Page 8 of Magic Blooms

seven

The Pinecrest Inn looked nothing like Fox’s End. Whereas Lorraine's establishment was rustic and charming, Pinecrest appeared elegant and expensive.

Rather than designing their lawns and flower beds to fit the terrain, the land had been torn out and reconstructed to fit the developer’s vision for the spot.

Each plant, bush, and flower had been placed precisely where it was meant to go and was blocked from expanding any further by paving stones and neat, black woodchips.

Clearly expensive, the outside had been painted a pristine white with large columns along the front scaling up all three stories. It was as though this place had been intended to come across as an important historical site, but even an outsider like me could tell this was a brand-new construction.

I leaned forward in Joshua’s truck to get a better view as we continued our approach. The inside of his truck was immaculately clean despite the dirty exterior and powerful engine blowing emissions into the surrounding country air.

When I’d first taken my spot on the bench seat, Joshua smiled and formally introduced me to “Old Sparky,” thus named because the vehicle had a bad habit of eating its way through spark plugs.

I didn't know what spark plugs were, but Sparky sounded like a cute name, so I’d be sure to use it going forward.

Lorraine's tiny hybrid car, by contrast, had been filled with scraps of paper and old coffee cups. Obviously, Joshua had different values when it came to his mode of transportation.

"So do you really think this Gerry could be our killer?" I asked as we continued up the long drive of the bustling Pinecrest Inn.

Joshua shrugged as he navigated a subtle curve in the driveway. "We can't rule it out without talking to him."

"But you know him, right? Lorraine told me that you do work for him sometimes."

He glanced over at me and raised one skeptical eyebrow. "The two of you were talking about me?"

I felt like I’d been caught in the act, but at the same time knew I hadn't done anything wrong. "I was asking her if you were okay after what happened in the storm. I was worried."

He snorted and turned his eyes back to the road. We’d reached the small parking lot now. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine."

"So you don’t think he did it? Or you don’t want to say?" I asked with a smug grin, unwilling to let him get off the hook that easily.

Joshua eased Old Sparky into a tight space and shut off the engine, then turned to me with a worn expression.

"I’ve been doing work on and off for Gerry ever since he bought the place five years ago.

I’ve been doing more and more for him lately since his regular handyman quit about a year ago.

What can I say about Gerry? He pays on time, but I've always got to negotiate him up to a fair wage.

He's a stingy boss. And yeah, he dislikes Lorraine every bit as much as she dislikes him.”

I shook my head and huffed. "Well, I don’t blame Lorraine. After all, he opened a competing business just down the road from her. Not very nice at all."

Joshua chuckled under his breath. "We live in a capitalist society. Competing businesses are the backbone of America."

"Hmm. I don't know about any of that, but I know rude when I see it. Lorraine was here first. That should be respected."

"You’re not wrong, but disrespecting those that came first is also kind of American thing,” he answered bitterly, wrapping his hands around the wheel even though the engine had already been turned off.

I stared blankly, not understanding the reference at all.

Joshua just grunted and shook his head. "Let's get this over with. Let me do all the talking. You just stand there, look pretty, and try to make Gerry comfortable."

Before I could protest his demand that I stay quiet, Joshua was already getting out of the truck.

Even though he was probably right that I should keep silent, seeing how little I knew about the situation, I didn't like being ordered around or being told my looks were the only thing I could offer in this situation.

Normally, I had no problem standing back and staying quiet while others—usually my parents—dealt with what needed dealing. So why did I hate Joshua suggesting I do the very same thing?

This whole experience here was becoming far too dangerous. Either it—or the people I was meeting here—were changing me. And I feared it might not be for the better.

I got out of the truck and quickened my pace to catch up with Joshua.

He stopped to hold the door open for me, and a giant wave of frigid air hit us full-on.

I shivered as I stepped inside and got my first look at the interior of the establishment.

Right away, I could see why my gracious hostess wasn't a fan. It didn’t feel lived in or even welcoming. The cold marble floors and fancy artwork made me feel as if the luxury inn didn’t want my business, nor that they needed it.

