Get with the Potion Page 9

  “That’s right. I had coffee with her maybe three times; the last time was a couple weeks ago. If she was here more than that, I don’t know what she was doing, but it wasn’t with me. Let me put some feelers out, though, and see what I can find out for you.”

  “That would be wonderful, thank you,” I said, and Megan nodded as she pulled out her phone and began sending out a few text messages. A minute later, there was a ding in reply, and Megan’s eyebrows rose.

  “My sister says she saw Danielle with a local wizard, Martin Lefeu, at the bar about a month ago. She recognized her when she read about Danielle’s death in the paper. Because of course Ashley reads the paper cover to cover every day. There must have been a small article somewhere about Danielle’s death.”

  “Do you know this Martin?” I asked. “Would you be willing to make an introduction?”

  “Of course,” Megan replied, and I could practically feel Willow trying to hold back a sigh next to me. She seemed much happier rubbing Sherlock’s tummy than helping out in this investigation. “Martin works from four in the morning until two in the afternoon; if you’re willing to hang around for a few hours, I’ll take you down to the bar after two. He likes to hang around there for probably longer than he should after work.”

  “Sure,” I replied. “Do you need a hand with those cookies? I promise to only pretend to drop a few of them on the floor so I can eat them afterward.”

  Megan grinned at me. “Fair enough, but please don’t actually drop them on the floor. Sherlock has broken the sound barrier to get at food that’s fallen off the counter before, and I don’t want him getting into the chocolate.”

  “Will do,” I said with a laugh. “Although at the moment he looks like he’s decided Willow is dedicated to patting him forever.”

  “He definitely looks that way. But ninety percent of his brain is constantly wired to search out more sources of food. Trust me. Now, come on, I’ll show you how to make the cookies.”

  “Well, I think regardless of whether or not you help us with the murder investigation, Ali is officially thrilled with the decision to have come here,” Willow announced.

  “Are you kidding? I was thrilled after I’d eaten the first cookie. Getting to help make more of them is just a bonus!”

  “Well, I’m going to be looking for employees soon, so depending on how well you do, this could end up being a job interview,” she said to me with a wink.

  “If you’re willing to do it on a short-term basis, I absolutely accept on behalf of Ali,” Willow said. “She needs something to fill the days that doesn’t involve chasing murderers.”

  “I do not,” I replied. Megan laughed, then showed me how to take the cookies and dip them in the chocolate, place them on the parchment paper, and then add the sprinkles and cast the spell that made them turn into Halloween shapes.

  “This is a coven of Mars spell, so it’s probably going to take you a few tries to get it right,” she explained. I went through the first few steps, ending up with a cookie half-covered in chocolate on the parchment paper, added the sprinkles, pulled out my wand, and cast the incantation.

  “Mars, god of war, turn these sprinkles into Halloween charms. I feel like a god of war would want you to do something more intense with your magic than cool effects on cookies,” I added, earning myself another laugh from Megan.

  “Maybe. So far, he seems ok with it. On the other hand, I’m not sure Mars was thrilled with that comment, given what’s happening to your sprinkles.”

  I looked at the cookie and groaned. Instead of turning into an adorable pumpkin or a bubbling cauldron, my sprinkles had formed into the world’s creepiest-looking jack-o’-lantern, and then seemingly melted into the chocolate, giving his strange teeth and misshapen eyes a real Salvador Dali look to them.

  Great.

  “Ugh. Any way to reverse the spell and try again?” I asked.

  “You might as well just consider that one a trial cookie and eat it, then start again,” Megan said. I happily set the cookie aside, determined to get this foreign spell right, and set about my second attempt.

  Chapter 16

  After a couple more attempts, I got the hang of the spell—it helped when I focused on the fire within me when I cast it—and managed to make cookies that were more cute and adorable than horror-movie rejects. Eventually, Megan left me to decorate the cookies while she baked up another batch, and by the time two o’clock rolled around, there were around eighty cookies all ready to sell.

