Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) (15 page)

I was never going to drive down dark roads in the rain ever again.

“It’s all in the bathroom.” I think I may have pouted as I said that.

“
And, how about . . .” I tensed. Nearly moaning the loss of something else of mine.

“
Making some Cosmos?” Our girls’ night drink? Morgan wanted to make our special girls’ night drink while she gave Bigfoot a makeover with
my
stuff?

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Maybe after a couple three Cosmos I might not feel the need to scream and beat my head against the wall.

“I’d like a whisky, Doll.” Al jumped down onto the chair and then the floor. Morgan took the tub and they went to collect my stuff for Harley. Stupid name. I could hear them whispering as they walked out.

I pulled down the vodka, triple sec and whisky from an upper cupboard and the cranberry juice and a fresh lime from the fr
idge. I got down three martini glasses and Al’s bowl. I started mixing the first drink and decided “to hell with it” and downed the shot of vodka.

My eyes, nose and throat burned. I coughed and choked and contemplated screaming all over again.

“Doll, you all right?” Al hollered from my bathroom.

“
Fine.” I coughed again. “Just have a tickle in my throat.”

I couldn
’t harm Bigfoot. My conscience and my two best friends wouldn’t let me. I might not like Harley - was jealous and convinced she was out to ruin my life and take all of my friends away - but I could’t do anything more to hurt her than I already had.

Being reduced to a whiny adolescent by a large pile of fur did not sit well with me. I chugged another shot of vodka to deal.

I know I have crappy coping skills. Nonexistent or immature could be interchangeable with crappy. I get it. I do.

I was also perfectly comfortable with those coping skills at the moment. Bigfoot reigned supreme on my pull-out. How is one witch with a host of issues supposed to compe
te with one not-so-mythological creature?

19. My Life In Ruins.

Okay. Fine. I
’ll admit it.

Harley
’s not such a bad name after all.

It suited her.

I’d had my doubts when I woke up with a nasty headache and a bad taste in my mouth, but after a lovely healing spell and a strong cup of joe, I’d decided it wasn’t so bad.

That might have had to do with the gorgeous fuchsia glistening on the end of my fingers. Or the extra bounce and limited amount of frizz in my curls.

Mostly, I think it had to do with Al sleeping with me last night, and Morgan sleeping with Bigfoot on my pull-out.

Regardless, I was feeling much more mellow in regards to Harley.

I’d had a fuzzy memory of closing my black out drapes when we’d hauled out the Twister game around 4 am, but I didn’t trust my memory after all those Cosmos. So when I’d woken with the sun heating my face, I’d fallen out of bed in my rush to check the living room.

I now had several shots of my UDBF spooning Bigfoot o
n my phone. I planned to make judicious use of them as the need arose.

“
Hey, Doll, you make coffee this morning?” Al swayed slightly in the doorway, his bulging eyes at half mast.

I started to nod, got a really good look at him and promptly choked on my c
offee.

“
You okay?” Al yawned. He sat down and used his hind leg to scratch his left ear. I choked some more.

“
Ahm finn.” I set my coffee mug on the counter and nonchalantly swiped my phone from the counter. Al looked up when he heard the click of my camera phone. I cleared my throat, chanted the words to a quick healing spell and waved my hands in his direction.

“
Thanks, Doll.” He cocked his head to the side as he stared at my phone.

“
You ready to go outside?” I slid the phone into my back pocket and casually strolled out of the kitchen.

We walked back upstairs in record time. Al in desperate need of a lick of coffee.

Morgan and Harley were just waking up as I shut the front door. The make over had been a truly brilliant idea. Harley looked, and more importantly smelled, wonderful.

Turned out, Harley was mostly a chestnut brown with chocolate lowlights. She had a slight curl along her shoulders, distinct auburn eyebrows, and currently a gorgeous shade of cranberry on her finger and toenails.

Her fur had a lovely soft sheen to it. In the sunlight, I’d bet it would glisten. It was combed and brushed, not a single knot or stray leaf anywhere. My right arm and shoulder could attest to that. It took both Morgan and myself a solid couple of hours to get all the snarls out. And that was after a good scrubbing, most of my shampoo and all of my conditioning products.

