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Spell Disaster (Silver Hollow Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series Book 2) Page 8
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“I know, right?” Ember pulled up outside Enchanted Pets and nodded at Raine, who was snoozing in the backseat, her head tilted back and mouth wide open. “I’ll take Raine back to her house and get her into bed then call a cab to pick me up.”
“Don’t be silly.” Issy unclipped Bella’s leash from the seat belt harness then straightened with her tiny dog in her arms. “You head to the cabin, and I’ll follow behind you in Brown Betty.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.” Issy smiled. “We Quinns have to stick together, right?”
13
Dex had seen his share of small-town police buildings, and the one in Silver Hollow actually wasn’t too shabby despite the small size of the town. Sure, it wasn’t abundant in space—none of them were—but it had a decent-sized lobby and a few cells. The evidence room could have used some work or maybe a lock on the door, but that wasn’t Dex’s problem. He supposed the lax attitude toward security worked here. After all, how many real crimes could this small town have?
Then again, there had been two murders just this summer.
One thing he wished—especially if there were going to be more murders here—was that they would enlarge the sheriff’s office. It was tiny, and now—just as in the previous murder case—Dex found himself stuffed in there with three other people, raising the temperature to balmy and making the air thick.
Owen didn’t have much furniture, just a plain metal desk with a 1950s green Pleather chair behind it and a hard plastic guest chair that no one, including Dex, wanted to sit in. Right now, Owen was standing behind the desk, and the medical examiner, Ursula Lavoie, stood across from it. DeeDee Clawson was leaning against one wall, and Dex leaned against the wall opposite her. Dex’s official involvement in the case had been sanctioned by the FBI, and Owen had called the meeting to bring everyone up to date on the clues and ME findings.
Dex studied the others as Owen rattled off the specifics of the case and Ursula talked medical speak. The sheriff looked more as though he belonged on a surfboard, though Dex could see his face was set in grim determination. In the murder case earlier this summer, Dex hadn’t been too sure about Sheriff Gleason, but now he realized that even though the guy wasn’t super savvy about police work, he certainly had the desire. And he seemed like a fair man carefully considering all the clues and not wanting to jump to conclusions and throw the book at everyone, as Stan would have done. Now that Dex was thinking about it, he’d much rather work with Owen than Stan.
Dex had met Detective Clawson—DeeDee, as the locals called her—during that earlier case too. But now she looked different. He wasn’t sure what it was—surer of herself and… well… more attractive. Maybe they’d gotten new deputy outfits or she’d had her hair cut. It didn’t really matter. What did matter was that Dex liked her. He got the distinct impression she was “on his side,” though he had no idea why. As far as he knew, there weren’t any sides for anyone to be on.
The other woman was even stranger than Gleason and Clawson. She looked as though she spent a lot of time in the morgue. Her hair, a stark jet black, was pulled back tight in a bun at her neck. Her skin was as pale as ivory soap, and her eyes were as dark as her hair. But the kicker was her ruby-red lips—a splash of bright color in her otherwise pale demeanor. Dex supposed she was pretty but not in the same way that Issy was.
Thoughts of Issy made his chest constrict. He was looking forward to their date that night.
Date?
The word signified the beginning of a relationship. Dex didn’t want to admit how much he hoped that was what it was. He didn’t like the funny feeling of being out of control that surfaced when he was around her. Yet he couldn’t stay away from her. And if there was a dangerous killer in town, he wanted to make sure Issy was in no danger. But that was only one of the reasons he was eager to help on the case. The other was that he wanted the chance to put his detective skills to use. Hanging around town and looking for nonexistent paranormals was pretty boring.
Stan had called him again the night before, wanting to know if he’d witnessed any paranormal activity. He’d been excited about the various power outages around town. Dex had been overcome with a strange feeling of protectiveness for the people of Silver Hollow and had told Stan the power outages had been traced to a faulty transformer. It was the first time he’d ever lied on the job, but he felt justified in it because Stan’s witch hunt for paranormals was all going to come to nothing anyway.