  “Perfect,” Megan said with a satisfied smile as she placed her hands on her hips and admired our handiwork. “That was super helpful, thank you, Ali.”

  “No problem,” I replied with a grin as I hid my stomachache. I had eaten too many of the rejected cookies. I couldn’t take a job with Megan; I would gain way too much weight.

  Willow ended up falling asleep on the couch, with Sherlock snoring right alongside her, Willow’s hand still on his belly as he pressed himself against her leg. It was absolutely adorable.

  Just then, Willow stirred and let out a loud yawn. “Are we going yet?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “We’re just about ready. Long night?”

  “You have no idea,” Willow replied. “No one tells you one of the worst parts of being a healer is that you never function on a regular sleep schedule. I swear I spend a quarter of my income on energy-boosting potions.”

  Megan laughed. “I have some chocolates for that. They probably taste better than the potions.”

  “Definitely,” Willow replied. “Do you sell your chocolates in Mt. Rheanier yet? You’d make a fortune putting vending machines in the hospitals for the staff.”

  “I’m just in talks with the grocery store there. I think the owner’s going to be placing an order soon,” Megan replied.

  “Well, I’m definitely a fan if you have energy-boosting chocolates.”

  The three of us left, with Sherlock not having moved from his spot on the couch, and began making our way into town. We found ourselves at the local bar a few minutes later, which looked, well, pretty similar to the bar for witches and wizards in Mt. Rheanier, advertising that they served twelve different craft beers on tap. There was something comforting about the similar décor.

  Megan confidently made her way to a booth at the back of the bar, where sat a man in his forties with a half-full glass of beer on the table in front of him. He was by himself, and he looked up with idle curiosity as the three of us slipped into the booth on the other side of him.

  “It’s not my birthday for another month,” he said with a wry smile, taking another big sip of beer.

  “Hi, Martin,” Megan replied, ignoring the comment. “We need to ask you some questions about Danielle Dashwood.”

  “Who?”

  “That witch you had a drink with here about a month ago.”

  “Sorry, my memory’s not that great these days.”

  I sighed. “She was a teenager, about eighteen, blonde, very pretty. From Mt. Rheanier.” I figured Martin couldn’t talk to that many witches who fit that description.

  “Oh yeah,” he finally said after about a three-second pause. “Yeah, I think I remember her.”

  “What did she come here to talk to you about?”

  “Well, I remember she came in with another guy. And I was at the table next to them having a chat with…” He paused as he tried to think. “Nope, no idea. But I was chatting with someone. Maybe Charlie, or Tom. Not quite sure. After they left, she left the guy she was with and wanted to talk to me.”

  I wanted to smack this guy upside the head with his own beer glass. He was so out of it I was amazed he remembered to put clothes on in the morning. There had to be something, though. Danielle wouldn’t have gone and spoken to this guy for nothing.

  “Do you remember if you spoke about Las Brujas with her?” Willow asked. She mouthed the words “leading questions” at me and Megan, and we nodded in understanding. A wizard in this state was definitely not going to answer as well
to generic questions.

  “No, I don’t think that came up at all,” Martin said, suddenly sticking a finger in his ear and digging around for some wax. “We mainly just spoke about life. She wanted to know what life was like here. I told her about my job, I told her about my sister, I told her about my sister’s no-good husband, and I told her about that lady whose parents got arrested, and how there’s rumors about a gang being involved.”

  The three of us shared an incredulous look. “We literally just asked you if you spoke about the gang,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah. You did. Well, I guess I did tell her about it. But, I mean, I don’t know much. I told her to speak to that Numa chick.”

  “Yes, Martin, that would be me,” Megan deadpanned.

  “Oh. Cool. Did you talk to her?”

  “We did. What else did you tell her?”

  He shrugged. “That’s all, I think. She said she was going to go and find you, but I don’t know if she ever did.”

