FAMILY MAGIC (THE FLOWER FARM MAGICAL MYSTERY SERIES Book 1) Read online

  "Arie wouldn't have it any other way."

  "Oh, but he would." I handed him the keys to my car. "Just so you know, I'm not going to escape." His eyes softened, and his shoulders rounded.

  I needed to get away from him, or I was going to cry.

  CHAPTER 4

  While I waited, Sampson walked me around the front yard of Raymont Manor. He yanked me towards a lilac bush and then veered to the left to pounce in the middle of an eight-foot in diameter clump of maiden grass. Some nefarious critter chattered at him from amongst the blades. Digging my feet into the mushy bluegrass, I hauled him back to me.

  “Sampson, me boss. You do as I say.” He sat and looked up at me with those sad, dark eyes. The “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again look.” Ten seconds later, that same white rabbit peeked from behind a rock, and Sampson lurched. Wrapping my arm around a tree, I hung on while keeping a solid hold on his leash.

  “Wake up,” I said, pulling my phone from the pocket of my black mercer pants. “Make a note. Puppy school.” The puppy still hadn't figured out I was boss. But I'd only had him a few days. He'd saved my butt, so I'd give him a break on his lack of manners. Poor thing had to be crated on the flight from Tennessee to Indianapolis, sat in the Mercedes while I performed the consult in Indi, remain calm in the hotel last night before we drove the ninety miles north to our current location. I'd been planning to swing by my property in Abracadabra and let Sampson run for a few hours before we left for vacation. Looked like my plans needed tweaking.

  Once Sampson settled down enough that I could hold my phone in my hand, walk, and talk, I decided I might as well do the job I'd been hired to do. Mr. Raymont had paid for a full consultation to determine the Chi of his grounds. I might as well give his estate the product they'd bought. The Weeping Cedar trees lining the driveway needed some serious pruning. They blocked the sun and attacked incoming vehicles creating a depressing, almost crying energy as guests drove towards the house.

  The bayberries on both sides of the steps were now considered invasive, and their prickly nature radiated prickly energy. They appeared diseased. I suggested Mock Orange bushes instead. They produce beautiful blooms and a sweet fragrance. Switching out the dying Rose of Sharon for a Korean Spice Viburnum to mix and mingle with the pines would also create a more welcoming Chi. There were a lot of wood and water elements on the grounds. The stone steps and brick helped to balance the energy.

  “Wake up,” I said to my phone. “Add fire element to list of suggestions.” I’d write my final report when I got wherever I was going for the night. Wonder if I’d have computer access in jail.

  Working and Sampson reduced my raging anxiety from fifteen to fourteen. Maybe even thirteen. I took a minute to reconnect with the investigation around me.

  Someone in a windbreaker had recorded my statement not long after the calvary arrived. Captain Bloom looked very adept at orchestrating the movements of all the people. As I walked, I had heard Arie’s name. I surmised he'd been informed of the situation and was being updated at regular intervals.

  Either Arie hated me more than I thought, or Arie must be somewhere important. My brother was an in-your-face hands-on kind of guy. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity to lecture me. My plan to slip in and out of town without seeing Arie was ruined. Thanks to my serial killer stalker. I didn't know what to call him. He arrived first. So, was I stalking him, or was he stalking me? I wasn't quite sure how that all worked.

  Every so often, I'd catch Captain Bloom looking at me. Probably making sure I didn’t try to make a break for it. But, how could I? He'd parked right behind me. I'd given him my keys. If I were going to disappear, I'd have to do it on foot. A squad car was stationed at the front gate. Climbing over a pointed wrought iron fence was not high on my to-do list.

  An hour later my bladder said, "I need a bathroom." My watch read 1:30. My stomach said. "I'm hungry." I'd been patient. I'd been good. I really didn't want to confirm all the horrible things my brother had said about me, but enough was enough. Gathering my strength for a confrontation, I headed back towards the woodshop.

  "Captain Bloom, I am sorry to bother you, but I need to use the bathroom and get something to eat."

