Page 36 of Fresh Old Bounties

It seemed Ian’s reputation had grown among the human side of Olmeda as well as the paranormal one. Lucky, lucky man.

The encounter had scattered my thoughts, so I went to check my suspects’ to-do list and refresh my memory when I noticed I’d received a new text.

Heard you were looking for deliveries.

I frowned at the message and checked the sender. I didn’t recognize the number.

What kind of deliveries? I wrote back, clamping down the immediate knee-jerk reaction of telling whoever it was that no, I made the deliveries.

Mess up once, shame on a passionate nature and the love for one’s Grandma. Mess up twice, time to retake meditation.

After waiting for a few minutes, I cut my losses and went back to the shop. I’d decide who to approach next in a more productive environment than the middle of the street.

The reply arrived when I was halfway home.

The special kind. Willing to lose this one for the correct price.

TEN

Special kind was obviously magic. Anonymous sender meant dark magic. But why would anyone lose a delivery for a price?

The answer smacked me in the face as I opened the Tea Cauldron’s front door.

Whoever this person was must be the dark magic delivery guy I’d been looking for two weeks ago but hadn’t been able to find. They must’ve heard of my interest and now wanted to earn some extra money by offering to lose this new delivery. As the local dark witch, it stood to reason I wouldn’t want out-of-town dark magic dealers reaching potential clients.

Any entrepreneur worth their salt would see this as an excellent opportunity for profit. A local dark magic businessperson helping another dark magic businessperson, for a fee.

The shop was busy, so I didn’t have the chance to tell Dru about my inquiries and the text until much later.

Using a lull between customers, I resumed hanging up the Halloween decorations.

“It’s gotta be the bastard,” Dru said, handing me some more tape to fix an orange-and-black garland to the top of the window. “He probably ordered some kind of potion to poison everyone who’s against him buying the Corner Rose.”

“You might be overthinking things,” I said. I jumped off the windowsill and observed my work. “What do you think?”

“You have to take the offer so we can set up a trap.”

I gestured toward the garland and the other pumpkin and witch silhouettes taped to the window. No spiders for me. I shuddered. Fake webs were as far as I was willing to go. “I mean, about the decorations.”

“Very pretty. Now, answer that text.”

I dragged the box of decorations to the other window. “How do you propose we set up a trap?”

My phone rang, and I checked the caller ID. “Oh, hold on. It’s Crane. I left a message earlier.” I hurried to accept the call. “Hope Avery speaking.”

“Is this—” A female voice cleared her throat. “This is Desmond Crane’s office calling back about a consultation appointment.”

“Yes?” I asked eagerly, glancing at Dru. She was checking her own phone, a miffed expression on her face. I hadn’t shared my hopes about Bagley’s money with her yet, cautious for a change. To give her hope, then take it away if I couldn’t find the account or access it? Now, that was cruelty beyond words.

“We have an opening tomorrow morning.”

“That’d be perfect, thank you.”

“Ten-thirty. There are directions on our webpage.”

Crane’s assistant hung up, and I resumed my decoration work.

“You’re going to work with him?” Dru asked, doubtful.

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