Flea Market Magic (Southern Relics Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  “Ms. Myrna, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I raised my hands in front of me, unsure of how to get her attention and stop the proceedings.

  The color in her face drained, and she drew in a gasping breath. When she spoke, her voice wavered in an inhuman tone. “A Jewell by birth, a precious gem. Be wary of the coming mayhem. Heed my warning, heed my call. Pride will come before your fall. Beware the secrets that within you burn or from bad to worse your world will turn. To keep those you love from any harm, you’ll have to use up all your charm .”

  With a sputtering cough, she stopped speaking, and her eyes fluttered open. Taking a sip from a water bottle she fetched from under the table, she licked her lips and looked at me with a hopeful expression. “Did it work? Did I tell you something useful?”

  We didn’t have that many powerful psychics in our particular area of the state. Sure, there were a few witches who had some abilities but none that could truly wield a real magical tool like the crystal ball. Other than the occasional tarot reading my girlfriends and I did for fun with each other, the rule of thumb was that prophecies and true fortunes read were usually so cryptic that you could spend a lifetime trying to unravel them and make terrible choices for yourself. Or, as Granny Josephine liked to say, they weren’t worth spit.

  I sat with an open mouth, not knowing exactly how to respond to what I’d just witnessed. Without wasting anymore time, I improvised on the spot to get the object out of her grasp and ownership as quickly as possible. “Of course you did. You settled on the price we’ve agreed upon. Six hundred dollars up front, and then fifty percent of the profit once I sell it to the buyer I have in mind.”

  “What?” Myrna blinked at me in confusion. “You mean, I agreed to sell you the crystal ball?”

  Again, I hated lying to a woman who’d been nothing but nice to me in the past. But the little ruse would ensure her safety. I strongly disliked the gray pallor of her face even after she lifted her hands away from the orb.

  I plastered a reassuring grin on my face. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, seventy percent of the profit once I sell it. And I think that could come in at another six to seven hundred dollars. Maybe even more.” Prepared to pay as much as I needed to, I stuffed my hand in my bag, touching the cash I had on hand.

  “That much, huh?” The woman’s cheeks brightened to a healthier pink with the prospect of immediate money. “I guess that’s okay, although I’ve made about half that in the last month or so.”

  Ready to seal the deal and get out of here, I took out my stash of money and counted out the hundred dollar bills. “Here’s one, two, three, four, five, and six. And just to show you my good faith, let’s leave it at a thousand dollars paid now with the balance of what I’ll owe you to be paid once I sell it. Deal?”

  I fanned the green dollars in front of her on the table for her to count for herself. Desire replaced doubt in her gaze. Confident I had won the battle, I offered to shake on the bargain. While she fingered the money with her left hand, she offered me her right one without looking me, and I sealed our agreement with a couple pumps up and down.

  Letting go of her, I reached forward in a rush to pick up the crystal ball. The token seared my skin and I cried out, clutching at my chest. Bobby whimpered beside me.

  My outburst broke Myrna’s distraction with the money. “What’s wrong?”

  In my haste, I’d almost broken the very first rule that had been pounded into my head when dealing with magical items. Never touch the object with my bare hands. Who knew what curses or hexes might be hidden within its very existence. And after what I’d witnessed with mere Myrna using the crystal ball, I didn’t need to give it direct access to me or my powers.

  We Jewells always carried large squares of black fabric meant to temporarily neutralize any lingering power or magic an object possessed. I fished one out of my purse and unfolded it. “It’s just such a precious thing, I want to make sure I protect it while I take it home with me.”

  A tiny bit of power pulsed from inside the glass, and Myrna’s hand flew to her heart. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  “It’ll be fine,” I assured her. Before she could spot the renewed blue glow pulsing again, I threw the black fabric of my neutralizer over the orb, hoping the older lady hadn’t noticed anything strange.

  The second the crystal ball was covered, Myrna leaned back and took a deep breath. “I guess you’re right. And that is a lot of money. I could buy a bunch of stones and candles with it.”