Though, now that he thought hard about it, some strange things had been happening. Dex doubted there were witches, werewolves, and vampires floating around town. Even so, he wasn’t one to just rake in a paycheck for nothing. He didn’t want to waste the FBI’s money, so he might as well work the real murder case while he was here.
“…. no other tattoos or marks, isn’t that correct, Ursula?” Owen’s words pulled Dex from his thoughts, and he focused his attention on the crime scene pictures scattered across Owen’s desk.
“Nothing. No bruises, and toxicology reports came back clean,” Ursula said.
“The victim doesn’t seem to have any enemies. I can’t find the tattoo parlor that gave her that strange tattoo, but I think that’s a dead end anyway,” Owen said.
“According to everyone who knew her, Violet was a loner. Kind of shy. Liked to read and didn’t party or run with a bad crowd. There doesn’t seem to be anyone who would want her dead,” DeeDee said.
“Which supports my theory of a serial killer. The voodoo doll is what gets me. It’s creepy, and the ties to black magic have me on edge. But the fact that it was left there means the killer is dangerous.” Owen glanced at Dex as if seeking confirmation for his theory.
“Sure does. Do you know anyone in town that might be that dangerous?” Dex asked.
Owen shook his head. “No one in town. The people here are good.”
Ursula and DeeDee nodded their agreement.
Dex liked the idea that it might be someone from out of town, but it seemed too convenient. It wasn’t an assumption he was ready to make just yet. They’d barely started looking into all the clues.
“I think looking into Violet’s background is a dead end. We have to focus on the physical evidence,” Owen said.
“Like this charm.” Dex pointed to one of the photographs, a grainy image of a gold charm with some kind of stone in it. “Did you say you found that in the wound?”
“Yes,” Ursula said. “Has to have been from someone that was there during the murder.”
“Most likely the killer,” Owen said. “Problem is, we haven’t been able to find out where the charm was purchased. When we do, we can get a customer list. I have my best guys on it.”
“Hopefully it wasn’t bought online,” DeeDee said.
Owen snapped his fingers. “Good point. I’ll have Sanders do an Internet search.” He looked up at Dex. “Don’t you guys have some fancy image-recognition software we could use for that? You know, that searches the Internet for a match? Maybe you could get us a copy of that.”
“I could try.” Dex turned to Ursula. “What about physical description? Could you tell from the wound how tall the killer is?”
“Somewhere between five foot four and five foot five. And rather strong. The cleaver was buried deep.”
“That’s pretty short. Are you sure?” Dex asked.
Ursula nodded.
“Probably someone with one of those inferiority complexes that bulks up their muscles to make up for their height,” Owen suggested.
“Okay, so we’re waiting to find out more about the charm, what about the murder weapon?” Dex asked.
“No prints. Came from the kitchen at the restaurant.”
Dex’s brows shot up. “So someone in the kitchen maybe? A coworker dispute?”
“Nope.” DeeDee shook her head. “Interviewed everyone, and no disputes. Fact is, the cleaver was one of the extras kept in the back of the kitchen near the doorway that leads to the back hall where the bathrooms are. Th
e kitchen gets pretty busy, and anyone passing back to the bathrooms could have easily grabbed it unseen.”
“We’re getting a list of folks who were in the restaurant at that time,” Owen said before Dex could even suggest it. “That will help, but seems to me we have one clever and dangerous killer on our hands. He probably didn’t leave a trail. Maybe he paid cash, or maybe he snuck in the back, but the fact that he left that voodoo doll means he had this all planned out. He’s been thinking about this for a long time, and I fear it’s only a matter of time before he kills again.”
14
That night, Issy checked her makeup in the rearview mirror one more time before climbing out of Brown Betty to stand on the sidewalk in front of Les Etoiles. After they’d delivered Raine safely home and tucked her in bed, Ember had insisted on taking Issy to get a juice snack, and well, she’d spilled the beans about her date.
