A Charming Corpse Page 2

  The back had become sort of a break room for extra things like the dried herbs that hung from a clothesline around the room. There were burners, test tubes, melting pots, strainers, muslin cloths, cauldrons and much more. There was a desk, mini-refrigerator, and a couch that was a good place to rest if I ever needed to. And some days I needed to.

  The sound of the bell over the front door dinged again, putting a little hope in my gut that today was going to be a good sales day.

  “Good morning,” I said and pushed through the door between the storage room and the shop. “Raven.”

  My heart sank.

  “That.” She circled her finger in front of my face. “Isn’t happy I’m here.” She drew her hand to her chest. “I’m hurt.”

  “No. It’s not you.”

  “It’s not you, it’s me?” She winked mocking the break up moniker.

  “Not that I’m not happy to see you, my dear friend.” I hugged her and then took the pink bag she gave me with the Wicked Good logo on the front. “It’s just that business has been a little down and when I heard the bell. . .” My head teetered side-to-side in a you know kinda way.

  “I heard about the…” Her eyes drew over my shoulder and she looked at the brochure before she finished her sentence. “The homeopathic thingy.”

  “You can say it.” I shrugged. “My competition.”

  That’s the thing. There’d been no competition between the businesses in Whispering Falls because all of the shop owners had a special spiritual gift. None of us were alike, then a year or so ago, the Order Of Elders decided that we could move from village to village and open up space for mortal neighborhoods.

  “It does seem to be a first for all of us.” Her black eyes impaled me. “And there’s no way someone could ever be better than you.”

  “You are too kind, but Darla would say that there’s room enough for everyone.” I turned my head towards the right wall and looked at the framed photo of my parents. It was the only photo I had of them. “When I was a little girl, Darla, you know she didn’t let me call her mom.” I laughed at the memory. “Anyways, she and I would pack up her little car and we’d go to the flea market for the day. Whenever I’d see people there selling soaps and other items that could be considered in Darla’s wheelhouse, I’d get mad. That’s when she’d spout out all of her worldly wisdom.”

  “That’s why you are so nice and kind, June Heal. And why I decided to bake you some June’s Gems this morning,” she said matter-of-factly as her chin drew a hard line up and then down.

  “I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather eat for breakfast.” I opened the bag and took one out, taking a big bite.

  “It’s worse than I thought.” Raven’s voice died away.

  “What are you talking about?” I muffled with a full mouth of delicious chocolaty treat that Raven had created with my name since I was addicted to Ding Dongs. I drew my hand back and looked at the half-eaten June’s Gem. “Oh, no.”

  The sudden urge to cry flooded my throat and left a big knot there. I gulped and gulped again, only harder.

  “You saw something in the dough, didn’t you?” I questioned what her spiritual gift had told her.

  Slowly, she lifted her head and down, her jaw set tight.

  “I’m not sure what it’s all about, but I got a reading that you needed some stress relief and in our history, I knew the only thing you liked when you were stressed were Ding Dongs.” She sucked in a deep sigh. “Want to talk?”

  “Like I said, business has been down, but I attributed it to winter, but now my gut tells me that my customers have found a new homeopathic shop.” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t even say it’s a shop.” I stuffed the rest of the June’s Gem in my mouth.

  “From what I understand, it’s more like one of those mortal parties where people host them at their houses.” She picked up a blue bottle with gold flecks off of one of the display tables. She lifted the cork lid and took a smell. “Nothing like what you have here.” She carefully put the bottle back on the table.

  “It’s a mortal doing the cures?” I asked. She nodded. “She’s a modern day Darla.” I smiled remembering how Darla would work for hours in her little work shed in the back yard of our Locust Grove house.

  She’d spend so much time out there trying to read the Magical Cures Book that she set more stuff on fire than actually making cures. Then again, she wasn’t a spiritualist, so the Magical Cures Book did her no good.

  “Maybe it’s a fad.” The heels of my shoes clicked on my way over to the door to turn the sign to open. “I’ve got to pay the bills somehow. You didn’t see anything else in the dough?”