I
’d had to place another order for hair products online and pick overnight shipping. Not something I’ve ever had to do or will ever do again. Overnight shipping is outrageous!

Unfortunately, I do have a rather good imagination. My fingers didn
’t even hesitate over the insane cost after I pictured my curls without some form of conditioner. The utter horror.

Morgan cracked open one eye and moaned. Bigfoot e
choed the sound. I cast two more healing spells.

“
Thanks, Kate.” Morgan started to sit up, frowned at her arm and leg - both wrapped around Harley - and then did one of those lightening fast vampire moves. She was out of bed and standing next to me before I could blink.

I kept my lips sealed. I would have been horrified to wake up in bed cuddling a stranger myself. Never mind all that fur.

Besides I had all I needed on my phone.

Harley sat up slowly. She only winced a few times which told me I
’d be able to get rid of - um - drive her back to where I ran - ah - came across her by tomorrow at the latest.

Harley smiled at Morgan, nodded to me and began looking around for Al. That
’s when she noticed her fur. Harley was definitely all female. She gasped and cooed and purred, all the while stroking every bit of fur she could reach. She went nearly orgasmic when she noticed her nails.

I
’d fluffed my curls three times already so I could relate. There is nothing quite like knowing you look your best. Doesn’t matter if you’re a witch or a Bigfoot.

Morgan glanced at the blackout shades. “
Is it daylight already?” I checked out her glorious locks, but I didn’t notice anything different. Morgan always looks perfect and gorgeous.

“
It’s nearly eleven.” I took a sip of warm coffee. “I’ve got to leave in a couple minutes. I’ve got some UVBGone in the back of the bathroom cabinet.” I kept a bottle on hand. Just in case.

I smiled widely at Harley just before I whispered a sleep spell. It had nothing to do with any lingering irri
tation I might still be feeling. I simply had to go to work and I couldn’t risk Harley wanting to go for a walk.

Honest.

Okay, maybe not entirely, but I still had to go to work and I truly couldn’t risk Harley exploring.

“
I’ve got to run. My new secretary is starting today and I don’t want to be late.” I wanted to squeal. I sounded like such a professional business witch. Secretary. I had my own secretary.

I settled for a toss of my beautifully bouncing, frizz-free curls.

“You’ve hired someone already?” Morgan tilted her head to the side. Puzzled like. Much like Al when I remind him I don’t like to kill people.

I tilted my head too. Very, very odd. Twice now I
’ve had to explain parts of my life to my UDBF when I’ve never had to before.

“
Yeah. Her name is Désirée Norma-Sue.” Morgan’s emerald eyes fluttered slightly. “She’s a redneck fairy.”

Her brows arched into sultry peaks. “
How do you know her?” Morgan’s as trustful as I am.

“
Terry recommended her.” Morgan nodded slowly.

“
A fairy this far north? She knows it snows here, right?”

A fairy
’s wings are seriously delicate.

“
Yep.” I paused. “I think she’s on the run from something.” Morgan scowled. Even her wrinkles were divine. “It’s nothing to worry about. At least not immediately.”

I checked the time and headed for the door. I picked up my purse on the way. “
I’ve really gotta go. Take your time. I recorded ‘Being Human’.” Morgan loved any shows with vampires. “And they’re having a Buffy marathon on this afternoon.”

“
Sounds like a popcorn day.”

I
’m fairly certain Morgan wouldn’t eat the popcorn. However, Al was a huge Buffy fan. And Morgan couldn’t resist his bulging eyes anymore than the rest of us could.

I
’d just opened the door when Al hollered from the kitchen.

“
Doll!”

He
’d just noticed his pink toenails.

***
*

Dé
sirée Norma-Sue arrived a scant five minutes after I did at exactly eleven o’clock. I decided right then and there that punctuality was an important habit for an employee to have. I was thrilled with both my new employee and the fact I was a business witch with an actual employee.

I wasn
’t one hundred percent sure what to make of Désirée’s hair. Today it was a combination of purple and black streaks. The curls were styled in a . . . Well, let’s just call it a complicated manner.

She
’d taken my dress code talk to heart. She wore a thin black mock turtle neck. It had short sleeves and her arms sparkled ever so slightly. She’d accompanied the shirt with faded jeans and a wide black leather belt with an enormous rhinestone buckle. She had black biker boots on her feet.

