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Page 18


  Epilogue

  O ut of solidarity, Cate, Crystal, and Dani volunteered to join the Crystal Coast coven when I did. We donned the ceremonial white dresses Ebonee ordered each of us to have handmade and placed the crown of flowers and herbs on our heads.

  “I think this is a bit much,” Cate complained. “I’m much happier playing in the dirt than playing merry maiden of the fields.”

  Unsure of what to do with the extra sash I’d found lying leftover to the side after I’d finished dressing, I tied it around my waist. “Ebonee said it’s tradition whenever the ceremony falls near a solstice. Also, I told y’all you didn’t have to join. I’m the only one who made the deal.”

  Dani shrugged as she buttoned up the back of Crystal’s dress. “I don’t know, I think we all look really nice. Plus, I thought the leader might stop bothering Daddy about wanting more from our family in payment for Marilyn’s treatment if I joined, too.”

  It had taken the doctor a couple of weeks to wean the poor woman off the effects of the crystal ball due to her already declined health. My destruction of the object and cutting off the source of the connection might have helped, but I gave the professional all the credit. Whatever Ebonee had paid for her services, it was worth it to give Marilyn some peace for the little time she had left.

  Jackson’s trial loomed in the future, but we all hoped the judge would take the situation with his wife into consideration and how desperate it made him. He’d spend what little time he had left in jail, but maybe they’d put him in one that Marilyn could visit as long as she could. Even though the right person had been caught, none of us would be celebrating solving Croy Miller’s murder.

  The four of us waited for Ebonee to call our names before entering the sacred circle of initiation. I whistled low to get my cousin’s attention. “Hey, Dani.” Lifting up the skirt of my dress, I showed off my cowboy boots underneath. “As long as we remain true to ourselves, she’ll never get one over on us Jewells.”

  * * *

  I ran into the deputy sheriff on our property a couple of weeks later. It drew me up short to see him standing in line at the food truck with a shorter and younger version of him holding his hand. The only thing missing on his mini-me was a mustache.

  “Deputy Caine, what a pleasant surprise.” I crouched down to address his partner. “And who are you?”

  “I’m Michael, but you can call me Mikey,” the little boy declared, sticking his hand out to shake. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Likewise, sir.” I tipped my straw cowboy hat out of respect. “My name’s Ruby Mae, but you can call me Rue.”

  Buddy trotted over and rubbed his black and white head under the boy’s hand to earn rubs. Mikey squealed with glee. “Daddy, look. The kitty’s got a ‘stache just like you.”

  Deputy Caine’s own ‘stache twitched in indecision between being stern with me and coddling his kid. “That’s nice, Michael. Why don’t you go sit down over there on that stump so you can eat your hot dog without getting it all over everyone else.”

  The son imitated the intent stare of his father. “Did you put mustard and relish on it with the ketchup?”

  “Boy, I know how you take your dog. Just ketchup. None of the other icky stuff.” The deputy handed the boy the dog in the little paper container. “Walk, don’t run,” he called out after his son. Left alone with me, he shuffled from foot to foot, not knowing what to say in the strange situation we found ourselves in.

  “He’s gonna grow up to look just like you,” I observed.

  Deputy Caine exhaled an astonished breath. “Dear goodness, I hope not. His mother’s far better looking.”

  “Did you come here today for anything in particular?” I asked, curious to know why he’d chosen to return when he clearly didn’t like us.

  He frowned like I expected him to. “Your father said there might be some things he might like here, and since I didn’t have him on his actual birthday, I thought we could shop together.”

  The fragment he was willing to share with me helped me gain just a little better understanding of the man and his ambitions. “If you want, I can help you look. That would be after you clean him up.” I pointed at the little boy, who now sported a great big ketchup stain down the front of his shirt. He was holding the second half of his hot dog out in front of him for Slobby Bobby to devour.

  “Hey, Michael, come on, little dude. If you keep this up, you’re gonna run out of clean shirts while you’re with me.” The deputy shooed the dog away and picked up his kid. With a point in the right direction from me, he headed to the bathrooms.

  I didn’t see either of them again until they emerged from the main barn with Mikey carrying a bag almost as large as him, maneuvering so his dad couldn’t take it from him.

  “Looks like you found some stuff to take home with you.” I tipped my hat again at the son. “I hope you’ll come back some time.”

  Mikey caught sight of Buddy rolling on the ground giving himself a dirt bath. “I will if Daddy brings me. You’ve got dogs and cats to play with.” He dropped his bag and took off to pet the kitty.

  Deputy Caine picked up after his son and I offered to buy him an iced tea or lemonade to go. Instead of a simple yes or no thank you, he scowled. “Listen, you actually do have some good stuff here, and I’m glad things worked out today. But don’t go thinking we’re gonna be friends or something after this.” He kept a watchful eye on his son while he placed his sunglasses back on. “I still think something ain’t right around here, and at some point, I’m going to figure it out.”

  “Well, if it means we can make him smile like that, then you come on back.” I took off my shades to shoot him a challenging gaze. “Anytime.”

  My sass caused one last twitch of the mustache, and he stomped off, scooping up Mikey under his arm. The little boy waved at me and wiggled in his father’s arms as he left.

  I patrolled around the buildings on our land, keeping an eye out for anyone still trying to be a little too nosy. With things calming down in our lives, it gave me time to think everything through. Deputy Caine wasn’t completely wrong. Something was indeed a little off.

  Maybe it was the lingering impact of the taste of Luke’s blood that sharpened my ability to think. Or maybe with everything I’d gone through, I had a fresh perspective on what had happened. It didn’t escape my notice that the prediction Myrna had given me in the very beginning had come true. Mayhem had visited and wreaked a whole heck of a lotta havoc on us. My pride did almost hurt those whom I held dearest in my life. And I drained almost all of my magic fighting to destroy the powerful entity inside the crystal ball.

  Did everything happen the way it did because I was told that it would? Or were my decisions my own? I vacillated back and forth between the two choices of fate or free will. However, one thing I definitely learned and would stand by until my dying breath was that Granny Jo was right. Predictions and prophecies weren’t worth spit. Better to live through things and learn than to skip it all and try to jump to the end.

  Still, I recalled the many images I’d been shown. Only time would tell how they would manifest in my life. And a couple of crucial questions lingered in the back of my mind. If this all started when Myrna found the ball in a box on her front porch, then who had given it to her in the first place? And more importantly, why?

  With the destruction of the crystal ball and only my fiery wit to rely on, it would be up to me, my family and friends, and time to solve that mystery.

  * * *

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  Southern Relics Cozy Mysteries

  A little sweet tea and a whole lot of spells won’t always put out the fire…

  Flea Market Magic

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  Suggested reading order:

  Chess Pie & Choices: Prequel

  Moonshine & Magic: Book 1

  Lemonade & Love Potions: A Cozy Short

  Fried Chicken & Fangs: Book 2

  Sweet Tea & Spells: Book 3

  Barbecue & Brooms: Book 4

  Collards & Cauldrons: Book 5

  Cornbread & Crossroads: Book 6 (Coming Soon)

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  About the Author

  Bella Falls grew up on the magic of sweet tea, barbecue, and hot and humid Southern days. She met her husband at college over an argument of how to properly pronounce the word pecan (for the record, it should be pea-cawn, and they taste amazing in a pie). Although she’s had the privilege of living all over the States and the world, her heart still beats to the rhythm of the cicadas on a hot summer’s evening.

  Now, she’s taken her love of the South and woven it into a world where magic and mystery aren’t the only Charms.

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