She excused herself and returned to her table.
I kept my tongue in check until she was out of earshot. “Sandy, I swear, I’m going to roast me some goat. I need to have a little chat with the Greyhoof boys.” I pulled out my phone and brought up the picture of the painting. “I first thought Ralph was trying to gather some of my hair to put a hex on the Bewitching Bedlam, and now I think I’m right. I don’t know how this woman fits into the picture—no pun intended. Maybe she’s a vampire who used to be a witch?”
“That would be bad. I wonder. But how are Aegis and Ralph connected? It’s not like they’re best buddies. They barely talk.”
“I don’t know, but there has to be some link.” I shoved the phone back in my pocket and let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s focus on lunch. I really don’t want an ulcer, and that’s all I’m going to get if I talk any more about this while we’re eating.”
“Sure.” Sandy held up her mug of tea. “Here’s to old friends and good food. With everything else going on in the world, we need all the support we can get.”
“Heaven’s truth to that,” I murmured, saluting her back as we settled into other topics.
AFTER LUNCH, WE stopped in at the Calou Bakery. I had phoned in an order for three loaves of Witches’ Bread, and had received a text that they were ready. The Calou was owned by a local hearth witch named Glenna, who supplied most of the wedding cakes and birthday cakes in town. She was a natural born baker, and the magic she wove into her food was apparent from the first bite.
As we entered the shop, a bright, warm little bakery with three tables and two benches for customers who were waiting their turn, I took a number. We were headed over to one of the side benches when I froze. Ralph Greyhoof was sitting there, blowing a gum bubble almost as big as his head.
When he saw me, Ralph swallowed what must have been a monster wad and stumbled to his feet—hooves, clearing his throat.
“Maddy. Hey.” He shifted his gaze as I loomed over him, cutting off any chance of a retreat he might have without going right through me.
I held out my phone, bringing up the picture. “Is this the woman you were talking about?”
He straightened his shoulders, which told me I was right on the money.
“Yeah…um… Where did you get that?”
“None of your business. You sure you don’t remember her name?”
He shook his head, slowly. A lie and I knew it.
“You’re lying. You damned well do remember her name. Give it to me now. Somebody’s trying to mess with me and I want to know who and why. And you’re involved, you mangy satyr. First you show up in my bathroom, sneaking around trying to steal my hair. Then I hear you and your brothers are trying to ruin my business before I even manage to open the doors. What the fuck are you up to, Ralph?” I wasn’t known for having an even temper, and Ralph’s eyes widened as he pushed himself back against the wall.
“Take it easy, Maddy—”
“I’ll take it easy all over your furry ass, you idiot. Tell me what the hell’s going on!”
Ralph’s musky scent flared as he narrowed his eyes. He lurched to his feet.
“If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the fire. And if you can’t handle competition, stay out of the bed-and-breakfast business. The Heart’s Desire has been around for three decades and now you barge in, determined to yank our clients away from us. Who the hell do you think you are?” His nose was pinched and his face was getting red.
I gave him a withering stare. “Are you serious? I’m not after your clientele. I’m not running a whorehouse at the Bewitching Bedlam. Your ‘clients’ are horny hardups. My B&B is out for the tourists—not sex-starved satyr-fets.”
“Maddy, calm down—Glenna is coming out from the back.” Sandy tugged on my sleeve.
I froze. Sandy was right. This wasn’t the right place to start an altercation. Turning away, I intended to apologize to Glenna when Ralph shoved me from behind. I lurched forward, into the crowd who had been staring at us. One of the men kindly caught me before I fell but not before Ralph stomped forward, his eyes blazing.
“You shut your mouth, Maudlin Gallowglass, or I’ll shut it for you. I swear, I’ll make sure your business goes under and you with it!” He was raving now, his arms flailing wildly as he did his best impression of a windmill gone amok.
“Break it up.”
I knew who it was, before I even turned around. Sure enough, Derek Lindsey broke through the crowd. A member of the Majestic Mountain Squad—a league of search-and-rescue witches who specialized in healing on the island of Bedlam—he was also one of the senior officers in Bedlam’s sheriff’s department.
Derek turned to Ralph. “Did you just threaten Maudlin?”
Ralph sputtered, but instantly deflated, backing away. “It’s all talk. Just a friendly little spat between competitors.”
“That’s not what it sounded like to me,” Derek said. “Ralph, get out. You come back later and I don’t want to hear another peep out of you. You already got on the sheriff’s bad side with that last bender you went on. You’ll be cooling it off in a cell if she catches word that you’ve been raising hell again.”
Ralph muttered something unintelligible, but grabbed his jacket and stomped out of the bakery.
I stepped delicately to the side. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Lindsey.”
“Just watch out. The Greyhoofs have been in and out of trouble for years. They’re not the calmest heads in town.” With that, he tipped his hat and took his place in line again.
Sandy let out a soft breath beside me. “Maddy, you should be careful. I don’t trust Ralph and his brothers. They’re always up to no good.”
“I don’t know. I think they’re more bluster than brawn, to be honest. But I’ll be careful. I promise.” But something told me that Ralph and his brothers weren’t going to let this drop.
Chapter 4
AFTER DROPPING OFF Sandy at her car, I headed for my last stop before going home.
Bjorn Kitsa, a fox shifter—also known as a kitsune—was my real estate agent and friend. He was flamboyant, gay, and fabulous. Bjorn wore designer suits to tennis matches, he drove a Jaguar, but beneath that snobby, elitist exterior, he had a heart of gold. He worked with the local food bank, was on the board of a nonprofit children’s cancer society, and had personally paid off four mortgages belonging to aging widows who would otherwise have been thrown out of their homes. The latter was only known to a few of us, and he had pledged us to secrecy.
Bjorn was six-two, lean and fit, and he had a shocking head of red hair that tumbled to mid-back. He had his father’s striking green eyes, and his mother’s porcelain complexion. His mother had been Norwegian, his father was Irish. He wore both heritages with pride.
“Maddy, love. What’s up?” he asked as I peeked into his office. He owned the Bedlam Realty office and was determined that every customer who walked through the door would be treated with respect and leave satisfied, even if he determined he couldn’t help them. To that end, Bjorn had endeared himself to other real estate agents around the area and they sent a surprising amount of business his way.
“I just want to talk over a few of the licensing aspects of owning a B&B—make certain that I have everything filled out correctly. You have some time?”
“For you, I have all the time in the world.” He motioned to the chair opposite his and we dove into business.
An hour later, I slid into my car, ready to head home. But all the way, I had the strange feeling I was being followed. I glanced in my rear mirror several times, but saw nothing.
As I pulled into my driveway, a call came in from Rose. Surprised to hear from her again so soon, I answered the phone.