I
’d put on a blue t-shirt, jeans and my standard black biker boots this morning. I hadn’t attempted a belt. I couldn’t find a single one in my closet that wanted to fit and I refused to buy a larger size.

I
’d put my curls into a top knot half an hour before I left. I wasn’t sure if they were in the same position still or had taken on a new look entirely.

We could have been sisters. Biker sisters.

“Mornin’ Kate.” Her lazy drawl banished the daydream before it could even take place.

“
Morning. Did you have a nice,” I almost said weekend before I realized a little more than one day had passed since I’d last seen her. Wow. “Sunday?”

“
Better than a sale on fairy sparkle. Got a furnished apartment and got my things unpacked. How about you?”

I weighed the negatives - the dead senator, staging a crime scene, my boyfriend setting me on fire, Morgan lying to me and Al flirting with Harley - against the positives - I was not in jail, Ash and
I were still together, sort of, and Al had slept with
me
last night. In my book that amounted to a good day and a half. “Pretty good.”

I helped Dé
sirée get settled and handed her a box of files I had not quite gotten around to putting away then I headed into my office.

I
’d planned to double check my office and the alley again for any possible evidence I might have missed, make a few notes on what I had said to the detective in case they came back, and then go over a few of the matches I’d originally planned to put on hold before the senator bit the dust.

That all went into the cauldron five minutes later.

“Uh, Kate?” Désirée stood in the door to my office. Her brown eyes nearly as wide as a cauldron’s lid. “Uh, there is someone . . .”

“
Is she in there?” I’m pretty sure the strident voice could be heard throughout the three buildings bordering mine. I know it hurt my ears and made my wand quiver.

She shoved Dé
sirée out of the doorway and stomped towards my desk. It was a damn good thing she was human. If she’d been a member of the HC, the fury in her eyes would’ve smoldered me in my seat.

I could take some heat from Ash, but I wasn
’t about to from anyone else.

I stood up. That
’s another lesson we witches have learned over the centuries. Never face an angry mob - or one very pissed off woman - sitting down.

Actually, I do believe that might just be a purely instinctual thing.

“You!” I had never seen this woman before in my life. She looked like she shopped the same stores as my Aunt Tabs. And sounded like a group of sirens arguing over one especially hunky werewolf. There’s a good reason you never argue with a siren. You give up just to shut
them
up.

“
How dare you!” If she upped her voice another octave my window was going to break. I was fairly certain both my eardrums had already ruptured.

I gripped my wand in my hand, just out of sight below my desk.

“Um, can I help you?” I wondered if she was in the right place. I have never ever - not once - had a client so enraged. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever had this woman as a client period.

She had blonde, discreetly frosted, Farrah Fawcett curls that fell to just above an impressive set of breasts. A tight kelly green button down shirt displayed thos
e breasts to the very best advantage possible. They heaved in perfect unison - a direct compliment to whatever surgeon she used.

Her legs were encased in white pants so tight I couldn
’t imagine how she wiggled them on. Five inch emerald fuck me heels completed the outfit.

I have to admit, I was impressed. I wouldn
’t have been able to totter across a room, much less stomp as elegantly as she was doing. Actually, I don’t think I could even remain upright in those heels.

She slung a matching leaf green purse o
n top of my desk. It slid several inches, the leather practically vibrating with the force of her rage and shoving a file onto the floor. The papers from the file flew out. One of them had Tom Crawford’s picture on it.

We both glanced down. My stomach turn
ed a few times. I confess, it had more to do with remembering all the blood than any twinge of pity.

The two-legged figure of wrath had a different reaction.

She shrieked.

I know I can be unreasonable when it comes to politics and politicians, but she was
taking it to an all new ear splitting level.

“
How dare you!” Clearly she felt that sentiment was worth repeating. Frankly, I was pretty sure I’d caught on the first time she’d shrieked those words.

“
Umm.” I had nothing. Not a thing. No clue. Not even a hint of who this siren-rivaling woman was or why she felt the need to scream at me.

“
What did you do? Bribe him? Promise him someone younger? Offer him some sort of kinky sex?” She looked around as if she expected to find handcuffs and whips hanging from my walls.