  “I just saw potion bottles and felt sadness. Naturally, I thought of you.” She walked over to the door and stopped next to me. “If you need a friend, I’m always here.”

  “Nah,” I waved her off and put on a smile. “I’m fine.”

  I’m always fine, I thought and shut the door after her.

  Chapter Three

  The afternoon dragged on. There were a few people who I couldn’t even call customers. They were either looking for directions to a different shop or had gotten lost on their way to another town.

  Meow.

  Mr. Prince Charming jumped up on the counter and dragged his tail underneath my nose. The little tickle gave me a jolt to my afternoon slumber.

  Meow, meow. He continued to badger me.

  “What’s going on with you?” I asked and popped up. “It’s three o’clock.”

  I glanced around my empty shop and realized if there weren’t any customers by now, there probably wouldn’t be in the next couple of hours. Mr. Prince Charming knew exactly what I was thinking. He jumped off the counter and scurried over to the door. I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder. I took out another June’s Gem from the Wicked Good pouch before shoving it into my bag.

  “I better eat this just in case I feel a little stress.” I glanced at Mr. Prince Charming and took a big bite, letting the gooeyness settle in my soul. Before I knew it, the entire thing was gone. I flipped my cauldron off and the lights, along with the sign to CLOSED, locking the door behind me.

  “Let’s get out of here and see exactly what this stuff is all about,” I told Mr. Prince Charming.

  He darted way ahead of me. His tail swayed up in the air, stopping briefly for people on the street to try to pat him before he teased them by running away as their hand came down to give him a pat.

  Crazy Crafty Chick was a fairly new shop I’d only been in a handful of times. Mr. Prince Charming found the baskets of yarn on the front porch of the blue-colored cottage shop very comfortable for his late afternoon naps. Leah, the owner, acted as though it didn’t bother her, but I thought it to be rude.

  She stood at the white fence that was around the shop, letting in customers through the wrought-iron gate as they came in one by one. While I stood waiting in line, I ran my hand over the ornamental gate that had images of thread, needles, glass beads and pottery tools. Every shop had an ornamental gate that represented what their shop was about.

  “June, I’m. . .” Leah’s lips curled in, her eyes narrowed. She appeared to be fighting to find words.

  “Surprised to see me?” I asked.

  Her silence spoke volumes.

  “Why? I don’t just shop for sweet treats at Wicked Good. I get some from The Gathering Grove and sometimes I buy Mr. Prince Charming’s cat food at the Piggly Wiggly in Locust Grove, not just Glorybee,” I said, hoping to ease her tension.

  “You know how it is. I’m new and when Gabby asked me if she could host her line of products here, I didn’t realize she’d be posting flyers all over Whispering Falls.” Leah pushed back her long brown hair over her shoulder and offered a sympathetic smile.

  “Really,” I assured her in my best lie. “I’m here as a customer.”

  “Welcome,” she said in her sweet southern voice, pushing the gate open for me to walk down the little front walk and up the steps to her shop�
��s cute front porch.

  Gabby Summerfield, or who I assumed was Gabby that Leah had mentioned outside, was greeting everyone at the door with a small knitted bag. There was a note attached to it.

  “Hi, there. I’m Gabby Summerfied. I’m the local representative for Lifestyle. I’m so glad you came. Where or who did you hear about the event from?” Her head tilted to the side. She had black hair that was cut short up the back and a little longer on the sides. She had long bangs on the left side and thick eyebrows.

  “I was at The Gathering Grove this morning and saw your flyer on the counter.” I tapped into my gut intuition and got nothing.

  “Here is a little gift for coming.” She handed me the pouch. “Leah spent a week teaching me how to make these little pouches. I’m so glad that’s over because I’m not crafty at all.” She giggled and moved on to the next person.

  Once inside, I looked around the craft shop. I’d done a couple of ceramic things over the holidays with a girls’ night out deal, but never really looked around. There was a deep-set envy in my soul as I noticed all the customers in the shop. It wasn’t long ago that I remembered A Charming Cure was hopping like this.

