Grace Under Fury Page 13

  “Princess Buttercup likes me,” Chief Fox said. “Why don’t I just dig it up real quick and we can lay Mrs. Paulson’s fears to rest? Is there a shovel around?”

  My pulse began to race.

  “The tea will get cold,” Aunt Thora said. “Can we at least leave the digging until afterward?”

  “In certain ancient cultures, they’d string you up by your toenails for refusing hospitality,” Grandma said.

  “Good thing we’re not part of an ancient culture then, isn’t it?” I said. I didn’t trust Grandma not to do something to Mrs. Paulson’s toenails in retaliation.

  “I should mention I have homemade oatmeal raisin cookies,” Aunt Thora added. That was news to me. I suspected there was a quick spell involved.

  “My favorite,” the chief said. He turned toward the house and I relaxed slightly.

  Mrs. Paulson remained rooted outside. “I’m not going back in there.” She looked at the chief. “You can’t trust them, Chief. They’re evil. You haven’t lived here long enough to know better.”

  Chief Fox chuckled. “Now, Mrs. Paulson, let’s not be rude. They’re offering us hospitality.”

  “Is this because you’re from Iowa?” Mrs. Paulson asked. “Because this is Maryland. We don’t have to be polite here.”

  “Clearly,” Grandma muttered.

  “I’m going inside for a cup of tea and a cookie,” Chief Fox said. “I suggest you join us.”

  Mrs. Paulson gave us a sharp look. “Fine, but keep that gun handy, Chief, in case you need to defend yourself.”

  His brow lifted. “You ladies own firearms?”

  “Not us,” Grandma said. “We’ve got a perfectly good guard dog.”

  Chief Fox grinned as he glanced at Princess Buttercup. “Fair enough.”

  We reentered the house and Aunt Thora immediately poured the tea. Although I had no idea which spell they planned to use, I had no doubt that the tea was laced with magic.

  “I think I hear Ryan waking up,” I said. “Let me check on him.”

  “I’ll help,” Grandma said. “He’s been fussy since he’s been sick.”

  Grandma and I hurried to the bedroom where Ryan was still fast asleep. I closed the door behind us.

  “Please don’t hurt them,” I whispered.

  “Relax, Jenny B. Goode,” she said. “We’re not foolish enough to hurt the chief of police. It’s only a memory spell. No black magic.”

  “What kind of memory spell?” I needed Chief Fox to remember the current investigation, not to mention that the selfish part of me wanted him to remember our lighthouse lip-lock.

  “It’s targeted,” Grandma said. “Only erases the last hour.”

  Phew. “Thank you,” I said. “Although if it weren’t for your zap-happy finger, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “Blame your mother. She started it.”

  “I will, once you bring her back to life.” I arched out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen where everyone sat at the table with their tea.

  “This is such an interesting flavor,” Chief Fox said. “What did you say is in it? I’ve already forgotten.”

  “Special recipe from my mother,” Aunt Thora said. “It’s been handed down for generations.”

  “All the best recipes are,” Mrs. Paulson said. “I have a rhubarb pie recipe from my grandmother that knows no equal.” She swallowed a mouthful of tea.

  “I’d love to try to make it,” Aunt Thora said.

  “Pffft. Fat chance. I don’t share that with anyone. You’d have to pry the recipe from my cold, dead hands.” She stopped. “Speaking of dead…” She stopped and wrinkled her nose. “Dead what?”

  “I think you were talking about your garden,” I said.

  Chief Fox’s expression turned blank. “Why did I come here then?”

  “Mrs. Paulson asked you to look at her cabbages and then we showed you the lemon trees,” I said.

  “Did we figure out what ate my cabbage leaves?” Mrs. Paulson asked.

  “Some kind of pest,” I said.

  “I have an organic preventative,” Aunt Thora said. “I can give you a mixture along with the ingredients so you can make it yourself. To be fair, it hasn’t worked for my lemon trees, but it might help your cabbages.”

  Mrs. Paulson nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.”

  Chief Fox scraped back his chair. “As enjoyable as this has been, I should probably get back home and take Achilles for a walk.”

