What Trickery Is This? Read online

  Wanda nodded. “Maybe.” She glanced toward Becca’s door. “We need to tell her.”

  I sighed. “I’ll do it. It’s my fault she’s in this predicament.”

  “You should know, if it’s the wizrooms, the effects will last until they bloom again.”

  Gripping the door handle, I grimaced. “How long will that be?”

  “A year.”

  “Curse, swear, curse, curse,” I murmured. Then I pushed the door open and went inside to tell a sixteen-year-old girl that she might have to live with silver-dollar-sized pink and purple polka dots all over her body for a full year.

  Fighting three deadly Leviathans at the bottom of an ocean suddenly sounded preferable.

  2

  Reality a Sucker’s Game

  Wanda and I were heading to the Rome Police station when I got another summons. I jerked as if I’d been stabbed with a live electric wire and slammed the brake pedal hard enough to leave rubber on the road.

  Bracing herself on the dashboard with two hands, Wanda turned a questioning gaze my way.

  “We’re going to the OB/GYN,” I said, by way of explanation.

  Her dark brows lifted. “You’re pregnant?” The brows danced above her dark gaze. “Have you and our favorite angel been doing the naughty?”

  Despite a maturity that had been hard-won through forty-five years of living, I blushed. The thought of doing anything naughty with Lungren Maker made me sweat and tightened my belly in a very pleasant way. I decided it was best to just ignore her question. “Apparently, the doctor has something to show us.”

  Wanda chuckled softly but didn’t tease me again.

  To my vast relief.

  My relationship with Gren was one of the best parts of my new life. He’d brought feelings and emotions to life that I thought had died years earlier. But it was a new thing, still timid and green, struggling for life, and I didn’t want to overthink it for fear I’d kill it on its tender young vine.

  I pulled up in front of the Rome Medical Center and parked.

  Wanda hopped out of the car with the endless energy of youth. I climbed out on a groan, willing my sore muscles to stop trying to strangle my bones and allow me to walk alongside the teen without looking like Quasimodo.

  I mostly achieved my goal.

  It had been a while since I’d entered the office of Meredith Lawson, Obstetrician/Gynecologist and closet fertility goddess. I’d been going to Doc Lawson for a couple of decades and had only recently realized she was magical. Imagine my surprise when I found out what she was. I’d canceled my annual checkup with her the previous month, telling myself I didn’t have time. It was minutely possible that I was afraid her fertility proficiencies might somehow infect me.

  My logical brain knew that I’d need to actually engage in activities that caused that type of infection. I wasn’t in any danger on that front. Though, the thought made me wince, realizing I really had no excuse to continue avoiding my yearly checkup and stirrup party.

  Curse!

  Wanda’s eyes went wide as she looked around the busy waiting area. She leaned close and whispered into my ear. “Looks like Rome is about to have a population explosion.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I’d never seen so many pregnant women gathered together in one spot before. One of the women even had graying hair and looked to be in her late fifties.

  I strode up to the check-in counter. The woman behind the glass smiled at me, tucking a strand of graying brown hair behind her ear. “Hey, Aggy. What do you need?”

  “Doctor Lawson wanted to see me,” I told her.

  The woman nodded. “Let me see if she’s available….” Her voice trailed off as the door to the exam rooms opened, and Dr. Lawson stuck her head out. Her round face was too pale, and her eyes looked a little wild. She motioned for us to come back.

  As soon as the door closed behind her, Dr. Lawson grabbed my arm, her eyes so large I worried they’d pop out of her head. “You need to see this!” she said in a slightly hysterical tone. She all but dragged me down the hallway and into her office, closing and locking the door behind us.

  I swung a look at Wanda, and the teen gave me a wide-eyed look that told me she thought the doctor was acting crazy. I agreed. My experiences with Meredith Lawson had been positive and comfortable. She’d always struck me as a calm, professional woman who, admittedly, didn’t have much of a sense of humor but whose manner was soothing enough to make even a jaunt in the exam stirrups slightly less humiliating.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her, reaching for her hand to soothe.