  Making sure not to touch the surface of the glass or the metal stand, I wrapped it all up in the black fabric. “You should. And, if you don’t mind my saying, I think you should rejoin your friends out there. They miss you.”

  Myrna’s cheeks reddened in shame. “I haven’t been that nice too Ethel and Gladys, have I? I’ll definitely have to make it up to them.” She picked up the cash and waved it at me. “Or maybe I’ll take them to Pete’s this upcoming Thursday. I heard it’s ladies night.”

  The protected crystal ball turned out to be too big to fit in my purse. With a regretful sigh, I took out the two mason jars of pickled okra and set them beside the left leg of the table and stuffed the object into the plastic bag to carry out. It was a small price to pay to keep Myrna safe.

  “I’d say they might forgive you if you went to the bar whenever the next male dancing review comes to town,” I teased, standing up to take my leave.

  “Ooh, Ruby Mae, you’re wicked.” Myrna got up to escort me out of her tent. “Although maybe I’ll invite them over to enjoy those Magic Mike movies again. Then we can rewind and watch as many times as we want.”

  “Now who’s the wicked one?” I pulled the velvet curtain aside and breathed in the fresh air again. “I’ll make sure to keep you informed as to the sale and bring you your cut as soon as possible,” I promised.

  “Sounds good.” Myrna shielded her eyes from the sunlight. When she caught her two friends looking at her, she sighed and waddled in their direction. “Thanks, Ruby Mae.”

  I waved at her while she made her way to make amends with her friends. Off in the distance, I spotted her grandson on his way back to the tent. Pulling Bobby along with me, I hurried in the opposite direction.

  My spell phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket. “Uncle Jo, is that you?”

  “We’re all packed up. You ready yet?” his voice asked.

  I glanced behind me and caught Croy in an argument with his grandmother. Ethel and Gladys stood right behind her in support. “Yeah, I’m on the west side at the end of the row, and I’ve got something we need to get out of here right away.”

  “On my way,” my uncle declared.

  Bobby picked up on my anxiety as I kept a watchful eye on Croy and listened for Ol’ Bessie’s noisy arrival. Myrna’s grandson gave up on the fight with his grandmother and rushed into the tent. The dirty white fabric of it shook while the noise of things crashing filled the air. Guilt about the glass jars of pickled okra most likely wasted in his tantrum clenched my gut.

  “Come on, Uncle Jo,” I muttered under my breath. Another conflict would be the last thing we needed today.

  Right when Croy emerged from the tent and turned his attention my way, I heard the rumble of our old truck coming up behind me. My uncle pulled the vehicle to a stop just in time for me to open the door, lift the dog into the front cab, and climb in.

  As I pulled on the handle to shut the door, Myrna’s grandson caught up to me. “Hey! You’re not going anywhere with our property.”

  I stashed the plastic bag with the crystal ball in it on my far side away from him. “You mean, our property. If you talk to your grandmother, you’ll know that I purchased it from her for a fair price.” With a yank, I closed the door with a slam.

  Croy persisted, placing one hand on the frame and reaching in to grip my arm. “I’ll decide what’s fair, and we’re not selling it. Give it back now.”

  “Son, I suggest you let go of my niece and back away for y
our own good,” Uncle Jo warned, revving the engine of the truck.

  His fingers stopped digging into my skin, but he kept his hands on the rolled down window. “I don’t think it’s right, you trying to steal something that don’t belong to you.”

  I held up a finger. “First, if you check with your grandmother, you’ll know that money has been exchanged. We struck a deal, and she’ll end up making more in the long run since I’m guessing you’ve been lying and shortchanging your own kin. Now, it’s time to for you to step away and let us go.”

  Calling on a little bit of my fire power, I touched the back of his hand with the tip of my finger, giving him a little shock of heat.

  “Ow!” He let go and cradled the injured skin. As the truck slowly pulled away, he cried out after us, “You’ll pay for this.”