If she’d eaten any of Ember’s chocolates, she’d have been mighty suspicious that her cousin had slipped a loose-tongue spell into them, but she hadn’t taken a bite. She had no idea what had made her tell Ember she had a date—maybe just because it was better than rehashing what had happened at Enid’s over and over again. It certainly wasn’t the growing feeling of excitement and swarm of butterflies in her stomach that had made her want to share. She wasn’t that excited about having dinner with Dex, and she was determined it wouldn’t lead to anything.
Ember, on the other hand, was thrilled and had insisted on helping Issy put on some blush and mascara and a gloss on her lips that was almost gone now from all her nervous biting. She never usually wore makeup at all, but Ember said it would help to enhance her already pretty features. Why in the world she’d let Ember talk her into that, she had no idea. The last thing she wanted was to look attractive to Dex Nolan.
Through the softly glowing light of the front windows, Issy peeked inside and spotted Dex already seated at a small table for two near the back of the bistro. He looked handsome in his black sport coat and burgundy tie. There was something about a man in a suit that got her every time, and her resistance to getting involved with him started to melt like a snowman on a warm spring day.
He’d wanted to pick her up, but Issy had insisted on driving herself. She’d figured it was better to have an escape plan in case things went a little wonky, which they always seemed to do whenever she and Dex were together. Now she was glad. Somehow, she knew that the last thing she needed was for Dex to drive her home after dinner.
Issy closed her eyes and took a deep breath for courage.
This was dinner. Nothing more.
Dinner with the most gorgeous guy she knew, in the most romantic restaurant she’d ever seen, while she did her best to forget the scorching-hot kiss she and said guy had shared.
Why did thoughts of that kiss keep surfacing? She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think Dex was handsome. Dex was a human, and there was no way he would understand her magic. As soon as she got close to him, something would happen that would expose her paranormal abilities, and he’d run away in horror. Or worse, arrest her and take her in to be experimented upon in Area 59.
She smoothed her hand down her lavender-colored skirt. The outfit always garnered her a lot of compliments on the rare occasions she wore it. But she hadn’t worn it to impress Dex, had she? Maybe she should have worn something less attractive, like a burlap sack, because the way her heart was fluttering, she knew she would have little resistance to Dex Nolan’s charms, and if he found her attractive…
But she’d hesitated too long. The maître-d appeared, and before she knew it, she was being escorted over to the table, and she found her mind a whirl of insecure thoughts. What if Dex didn’t like purple? What if her strawberry-blond curls clashed with the color? What if—
“Here we are.” The maître-d pulled out a chair for Issy.
Dex stood, his hazel eyes warm and his expression stunned, and all her doubts evaporated.
“Hi.” He gave her a slow head-to-toe appraisal. “You look… Wow!”
Heat and gratitude prickled up from beneath the scoop neck of her matching lavender twinset. “Thanks.”
Issy took her seat then carefully laid her napkin on her lap, looking anywhere but at him, unsure of the strange feelings surging up inside her. She tried to present a calm front. “You clean up pretty good yourself.”
“Thanks.” He smiled, the crooked one that made her knees wobble. “I don’t get to dress up very often in my job.”
“Me neither.”
A waiter filled their water glasses then took their wine order—white for Issy, red for Dex—before telling them about the specials for the day. Once he’d left, Dex set his menu aside and sat forward, his knees brushing against Issy’s beneath the small table.
“I’m so glad you said yes,” he said, his tone full of appreciation.
“I’m glad you asked,” she replied, surprised to find she meant it. Even though her logical mind was listing off all the reasons why she should run out of the restaurant, the rest of her was firmly planted in the seat and didn’t want to leave. All of Issy’s earlier nerves had settled, and she could finally take a look around the place and appreciate the décor.
Vintage crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and rich swaths of damask decorated the walls. Candles graced each table along with centerpieces of freshly cut flowers in tasteful shades of white and cream. The whole atmosphere gave a feeling of serenity and security and peace.