  But the doc whipped around, striding quickly out of my reach, and pointed to several x-rays she’d clipped onto the lighted reader on the wall. “Look at these!”

  I blinked. I was many things…some of which I was just learning about…but I was pretty sure I hadn’t acquired a medical degree with my guardianship of Rome, Indiana. “Okay,” I said, squinting at the hazy gray pictures. “I’m looking. But I have no idea what I’m looking at,” I admitted.

  “You’re looking at ultrasounds of the wombs of several of my patients.” She ran a finger over an area in each that seemed more storm-cloud colored than charcoal. “This area here is empty in all of them.”

  “Ookaay,” I said, unsure what she was trying to tell me.

  “There should be babies there!” she exclaimed in a voice that stepped over the border into hysteria.

  I glanced at Wanda, only to find the teen staring intently at the x-rays.

  “Aggy, do you understand what I’m telling you?” Doc Lawson screeched.

  I didn’t. But I had a feeling that if I admitted my cluelessness, the doc might launch into the ceiling tiles, and I’d have to yank her back out.

  Fortunately, Wanda saved us both. “Those women out there, in the waiting room. They looked pregnant.”

  Doc Lawson nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly.”

  I thought of the young woman in the road, staring bug-eyed at her belly as if she’d never seen it before, and what the doc was telling me finally sank in. “They’re not really pregnant, are they?”

  “No!” she exclaimed. “They’re not.”

  Swear, curse, swear, swear! What was going on in my beloved Rome?

  Wanda and I were back in the Range Rover, heading to see Chief Davis Marshal. I had let Doc Lawson vent for a few minutes, then promised to look into what might be causing the faux pregnancies in Rome. Aside from the obvious problem with the situation, there was the added fear of what it would do to some of those young women when they found out they weren’t really carrying a child in their burgeoning bodies.

  “Could the wizrooms have caused the fake pregnancies?” I asked Wanda.

  The teen didn’t even hesitate before shaking her head. “It could be, but I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of this before.”

  That made two of us. Actually, three, counting the doc. “Maybe there is literally something in the water that’s fooling women’s bodies into thinking they’re pregnant?” I suggested.

  “It would have to be magical, whatever it is. That woman in the street said her stomach just appeared, from one minute to the next.”

  I fought the urge to touch my belly to make sure it wasn’t rounder than it had been that morning, only resisting because I’d had two bagels earlier. It would be embarrassing for Doc Lawson to ultrasound my round belly and pronounce me the proud parent of bagel twins.

  I parked on the street in front of the Rome Police Station and linked my arm through Wanda’s, giving her a smile as we headed into the narrow alley that hid the entrance to Chief Marshal’s domain.

  We pushed open the scarred, wooden door and stepped into pure chaos. Wanda and I stood at the bottom of three wide steps that led to the station’s lobby area. We didn’t move forward because we couldn’t. The place was wall-to-wall people, the room throbbing with voices and taut with an array of negative emotions.

  Two of the town’s uniformed cops were trying to make their way toward the door, but the crowd kept swarming them, at times aggressive and then frantic with need.

  Above all the voices, I heard Chief Marshal’s deep voice, trying to be heard above the roar.

  “That’s enough!” he finally bellowed. “We need to organize this, or nobody’s going to get heard.”

  I glanced at Wanda. She made a face. “Can you do anything?” She had to shout to be heard above the noise. The people in front of us turned to glare at her as if she’d suggested shoving our way to the front.

  I thought about my resources. Most of what I used was defensive. But I’d been practicing with my powers, and I thought I might be able to inject some calm into the room. I closed my eyes, opening my hands and feeling the warmth of my Lares energy spreading through my palms. I infused the energy with as much calm as I could gather, which, given the events of my morning, probably wasn’t nearly enough. Then I instilled the calm with a gentle suggestion to return home and wait for someone to come to them to help. The sweet scent of lavender rose into the air around me, snapping my eyes open.

