Charmed Offensive Page 3

  “It’s not that far to walk,” Sheriff Astrid said. Her gaze shifted to my round belly. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re not yourself.”

  “I am myself,” I insisted. “I don’t mind walking. It’s just that I keep tripping because my equilibrium’s off and my feet keep swelling up by the end of the day. I look like a hobbit at bedtime.”

  “What’s a hobbit?” Sheriff Astrid asked.

  “Ooh, I think you two would enjoy Lord of the Rings,” I said. “I’ll have to introduce you to the movies one of these days.” If life ever calmed down long enough to enjoy a two-hour film.

  “You make sure Mr. Geary is comfortable,” Astrid told her sister.

  Deputy Britta knocked on the statue’s hard head. “I’m not sure that’s really possible.”

  “Well, make sure he’s in a safe place where no one can crack his head open,” the sheriff said.

  Britta gave her a thumbs up.

  I drove Astrid back to my office and made a point of calling loudly when we entered. I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as though there would be evidence for her to hide. The alleged weapon of choice was attached to her head.

  “Why are you yelling like a banshee? I’m trying to study and it’s not going well,” Althea said, swishing into my office. She stopped. “Oh, hey Sheriff Astrid.”

  “There’s been an incident,” I said.

  Sheriff Astrid shot me a silencing look.

  “What kind of incident?” Althea asked. She eyed me closely. “Did something happen to you? How many butts do I need to kick?”

  “No butts,” I said quickly. “And the only kicking will be courtesy of this baby.” I patted my stomach.

  “Althea, why don’t you tell me about your recent experience with Albert Geary?” the sheriff asked. Ugh, straight to business.

  Althea made a disgruntled noise. “Emma told you about how awful he was, huh? I’m not sure why she bothered. It’s not like you can arrest him for it. Not to worry, Sheriff. I set him straight. I won’t be surprised if he experiences a complete metamorphosis as a result of my interaction with him.”

  Sheriff Astrid’s brow lifted. “Is that so?”

  I took a step backward out of the sheriff’s line of sight and waved my arms wildly.

  Althea frowned. “Are you having another spasm, Emma? I told you to take a warm bath at night. They’re only going to get worse until the baby’s born.”

  I dropped my arms to my sides in defeat.

  “You know me, Sheriff,” Althea continued. “If someone is disrespectful, I don’t let that slide. I’m old school.”

  “Old school?” the sheriff queried.

  “You know it,” Althea said, and I cringed as the snakes hissed their support.

  Sheriff Astrid cleared her throat. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come to the station with me.”

  Althea perked up. “Did Geary get arrested again? Do you need me to make a statement?”

  “No, I’m arresting you for the stoning of Albert Geary.”

  “Stoning?” Althea repeated. “Someone threw stones at the elf?”

  “No, someone turned him to stone,” Sheriff Astrid said.

  Understanding rippled across Althea’s features. “Great Goddess.” She pressed her palms against her cheeks. “I sure didn’t help myself here, did I?”

  “How can you arrest her?” I asked. “You don’t have any evidence.”

  “She’s all but confessed,” Astrid said.

  “I understand bringing her in for questioning,” I said, “but you don’t need to arrest her.”

  “Unfortunately, I do,” Astrid said. “Under the circumstances, I have to consider her a dangerous threat to society. My duty to serve and protect the residents of this town trumps my personal relationships.”

  Althea’s snakes hissed in response. “I can’t be arrested,” the Gorgon said. “I have a test coming up.”

  “You’ll have plenty of time to study in a holding cell,” Sheriff Astrid said.

  “Don’t worry, Althea,” I said. “I’ll figure this out.”

  “Don’t you get involved,” Althea warned. “You’ve got a baby to think about.”

  “I have a friend to think about,” I shot back. I couldn’t let her take the fall for whatever happened to Albert Geary. Yes, she was the sassiest Gorgon that ever lived, but I’d never seen her do anything to suggest she’d use her power against someone.