  “I should go, too,” Mrs. Paulson said.

  Aunt Thora disappeared into the pantry and emerged with a jar and a note. “Here you are, Mrs. Paulson.”

  I walked the two of them to the door to say our goodbyes. Unsurprisingly, Chief Fox lingered on the front porch after Mrs. Paulson had gone.

  “I haven’t gotten the final report for Magic Beans yet,” he said. “We closed down the cafe, too. The inspection was done this morning. I’ll let you know when I find out more.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How are you feeling?” Chief Fox asked. “You look a little better.”

  “Still congested, but still alive.” I winced. Under any other circumstances, it would’ve been an acceptable statement. Right now, it seemed like I was gloating.

  “No new symptoms?” the chief asked. “The hospital has reported more digestive cases coming in.”

  “You don’t need to worry about me,” I said. “I have a strong constitution. I can eat Chinese food for days with no repercussions.” Ugh. Gross. Why did I share that?

  His brow creased. “Good to know.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of Mrs. Paulson’s house. “I’m sorry about that whole thing. I think she might be lonely and looking for reasons to interact.”

  “I wish she was willing to spend time at the senior center,” I said. “She’s not interested in that kind of socializing, though.”

  “That was nice of you to use your FBI skills to fix her computer,” the chief said.

  “Yep, that was all me and my tech skills,” I lied.

  He grinned. “Your hair looks good wet. You must’ve just finished your shower when we got here, huh?”

  “Save your dirty thoughts for the drive home.” I gave him a gentle shove off the front porch and he laughed.

  “I’ll text you later with an update.”

  “On the investigation, not your dirty thoughts.” I kept my smile in place until he returned his car. Slowly, I closed the door and leaned against it, my heart pounding.

  “Now can we please resurrect my mother?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chophouse is one of the best restaurants in Chipping Cheddar, so I considered it a perk to take Paul Pidcock’s place on the supernatural council, knowing I’d get to eat here once a month. Not that I needed an excuse. My cousin Rafael owns the highly regarded restaurant and also serves as its chef.

  I threaded my way through the chic decor until I reached the small room at the back of the restaurant that was normally reserved for private parties. Aggie Grace was already seated at the round table, along with Adele LeRoux, Corinne’s grandmother, Husbourne, and Hugh Phelps.

  “Now that we’re all here, let’s get straight to New Business,” Adele said.

  Aggie raised a bony finger. “Could we order appetizers first? My mouth has been watering for the roasted brussels sprouts all day. Nobody makes them like Rafael.”

  The door burst open and my cousin stood framed in the doorway. “Did someone summon the kitchen wizard?”

  “Good evening, Rafael,” Aggie said. “Our usual drinks and the sprouts, please.”

  “What’s on the sprouts?” Hugh asked. “I’m pretty particular when it comes to vegetables.”

  “As am I,” Rafael replied.

  “They’re topped with cheese,” Husbourne said. “Lip-smacking delicious.”

  Rafael tensed. “The sprouts are not topped with cheese, as you so inelegantly put it, white wizard.”

  “This is all very confusing,” Hugh said. “Ca
n we get back to solving society’s problems after we’ve ordered the cheese sprouts? I’m ravenous.”

  Rafael bristled. “My sprouts are exquisitely prepared. They are not diner fries.”

  “Don’t be quick to knock those,” Hugh said. “Gouda Nuff serves excellent cheese fries.”

  Rafael pulled a face. “Please do not compare my masterpiece with what passes for food there. One does not simply chuck these sprouts into an oven and roast them. First, they are finely trimmed and dusted with a mixture of parmesan, olive oil, garlic, as well as my own secret seasoning.”

  “No one doubts your culinary genius,” Adele said. “Hugh’s a finicky eater, that’s all.”

  “I thought werewolves ate everything,” I said.

  “Not their greens, apparently,” Aggie said wryly.

  Rafael gave a slight bow and exited the room.

  “Now, can we please begin?” Adele asked. “This outbreak is a huge concern for everybody, especially with Cheese-chella coming up. The mayor’s worried she might have to cancel.”