  The magic was visible, like a soft purple mist that rose into the room and spread through the crowd. The chaos didn’t change for a long moment, making me believe my attempt had failed. But then, slowly, the noise started to lessen. The erratic energy of the crowd slowed.

  The two young officers moved through the becalmed people and pushed past Wanda and me, opening the doors and moving into the alley.

  “Officers Wendt and Bristle will take down your names and contact information,” Chief Marshal told the crowd, which was turning toward the door and moving calmly toward the stairs. “Someone will visit you at home and take your statements.”

  Wanda and I flattened ourselves against the wall and waited until everyone had filtered out of the room. Then we went upstairs, only to find the Marshal sitting behind his desk, his head in his hands and his broad shoulders drooping.

  He looked impossibly tired, and when he lifted his gaze to mine, I saw more than weariness in their dark blue depths. “Aggy. Thank heaven. I wondered why they’d suddenly calmed down. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

  I sat down in the chair in front of his desk. Wanda drifted around the room, checking out the framed accolades and stories of the chief’s good work in Rome. The space didn’t hold much else. Aside from the chief’s oversized desk and the two hard wooden chairs facing it, there was only a folding table with coffee fixings and two doors. One of which led to a small bathroom, and the other led to the cells, which had been spelled to contain magical as well as human prisoners.

  “What’s going on?” I asked the chief.

  He rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “I wish I knew. It’s been like this since yesterday. The entire town has gone crazy.” He jerked his head toward the door to the cells. “My jail is full. Every cell has at least five people in it. Magical folks as well as humans. This town hasn’t seen so much crime since I’ve been a cop in Rome. And that’s a long dang time.”

  I told him about some of the things I’d been dealing with.

  The chief listened intently, and I got the feeling he was desperate for an explanation for the chaos. “Do you have any idea what might be causing this?” he asked when I was done.

  “Maybe it's these wizrooms Wanda told me about,” I suggested. I’d mostly just offered the possibility to take a little of the haunted look out of his tired eyes. “We need to eradicate those as quickly as possible.”

  He nodded. “Any chance your people can take care of that? My guys are going to have their hands full with all the interviews.” He dropped back into his chair, looking as if he might cry. “I’m going to have to bring in a few temporary cops if this keeps up.”

  “I’ll send Niele out to deal with them,” I told him. The gnome was not only my groundskeeper and, therefore, an expert in all things green and growing, but he was also a member of my council and a trusted friend. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  The chief leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. He looked me right in the eye. “If you took this knowledge of magic away from me, would all these magical problems go away too?”

  I felt a grin tugging at my lips. “’Fraid not. But if you find a way to make that happen, you’ll let me know, right? I could use a little vacation.”

  He nodded. “Done. Seriously though, did you have a reason for coming?”

  “I just thought I should check in. I hadn’t heard from you for a while. Maybe my people and I can take a few problems off your plate.”

  “I’d be forever in your debt.” Chief Marshal stood and offered me his hand. “Thanks for your help, Aggy. You’re good people.”

  I wasn’t sure about that since I hadn’t really fixed anything since waking up to the chaos. At least the summons gong had finally gone quiet. It had probably gotten overwhelmed and given up. “I’ll keep you posted on the wizrooms and stuff.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced at Wanda. “Young lady, how are you settlin’ in at Aggy’s place?”

  Wanda shrugged. “Okay.”

  He raised a brow. “Problems?”

  I waited, knowing what was coming and interested in how Chief Marshall would handle it. “I like it there. I love the dog and the bat….”

  “Bat?” He looked at me. “You need an exterminator?”

  I laughed. “Not unless you want to set off a whole new supernatural type war.”

  He lifted his hands in surrender and returned his attention to Wanda. “But…?” he prodded.

  Wanda threw me a glare. “She makes me eat vegetables.”

