spies and spells 02 - betting off dead (2 page)

“No, no, no, no.” I slid up behind Auntie and yanked her arms down. I stuck mine up in the air and did a little gig around her. “Halleluiah!” I threw both my hands up in the air. “Praise the Lord on this beautiful, fine crisp fall morning.” I elbowed Auntie. “Right!”

Auntie threw me a cold, hard-pinched expression. Glances were exchanged between the two old women who were both gnawed with anxiety.

“What is wrong with your family?” Mrs. Hubbard lowered her eyes. She stumbled backward and used her hand to feel for the railing going up her stairs. She took one step backward and up. “Y’all have gone and lost your ever lovin’ minds. Both of you.” Mrs. Hubbard shook her finger at us climbing another step before she turned on the balls of her feet and scurried inside her house, slamming the door behind her.

“Maggie Park.” Her voice brimming with distaste after I spoiled the little spell she was about to unleash on Mrs. Hubbard, “You just ruined it. I need an eye of newt for the book club meeting and I almost had two eyes.” She grabbed me by my elbow and dragged me across the front yards. “I could’ve had four if I’d turned that little yapper into a newt too.”

“Oh, Auntie.” I sighed an exasperated sigh. “You’ve got to be more careful and let Mrs. Hubbard roll off your back.”

“That woman puts her nose into our business and I’m telling you as sure as I’m standing right here under the strawberry moon that she’s more dangerous to us in mortal form than she is in amphibian.” Auntie Meme clapped her hands.

“Squawk!” Miss Kitty flew down from my window on the third floor of our home and landed on Auntie’s arm.

“Maggie Park! What did I tell you about flinging the door open?” Mom hung over the second floor balcony, her long black hair was parted down the middle and fell over the railing.  The second floor porch was right off of Mom’s room and I was sure she’d seen everything that’d happened between Auntie and Mrs. Hubbard, but was taking her anger out on me.

My eyes drew up the
red three-story home with the double porches on the front left side of the house. There were two large windows on each level opposite the porches. Two dark grey pillars were built on the brick wall to the open porch leading up to the large wooden door with long skinny decorative windows on each side and the same door with the stained glass that held our heritage. One glass panel was a witch hat, another a black cat, and the third a full moon.

“Good morning, Park family.” Abram Callahan came skipping up the front walk with a big smile on his face. His messy blond hair was damp as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. His green eyes sparkled under the dawn sun. “Did y’all see the strawberry moon?”

I grabbed the edges of my robe and gripped it together.

“Abram, what are you doing out and about so early?” I asked knowing that I didn’t have an appointment, nor did I care about the strawberry moon. I gave Auntie the stink eye, knowing she was up to her old shenanigans of matchmaking.

Abram Callahan and I had been friends since we were kids. He grew up on Belgravia Court.

He was a local mechanic that was really great at electronics and circuits in specialty cars. I never understood why I couldn’t just swipe my hand toward my car and fix whatever needed to be fixed, knowing that my car was one of a kind.

Auntie Meme had Miss Kitty, Mom had Riule the cat and Lilith had Gilbert, the macaw.  Me, I had Vinnie, a 1965 red AC Cobra.

“Have you seen Boomer this morning?” he asked and twisted his head side-to-side.

“You mean this little fellow?” Auntie Meme bent down and picked up the grey tabby. She deposited him in Abram’s arms.

“There you are.” As Abram ran his hand down Boomer’s back, fur flew everywhere. “He’s been slipping out at night and I’m not sure why.”

“Does he feel okay?” I bent down and looked at Boomer. His eyes weren’t as vibrant as I’d seen them.

“He’s not eating as much as he used to.” Abram’s eyes slid up to mine. It was an unspoken look between us. A look that meant he wanted me to work a little magic.

Boomer looked at me and I smiled. His little mouth turned up but only I could see. He and I had a special bond. Boomer didn’t have nine lives; he’s had triple that. Belgravia Court was next to Central Park and St. James Street was a busy street in Old Louisville that ran alongside Belgravia Court.
Abram and I loved going down to Central Park to play and Boomer happened to follow us, only he played Frogger on St. James Street. Just like the game, a car squished him. He was dead.