  Tired of his childish outburst, I snatched the bag from beside me. Leaning my head and my quarry out of the window, I taunted him with my new acquisition. “Already did.”

  When we pulled out onto the highway to head home, Uncle Jo kept shooting me some judgmental side eye.

  “What?” I asked in mock innocence, checking to make sure the neutralizing fabric still covered the crystal ball.

  He sniffed and shook his head slowly back and forth. “One of these days, that hot temper of yours is gonna get you into trouble you can’t get yourself out of.”

  Something about his rebuke reminded me of Myrna’s strange prediction. Needing to wash away the negativity of the day, I pulled out a tape of Johnny’s greatest hits and popped it in the player. While the man in black sang about a ring of fire that burns, burns burns , I did my best not to fall down the hole of figuring out what the possible prophecy meant for me and my future.

  Chapter Four

  U ncle Jo hit the brakes, causing a little of my iced tea to slosh into my lap and a few drops to sprinkle on top of Bobby’s head. The hound glanced up at me, and I pointed at my uncle to place the blame.

  “What, were you trying to avoid a squirrel or something?” I asked, grabbing a napkin out of the glove compartment to wipe myself off.

  “Nope.” He pulled into the left-hand turn lane and waited at the light. “After what you told me happened with Myrna and that crystal ball, I think I’d like to get an assessment sooner rather than later.” When the arrow turned green, he executed a u-turn.

  I blinked at him, confused at the change in plans. “My personal experience isn’t enough? What assessment can be made an hour away from home?”

  He pointed ahead of us. “I figured since we were close, we might as well drop in.”

  Following his finger, I read the worn sign on the side of the road in front of a double-wide trailer. Big black letters spelled out Psychic on white painted wood. As we slowed to turn into the driveway, I read the rest written underneath. “Palm and Tarot Readings. Walk-Ins Welcome.”

  Uncle Jo drove the truck onto the dirt driveway and parked it. “Before you say anything negative, hear me out. If you found an honest to goodness crystal ball, then we need to know. Best to my knowledge, they are few and far between because they’re hard to control and can do some major damage to the user.”

  Myrna’s paled countenance and drained demeanor in her short use kept my sass from rising up. “I get it. But are you sure you want to stop here?”

  Uncle Jo scratched the stubble on his chin. “Jackson and Marilyn are good people. They both possess a little bit of psychic powers, but neither are terribly strong. I figure they could do a quick examination so we know what to do once we get back home.”

  Once I thought about it, I agreed. “It’s a good plan. It’s not like we have a whole lot of witches with psychic abilities we can readily call on.”

  Uncle Jo huffed. “Just the one, and if it’s all the same, I’d rather not open that Pandora’s box by calling the leader of the regional coven if we don’t have to.” He turned off the truck, jumped out of the cab, and whistled for Bobby.

  Grabbing the plastic bag, I hustled out of the truck and slammed the old door shut. The three of us walked up the wobbly brick stairs and stood on the porch with pots of gaudy fake flowers framing the sides.

  The inside door opened quickly after my uncle knocked, and a frail bald-headed man stood in the doorway. “Welcome. We offer readings of all kinds, but we do not communicate with the dearly departed. Please have cash ready as we cannot accept checks or credit cards.”

  “How about a visit from an old friend?” Uncle Jo asked with a raised eyebrow.

  As if seeing through a fog, the man focused on who stood in front of him. “Well, bless my boots. Is that you, Josephus Jewell? How long’s it been? Y’all come in and make yourselves at home. Mary, we got company,” he hollered.

  I followed behind my uncle and the dog into a bright and clean living space. A woman with a purple streak at the front of her silvery gray hair got out of a nearby recliner chair to greet us.

  “Jo, you’re almost as bald as my Jackson now. You must have lost a hair on your head for every day we haven’t seen each other.” She wrapped her arms as far as she could around my uncle’s waist.

  “And yet, you haven’t aged a bit,” he teased, patting her back with gentle care. “Marilyn, I don’t think you’ve ever met my niece, Ruby Mae.”