  He waved off two people in windbreakers and turned to face me. He sighed.

  "Can you give me just five minutes, and we'll get out of here. There's a restaurant about two miles away. You'll be staying at Arie's house tonight."

  Wow, he slipped that last line in there so smoothly I almost missed it. But I didn't miss it. Like heck I was. Don't create a scene. Be firm, but not abusive.

  "No, I won't. I'm leaving on vacation tonight."

  He took a step toward me and towered over me.

  "No. I'm afraid you are not. It's Arie's house or the station."

  Whoa, so he wasn't so nice after all. Why was I not surprised? Indignation crept through my body. My upper teeth bit my lower lip.

  "Fine," I said, "for now. Just get me out of here." Darn bladder.

  CHAPTER 5

  By the time I parked in front of Arie's house, it was 3:30. Blake, as he'd told me to call him, stopped at the garden center to retrieve the key to Arie's house, giving me a few minutes to process my surroundings and fate.

  Arie’s place hadn't changed much except for the red metal roof.

  Metal roofs were not my favorite. Red metal even less, but the house faced northwest, and two massive pine trees flanked it. The two-story house rambled a bit from various additions. Its blue siding added the water element to the energetic mix, so it wasn't the worst thing he could have done. Metal roofs tended to reflect emotional energy back at the house residents, which was good for positive emotions, not so good for depressed people. Arie had lived in a state of controlled depression for decades.

  The bowling ball arbs on each side of the front porch looked out of place with the rest of the landscaping. As if Arie needed to put them somewhere, and he threw two balls in the air. Where they landed, he planted.

  Our grandfather had owned and operated the garden center since before Dad had been born. Gramps was an imaginative, fantastic landscaper. Both Arie and I loved plants. Grandfather had taught both of us everything our brains could absorb. Arie possessed the talent and maturity of a top-notch designer at a young age, but he'd always hated anything fussy. And that included designing for customers. He viewed anything he couldn’t see, touch, hear, taste, or smell as evil. Art, creativity, design, and spirituality fell in the evil category.

  When Gramps died, Arie changed the name to Nothing Fancy Garden Center and refused to do any type of landscaping. He'd sell products to people. No way he'd do design. People told him he’d be out of business in a year. That was more than a decade ago.

  From the looks of things, he didn't even design for himself—just stuck stuff in the ground. His motto was 'you want a tree; I'll plant a tree. You want something fancy. GO SOMEWHERE ELSE." Gramps was probably rolling over in his grave. Since I was home, I should visit Gram and Gramps’ graves. It had been a long time.

  I hadn't been home for more than a drive-through visit since Gramps’ funeral. I'd zipped in, dropped off treasures at my house, and proceeded to my next appointment. Now and then, I’d drop something off concerning family business at the garden center, but Arie was never around. I continued to pay the taxes on my house here in Abracadabra. Micky, a local handyman, kept it in tip-top shape and called me whenever something needed fixing.

  Blake didn't need to know all that. Once he was gone, I'd move Sampson and me over to my house. It had a fenced backyard. At least, it did the last time I was through here.

  Blake parked behind my Mercedes.

  "Sorry, the young girl at the counter is a talker."

  "Yeah, I get the feeling you're a favorite of the ladies."

  His blue eyes shined at my comment.

  "My charm wears off quick. People tell me I'm overbearing."

  My intuition said otherwise.

  "I grew up with Arie. I think I can ha
ndle you."

  I think I saw him blush. He turned and unlocked the front door, opening it for me—a stampede of negative energy charged from the house, knocking me off balance. Blake's hands closed around my waist to steady me.

  I looked up into his eyes.

  "Sorry, the negative vibes in here got to me."

  "Just glad I was here to catch you," he said, still holding my waist.

  “Yeah, me too,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Despite the negative energy swirling about, I managed to feel a pulse of heat between us. I couldn't stay here leaning on him forever. The man had work to do.

  "I need to open the window."