  Sheriff Astrid held up a pair of handcuffs. “I don’t need these, do I?”

  “Of course not, honey,” Althea said. “We’re old friends, despite your current error in judgment.”

  I closed my eyes and groaned. “This can’t be happening.”

  “It’ll be okay, Emma,” Althea said. “Don’t you stress yourself out on my account. I’d never forgive myself if you went into early labor because of me.”

  “Or me.” Sheriff Astrid looked at me. “So please don’t do that.”

  “I can’t help it,” I said. “I have no control over my uterus.”

  Althea scooted behind the sheriff. “Look, I’m going willingly. Nothing to worry about. It’ll be a nice vacation for me. Nothing to do except study.”

  “Althea, I’m not going to let you rot in prison for a crime you didn’t commit.”

  Sheriff Astrid opened the door. “We’ll talk later.”

  I watched helplessly as Althea was escorted from the office.

  “Darn right we will,” I called after her. “When I tell you what really happened to Albert Geary!”

  I didn’t want to waste any time. Before my feet got too swollen to carry on, I decided to pay a visit to Althea’s older sister, Miranda. She was a little more laidback than their other sister, Amanda, and I figured she’d be eager to help. As the only Gorgons in town, they were a tight trio.

  While Althea chose a career as a legal assistant (and now future lawyer), Miranda and Amanda had chosen creative paths. Miranda worked as a photographer and favored more fashionable headscarves than Althea’s plain ones.

  I managed to find her at a photo shoot at Curse Cliff of all places. The rocky terrain that overlooked Swan Lake was the place where Raisa had cursed Spellbound when she’d spotted law enforcement—my biological mother—near the town border. The spot had been considered sacred until the curse was broken. Apparently, it was now a popular place for photographs.

  A bride and groom stood on the cliff’s edge while Miranda clicked away on her camera.

  “Tilt your head up,” the Gorgon said. “Look at him like he’s the one who broke the curse and all your dreams are about to come true.”

  The bride beamed at her future husband and my spirits lifted. It was a wonderful thing to witness. She caught sight of me out of the corner of her eye and jerked her head as the camera clicked.

  “Emma Hart?” the bride screeched.

  “Well, that shot’s ruined.” Miranda turned to look at me. “Seems to me you’d want to avoid this spot like the plague.”

  The bride rushed forward. “Do you come here to relive the moment when you freed us all?” She sighed. “Such an amazing day. My fiancé and I are having a cake just like the one you had.”

  “At which venue?” I asked with a laugh. Daniel and I had celebrated our wedding all over town in an effort to include everyone.

  Bethenny clapped happily. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant.” She craned her neck. “Gary, can you believe it?”

  “I don’t see why it’s hard to believe,” Gary said.

  “Daniel is so handsome,” Bethenny said with a dreamy sigh. “I’d be incredibly jealous if it weren’t for Gary.”

  “Bethenny, can you get back to your spot?” Miranda asked. “We don’t want to lose the angle of the light. It’s perfect right now.”

  Bethenny hustled back to her place beside her husband. “This is so exciting,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her smile.

  Miranda kept her focus on the couple and snapped away. “You’ll have to w
ait your turn, Emma. Curse Cliff belongs to everyone now.”

  “I’m not here for the cliff,” I said. “I’m here for you.”

  Miranda stopped clicking and peeked at me from behind the camera. “Me? Why?”

  “It’s about Althea,” I said. “I can wait until you’re finished, though. I don’t want you to lose the good light.”

  Miranda returned her focus to the couple. “We can talk while I work.”

  “Yes, please do,” Bethenny said.

  “No moving unless I say so,” Miranda snapped.

  Bethenny stiffened in response. “Yes, ma’am,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Her fiancé remained perfectly still, awaiting his next instruction.

  “Put your arm around her waist, Gary,” Miranda called.

  I cocked my head, observing the change. “Are you sure about that?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Miranda asked.