  I hurried over to the wall of yarn so no one would see me upset. There were spools and rows of yarn that were hanging like rolls of paper towels. It was an interesting display that worked well for yarn. Leah had them arranged by color. As I ran my hand along the tops of them, I never realized there were different textures of yarn.

  “Girls,” I heard a familiar voice behind me. “Gerald told me that June. . .”

  I turned around and my eyes met Petunia Shurbwood’s eyes.

  “June,” her voice rose an octave. “I was just saying that Gerald saw you this morning.”

  “You were. I heard.” I tapped my ear knowing that she was going to say more than just that until she saw me.

  She was standing amongst people I called my friends. Amethyst Plum, Bella Vanlow, Isadora Solstice, and Ophelia Biblio. They all appeared to be shocked to see me as they all either looked down at their feet or in other directions.

  “What’s going on here? I suddenly feel like an outsider.” I tried to make eye contact with them.

  “Oh, June,” Petunia whined. “We love you.”

  “Yes. We all love you.” Ophelia reached out to touch my arm.

  “And we would never want to hurt our friend’s feelings.” Bella pinched a smile. Her eyes were soft.

  “I told them there was no good in coming from this. As the oldest member of our village, I discouraged this. But no.” Isadora, Izzy for short, wagged her long finger in the air. She mocked, “We’ll just go to see what Lifestyle is all about.”

  “I agreed with Izzy. I told them that you were the real deal and this stuff definitely couldn’t be. Look at the price.” Amethyst Plum, owner of Fullmoon Tree Resort, and one of my biggest clients for a lavender sleep spray she pumped into her guests’ bedrooms at night so they got a great night’s sleep and would be sure to return, held a bottle of sleep spray up in my face. “Five dollars. Come on, it can’t be real. Your stuff is twice this price.”

  There was a slight warm feeling against my side where my bag rested. It was a sure sign that my crystal ball, Madame Torres, had woken for the day and was ready to give me any insight on what was going on in the spiritual world.

  “Then why is everyone here?” I asked and turned around to notice every shop owner in Whispering Falls had walked into the Crazy Crafty Chick shop “And, I had no clue about it until today?” I asked.

  “Wait.” I hit my intuition and I knew I was right on the mark. Especially when I notice Faith Mortimer, the editor-in-chief of the spiritual newspaper taking camera shots of all the products. “Did this announcement go into the Whispering Falls Gazette and Faith Mortimer conveniently leave me out of it?”

  “Ummm. . .well. . .” Petunia’s eyes dipped. “I told Gerald to take those flyers off his counter,” she spat like it was Gerald’s fault I found out.

  “Listen, I was going to find out one way or another. I really appreciate your friendship and I do understand why you’ve been trying so hard to keep it from me, but I’m not sure why.” I made a point to look at them. “She isn’t a spiritualist and I’m sure she’s just passing through like most of those home parties the mortals do. Now that it’s getting warmer, I’m sure business will pick up and Whispering Falls will once again be thriving.” I put my hand on my bag as the warming sensation got hot. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m going to go look around.”

  My back was met with hushed whispers as I walked by people I knew. There was no way of getting around the gossip that was just plain untrue. I wasn’t mad. What I was feeling was hurt that my friends didn’t come to me and tell me about this new line of products that could potentially hurt my business. If I was being totally honest, I’m sure it’s what hurt my business. I’ve weathered many storms before, One of the biggest was learning that after eighteen years I was, as the mortals would refer to me, a witch,. Now, that was a storm that took some life-altering changes. This shall pass, as Darla would say.

  “I can’t believe you,” I heard someone whisper as I turned into another room so I could see exactly what Madame Torres was wanting so urgent from my bag. “You are a crook and I’m not going to let you get away with it. So you’re going to have to kill me to keep my mouth shut.”

  There was a loud slam, a crash, and when I turned the corner, Gabby Summerfield’s face was flush red with anger as she stood at the back door of the shop. Alone.

  “Gabby,” I reached out and it brought her out of the rage.