Issy smiled across the table at Dex. “I’ve wanted to come here for ages.”
“Pretty nice, isn’t it?” He looked around then back at her. “Definitely not my usual kind of place.”
“Where do you usually eat?”
“Besides fast food places?” He laughed. “O’Hara’s makes a fantastic burger. And, of course, Divine Cravings for dessert.”
Issy’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Divine Cravings. Had Ember put a charm on one of Dex’s desserts? No, she wouldn’t do that. It was against witch protocol to charm something without at least one of the parties knowing about it, and Ember had sworn she wouldn’t do any such thing.
Issy sat back while the sommelier poured their wine. Luigi had completely wiped Dex’s memory of all paranormal-related activity surrounding Christian Vonner’s arrest, but she couldn’t resist checking for herself to make sure. “Good thing they put that Vonner kid behind bars, huh? After all the weird stuff that happened.”
Dex looked at her a moment, blinked, then frowned. “Don’t remember anything weird. Pretty open-and-shut case of homicide.”
“Yeah.” Issy sipped her wine, feeling a rush of relief and regret. Relief because Dex wouldn’t haul her off to Area 59 for paranormal experiments by the FBPI. Regret because if he had remembered and still asked her out, that meant he’d accepted who she was and what she was and wanted to be with her regardless. Deep inside, Issy knew they could never truly have a relationship together without complete honesty.
Still, even though he had no memory of it, he had seen her perform magic that day in the woods, and he’d let her go. He’d even saved her from being taken in by his partner, Stan, and the FBPI. So maybe there was some hope for them yet.
The waiter returned, and they placed their orders. Filet mignon for him, and roasted salmon for her. He got a salad, and she got soup. The waiter dropped off a basket of freshly baked bread that smelled delicious then left once more.
The alcohol fizzed through Issy’s empty stomach. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up like Nikki Pettywood after a day in O’Hara’s. She set her glass of wine aside and searched for something to fill the silence and took a roll from the basket. “Back in Silver Hollow, huh?”
“Yep.” Dex took a roll too and slathered it with fresh butter. “Seems I’m just in time too. With the new murder and all.”
“Oh?” she asked, swallowing hard to avoid choking on her mouthful of bread. “Are you working on that case? I didn’t realize the FBI was involved.”
“Monitoring it for now, in case local law enforcement asks me to step in and help.” He devoured half his food in one bite then shrugged. “I heard you were nearby again this time too. Talk about coincidence.”
“Yeah.” Issy forced a laugh. “Coincidence.”
The waiter brought their first course, and her French onion soup smelled divine, all caramelized onions and melted cheese. She did her best not to dive in headfirst and instead took dainty bites. Dex dug into his salad with gusto, having another roll on the side.
“How’s Gordon?” she asked.
“Great.” Dex grinned. “Man, I never thought I’d get attached to him so quick, but he’s like my best bud. Rides around on my shoulder, waving at everyone. Such a good little guy.”
Issy grinned. She’d always known Gordon was special. “You had some questions about his food?”
“Oh yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”
They spent the next ten minutes or so discussing the care and feeding of bearded dragons in great detail while they each finished their first course. In fact, Issy was so deep in conversation, she barely noticed when the waiter cleared away their empty plates. “Is he head-bobbing with you?”
“Not that I’ve noticed,” Dex said. “Why?”
“They do that sometimes to show dominance… or for courting.”
Dex’s brows shot up.
Issy laughed. “If he’s not displaying that type of behavior, then I’d say you’re safe from unwanted advances and he’s pretty content.”
“Good.” Dex leaned forward and put his forearms on the table. “I want him to be happy.”
The more time Issy spent around Dex, the more she liked him. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and given that he’d witnessed her performing magic before and let her go, maybe he really wouldn’t cut and run when he found out who she really was. Then again, there was the matter of his job with the FBPI. Why would he work there if he were tolerant of paranormals? Clearly, he had no memory of her abilities, or he would have already taken her in… or would he?