I’ll never forget the look on Abram’s face when we heard the car that hit Boomer skid as the driver swerved the car to miss him, but it was too late and Boomer was lying on the ground. The driver and Abram were standing next to the car bawling their eyes out. I bent down and touched Boomer, springing him back to life.

Abram wasn’t stupid and he knew something weird had gone on. The whole witchy thing was supposed to be a big secret. Abram and I pinky-swore that we’d never talk about it again and we didn’t. So it was natural that when I turned sixteen and Mom had given me my familiar, a 1965 AC Cobra named Vinnie, Abram became my familiar’s sole mechanic.

Mom and Auntie loved Abram. He was loyal to the family. Never asked questions. And certainly didn’t question the odd equipment under Vinnie’s hood.

“You will come in for biscuits and gravy,” Mom appeared at the front door. She ran her hand over the stained glass, her gesture letting me know that she still wasn’t happy with me flinging the door open. If she only knew it had been for our family’s own good, she might’ve been a little more understanding.

“You know I will.” Abram put Boomer back on the ground and jetted up our front steps, following Auntie inside.

“What’s wrong?” I bent down and patted Boomer. He let out a few meows. Nothing a little touch couldn’t fix. “You are fine.”

He scurried down the courtyard after I ran my hand down him. He stopped in the middle and looked back at me before he ran off toward their house.

Belgravia Court was still asleep, except for Mrs. Hubbard. It was an odd place to live.

The houses were so close together, I couldn’t spit out my side bedroom window without hitting the neighbor’s house.

Belgravia Court was a close-knit community with everyone in everyone else’s business. Our little slice of heaven was peacefully tucked away from most of the noises of the city. All the Victorian homes were built back in the 1980’s and faced each other across a green courtyard that ran three blocks.  At night, gas lights provide the illumination taking one back into another time. It was what Mom was going for when she moved us here. The old, familiar feel of yesteryears.

Not just us. Given our heritage and all, we tried to keep a low profile. Thanks to Auntie and her on-going feud with Mrs. Hubbard, that was a hard thing to do.

“You sit right here.” Auntie patted the open seat next to Abram when I walked into the kitchen. I cocked a brow. Mom slid me a sideways glance; a slight smile curled the edges of her lips.

I eased down onto the chair and tucked the hem of the robe under my legs.

“Maggie, I hope you are hungry. You have a big morning.”
Mom’s eyes drew down on me; it was like looking in the mirror because we had the same almond-shaped black eyes and oval face. Our hair was the same, long and black and she could pass as my sister. The only difference was her high cheekbones, like Lilith’s, compared to my round ones that made me look younger than I really was.

My eyes narrowed wondering idly what Mom was talking about. My life was pretty much the same every day. Go to work at our family diner, The Brew, take orders, and deliver the food. I wasn’t much of a cook and although I tried, I could burn water. Auntie was the cook and I couldn’t say that she was so much of a great cook that kept our diner hopping as much as she’s a great witch with wonderful taste-bud spells. Lilith had worked there until she recently took over a local makeup company called Mystic Couture. She spent most of her days at the office working with Tessa, the owner, leaving me to do all the duties at The Brew, which was probably what Mom was talking about.

“This sure does look good.” Abram looked around the table and took his helping of biscuits, scooping spoons full of gravy and interrupting the odd silence between the Park women. He hovered over his plate and dug right on in with his fork.

Auntie and Mom disappeared from the room leaving me and Abram alone.

“Hey.” He leaned over. He wiggled his fingers in the air. “Can you do that oggly-boogly on Boomer again like you did when we were kids?”

A terrifying realization rushed over me. As much as I had hoped that Abram had forgotten what I’d done, he hadn’t.

“You pinky swore.” My mood veered sharply to anger. “You pinky swore,” I said again.

“Oh.” He shrugged and went back to stuffing his face with the gravy soaked biscuits. His mouth full, he said in a muffled voice, “Well, it didn’t hurt to ask. And you are super testy. Plus, I pinky swore before you told me all about your involvement with SKUL and Mick Jasper.”