  The woman swept me up in a warm hug before I could utter any pleasantries. “You must be Buckley and Reva’s daughter. You’ve definitely got a little of both in you, especially with that flaming red hair of your mama’s.” She released me with a smile. “How are they getting along?”

  “You knew my parents when they were together?” The question popped out of my mouth before my brain caught up.

  Uncle Jo scrunched his nose. “My brother’s doing fine, but Ruby Mae’s mom hasn’t been with us for some time now.”

  “When did she pass?” Jackson asked, bringing us two glasses of sweet tea to sip on.

  I clenched my hands into fists and did my best not to let any emotion leak into my words. “She’s not dead. Just gone.”

  Marilyn’s face dropped. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I guess I stepped my foot in it, didn’t I?”

  Swallowing down a little bit of jealousy that she probably knew my mother better than I did, I shook my head. “It’s fine, ma’am.”

  “My friends call my Mary, please. Well, Jackson, I guess what you told Buck all those years ago came true,” declared the lady.

  Her husband handed her a drink. “We’re not keeping score, honey.” His eyes darted my way to emphasize not to talk about such a sensitive topic.

  “If what you told him is that my mom wasn’t the type to settle down anywhere and preferred to be rootless, then you were spot on. But I guess that means we came to the right place.” I held up the plastic bag. “Uncle Jo says you might be able to help us figure out what we’ve got here.”

  “Who? Us?” Jackson’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know what help we can give you, but we’ll do our best. Want to come into our place of business?” He set his glass down and walked through a barrier of multicolored beads that made a kind of galaxy pattern hanging over a doorway.

  Uncle Jo gestured for Marilyn to go before him. As she reached the entrance, she stumbled and caught herself on the door frame. “Whoopsie daisy. No one will ever call me Twinkle Toes.”

  Jackson came back to support his wife. “You okay?”

  She shooed him away. “I’m right as rain. Let’s get in there so these fine people can get on with their day.”

  Once we settled inside the room they must use for their appointments, I set the plastic bag down in the middle of the table. “I came across this while at the flea market near Smooter. One of our friends was using it and charging people, and I’m pretty sure it’s not just a decorative piece.”

  With great care, I pulled out the covered item. Careful not to touch the actual object, I peeled back the black fabric to reveal the glass orb.

  Marilyn gasped and Jackson took a step closer. “My word. Don’t tell me you found this at a flea mar
ket.” He reached a hand out to touch it, but Uncle Jo caught him by the arm.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Based on what my niece told me, laying hands on it seems to make it work,” he warned.

  I shook my head. “No, I think the way I put it was, it seemed to come alive when Ms. Myrna grasped it.”

  “Not Myrna Miller,” exclaimed Marilyn. “Oh, that poor dear. We sometimes exchange healing stones from time to time.”

  Jackson couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and getting as close to the object as he could. “Based on what I’ve heard about these, it would be alive, as you call it, if it touches you. A crystal ball draws on magical power to fuel it. It’s why you don’t see many of these out in the wild anymore. They were basically outlawed due to the bad effects it could have on our kind. I can’t even imagine what it would do in mortal hands.”

  “So, it’s dark magic?” I asked, suddenly wanting to put some distance between me and this thing.

  Marilyn corrected me. “No, not dark necessarily. Just strong and hard to control. But if a regular witch had one, it could make him or her pretty powerful by providing visions of the future. It’s been suggested that some of the more prominent witch lines were in possession of one.”

  Uncle Jo took off his trucker hat and scratched his head. “Whatever effects it can have, we still haven’t settled on whether or not this one is real yet.”

  A tense silence fell over us as we stared at the mysterious item that looked too small and delicate to be dangerous. Bobby whimpered like he needed to go out, and my uncle let go of his leash to allow the hound to leave the room.

  “One of us is going to have to touch it,” Marilyn stated, slapping the table.

  Jackson backed away from the table. “Well, it’s not going to be you,” he declared with almost an angry glare at his wife.