Grimoires, Spas & Chocolate Straws Read online

  I shot the owner a flat look. In this mess of a place, it seemed like he could have misplaced his special tea anywhere.

  Dango snapped his fingers. "Maybe Sara stole them." He leaned forward, nodding. "Yep. You should question her. She stole them, just like she stole my first big idea!"

  "Not that again!" his wife shouted from the back.

  44

  Dango's Big Idea

  Hank frowned. "What do you mean, Sara stole your first idea?"

  Yann stomped up to the counter and stood behind me, Sam on his heels. His chest heaved, and he shook a finger at Dango. The owner cringed back. "How dare you eensult Miss Sara! She would never steal."

  Dango edged back. "Yeah. Right. Like she'd never murder all her lovers either."

  Yann, normally the gentle giant, growled, a deep rumbling sound. Hank and I exchanged wide-eyed looks, and he turned and patted Yann's shoulder. "Hey, buddy. Maybe we should wait outside, get some fresh air."

  Hank jerked his head at Wiley, who startled. "Oh yeah. Definitely. Fewer people to punch out there, too."

  Hank and Wiley led the fuming Yann back outside, and Sam slid up beside me.

  "I've never ssseen Yann mad before." He gulped.

  Rhonda's mouth pulled into a sly grin. "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry!" She scrunched up her nose and bared her teeth.

  It took me a moment to place the quote, then I rolled my eyes. "Not Twilight again."

  She cackled.

  I turned to Dango. "Right. You were saying? Miss Sara stole your first idea?"

  He nodded, stroking his mustache. "The year was—"

  "Yawn," Iggy interrupted.

  Dango glared at him, but started over. "Fine. We were all young. Sara was just a fisherman's daughter, and this town a relatively poor fishing village. Her parents had betrothed her to Genji, whose family owned the okonomiyaki stand even back then. Figured it'd be a good alliance: they provide fish, he cooks it." Dango held up his palms. "But then the monsters came, obliterated the town, including Sara's home, and killed her parents. She was left alone and destitute."

  Maple pressed her lips together, her voice soft. "How awful."

  I nodded. This jived with everything we'd been told about Sara before.

  The spa owner narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't feel too sorry for her. We all suffered, believe me. Anyway, after the monsters moved inland or returned to the sea and the initial destruction settled down, I tried to help her. I wanted to buy the land her home had once stood on from her. At this point, it was worthless. Worse than worthless—that dragon had decided to burrow into the sand there and stay! Who'd want land they had to share with a dragon? I offered her a very fair price."

  I crossed my arms. "For worthless land, as you put it? I'm sure."

  "Hey." He shrugged. "These were tough times. People took what they could get."

  I cocked my head. "Yet you had enough to buy worthless land?"

  Dango's neck reddened and he looked down. "I was lucky. The monsters missed this place, left it standing. And I had some money set aside back then, a gift from my parents. At least I was investing in the local infrastructure, right?"

  Annie smoothed back her gray hair under her headband. "And why did you want this worthless dragon land then, dear?"

  Dango stood up straighter. "That was my big idea. I had the vision to turn that land into a spa—a hot sand spa. I'd gone with my wife to a neighboring island a couple years before and tried the same thing with sands heated by a volcano. I thought, why not use the dragon to my advantage and do the same thing!"

  I frowned. "Building the spa was your idea?"

  He nodded. "This was my parents’ bathhouse—the first and only one in town at the time, and I had the grand vision to expand. The sand spa would be our signature treatment." He shook his head. "And obviously it would have worked. Sara's rich now—off my idea! She was going to sell the land to me; we even had the papers drawn up. But somehow she found out about my great idea and stole it for herself. She called off the sale and spent the next few years borrowing and begging and building up that spa of hers. Then the whole town grew up around it, and suddenly everyone had a spa or a bathhouse." He gritted his teeth. "I still don't know how she found out what I was planning."

  I wondered how much of that was true. He certainly seemed to believe it. I narrowed my eyes and leaned against the tall counter. "You seem pretty upset about that. Upset enough to kill her guest and try to ruin her business?"

  Dango's eyes widened for just a moment, then he glared at me. "Psh. I wouldn't kill over it. And I would've done it long ago if I was going to."

  "Oh yeah?" I gripped the edge of the counter. "Seems like this place is hurting for business. And you said yourself that Nazo Suzuki had a bad stay here. Maybe you're lying and you knew he was the reviewer. That's why you were so desperate for him to give you a second chance. You knew another bad review would be the final nail in the coffin for your bathhouse and you saw your chance at lunch. You drugged his food with your drowsy tea, then snuck into the spa and broke the timer while he was buried in the sand, causing him to overheat. Kill two birds with one stone—prevent a bad review from coming out about your spa, and hurt Sara's business."

  Rhonda slapped her hand down. "Preach!"

  I cleared my throat. Maybe I had gotten a little carried away there—but I thought I made a good point.

  Dango blinked at me, his mouth hanging open.

