Inconvenient Murder: An Inept Witches Mystery (17 page)

“Boob hair,” Emily whispered back.

“Don’t say boobs,” Ingrid whispered.

“Follow me,” Hazel said, ignoring them both.

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be scarred for life,” Ingrid choked out. “The chick who’d just had a baby was leaking milk. Oh my gosh.”

But Emily couldn’t look at whatever Ingrid was staring at, because she was staring at Autumn’s perfect boobs. When Emily didn’t reply, Ingrid followed her friend’s gaze.

“Oh, she totally has boob magic down,” Emily whispered to Ingrid.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Ingrid whispered back.

“Sisters, welcome. Emily and Ingrid are working on increasing their personal powers. Though they have been members of the coven for a long while now, they are just now becoming active. We are happy to have them, and I expect each of you will make them feel welcome.”

“Hi,” Emily squeaked, intimidated by seventeen sets of naked breasts. Holding back the hysterical laughter was harder than she’d imagined.

Ingrid gulped and gave a semi-friendly wave, but her eyes were back on the sky.

Emily whispered in Hazel’s ear.

“Auntie, do we have to, you know, strip down?”

Hazel’s lips formed a thin line. “You want help with the hex or not,” she asked, looking directly at Autumn across the circle.

Ingrid let out an exasperated sigh, eyeing her current arch-enemy and whispered to Emily. “I feel I deserve a better nemesis than that cow-dove. You know what. Even without magic, ours are perkier and cuter. We may as well show them off.”

“Everyone please join hands.”

Instead, they waited while Emily and Ingrid slowly stripped. Ingrid’s mutters were as foul-mouthed as a frat boy’s. Once their clothes lay on a log nearby, they joined in the circle, gripping each other’s hands as they joined hands with the others in the circle.

Emily spoke under her breath. “The truth serum was your idea, Ingrid. I’m never letting you forget this.”

Ingrid used her magic to flick the back of Emily’s head. “See, you need to practice your magic so you can do stuff like that. Also, you’re the one with the budding ‘I need to serum the world’ problem.”

“I’m slipping it randomly into your coffee as soon as I get the spell down.”

“Cow,” Ingrid hissed.

“Wench,” Emily hissed back.

Hazel started to speak. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Feel the power of nature around you.”

“Finally. An excuse to close my eyes,” Emily rejoiced.

“I know, right? Red-head’s boobs are entirely too bouncy to be without a bra. I feel like I’m watching those glass-ball-thingy-magigs. You know?”

“Totally,” Emily said.

Ingrid laughed and glanced at Emily. They didn’t need to talk about what they absolutely were not looking at. Or think about anyone else checking out their own. They were not going to look further south. Boobs were bad enough. Neither wanted to see one other body parts. So eyes were strictly up. The bouncing lady flesh might be drawing their eyes, helplessly.

Or they were choosing to see that. And not one other thing.

Not one.

Damn it.

Emily’s laugh, echoed by Ingrid’s, earned them both a stern look from Hazel.

“Eyes closed, that means all of you. Also, Ingrid and Emily, you are not children.”

That made Ingrid laugh harder.

Hazel pretended not to notice.

“Very good. Now with each deep inhalation I want you to imagine that you are inhaling all the power of nature. Breathe in seven times and then take three steps to your left.”

Emily started counting out loud, which earned a harsh “shush” from someone in the group. Once she’d hit her seven breaths she took a step to her right and ran right into the person who was simultaneously stepping left.

“Wrong way, Em.” Ingrid’s laugh suddenly annoyed Emily. There was something.

Something.

“I know my right from my left, Ingrid,” she said harshly. “I just forgot which way we were supposed to step. I can’t count and walk at the same time.”

“Cow-dove,” Ingrid said, without heat, as Emily stumbled three steps to the left, cracking her eyes open to make sure she was traveling in the right direction and then abruptly closing them again after getting an eyeful of someone’s nipples across the way.

“There isn’t enough therapy in the world to banish this memory from my mind,” Ingrid mutter.

