t sit right with me abo
ut him. I kind of feel bad now. I should have said something before I left.

  But I mean, what would I have said?

  Hey, dude, you smell like you’re about to keel over? Trust me, it’s my doggie super sense that’s tingling.

  Yeah, because that would have made sense.

  Then a terrifying thought strikes me. What if the ambulance isn’t for the mayor? What if it’s for Maeve? Surely not, but I am suddenly overcome with fear. I fight the urge to run all the way back–because I don’t want to look like a nut job, plus, I don’t need too many people asking questions. I speed walk, though, passing various town shops. As I toss my now empty coffee cup into a trash bin outside the local pizza parlor, a black bird swoops down and nearly gives me a heart attack as it lands on the bin.

  “Ah!” I shriek in surprise. “Stupid bird.”

  “Are you Wanda?” the thing asks.

  Great. So I guess I can understand any creature–not just the four legged kind.

  What about bugs?

  I don’t want to find out.

  “Beat it,” I say to the bird, but then I pause. “Wait, did you call me Wanda?”

  “Awe man, Lulu was right!” the crow caws. “You can understand me!”

  I look around, relieved that I don’t see anyone on the street at the moment. “Who the heck is Lulu?” I ask.

  The crow snickers. “The cow your hand was up all morning.”

  I shudder, thinking of the calf delivery. “Okay, and how did that cow know the name Wanda?” I ask.

  “Word spreads fast, buddy,” the crow says.

  Great, the animal kingdom is gossiping about me now. At least what they say won’t be published in the gossip columns in L.A.

  “Whatever,” I say and then continue my speed walk, but the bird flutters ahead of me, landing on a street lamp a short distance ahead. His dark eyes remain fixed on me.

  “So how does a dog magically turn into a man?” the crow asks.

  “You got it backwards,” I say. “Now shoo!”

  “Awe, come on! We’re pals. Buddies. I’ve never had a person understand me before,” he says. “Listen, Wanda—”

  “Chuck,” I warn. “Call me Wanda, and I swear, next time I’m in hound form, I’ll make you my lunch, bird boy.”