  I nodded when the chief sent me a look. “It’s true. All kinds. She’s particularly fond of the brussels sprouts.”

  Wanda made a gagging sound.

  The chief’s lips twitched, and some of the weariness left his face. “A vegetable now and then never hurt anybody,” he told the teen.

  “Says a guy who probably lives on pizza and beer,” she mumbled.

  “Yes, but I get green peppers and onions on my pizza,” he agreed.

  I laughed, frowning at the teen. “Are you done insulting Rome’s top cop by pigeonholing him into the single man bracket?”

  Wanda rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll be in touch,” I told the chief. Wanda and I had descended the stairs and opened the door into the alley when the chief called my name. I stopped and looked back.

  “How’s your family doing?”

  It might seem like an odd question for anyone who wasn’t aware of the chief’s “fondness” for my adopted mom, Mavis.

  I knew what he was really asking, and I loved the idea of him being sweet on one of the kindest, most loving women I knew. “Bev’s wonderful.”

  He lowered his chin and looked at me from beneath dense brows.

  I laughed. “Mavis is great too. If you get tired of pizza and beer, you should stop by for dinner. She’s an excellent cook.” I turned away and left him with that thought. I was smiling when I walked outside and bumped into Wanda. She’d stopped dead in her tracks and was staring at the street, her mouth hanging open.

  “What’s wrong? You look like a fish out of water with your mouth hanging open like tha….” The words died as my gaze located the source of her attention.

  “Goddess in a gilded girdle. What is going on around here?”

  I was staring at my elderly Range Rover. Or, at least the underside of it. Like a dozen other cars I could see up and down Main Street, it had been flipped over onto its roof, like a turtle unable to right itself.

  3

  What’s Up is Down and Down is Up

  “Hey, honey,” Mavis called from the back of the house.

  I followed Wanda to the kitchen, the teen zeroing in on something that smelled delicious.

  “What’s for dinner?” Wanda asked. “It smells amazing.”

  “Beef stew and butter biscuits,” Mavis answered, pushing a strand of dark hair from the teen’s pale face. “Why don’t you wash your hands and set the table.” Wanda hurried to do as requested. “How many people?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. Aggy?”

  I was still staring in disbelief at the mother of my heart. At five feet seven, she was a couple of inches shorter than me and fifteen plus years older than my forty-five years. But her peaches and cream complexion was still smooth, and her new blonde pixie cut showed no sign of thinning. An intense gray gaze, so like her daughter’s, skimmed over me, focusing on my face and darkening with concern. She frowned. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “No, mom. I’m not okay. Is it possible you haven’t noticed anything strange about the day? Anything at all?”

  She gave me a smile. “You mean like that?” She pointed toward the mudroom door, and I nearly groaned. “I’m afraid to look.”

  “I know,” Mavis said, “But you have to.”

  Sighing theatrically, I headed toward the door and went outside onto my cozy little patio. To my relief, the iron and glass table where I took my evening wine and my morning coffee were just where I expected them to be, undamaged.

  Due to Niele’s excellent work, the patio had been enclosed in a pretty little picket fence with climbing flowers and an archway as an entrance. In order to see the rest of the yard, I needed to go through the archway.

  I didn’t want to go through that archway.

  “Look at the cemetery,” Mavis called through the door. She came out as I started in that direction, drying her hands on a kitchen towel.

  I jolted to a stop before I’d gone ten feet, my eyes widening in horror. “Where is it?” I turned to Mavis. “Mom? Is this some kind of joke?”

  “More like a trick,” she said, frowning.

  The ancient cemetery that had occupied a picturesque spot surrounded by trees and infused with the pleasant scent of flowers was…gone.

  I hurried across the yard, stepping through the gate in the freshly painted picket fence that had once enclosed the small square of hallowed ground filled with stone markers. I stared at the unbroken grass. There were no signs of anything. No tombstones. No flowers. No ghosts meandering around.