Chapter 8

EIGHT

The first thing I did the next day was play the audiobook for Bagley . Mostly because I needed to get that over with before Brimstone came for his morning shift. I had saboteur suspects to catch and paranormal business owners to convince to vote for Dru , which meant I might have to leave the shop for long amounts of time, and I wouldn’t leave Bagley unsupervised in the open for that long.

I was hopeful of her eventual conversion into a good witch, but I wasn’t reckless.

“ No eating the ivy, Fluffy ,” I reminded her as I let her and Rufus out to roam free in the backyard. I pointed at Rufus . “ You better make sure she doesn’t eat the evil witch’s vampire plants, young man.”

Rufus let out a low woof, which I took to mean he was on it.

“ Good boy.”

I closed the door and got the shop ready for opening. Brimstone arrived at nine on the dot, and I would’ve asked him about his video log except that Dru arrived right behind him. The excitement in her expression was all I needed to know she’d found something.

An answering wave of eagerness filled me as I all but dragged her into the back.

“ What did you find?” I asked as soon as we were in the kitchen and out of hearing from Brimstone . “ Do you know who put the curse on Olmeda ?”

She put a hand up. “ Coffee first, goodies after.”

“ On it,” I exclaimed, running back into the shop and preparing Dru’s favorite type of coffee: dark like the bottomless pit of her gossip knowledge.

Once she took a few sips and hummed in satisfaction, she deigned to put me out of my misery.

“ We’re visiting someone who might know about all the curse stuff.”

My mouth drooped slightly. “ That’s it?”

“ It’s more than you have, isn’t it?”

Fair enough. “ It is.”

I heard the tinkling of the front door. We didn’t usually have customers right at opening time unless they were paranormals looking for a potion, so I leaned back to peek outside the kitchen and into the shop.

Brimstone’s deep, ominous voice reverberated through the building: “ Hope Avery . You have a visitor.”

A clap of thunder underscored the words.

He really should’ve gone into theater.

Dru arched her brows. “ Who is it?”

“ I don’t know.” I wasn’t expecting anyone.

We returned to the shop to find a short, thin man standing by the counter. He looked to be in his midthirties with thinning hair, a small mustache, and the biggest grin this side of me after talking with Ian on the phone.

Brimstone pointed at him. “ Visitor .”

Dru immediately sat on one of the stools to enjoy the show while finishing her coffee.

“ Thank you, Jeremy ,” I said, sparing him with a pointed where are your manners look. I offered my hand to the newcomer. “ Hello , I’m Hope Avery . How can I help you?”

“ Wonderful ,” the man exclaimed, taking my hand with both of his and shaking vigorously. His grasp was warm and thankfully sweat-free. “ I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m Norman . Norman Moore . I’m the new owner of the Corner Rose .”

Dru choked on her coffee and began coughing. I fixed a welcoming smile on my face and slapped her on the back. “ That’s , ah, great. I’m glad we’re finally meeting.”

“ Yes !” The sudden energy contained in the word made me jump and Dru stop coughing. “ I’m sorry it’s taken this long—completely my fault. With one thing and the other, it never seemed like the right moment. But today I woke up and looked outside the window at such a lovely November day and knew it was time to introduce myself.”

“ I’m glad you did,” I said honestly. How could I not in the face of so much morning enthusiasm? “ I’ve been curious about what you’ve done with the place.”

His eyes widened with delight. “ Oh , my. Really ? What about going now? I would love to give you a tour! It’s not quite ready for the opening, but I already got some of the items ready for?—”

Dru jumped off the stool and stood by my side, arms crossed over her turtleneck sweater. “ I’m with her.”

I took that to mean she wanted to visit the gallery too. “ We would love to take a quick tour of the gallery.”

“ That’s good. No time like the present, eh?”

Dru was already striding toward the door.

No time like the present, apparently. “ Sounds perfect.”

A minute later, Norman was ushering us inside the Corner Rose . The profound transformation of the interior gobsmacked me. Nothing remained of the gloomy, dusty atmosphere of Mr . Lewis’s antiques and collectibles shop. The shelves had disappeared, the old glass counter was gone, the heavy pieces of furniture gone into the ether of the bank’s auction. Two new walls now sectioned the big space into three corridors, meant to feature paintings and the odd object on display on pedestals. Modern light fixtures provided highlights on the items, but I doubted he’d need those once they took the covers off the windows, because the room was painted in a blinding white that would have no trouble reflecting the outside’s natural light.