  "Got nothing to say for yourself?" Maple pounced on him. "Then we're turning you in to the police!"

  Sam pushed his glasses up his nose. "Um… Kenta sssaid they're more like sssecurity guardsss, remember?"

  Maple blinked. "Er, right. Well, we're going to signal the guards and turn you in to them!"

  Dango folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "Good luck with that. I was here all afternoon when Nazo Suzuki was killed. I didn't do it—and my wife can verify that."

  "Of course I can, sweetie!" she shrieked from the back.

  I winced. Her words were nice, but the volume sounded like they were fighting. It was a confusing dynamic.

  "Hmph. Like we're going to trust her word—she would totally cover for you. She stands to benefit from Nazo Suzuki's death also." Maple lifted her blonde brows and shot a sharp look at the spa owner.

  Dango shook his head. "My guests will verify that I was here as well. The old man on the third floor saw me, and that lady—with the kids. I had to fix a burst pipe in their bathroom."

  I bit my lip, unconvinced. Still, Dango didn't seem worried. Either he'd staged this killing in a very clever way and felt confident he'd thought of everything, or… he was telling the truth. I sighed. There was a lot of evidence pointing to Dango: he had the means and the motive, and if his alibi didn't check out, then the opportunity as well.

  I pushed away from the counter. "Come on, guys."

  Maple glared at him in an adorable attempt to look intimidating. "We'll be back."

  Dango shook his head. "Please don't be! You come into my spa, accusing me of murder? Get out of here!"

  With once last glance over my shoulder, we filed out of the hotel and rejoined Wiley, Yann, and Hank, who stood outside in the dark and nearly empty street. The crowd had already gathered on the beach to watch the migration.

  Hank brightened when he saw me, which made me smile in spite of the situation. He came over and squeezed my hand. "Any luck?"

  I shook my head. "He claims he has an alibi."

  "You know, we've been talking." Hank looked to Wiley, who nodded. "And if our theory is correct, there's another avenue we could check—just for confirmation."

  Rhonda slid up and placed both her hands on my shoulders. "Do tell."

  Hank grinned. "If Dango did slip Nazo Suzuki his proprietary tea blend to knock him out, it would show up in the contents of his stomach—in the coroner's report."

  "Smart." I smiled, nodding. Then my face fell. "Does that mean we're heading to the morgue?"

  A dark sha
dow of a figure slid up beside me, and goose bumps prickled my arms. Almost against my will, I turned slowly and gazed up at a deathly pale, gaunt face.

  "Aiii!" I screamed and lurched against Hank, who wrapped his arms around me. My heart thumping, I finally registered what I'd seen. "Francis! You can't sneak up on me like that."

  Rhonda batted her lashes up at her beau and threw her arms around his hips. Francis hovered a few inches above the ground, putting his waist out of the seer's reach.

  The tall vampire blinked his black eyes. "Did somebody say morgue?"

  45

  The Morgue

  The group of us rushed across the darkened main street back to the Doragon. All the carts and street vendors had moved their wares down to the beach to sell to the crowd gathered there, and any unnecessary lights and lanterns had been dimmed to allow for the viewing of the glowing manta monsters. I glanced down the empty street toward the cliffs that loomed above. Was Leo watching again from up high? Goose bumps prickled my arms. Or was he watching me from somewhere more nearby?

  Yann pushed the heavy double doors open to the impressive lobby, and we strode with purpose up to the front desk. The concierge startled when he saw us, then squared his shoulders. "May I… help you?"

  After we explained our request, a crease of confusion formed between his brows, and his voice faltered with doubt. But he obliged and drew us a rough map to the morgue, situated on a back street toward the cliffs.

  "Thank you!" Rhonda bowed as Hank grabbed the map and led the way.

  We marched down the street, our steps quick and echoey on the stone pavers. After winding through dark and twisted alleyways, we entered a street with some shuttered businesses that looked a bit more industrial than the tourist-friendly shops on the main drag.

  Hank, eyes on the map, stopped and turned to look up at the dark building that loomed above us. Made of cement, with a dark tiled roof, it lacked the charm and elegance of the buildings near the Doragon. Hank looked down at the map, then turned right and left, and finally jerked his chin at the darkened building. "This should be it."

  I frowned. "I don't see any signage."

  Francis tipped his head back, his hooked nose in the air, and sniffed. "It's the morgue. Smells of death."

  I lifted a brow. Oh good, that was reassuring.

  Hank strode forward and pulled on the handles of the double doors. They rattled. "Door's locked." He held his hands over the pulls and magic sparked. "Hm. Advanced spells. I can't pick the lock."

  "Maybe there's a back entrance." Wiley jogged around the side of the building, then returned a minute later. "There's a door back there, but it's locked, too. Looks like it goes down into a basement though."

  Hank and I exchanged looks. That sounded promising for finding dead bodies. They were always kept in basements, right?

  Wiley folded his arms. "I tried all my best lock-picking spells on it. No luck."

  Maple gasped and shot him a look.

  Wiley grinned. "What? Sometimes the stuff my dad taught me comes in handy."