  “Alright, well, thanks for the help. Try not to drop your remaining brain cell on the floor on your way out,” I said. It was a little mean, but I was frustrated. Martin could have been helpful, but instead his memory was so shot from overdrinking that we had no idea what else he would have known. The three of us left the bar and made our way back outside, with me burying my hands into my jacket pocket as soon as they hit the cold air.

  “Well, I suppose that explains how Danielle found out about you,” Willow said to Megan, who nodded.

  “Right. I didn’t realize how many people around town had heard about what I was doing.”

  “Small towns,” I shrugged.

  “That’s the thing. Well, at least now I know how she found out about me. She had always been vague about it.”

  “Still, it’s strange. I wonder why she started talking to Martin in the first place. He said he was talking about his family. Who’s his family?”

  Megan shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know them well. He has a couple of brothers here in town. They all do low-level, rather menial wizard work. He has a sister as well, but she moved fifteen years ago, married someone from another coven somewhere. I don’t think she’s been back here since. His parents are both still alive, but they’re long since retired and mostly just keep to themselves as far as I know.”

  I frowned. “Strange.”

  Willow looked at Megan carefully. “I don’t like the fact that you’re looking into Las Brujas getting around. Are you sure you’re alright?”

  Megan nodded. “Thanks for the concern, but yes. I think how much I’m investigating is definitely being overblown. I’ve come across some information, but it’s not like I’m really trying to do anything against them.”

  “Good,” Willow said. “For your own safety’s sake. I wouldn’t want to see anything bad happening to you.”

  Megan smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’m sure they’ve got way bigger fish to fry.”

  The three of us walked back toward the beach, as I figured it was time for me and Willow to head back to Mt. Rheanier. There wasn’t much more I could do here in Pacific Cove, anyway. So much for the theory that Danielle had a super-secret boyfriend here, or something along those lines.

  Suddenly, up ahead, a goat appeared out of nowhere. A little tiny goat. He had to be about a foot and a half tall, and all white, with black spots on his ears. Normally, I wouldn’t have thought much about it. A goat got away from a local farm, or something like that. But this goat was standing in the middle of the road, staring at us.

  “Look at that little cutie,” Willow said with a smile, making her way toward the goat. The small bundle of fluff charged suddenly, rushing at Willow, who, as the goat got closer to her, let out a small squeal and began running in the other direction.

  I burst out laughing. “You’re afraid of a tiny little goat?” I said to Willow, when suddenly the ball of fluff turned to me. Ok, maybe it wasn’t quite as funny when the goat was aimed at my legs.

  “I’m not a tiny goat,” the creature said before charging right at me. No. That couldn’t have happened. Surely I was imagining things. The goat couldn’t have spoken. But I didn’t have time to think about that now; he was coming right at me. A part of me wanted to pull out my wand to stop it, but I mean, I wasn’t going to use a spell on a goat that probably weighed twenty pounds. Plus, I’d just made fun of Willow for freaking out about the goat attack. I had to take it on, or else I’d never hear the end of it.

  “Look out,” Megan shouted as she backed away slowly, like you’re supposed to do when you see a bear.

  The goat came closer and I braced myself, ready for impact. I decided the best way to go was to try and scare it back, so when the goat got about two feet away from me, its head down as it rushed toward me, I stepped forward and shouted “Boo!” as quickly and as loudly as I could.

  I had expected the goat to run away, or maybe turn from me and run at something else. But instead, suddenly, his entire body seized and he fell onto his side, like he’d suddenly turned to stone.

  “What the…” I said, making my way carefully toward him.

  “You didn’t kill that goat, did you?” Megan asked, coming toward me.

  “What? No, of course not,” I replied. “I mean, I didn’t mean to. I hope he’s ok. I just wanted to scare him. Did he have a heart attack or something?” The two of us stood over the little goat while Willow started laughing at us in the background.

  “You’ve just had your first experience with a myotonic goat,” she said.

  “A what?” I asked, turning from the goat to face her.