  "You sure you can walk?"

  "Yes, thank you." Don't be an idiot, girl. He could lock you up in a heartbeat.

  He released me. I could stand. My legs worked. This was good. I walked through the doorway and opened the closest window after grabbing a tissue and wiping the dust off the top. Crossing the room, I opened the French doors leading to the backyard. Yeah, I know it was only fifty degrees out, but fresh air and energy were well worth a few penny hike in the electric bill.

  "When was the last time he cleaned in here?" I said more to myself than to Blake.

  "Arie's been on a tough case. Looks clean to me."

  Okay, so Blake needed glasses.

  "It's picked up. It's not been cleaned in ages." Did I sound like a shrew? If people understood what dust did to the energy in their homes, they'd have dust cloths surgically attached to their hands.

  A streak with a fluffy plume jumped from behind the door, hopped over Sampson, turned around, and attacked an unsuspecting Sampson. The poor puppy yelped before pouncing on the cat. The two rolled once, and they were off chasing around the house.

  "Does Arie still have his dog?"

  "Yes, Liberty is the official greeter at the store."

  I looked around. The place had not changed much. Just more layers of dust covered the surfaces. The need to dust and do a space clearing overwhelmed me, but I didn't want to look like a crazy person in front of the man who could put me away for the rest of my life. This was torture. Pure and simple torture. Arie was doing this on purpose.

  "Good to know. Glad he has Liberty to keep him company." The conversation died for a second. "Thank You for coming to help me. I know you did it because I'm Arie's sister, but I really appreciate it. I've been on my own for a long time. It was nice to know someone had my back."

  A hint of a blush pinked his face.

  “Well, it's a nice back to have."

  I smiled. He was already embarrassed. Cute. But remember. He's probably going to arrest you. Do Not let your guard down.

  "Um, Arie is about ten minutes from here. Do you have luggage I can bring in for you?"

  Sampson flew between us, following the white plume of a cat’s tail running and hissing at top speed.

  "Sure. Let's go get my luggage."

  CHAPTER 6

  As I grabbed my makeup bag out of the backseat, I watched a progressive trail of dust fly. Arie's brown SUV raced up the driveway like his pants were on fire. I walked towards the house to the sound of his car door slamming. He hadn't changed. My hand was now on the doorknob.

  “Faith,” I turned to see my brother scowl. He gorilla stomped towards the house. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

  I rested my back to the house for strength.

  "Do you really think your boss would have brought me here if I was?"

  Blake, as he asked me to call him, looked from me to Arie and back to me.

  "You know what I meant."

  Oh, I knew alright. As long as I wasn’t wounded, I was fair game.

  "I am not bleeding." I turned the knob and walked into the house, taking a position in front of the opened French doors. I needed the fresh energy to stabilize me for the upcoming fight with Arie.

  Arie stomped through the front door and took a position between the living room and the kitchen. Blake followed him inside.

  "Blake, you might as well close the door and stay awhile. Arie will need someone to help him bury my body."

  Blake's eyes grew wide.

  "Well, I did always love a good domestic squabble."

  "I'd make you some popcorn, but I doubt my brother has any food in these cupboards."

  Arie's eyes narrowed.

  "Faith, tell me what happened today."

  "Why? You already know. Blake's been texting you off and on."

  Blake's nose scrunched. "How do you..."

  "Faith is an expert at reading body language," Arie said. "Her accuracy is uncanny." Each word ripped a tear in the energy between us.

  Blake crossed his arms. Arie just had to tell him. There was something good and decent about Blake. I did not want him to believe all the lies Arie was about to tell him.

  "Just because I can read body language doesn't mean I use it against people."

  Arie shifted his weight.

  "Faith, out with it."

  Fine.

  "I was sent by my company to do a paid consultation. I arrived and rang the doorbell. No one answered. Since I was there to consult on the front and back yards, I reasoned my client might be in the backyard tidying things up. I heard a motor running in the workshop and opened the door. My client's body fell out."