  “He looks a little awkward,” I said. “Like he doesn’t want to get too close to her.”

  “I agree,” Bethenny said.

  Miranda’s face flashed with annoyance. “Sometimes poses look weird in person but better on film.”

  “This pose just looks weird, period,” I said.

  “Do I tell you how to practice law, Emma?” Miranda asked.

  “No, because you don’t have a law degree, or legal experience for that matter.”

  “And do you take photographs for a living?” she asked.

  “I see your point,” I said, “but I do have experience taking pictures, whereas you have no idea how to practice law.”

  Miranda dropped the camera from in front of her face and looked at me directly. “Emma, I have no problem with you waiting if you agree to be quiet until I’m done.”

  “Yes, sorry.” I pretended to zip my lip.

  “Now, Gary,” Miranda began, “crook your finger and tip up her chin to admire her beautiful face.”

  Gary did as instructed. “Is your makeup going to be this heavy during the ceremony?” he asked his future wife.

  Bethenny recoiled. “What’s wrong with my makeup?”

  “That eyeliner is a little thick,” I agreed.

  “Miranda said I’ll look better in photographs with more makeup,” Bethenny said, her voice growing shrill.

  “It’s true,” Miranda said.

  “I always prefer the natural look,” I said. “Why not look like yourself on your wedding day?”

  “Yeah,” Gary said. “I don’t want to marry a stranger.”

  “She’s not a stranger, Gary,” Miranda said. “She’s still Bethenny.”

  “I don’t want to wear the makeup if Gary doesn’t like it,” Bethenny said.

  Miranda smacked her forehead. “You’ve created a mutiny,” she complained.

  “I do have a knack for that sort of thing,” I said sheepishly.

  Bethenny arched away from the cliffside. “I’m going to fix my face before we take any more pictures.”

  “You’re the boss,” Miranda said. As soon as Bethenny walked past us, the Gorgon scowled at me. “Why don’t we discuss whatever it is you need so that you can be on your way?”

  “Good idea,” I said. “Your sister’s been arrested for turning someone to stone.”

  Miranda’s eyes bulged and her snakes writhed beneath the decorative headscarf. “What are you talking about?”

  I explained what happened to Albert Geary and Althea.

  “No way,” Miranda said. “Althea would never do that. We’ve been very careful all the years we’ve lived here. We knew one wrong move would alienate everyone.”

  “There was nowhere else to go when the town was cursed,” I said.

  “Exactly,” Miranda replied.

  “Maybe that’s why then,” I said. “You’re all free to leave town now. Maybe she snapped.”

  Miranda’s eyes narrowed. “Are you really suggesting that my sister turned this elf to stone because he was rude?”

  “No, I don’t think she did it,” I said. “But the reason you gave me for not turning anyone to stone doesn’t apply anymore. It won’t be enough to convince anyone.”

  Miranda seemed to digest the information. “We have to help her.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do. Do you know of anyone who might have similar abilities to yours?”

  “Other than Amanda, no,” Miranda said. “Maybe someone in your coven…”

  “No,” I said. “I tried overriding it with a counterspell, but it didn’t work. The sheriff thinks a Gorgon has to be involved.”

  “And no other Gorgons have come to town, have they?” Miranda asked, more to herself.

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “I hate to say it, but Amanda is the most ornery of the three of us. If anyone would snap, it’s her.”

  Miranda was throwing her younger sister under the bus? That seemed out of character for her.

  “Do you really think Amanda is capable of doing that?” I asked.

  “No more than Althea is, honestly,” Miranda said. “I haven’t spoken to her in a few days, but she was pretty stressed the last time we spoke.”

  “About what?”

  “The usual. Men, work, time.” Miranda smiled. “She’s envious of our cousins traveling around the world and wants to do something similar.”

  The three Grey sisters had left their cave after the curse was broken and embarked on a world tour. They hadn’t yet returned, but I expected them to come home…eventually.