Hazel’s voice interrupted. “Now that you are in place, access that deep breath, that power of nature that you have imbibed, and with an exhale, open your eyes, focus on the leaves of a tree in the distance and blow. Concentrate and you will see the leaves move.”

Ingrid’s snort was easily translated into “Are you kidding me?” But she blew out.

Emily heard the people around her exhale. She opened her eyes and looked to the outskirts of the clearing and saw branches all around the clearing swaying in the magical breeze.

She concentrated, intent on making her magic work for her, and then focused on a particular branch. Then she exhaled. She could feel the force of the air traveling out of her mouth up and out. But instead of her breath gently traveling to the treetops, it circled up around Ingrid’s head, pulling it out in all directions.

“Ow!” Ingrid screamed. Emily gaped at her friend, watching her hair stand on end, pulling so tightly that Ingrid’s eyes became squinty. “I am going to slap you into next week if this damages my hair, Em!”

Emily imagined Ingrid being able to speak Chinese while topless and her hair standing on end and burst out laughing. Ingrid’s hair fell back down around her shoulders, and Emily sat down on her butt and laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

When she caught her breath and looked around, she saw all the members of the group staring at her.

Ingrid leaned over and whispered, “Remember how they told us to breathe out and focus on a tree.”

Emily nodded.

“I think mine is burning.”

Emily stood up, gathered up her clothes and started for the trees. “I’m out of here.” With one look over her shoulder, she glared at Autumn. Whatever this woman could do wasn’t worth being naked in the woods.

Then she looked at Ingrid, who had already grabbed her clothes and started for the cars. Her gaze was darting at the tree and then back at the cars.

“Some witch she is.” Autumn’s voice caught up to Emily, who froze in place upon hearing the accusation.

Then another anonymous voice from the coven. “You know she’s going to be the next leader of the coven.”

“Not likely,” Autumn said in her sickening snarky voice. “Not with her skills. Or complete lack of skills.”

Immediately Hazel spoke in her most authoritative voice. “That’s enough Autumn.”

Ingrid and Emily turned to look at Hazel, who was approaching them. Emily fought the urge to set Autumn ablaze right here in front of everyone. Instead, she took a deep breath.

“Go on girls. That’s enough for tonight.”

Ingrid closed the distance to Hazel, whispered into her ear—probably a confession— and then took off running toward the Escalade. Emily followed.

Ingrid took her hand and spoke softly. “Don’t listen to her. She knows nothing.”

Emily smiled, grateful for her friend’s comforting words. Grateful, but still angry.

“I’m gonna burn that chick alive. You just wait. It’ll be on purpose this time.”

Emily felt the familiar clawing in her stomach at the unwelcome memory of her magical accident. The accident that killed that helpless boy. The reason that Emily had excluded magic from her life. Until recently, that is. Hazel kept insisting that he would have died either way, but Emily had been overconfident. She happened to be passing a house that was fully engulfed in flames. The firemen were there already, but she’d stuck around to watch the cute men put out the fires. When one of the firemen came out with the half-burned little boy, Emily hadn't thought twice about trying to heal him with the spell she’d been practicing. She’d used too much magic, too fast and the boy died in her arms. It didn’t matter that he might have died. She hadn’t been able to pace herself and the boy paid with his life.

She walked away from her magic that day, left in smoldering in the ashes of the little boy’s desiccated home.

Ingrid spoke, pulling her out of her memory.

“I’ll help you dispose of the ashes. We could get an urn and display her on our fireplace. It’ll be epic.”

By the time they were back to the cars, they were laughing like drunk monkeys.

“That was—”

“Yeah, never again,” Emily said. “I’m just gonna learn to hex Autumn before she learns to hex us.”

They were scrambling into clothes because they’d run back all the way naked.

“Let’s hire a hit-hexer. Or we could hire the evil coven. It’s too cold to be prancing around with no clothes on. Man, only self-control kept me from seeing southern lady bits. I mean, what the front door? Maybe, maybe I’d get naked outside with my sheriff. But only because he’d be able to keep me warm. Those chicks were in it for the long haul. Outside. Cold. Naked. No men. What the front door again.”