My heart did a flip-flop before it skipped a beat and nearly stopped.

A few months ago I’d gotten into a little pickle with a little known division of Interpol called SKUL, Secret Keepers of the Universal Laws. You could say I was at the wrong place at the wrong time or sticking my witchy nose where it didn’t belong; either way, Auntie Meme had sent Abram my way when I’d gone to look for Mick Jasper, the spy for SKUL who I had started to inadvertently help after SKUL had decided I would make a good informant for them due to my everyday, all-American-girl look. Little did they know I was a witch. Regardless, I had confided in Abram about my role and how Mick Jasper played into it, keeping the truth about my involvement with Mick from my family.

“Listen,” I put my hand over his mouth. I whispered knowing Auntie and Mom were probably in the hall listening because I could guarantee this was not a chance meeting this early in the morning because I’d never seen Abram up at the break of dawn, “We have to talk about this later.”

“Later?” Mom walked in. “You two are meeting up later?” Her voice escalated as she drummed her fingertips together.

“Dinner sounds perfect.” Auntie Meme swept into the room. “And I’ll even let Maggie leave work early so she can get ready for your date.”

“Wait.” I jumped up. “We didn’t say anything about a date.”

“Date.” Abram shrugged and smiled. “That sounds about perfect.” He scooted his chair back and stood up. “I’ll see you tonight, little lady.”

“No, no, you won’t and I’m not little lady.” I followed on his heels down the hallway, my body rigid, my fists tensed.

“I’ll be here around three, early supper.” He turned at the door and looked at me. Satisfaction pursed his lips.

I slammed the door. A thunderbolt jagged through me.

“This is working out splendidly,” Mom’s voice trilled from the kitchen. “With that Mick out of the way, we will have you married off in no time.”

“Married off?” My footsteps thundered down the hall as I stalked back to the kitchen. “There will be no wedding to Abram Callahan.”

I had completely ignored the Mick comment.

“Maggie,” Mom drew near me and curled her arm around my shoulder. “Auntie and I were talking and we just don’t think you are cut from the same cloth as we are. We know.” She twirled her wrist around. “We know you had your Witchy Hour, but it proved to be a little off kilter since you haven’t really found your life’s journey.”

“Cut from the same cloth?” A laugh raked my insides.

Hearing the words Mick and Witchy Hour in the same sentence startled my insides. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t thought about Mick Jasper over the past couple of months, of course I did, but as the weeks had gone by and I’d yet to hear from him, so had my thoughts. I’d kept myself busy at The Brew, especially now since my sister Lilith was no longer working there. Auntie Meme had yet to hire anyone new in fear of them figuring out that no matter what kind of mood the customer was in when they walked through the door, they left the diner with a full belly and a happy soul, all due to Auntie’s special spelled ingredients she meticulously served in her food.

“Mick Jasper? Witchy Hour.” I shook my head.

Yes. I’d had my Witchy Hour while I was working undercover for SKUL, which by the way wasn’t by choice. Mick Jasper was a sneaky little handsome devil. He’d looked into our family diner and our lives when I’d refused to help him after I’d gotten myself entangled in his investigation. Of course there were no records of us. We were a family of witches.

My mom had moved us to Old Louisville. By day Lilith and I went to regular school and by night Mom and Auntie Meme held witch school for us. We’d blended in just like everyone else. Auntie Meme’s life’s journey was to cook and create, so it was natural for her to whip her wrist and turn an old building in downtown Louisville into a diner. Mom was more on the Mother Nature side of the life’s journey so she grew all the special ingredients Auntie Meme needed along with keeping our yard looking beautiful. Then there was Lilith. Her life’s journey had ended up being in the natural beauty field and using products that didn’t hurt the skin or the earth so her job at Mystic Couture was perfect.

Then there was me. I had my Witchy Hour as soon as I started my little adventure with SKUL. Mick Jasper hadn’t found any paid taxes or even the sale of the building to our family, so he held it over my head until I agreed to work with SKUL. I wasn’t sure if working for SKUL was my life’s journey so I’d kept it to myself and pretended that Mick was my boyfriend and that was why I was spending so much time with him.