  "Did you arrive on time?"

  "You already know the answer to that. I got lost."

  "You got lost going to Raymont Manor," he said incredulously.

  "Yes."

  "How?"

  Blake took a step forward.

  "They moved the roads,” I said.

  "Did you ask for the assignment?"

  "No. Bonnie put it on my schedule because I had a consult in Indi and one in Chicago. Raymont Manor was on my way. And for the record. Mr. Raymont did not know I was coming since my company only uses our first names. I had planned on surprising him."

  Blake held a notepad in his hands.

  "Wait, you didn't tell me you'd been to Raymont Manor before."

  "You didn't ask. And I was twelve the last time I was there. Lizzie Raymont, my friend, moved to New York to live with her mother. It hardly seemed relevant."

  From Blake's expression and body language, I knew he felt sucker punched. My stomach instantly felt queasy. Blake had a good vibe about him. How he tolerated my brother was a mystery. At that second, his phone dinged. He turned around and faced the door to read the text. He grabbed the doorknob with his other hand.

  "I've got to handle this," he said without turning around. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, "It was nice to meet you, Faith,” and he turned the doorknob.

  "Nice to meet you, Blake. Thank You for being there for me. It's was comforting to have backup."

  He left.

  I was all alone with Arie. Not the day I had planned.

  CHAPTER 7

  Arie glared at me. I glared at him.

  A white tail followed by four chocolate lab paws skittered across the floor. Sampson ran smackdab into Arie's leg. My baby spun around and landed on Arie's other shoe, straining to look up Arie's 6-foot body to his face.

  "Don't worry, Sampson. He likes dogs. It's me he hates. Time to go, Sampson."

  Arie patted Sampson on the head.

  I used the time to pick up my makeup bag and grab the handle of my carry-on.

  "Where do you think you are going?"

  "I was planning to start my vacation today, but given the events, I'm going to take Sampson to my house. I assume the backyard is still fenced in."

  He nodded.

  "It is."

  "Fine, then I'll grab my luggage and be gone. Nice to see you, brother."

  I intended to brush past him to gather more of my luggage.

  He stepped in front of me.

  "What aren't you telling me?"

  If only he knew. A part of me needed him to be the loving brother you see on TV movies. The brother he once was. My eyes teared for the loss of that brother. I wanted him to have my back. The same way his bos
s had a few minutes before Arie showed him my flaws.

  "I've told you everything I know about the situation at the Raymont house. You probably know a lot more than I do. Now, if you'll move, I'll be going home."

  'Home,' that house hadn't been home in years, but somehow, it was more of a home than my two-million-dollar apartment in L.A., which wasn't really my apartment. It belonged to my company. When I didn't return from vacation next Monday, they'd be busy packing up my things. But they'd be too late. The movers were already there now. Everything that was mine, which wasn't much, would be in a truck headed to Abracadabra by tonight.

  "I can't let you do that."

  "You can't let me go to my house?"

  He shook his head. "No, you are a Person of Interest."

  And so, it begins again. When I got my hands on the serial killer, he was a dead man.

  "I have an alibi. Blake already checked." I looked into Arie’s face. He would not win this battle.

  "Blake, Huh? That was before he found out you knew Mr. Raymont. You should have told him."

  Really? Come on. I threw up my hands.

  "I was twelve. That was decades ago. How is it even relevant? Does he think I went there to settle a forty-year-old score?"

  Arie’s posture softened a tad. His shoulders rounded a smidge.

  "I didn't say you were a suspect. Person of Interest is different."

  This was ridiculous. I started around him.

  "Look, I can't stay here. This place needs a thorough energy clearing, and I'm not in the right frame of mind to do one this intense today. I promise I won't leave my house. Sampson needs a fenced backyard. We've been on the road a few days.

  He exhaled and ran his hand through his hair.

  "Fine. Give me your wallet. I'll follow you to your house where you'll give me your keys. Do you have dog food for Sampson?"

  "Of course, I have food."