Chapter 2 #2
“How did you manage that?” Margie’s voice sounded strangled.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “You mean how did I manage to override your carefully crafted spell?”
Margie sniffed indignantly. “We would never.”
“You’re witches. You can’t help yourselves. ”
Catherine glowered at her. “You weren’t really trying to cheat, were you?”
Margie waved her off. “Oh, it was only a bit of fun. It was Meemaw’s idea.”
Catherine looked from Meemaw to Margie. “Why did I not sense anything?”
I scooped my winnings from the middle of the table, straight into my open handbag. “A pleasure, as always, ladies.” I snapped the bag closed and rose to my feet.
But Catherine wasn’t finished with her inquest. “How did you sense it, Maya?”
“I work in security. It’s my job to sense these things.”
“But you’re not a witch. Your mother was a Gorgon, wasn’t she?”
“And my father was a mage.”
Meemaw gave me a sidelong glance. “How about that? Learn something new every day.”
“You never talk about your father,” Edith said.
Margie opened a red-and-white-striped peppermint and popped it into her mouth. “She never talks about anything except her job.”
“Maybe that’s all I have to talk about. Everything else is boring.”
“On the contrary,” Meemaw said. “It’s always the ones with good stories to tell that play their cards close to their chests.”
Edith splayed her hands on the table. “Well, I’m an open book. You can ask me anything.”
Meemaw gave her a pointed look. “I rest my case.”
As I approached the bike rack outside Meemaw’s condo, I noticed a silver-haired woman leaving Louise’s place. I was glad I was the only one leaving the card game. I would’ve felt terrible if all the players had spilled out at the same time right in front of the new Neighbor.
I abandoned my Huffy, adopted my friendliest smile, and intercepted the woman. “Hi. You’re Bernice, right?”
The older woman’s smile was half relief, half longing. “That’s right. Have we met?”
“I’m Maya August, assistant director of security. How are you settling in?”
She gestured to the air. “I feel like I’m breathing through a straw.”
“Welcome to Evermore. We have elemental witches who can control every aspect of weather except the humidity.”
“I would’ve preferred the island near Catalina, but their wait list is a year. My niece was able to pull strings to get me in here when a space opened up.”
“I think you’ll like it. You lucked out with your roommate. Louise is an OG Neighbor and knows everybody. My advice is to stick close to her and you’ll be fine.”
“I’d love to, but she doesn’t seem to care for me very much. I heard her huff behind my back when I was making tea this morning. I can’t help that I need a special blend for my stomach issues.”
I wasn’t interested in the details about Bernice’s stomach issues. “Louise has a thick outer layer, but once you penetrate it, you’re in for life.”
“I do find her eye patch disconcerting. I can’t tell when she’s looking at me.”
“That eye patch is her whole identity. I say embrace it. ”
Bernice sucked the air between her teeth. “It is a terrible story how she lost her eye. I don’t envy her.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I waited to hear which version of events Bernice had been given.
“I mean, you hear about ‘an eye for an eye,’ but you never take it literally.”
I suppressed a smile. “Louise is definitely someone you want in your corner.”
Bernice gave me the once-over. “You seem awfully young to be a Neighbor. How long have you lived here?”
“I work security. Assuming I live to a ripe old age, I’ll get first dibs on a permanent place.”
“That must be a relief, knowing you have a guaranteed place when the time comes. My family had to scramble once it became clear my time was up.”
“Something happened to trigger the move?”
“Oh, yes. One of my great-granddaughter’s friends found my photograph.”
“What was so damning about it?”
“It was taken during the Great Depression,” Bernice explained. It wasn’t uncommon for were-meerkats, more commonly known as werekats, to live up to one hundred and fifty years.
“Couldn’t you say it was AI-generated?”
“She discovered it in her history textbook. The caption also included my name. We tried to pass it off as an ancestor, but the girl wasn’t convinced.
She started posting about it online, along with my current photo and the page from the history book.
The cleanup caused my family quite a lot of trouble and expense. ”
In other words, it was their decision to send her away, not hers. “I’m sorry, Bernice. Technology can be great, except when it isn’t.” As if on cue, my phone vibrated in my pocket. “Sorry, duty calls.” I pulled out the phone and answered, “Security.”
“Belinda’s apparently in the fountain again.” Justine didn’t bother to hide her annoyance. As the president of the HOA, she handled even more complaints than my office.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Problem?” Bernice asked.
“Nothing that can’t be handled with a stun gun and two ibuprofen.”
Bernice laughed. “I hope everybody’s as friendly as you, Maya. Thank you for taking the time to make me feel at home.”
That was me, your friendly neighborhood welcome wagon. “Good luck. I predict you and Louise will be besties by the end of the month.”
I retrieved my bicycle and rode to the fountain known affectionately as Poseidon’s Potty, due to the large statue of the sea god in its center surrounded by a puddle of water. I propped my bike against the side of the fountain, where I spotted a sparkling aquamarine tail sticking upright.
Another day, another drunk mermaid. This mermaid, however, no longer bared tits that defied gravity.
If she did, I doubt anybody would have bothered to report her.
It was Belinda’s aging body that was the real offense.
To be fair, Evermore had an entire section devoted to nude Neighbors.
The HOA approved the clothing-optional area after residents complained that shifters were leaving their discarded clothing on people’s front lawns.
A helpful sign now alerted you to the Buff Base entrance: Leave your modesty and your clothes at the gate .
I wasn’t sure why Belinda was drawn to the fountain when there were dozens of other, more suitable bodies of water to inhabit.
Evermore had a dozen pools, a pond, a lake, and the island was obviously surrounded by water on all sides, yet this fountain was the flame to her moth.
Based on the trail of glitter that sparkled across the pale pavement, Belinda must’ve crawled to the fountain and deposited herself in the shallow water.
How drunk was she on a Sunday afternoon?
More than likely she’d attended the same party as Judd.
I approached the mermaid with caution in case she decided to barf.
A mixture of makeup and mascara streaked her face.
A false eyelash was stuck to her cheek. This wasn’t the first time I’d fished Belinda out of the fountain, but it was the first time I’d seen her look this worse for wear.
Normally I found her splashing passersby, belting out show tunes, or hanging from Poseidon’s trident—his actual trident, not a euphemism.
“Belinda.” I shook her shoulder. “Wake up. Party’s over. Time to go home and sleep it off.”
The mermaid remained motionless.
“Belinda, can you hear me?”
An uneasy sensation crawled up my spine. I dipped my hand into the water to hold her wrist. No pulse.
Shit.
Belinda wasn’t dead drunk—she was just dead.