If the outside felt fake, then the inside just felt sad. Cold. And not just from the artificially chilled air.

A young, attractive man wearing a sweater vest and tie smiled at me from behind the service desk, pointedly ignoring my companion. "Welcome to the Pinecrest Inn. Do you have a reservation?"

"She's not a guest," grumbled Joshua. "Is Gerry around?"

The greeter frowned for a moment, then caught himself and forced another fake smile.

"I'm afraid Mr. Carpenter has a very full day today.

If you want to give me your name and number, I can make sure he gets back to you as soon as he is able.

" Both helpful and dismissive at the exact same time—that definitely took training.

Joshua took a small step forward—small but loaded with intensity, his building irritation rolling off his body in waves.

The greeter’s shoulders slumped, and he blinked rapidly while remaining mute.

I glanced between the two very different men. Was this part of Joshua's magical ability? Was he some sort of species that can just terrify others on a whim? Or was that more the effect of his strong personality?

"My name is Joshua, and you darn well know that. I'm here to see Gerry, and you’re going to call him for me right now. Got it?"

“I, uh, I can’t—”

Joshua didn’t actually move, but he tensed up almost imperceptibly, and the much younger man immediately picked up his cell phone and pressed a button.

Everyone here seemed to have one of those things. Were they assigned at birth or was it a rite of passage? Not even everyone I met had a vehicle, but these little hand-held boxes seemed to have practically fused into each person’s hands.

“I hate to bother you, Mr. Carpenter, but Joshua Collins is here, and he seems rather insistent on speaking to you.”

There was a pause.

“Okay. Okay. All right. Gotcha. Yes, sir.”

The boy placed the phone back onto the counter, then turned his attention to us. “He’ll be right down.”

Well, that had proven effective. Way to go, Joshua!

I crossed my arms over my chest and tugged at the dress that Lorraine had bought for me.

She had found it on something called the clearance rack.

It was nothing like the luxurious materials I was used to wearing, but it was by far better than the lost-and-found items Lorraine had provided me before.

It had a small floral print and was shorter than dresses I usually wore, stopping a few inches above the knee.

But given the heavy heat and humidity outside, I didn’t mind wearing less fabric.

She’d called my new footwear sneakers, and while they weren’t the most elegant in appearance, they were certainly more comfortable than what I’d had on before.

A few seconds later Gerry emerged from the upstairs.

While the rest of Pinecrest came off as very polished and professional, Gerry looked like an employee of the inn rather than its owner—the kind you kept in the back, away from guests.

He wore a black and blue flannel shirt and a faded pair of jeans that were frayed along the bottoms. He also sported a full beard mixed with both red and gray hairs. It did not suit him.

Pinecrest Inn did not suit him, though he was its creator.

Now I understood why it felt so fake.

Because it was.

I could see why Lorraine didn’t get along with Mr. Gerry Carpenter. I hadn’t even spoken to him and already knew that I didn’t want to.

And while Joshua came off as gruff and unforgiving, the two men felt nothing alike.

Knowing there was something magical about Joshua but being unable to identify it was driving me crazy.

I liked that he seemed protective of Lorraine, though.

She’d been consistently friendly toward me ever since she’d found me wandering lost in the woods.

And if there was a killer lurking around, I needed to make sure that person was caught and punished before I left.

But was that person Gerry?

Hmmm,

This man was every bit as off-putting as Joshua was intriguing. I could definitely believe Gerry had committed murder, while I now knew Joshua would never hurt a fly, and would, indeed, brave great peril just to save some lost little piglets.

“Collins, what do you want?” asked Gerry as he motioned for us to follow him down a hallway.

“Have you heard what happened at Fox’s End?” Joshua asked, not bothering enough to fake pleasantries as Gerry led us into a small office at the end of the hall—one where he sat behind the desk, noticeably higher than the uncomfortable chairs provided for me and Joshua.