  “You can’t cancel the cheese festival,” Aggie said. “It’s one of the highlights of the year.” The Grace sister looked at me, her wrinkled lips compressing. “What can you tell us, Eden?”

  “I know it’s supernatural in nature,” I said. “Beyond that, I don’t know at this point. It also seems to be affecting humans disproportionately. Their symptoms are more severe. We’re getting by with cold symptoms. Humans are getting hit with flu symptoms and digestive problems.”

  “And death,” Aggie added. “Don’t forget Ray Langdon.”

  “I haven’t,” I said. “I’m worried about the nursing home right now. There’s one case I’m aware of, but hopefully, it’s contained.”

  Hugh snarled. “We need to get this under control and fast. I’m trying to plan my wedding, but both the caterer and the justice of the peace have fallen ill. I can’t afford any more setbacks.”

  Adele looked at him askance. “Your wedding? Since when?”

  “Since the arrival of my intended,” Hugh said. “That supernatural fog delayed the shipment of my bride and I’m not about to let another occurrence set us back even further.”

  Aggie coughed. “I’m sorry. Did you say shipment?”

  Hugh stiffened. “Yes. She’s a mail-order bride.”

  Everyone exchanged curious looks—except me, because I already knew all about her.

  “I didn’t realize this sort of thing was back in fashion,” Adele said.

  “I don’t know that it’s in fashion as much as it’s a necessity,” Hugh replied.

  I suppressed a laugh.

  “You consider a mail-order bride a necessity?” Aggie asked.

  “The survival of the pack is paramount,” Hugh said. “I need to start producing pups or my future alpha status will be called into question.”

  “Heavens, no. Not your manhood.” Aggie drew back, hand on heart.

  Hugh didn’t seem to grasp her sarcasm. “Exactly. The sooner I can start a family of my own, the better off I’ll be.”

  “I’m sorry about your delayed wedding,” I said. “Hopefully, everything will get back to normal soon.” What was I saying? Nothing ever seemed normal in Chipping Cheddar—and yet normal was all I ever wanted.

  Rafael entered the room with our round of Fairy Dust and the fancy sprouts. I swirled the glass of golden liquid. I couldn’t smell the sweet aroma thanks to my congestion. Hopefully, my taste buds were still in working order because this drink was the closest I’d ever get to nectar.

  “So you’re telling me we have no idea whether this supernatural outbreak is due to a demon or something else entirely,” Aggie said.

  “What about that new fella on our street?” Husbourne asked. “Didn’t his move into Dudley’s house coincide with the first few cases?”

  “Michael Bannon is unpleasant, but he’s not a harbinger of disease,” I said. “I checked him out. He’s human.”

  “He wouldn’t be the first human to dabble in magic he doesn’t understand,” Husbourne said.

  “When I say I checked him out, I might have entered his house and looked around. He’s clean.”

  Hugh gave me an admiring glance. “I like your style, Fury.”

  “Just be sure to keep her style from Mayor Whitehead’s ears,” Adele said. “As far as she knows, Eden isn’t a field agent.”

  Excitement bubbled to the surface at the mention of the mayor. “Tell me more about Mayor Whitehead,” I said. “Is she really as cool as she seems?”

  “I fully admit I was skeptical at first,” Husbourne admitted, “but she won me over. She’s smart and capable and she cares about everybody, from the janitor at the senior center to the director of the hospital. What she doesn’t know, she’s willing to learn.”

  “How did we ever elect someone like that?” I asked, somewhat amazed.

  “I think we got lucky,” Husbourne said. “She ran against Lawrence Beech. His wife caught him cheating during the election and she made it her personal crusade to see that her husband lost the election. His wife basically handed Mayor Whitehead the race on a silver platter.”

  I wrinkled my nose at the thought of Lawrence Beech as mayor of Chipping Cheddar. He’d been the girls’ soccer coach when I was in high school and I still remember the way he leered at everyone in their skimpy uniforms. “Are they divorced now?”

  “Sure are,” Husbourne said. “Janine took her half of their small fortune and relocated to Palm Beach, where she met a wonderful gentleman at the country club and they got married last year.”

  “You really do keep tabs on everyone, don’t you?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I consider it my sworn duty.”