“ What do you think?” Norman asked, pride infusing his words.

“ It’s …different,” I said, still trying to process the changes. “ Very airy.”

“ Yes .” He nodded with approval. “ I’ve never been a fan of dark spaces. They bring a kind of gloom and doom to the mood, and when looking at art, once must always have a neutral disposition.”

“ I see.”

Dru nudged my side, then took a step toward a painting already on display. I followed, examining the piece of art. It was a medium-sized canvas featuring a woman in a beautiful early Victorian dress posing in front of a fireplace. A simple clock sat on the mantel, and a merry fire burned in the hearth. I had expected something more modern, although there was something about the painting that didn’t feel completely period. The woman’s expression was strained in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.

Then I noticed the flames.

The human-body-shaped flames with screaming open mouths that seemed to writhe in agony in their efforts to escape up the chute.

“ It’s a Sarah Lyons ,” Norman said. “ I love her work. It’s so lovely, don’t you think?”

I swallowed, tearing my attention away from the bizarre flames. I had the sudden urge to get on Bee - Bee and put a couple of cities between me and that painted fireplace. “ Uh , yes.” My gaze fell on an antique secretary desk on the opposite wall. It was made of polished dark cherry wood with a motif of roses carved into the edges and the tiny rows of drawers. This one was definitely period authentic. “ Oh , what’s that?”

“ Ah , this is a piece I found not long ago. Not the usual thing you see in an art gallery, but I believe there’s an artistry to be found in carpentry that rivals the most beautiful of paintings. Art expands beyond canvas and sculpture, don’t you agree?”

As a proud owner of a coffee shop, I completely agreed. “ Indeed .” I approached the desk to get a better look, but one step in and a strange feeling of unease flooded me. Unease and…dread. I studied the piece of furniture from where I stood. Were those blood splotches on the front of the drawers, or was it a trick of the overhead lights?

Sweating a little, I searched the mostly empty space for something else to compliment. A metal necklace rested around the neck of a plaster bust, the five chains knotting around each other in a way that twisted my stomach while the dangling locket screamed there is a screeching soul trapped inside and it’ll drag you to hell along with it if you dare open me .

“ We’re late for the thing, Hope ,” Dru said in a strained tone.

I swallowed hard. “ Yes . The thing.”

“ Oh , I see.” Norman sounded so wholeheartedly disappointed, I latched myself on that and managed to give him a halfway genuine smile.

“ I hope you can open soon. I can’t, ah, wait to see the full collection.”

His expression brightened. “ I’ll make sure to send you both an invitation to the opening.”

“ Thank you,” I said.

Dru didn’t say anything. She simply turned toward the entrance, and I hurried to follow, giving Norman a last goodbye wave before the door closed behind us.

“ Jesus ,” Dru said, shuddering. “ Did you feel that?”

I rubbed my arms. “ The bad vibes were pretty overwhelming. That fireplace…brr.”

“ How can he not feel them?”

“ Maybe it’s a paranormal thing?”

“ Maybe .” She didn’t sound convinced, and perhaps she had a point. How could anyone, human or paranormal, not notice the aura of wrongness emanating from those pieces? If the rest of the art followed in those steps, I was going to have to put wards on the wall of the Tea Cauldron in case the bad auras attempted a takeover.

“ Maybe we’re predisposed to find fault because it’s not your shop?”

“ Nope . Those were some bad vibes. We should check the basement for dead mothers.” She stared at the front of the Tea Cauldron thoughtfully. “ You know, I’m glad your shop is between mine and that.”

“ Because I can defend you with my magic?”

“ Because I will hear your screams when you get dragged into whatever vortex of evil all those things are going to create, and I’ll know to run.”

“ Anything for a friend.”

“ That’s the spirit. Now , let’s go visit April .”

“ April ? Desmond Cane’s assistant?”

“ The source of every juicy piece of gossip in Olmeda .”