Gerry snorted. “Yeah, I’ve heard about it. Whole town has by now. You know how fast news travels here. And that’s especially bad news. It’s everyone’s favorite.” He smiled wide, giving me a clear view of his coffee-stained teeth.

“What has everyone been saying about it?”

“No one knows anything. But I’ve heard mumblings of a murder.”

My heart leapt inside my chest. “Who has been saying that?” I asked, belatedly remembering that Joshua had told me to stay quiet.

Gerry shrugged. “Heck if I know. Heard the sheriff and his crew think it was poison, though. I reckon that means you should be talking to Jasmine instead of here with me.”

Okay, I couldn’t be quiet about that one. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, if anyone knows how to poison someone, it’s that b… witch.” He paused and shot me an ingratiating grin. I wasn’t buying it though. “You see, because she’s got all those spells and potions in her shop.”

“Her shop sells spices and candles,” said Joshua in a tone that even I didn’t believe. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I know everyone is all hush-hush about these things, but who are we kidding? Jasmine is the peddler of half the magic in Elyria, and now we’ve got human guests falling over dead. If she’s not the one doing it, chances are good she sold the poison to whoever did the deed.”

“We don’t know for sure that anyone has been poisoned.”

He laughed so loudly, it grated on my nerves. “Well, you suspect it, and you think I’m the one who did it. Why else would you be here? Am I right?”

“You and Lorraine haven’t really made a secret of your disdain for each other. I’m not accusing you of anything, Gerry. I just wanted to make sure you and I are on the same page.”

Whoa, did it just get hotter in this room or was it just me? I resisted the urge to fan myself as the two men stared each other down.

“Hey, if you want to come here hurling accusations with no reason at all, go for it. But I can find other guys to do odd jobs around here and you know that. So, let me ask again, do you really want to force my hand? It’s not like your pockets are overflowing, boy.”

Joshua refused to back down. “If you could’ve replaced me, you would’ve done it years ago. We both know you can get cheaper help, but at least my repairs actually last.”

To my surprise, Gerry laughed. “One of these days I’ll get rid of you,” he muttered. “But if you want to find out more, I suggest you talk to Art.”

“Who’s Art?” I asked, leaning forward as I adjusted myself in the uncomfortable seat beneath me.

Gerry’s attention settled on me. “Better question, who are you?”

I tightened my lips but reminded myself that I didn’t have to lie. “I’m a friend of Lorraine’s. I’m trying to make sure she’s protected.”

Gerry let out a laugh at that. “Trust me, that old bat only cares about herself. You can take that to the bank.”

Take it to what? A bank was where you put money. I knew that from my interior language translator, but why had Gerry turned the conversation toward money? None of it had changed hands, and—

“Art is the local doctor here,” said Joshua, derailing my wild train of thought. “And because he’s the only doctor, he’s also the coroner. I’m pretty sure he’s not able to share any details about the case, though. Professional ethics and all that.”

Gerry shrugged. “Ha. Maybe he’s not supposed to. You get a few drinks in him, though, and he’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

“Art has a drinking problem?”

What’s a drinking problem? I’d need to ask Joshua and the others to stop using so many colloquialisms and slang expressions so that I could better follow the conversations.

“Not a problem, per se. He just doesn’t know how to shut up. He’ll also tell you all about Hopkins’s diabetes and old Jenkins’s heart attack. A whole litany of things you never wanted to know. Y’all have fun with those conversations. Because despite your suspicions, this doesn’t concern me.”

Well, that seemed like a reasonable course of action. As much as I’d instantly detested Gerry, I also didn’t believe he was to blame for the death at Fox’s End.

At least he’d been willing to talk, though. That meant we had somewhere to go after this. Which was great, considering how little I knew about this world.

Joshua didn’t seem to view our conversation as a success though. “It will be at least a few hours before Art even starts an autopsy,” he groaned, running both hands through his hair.

Gerry just smiled. “Well then. It sounds like I’ll get some peace from you for at least the rest of the day. Now if you’re done, you can see yourself out.”