  “I can’t imagine Althea taking time off anytime soon,” I said. “Not with her school schedule and work.”

  “Exactly. Althea said no and Amanda was annoyed.”

  “Not annoyed enough to frame her, I guess.”

  Miranda laughed. “We’re not harpies, Emma. We don’t do spite in quite the same way.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve had any interactions with Albert Geary in the last week,” I said.

  Miranda snorted. “I’ve never even heard the name before now.”

  “It’s getting warm out here in this suit,” Gary complained, loosening his bow tie.

  “Suck it up, Gary,” Miranda called. “Women have been uncomfortable for centuries.”

  Bethenny returned with a makeup-free face and flashed a huge smile.

  “You look radiant,” I said.

  Miranda observed her through the lens. “You know what? She really does.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I said, “but I wanted to let you know what was happening.”

  “I appreciate it. I’ll go see Althea as soon as I’m finished here.”

  “Do me a favor,” I said. “Don’t tell Amanda. I promise I’ll see her first thing tomorrow, but I don’t think I can manage much more movement today.” My feet were hurting and I needed a nap.

  Miranda pursed her lips. “You want to question her.”

  “What choice do I have?” I asked. “I have to rule out the two of you first. It’s the most logical step.”

  Miranda hefted her camera. “Logic,” she sniffed. “No wonder you and Althea get along so well.” Her expression grew concerned. “I hope your logic helps you figure this out quickly. I hate the thought of her sitting in some horrible cell. She’s my family, Emma.”

  “I’ll do everything in my power,” I swore. Although I didn’t say it out loud, I had no doubt that Miranda knew what I was thinking—that Althea was my family, too.

  Chapter Four

  “Gareth, what are you doing?” I asked.

  He hovered in the pantry, staring intently at the shelf. “These colors aren’t identical.”

  I crossed the kitchen to peer over—well, through—his shoulder. “Where did these jars of baby food come from?” There were multiple rows of them—corn, peas, sweet potato, chicken and rice.

  “I have my ways,” he replied.

  “Why are you so concerned with identical colors?” Then it hit me. “Gareth, are you arranging these jars by color?”

  “What do you think
the color wheel is for?” he demanded.

  I observed the rows of yellows, that blended into oranges, and so on. “There’s no baby yet, and even when there is, he won’t eat solid foods for like a year. I’m not sure how long these jars will keep.”

  “These are for apocalypse purposes only,” Gareth said. “We’re going to make homemade food once the baby’s introduced to solids.”

  I balked. “We are?” I cleared my throat. “You do remember that cooking isn’t my strong suit, right?”

  “What’s to cook?” he asked. “You bake a sweet potato, scoop out the inside, and mash it. Dinner is served.”

  I pondered his response. “Sounds easy enough.”

  “How are your breasts?”

  I glanced down at my chest. “Getting larger and more painful by the day. Why do you ask?”

  “That’s the baby’s main food supply right there,” Gareth said. “We need to make certain everything’s in working order.”

  My hands flew to cover my chest. “I don’t think we can make certain until the baby is born and my milk comes in.”

  “There are no preliminary measures we can take?”

  I pressed my lips together. “I think it’s best if you leave the care of my breasts to me.”

  Gareth inclined his head, eyeing my chest. “I’m not sure that’s wise.”

  “Gareth, if you don’t want to see these jars mixed together, you’d better stop staring at my boobs.”

  He jerked his chin up. “You know it isn’t sexual, Emma. I much prefer a finely sculpted man chest.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  Gareth clucked his tongue. “Don’t try to do everything yourself, Emma. Accept offers of help.”

  “We’re talking about my body.” I tried to smack his arm, but my hand went right through him. “Breastfeeding is an intensely personal decision and I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”

  “There’s a parenting class at the library that starts this week,” Gareth said. “I think we should sign up.”

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten in my head. “We?”

  “You, me, and Mr. Feathers For Brains.”

  “Gareth, I don’t think you need to be…”