  Hugh pushed the plate of brussels sprouts toward me. “You haven’t tried one yet.”

  I speared one with my fork and popped it into my mouth. Yep, my taste buds were fully functional. “I don’t even like sprouts and these are divine.”

  “I hope for Rafael’s sake that Chophouse isn’t next on the mayor’s list to close,” Aggie said. “I heard the cafe at the marina is closed now.”

  “And Corinne’s new place,” Husbourne added.

  I shot Adele a guilty look. Even though it wasn’t my fault, I felt responsible for the closure of Magic Beans.

  Adele folded her hands on the table. “She’s worked very hard. It’s a shame her business has gotten tangled up in this mess.”

  Husbourne gave her arm a reassuring pat. “She’ll be up and running again soon. My friend Byron considers himself quite the espresso aficionado and he thinks Magic Beans’ beans are out of this world.”

  “Thank you kindly,” Adele said. “I’ll be sure to pass that along. It’ll cheer her up a bit.”

  I swallowed another sprout, nearly choking in the process. “What did you say, Husbourne?”

  “Come now, Eden,” Adele said. “Corinne told me you’ve been in there a few times because you were so impressed.”

  I waved my hand. “No, no, not that. About the beans.”

  Husbourne frowned. “You mean that Byron thinks they’re out of this world?”

  “Yes, that’s it.” I shot to my feet. “Adele, could you please call Corinne and ask her to meet me at the coffee shop?”

  “But we haven’t finished the meeting yet,” Aggie said.

  “Send me a copy of the minutes,” I said. “Right now, I’ve got an inspection to do.”

  I stared at the shipment on the floor of the Magic Beans stockroom. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.”

  “The inspector took bean samples,” Corinne said. “He didn’t find anything wrong with them.”

  “He wouldn’t,” I said. “These coffee beans are from Otherworld.”

  Corinne jerked. “What? What makes you say that?”

  I pointed to the winged monkey logo on the sack. “Those are Potis beans, Sally’s favorite brand. She complains that she can’t get anything close to it in the human world.” Sally complained so often
that it was a minor marvel I managed to remember this one.

  Corinne bent over to examine the jute sack of coffee beans. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive,” I said. “So much for your claims of being a law-abiding citizen.” Supernaturals knew that it was illegal to important products like coffee beans from Otherworld. I was actually disappointed. I wanted to believe Corinne was above that sort of thing.

  Corinne hugged herself. “I didn’t know, Eden.”

  “How could you not know where your coffee beans were coming from? You’re the sole owner.”

  “I used a distributor,” Corinne said. “Someone my mom knows.”

  Ah. That explained it. Of the three LeRoux witches, Rosalie was the one you had to watch out for. Although she wasn’t at my family’s level, her hands weren’t exactly clean.

  “Do you think the beans are making people sick?” Corinne asked. She opened a sack and scooped a handful of beans to study them.

  “I doubt it,” I said. “We’d have a lot more cases, and they’d be more digestive in nature. We’re dealing with a mixed bag of symptoms.”

  “If it’s not the beans, then what is it?” Corinne asked.

  Aunt Thora’s beloved lemon trees sprang to mind, and Mrs. Paulson’s cabbages. “It’s a pest.”

  Corinne cut a glance at me. “Like a rat?”

  “More like a supernatural insect that hitched a ride here in one of these bags,” I replied. “It’s small enough to bite supernaturals without being seen.”

  “And it’s invisible to humans anyway,” Corinne said, understanding. “How did I not get bitten?”

  “Why do mosquitos only bite certain people in a group?” I said. “Insects are drawn to certain food sources for a variety of reasons. They love my brother Anton’s blood because he loves beer.”

  Corinne shifted her attention back to the shipment. “So one bug has managed to infect all these residents?”

  “The bug has infected some people and then we’ve spread the rest ourselves with whatever germs the insect injected us with. That explains the different symptoms, too.”

  “As well as the severity,” Corinne said. “I bet Ray Langdon was bitten.” Her brow creased. “Oh, Goddess. I bet he was bitten here in my shop.” She covered her mouth.