  “They’re also called fainting goats. He’s ok, he just got a bit of a fright. They’re a special breed of goats; whenever they get scared, their muscles seize up and they freeze, like they’ve fainted. Give him a few more seconds and he’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Megan said. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t want to get charged by him, but I didn’t want him to be dead.”

  “Me neither,” I replied, inwardly relieved that I hadn’t accidentally killed a goat. Surely that would have been the bringer of some pretty terrible karma. I leaned down and stroked his soft fur.

  “Is there anything we can do for him, Willow?”

  She shook her head. “No, just give it a few more seconds. He’ll come to on his own.

  Sure enough, about ten seconds later, the goat’s legs began to twitch. “Hey, little buddy,” I told him. “It’s ok. You’re fine, but we would really appreciate it if you didn’t try to attack us again.”

  “Well, how else was I supposed to get your attention?” the goat asked, and I gasped.

  “What is it?” Megan asked.

  “He…he spoke. Did you guys hear that? The goat can talk.”

  I stole a glance at Willow’s face, which just looked confused, but Megan broke out into a smile. “I didn’t hear anything, which means you’ve just found yourself your familiar.”

  “My familiar?” I gaped at the goat. Was this really the animal I was supposed to spend the rest of one of our lives with?

  Willow laughed. “That’s actually perfect. A goat is the perfect familiar for you, Ali. You’re going to be just as stubborn as each other.”

  “I had kind of hoped for a puppy,” I muttered, and the goat glared at me.

  “And I thought I was going to get a witch who didn’t scare her poor familiar as soon as they met. Besides, puppies are terrible. They drool all over you, and they’re always so complacent. You need a goat. We have personality.”

  Ok, so I laughed at that. “What’s your name, anyway? If you’re my familiar, I should know what to call you.”

  “My name is Vincent Van Goat,” he replied. “But you can always call me Vinnie.”

  “Will do, Vinnie,” I said. “How did you find me here, anyway?”

  “Ah, that’s a secret among familiars,” he replied. “I can’t give away our secrets.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Megan smiled. “This is such a
lovely moment. Don’t you just love getting to know your familiar?”

  “I guess he’s kind of cute,” I said, and Vinnie made a bit of a harrumphing sound.

  “I’m adorable, thank you very much.”

  Even Willow dared to get a little bit closer to him. “Is it ok if I pat him?” she asked.

  “Please,” Vinnie replied. “I’m my own goat. She can ask me instead.”

  “Ask him,” I told her, nodding toward the goat.

  “Could I please pat you?” Willow said.

  “She can, but I might bite her.”

  “Do not bite her,” I replied sternly. “You can pat him, it’s fine,” I said to Willow, who moved her hand carefully toward him. Honestly, I didn’t really blame her for being a bit skittish. But I supposed my tone must have worked, because Vinnie let Willow pat him on the head without biting her, and when she pulled her hand away, she smiled.

  “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he is,” Megan agreed, risking a pat of her own.

  “I’m not going to lie, I do like all this attention,” Vinnie said.

  “Well, you get more attention when you don’t try and bite people,” I replied. “Or charge at them. You’re cute. Use that to your advantage.”

  Willow grinned at me. “It sounds like the two of you are perfect for each other.”

  “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean you’re just as stubborn as one another, and you have the same amazing social skills.”

  I made a snarky face at Willow, but I had to admit, maybe there was something to it. Maybe a goat really was the perfect familiar for me.

  Well, regardless of what I preferred, it looked like, for better or for worse, Vinnie and I were stuck with each other. He was my familiar, and I was his witch.

  This was going to take some getting used to.

  Chapter 17

  After a few more minutes of fawning over Vinnie, the four of us separated, with Megan heading back to her house and promising to let us know if she remembered or heard anything that might help us—and promising to tell us as soon as she delivered some chocolates to the grocery store in Mt. Rheanier—while Willow, Vinnie, and I made our way back toward the beach and the portal.