“Don’t forget my firefighter.”

“I don’t want your firefighter. I want my sheriff. Your firefighter is a poor man’s sheriff.”

“Wench.”

“Whore.”

They turned on their seat heaters and headed home to warm up with things like central heating, magical espresso, and robes.

“Hag.”

“Cow-Dove.”

“Let’s go home.”

13

Wednesday Morning

“I think you should know that this murder investigation is seriously screwing up both my nap schedule and my lusting after Sheriff Hotpants schedule,” Ingrid said as Emily opened the door and slid inside the Escalade.

“What are you saying?” Emily leaned back in the car and closed her eyes. “What are we doing again?”

“Do I have to keep track of everything?” Ingrid whined and then said, “We’re stealing a truth potion from Autumn. And then we’re dosing creepy gallery guy. What’s his name again?”

“I don’t know. Doug, maybe,” Emily whined back. “When this is done, we need to go somewhere tropical. I will only pack swim suits.”

“I’m planning on putting on some weight. I’m not sure I want to go to bikini country.”

“Please, like you care if you match the skinny wenches who’ll be trotting around.”

Ingrid swerved the SUV around some tourists on bicycles. She honked as she passed to see them jump because their skirts were too flow-y and florally. It made her feel like she’d been transported to hippie country. She preferred her tourists on another island.

“Oh, yeah,” Ingrid said. “I don’t care, do I? Hey, by the way, I didn’t make my tai chi appointment with the hot-bendy-dove. I think I just need Gabe to move in. How many calories do you burn when you have sex?”

“Probably enough to have chips for breakfast.” Emily slipped off her flip-flops and showed Ingrid her toes. “I added red French tips to the black polish. What do you think? Do the red tips look gothy or do they take off the hardcore edge?”

“Emily, please. I already told you that you aren’t going to jail. I’m going to hire the creepy coven. As soon as I can find their number. Or gear up to speak to Saffron. She used to be part of creepy coven, so I bet we could pay her to help us get the hex off of us if Hazel won’t rescue us. Also, by the way, Saffron’s boobs were nicer than mine. That makes me sad in my heart. But hey, speaking of…” She lifted her foot off the gas, propped it on the dashboard of the car, and took a picture of her toes in the red strappy sandals.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending Gabe sexy pictures.”

“Of your feet? Do you already know his fetishes? If you do, tell me more. Much, much more.”

“No, my feet are pretty now. He should be thinking about them.” She twisted her foot over Emily’s lap before putting her foot back on the gas. They’d slowed almost to a stop and some random person behind them was honking. She waved at him as he sped by, flipping her off.

“Some people,” Emily said. “But some people find feet gross. Maybe Hotpants does.”

“My feet are pretty,” Ingrid said. Her phone buzzed, and she tossed it to Emily. “What’s it say?”

“Why aren’t you just reading it?”

“I’m being safe now. It might have been unwise to take a picture of my feet and sext it to Gabe while driving.”

“Feet pictures are not sexting,” Emily said. “I should be able to confirm what is considered sexting as soon as I have dickhead’s phone from the police.”

“Oh, man,” Ingrid said. “Can you imagine how many pictures of his junk dickhead sent those poor schmoes who slept with him? You excepted, of course. You were an idiot to marry him, but hey…we’re all stupid sometimes.”

“I have a lack of faith in my judgment now.” Emily opened her bag to pull out a bag of chips. “Speaking of my lack of judgment, I find that I’m super snacky lately. Do you think I’m pregnant?”

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t trust yourself ever again after the doozy of marrying dickhead. We should set up a qualifying questionnaire. Like, could I imagine this person sleeping with my grandmother? Yes? Okay, don’t date him. Also, no, you aren’t pregnant. If you were, all those witch aunts of yours would tell you in that shocked way they have. With the eyebrows and pursed lips.”