  Her face softened and her lips curled up in a smile.

  “Hi,” she trilled as if nothing happened.

  “Are you okay?” I asked and peeked out the door. There was no one or nothing there.

  “I’m fine.” Her hands brushed down her shirt. “Why do you ask?” Her shoulders drew back, making her stand up straighter.

  “I thought I heard you yelling at someone and the door slam.” I gestured to the door.

  “Oh, gosh.” She laughed. “I was trying to carry too much and dropped a bottle. I was fussing at myself.” She crunched up her nose and pulled her shoulders to her ears. She bent down and picked up the broken glass and used a napkin to sop up the liquid.

  “I’ll see you in the other room.” She threw the wet napkin into the garbage can.

  “I’ll be right there,” I said, knowing she’d just lied to me. But why would she care? “I need to make a phone call.”

  That satisfied her because she threw the last bits of broken glass in the garbage can and went back into the front of the shop, leaving me there to pull out Madame Torres.

  “Hello, June Heal.” Madame Torres’s green eyes stood out around her red medusa hair that flowed inside the glass globe. The water around her illuminated with yellow, red, orange, and purple lines. “There is danger lurking here.” Her eyes were gaunt and darted back and forth like she was looking outside of the ball’s edges. “There’s no good reason for you to be here,” she spoke, her lips were rosy red, and her skin was pale. “You should leave. Immediately!” Her voice was demanding and shrill as the water swirled orange, pink and a violent shade of red before she went dark.

  “Madame Torres.” I shook her. “You can’t just leave it like this.” I shook her harder.

  Mewl. Mr. Prince Charming trotted into the back room and dropped something at my feet.

  My heart sank. The room began to spin as my eyes focused on what he’d laid at my feet. My mouth dried. I licked my lips as the aura of colors took over my peripheral vision, leaving me with a tunnel of light on the charm.

  “I see our little friend has given you his present.” Bella Von Low brought me out of my trance. She bent down, her long blonde hair swept over her shoulder, grazing the floor as she swooped up to stand then outstretched her arm with the charm nestled in the cup of her palm. “Oh, the Eye of the Fatima. Protection and to trust in your intuition.”


  I focused on her palm, not wanting to take yet another charm from my fairy-god cat. The

  first time I’d met Mr. Prince Charming was on my tenth birthday. Darla didn’t have a lot of money. Though she didn’t get me any sort of present, she did get me a cake from the Piggly Wiggly she’d gotten on sale because it read Happy Retirement Stu. Apparently, Stu didn’t get his cake and Darla didn’t even bother scraping Stu’s message off.

  It was a treat because Darla never let me eat any type of sweets except on my birthday and I attribute my crazy addiction to Ding Dongs to the fact I was deprived.

  On that day, a little white stray cat had popped up on the steps of our front porch. He was the brightest of white I’d ever seen. He had on a faded collar with a tiny turtle charm dangling from it. The turtle was missing one of the green emerald stones for an eye, but it was beautiful.

  Oscar and I asked around to see if the cat belonged to anyone, even making posters out of the Piggly Wiggly brown grocery bags, but no one claimed him. When he continued to hang around, I decided to keep him. Darla didn’t mind as long as she didn’t have to buy food for him. I got him a new collar for cheap at the flea market and kept the turtle charm for myself. Oscar had given me his mom’s old bracelet and I hung it from there.

  Little did I know that Mr. Prince Charming was sent by the village to keep watch over me until I turned eighteen years old so they could see if I was a spiritualist like my father. If I was, then they’d invite me to live in Whispering Falls and by the outcome, you can see that I took them up on their offer.

  It wasn’t until I moved to Whispering Falls that I felt like I belonged to a community. I was surrounded by people who not only knew my parents, but also understood my weird quirks, which happened to be my witch abilities. I’d also discovered Mr. Prince Charming was my fairy-god cat and the way he communicated lurking danger was to bring me charms that had some sort of symbolic meaning.

  “I’m assuming he came to see you today?” I slipped the charm from Bella’s palm and took a look at it.