  Yann and Annie glanced at each other, and Annie shook her head. "Troublemaker, that one." She grinned, though.

  Sam shrugged. "Maybe we jussst come back tomorrow? When they're open?"

  I nodded. "It's not likely Dango's going to make a break for it. It is an island after all. Where would he go?"

  "Hmm." Hank rubbed his wrist. "Unless we scared him. There's a lot of wilderness out there where someone could hide if they were really desperate."

  I lifted a brow. "And if he's lying about having an alibi, he knows he'll be found out."

  Hank nodded and drifted off into thought. I bit my lip. We could break a window—but that might set off a magical alarm or booby-trap system. Or maybe…. I looked up to the second story and grinned, my heart picking up its pace. "Look!"

  My friends turned to follow my finger as I pointed to the window above the door. "That window's open!" I turned to Francis and he picked up on the idea before I said anything.

  The vampire cleared his throat. "Allow me."

  In a whirl of black, smoke-like magic, he transformed into a large, black bat and flew up and in, through the open bottom half of the window. The rest of us rushed to the side door, and moments later the lock clicked and Francis opened it for us from the inside.

  We filed into the dark, eerie space. The shadows of gnarled tree branches filtered in through the small windows at the top of the basement walls. I unshuttered Iggy's lantern to let out as much of his light as possible and looked around.

  Luckily, the shining metal exam tables were empty, though I shuddered as I spotted the wall of drawers behind me. I let out a breath, the moisture fogging in the chilly space.

  "Aw, look at us!" Iggy cackled. "The gang's reunited for another morgue hangout."

  I frowned, then remembered. "Oh, like in Wee Ferngroveshire?"

  Francis shrugged. "I think it's rather nice in here—calm."

  I flashed my eyes at Maple, who'd curled her lip back.

  Hank narrowed his eyes, peering into the dark. “Anybody see the autopsy report?”

  We fanned out searching, but Francis waved a long, pale hand. “No need.”

  He found the drawer labeled N. Suzuki and tapped it with a long nail. “Found him.”

  It took Wiley and Hank working together to pull it out, the man was so heavy. Maple turned away and buried her face in my shoulder, and I patted her back. A sheet covered the man's large, mounded stomach, just his purple toes sticking out, with a tag tied to one. Hank, his face grim, double-checked the tag, then nodded.

  "Is the report with him?" I stayed a bit away from the body with Maple.

  Wiley made a face as he glanced around, then shook his head. "No. But there are some bags of… body parts?"

  Hank looked like he might be sick and turned his face away.

  Francis lifted an oiled canvas bag, untied it, and looked inside. I shuddered. He reached one long, pale finger in and poked around. "Nope. We're looking for the stomach." He grabbed another bag and repeated the process. "Ah. Here we go."

  Hank had gone pale.

  Maple started to lift her head, but I hugged her tighter to me. "You don't want to see this."

  I didn't either, really. I turned away as Francis prodded through the contents of the stomach. There were squishing noises, followed by Francis's sniffing. I kept my face buried in Maple's hair. I jumped when the drawer shut with a CLANG and looked up.

  Francis stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked it clean. Hank gagged.

  "Well?" I winced, trying not to lose my dinner.

  "I can say with complete certainty that besides his stomach being full of an unhealthy amount of those weird cabbage pancake pizzas you're all so crazy about—"

  Yep, that was my weird cabbage pancake pizza thing making its way back up.

  "His stomach also contained a decent amount of tea."

  I lifted a brow. "Was it the tea Dango created? His signature blend?"

  Francis cocked his head, his black hair slicked into place. "Would that have been the same tea that wafted out into the street from his place?"

  Hank pressed a fist to his mouth, but nodded. His voice came out choked. "The maho tea? Yes, we're fairly sure that was the main ingredient."

  The vampire straightened. "Then yes. This man consumed quite a quantity of that tea."

  I bit my lip. "That means Dango probably drugged him, just like we suspected."

  "And eef he is getting desperate, Miss Sara might be een danger!" Yann squared his broad shoulders. "We must hurry!"

  Hank nodded, a fist still pressed to his mouth, and his skin a shade of pale green. "We need to alert the guards."

  "And warn Sara!" Yann nodded.

  "And find Dango—in case he tries to get revenge or make a run for it."

  "But how are we going to alert Kenta and the other guardsss?" Sam wrung his hands.

  He had a good point. Maybe I could magically transform into a fish and swim ou
t there? That'd be dangerous though, with all the monstrous creatures rising to the surface to feed. Maybe Francis could fly out there—but that might be a risk too, with the mantas flying through the air. It'd be faster just to commission a boat to take us out there. If only we could see which boat the guards were on first—that'd save us a lot of time trying to find them.

  "Oh!" I lit up and raised a finger. "Genji's telescope! He has one at the food stand for stargazing—I bet he'd let us borrow it to find the Kenta or Misaki and round up the guards to make the arrest."

  Hank grinned at me. "That's a wonderful idea."

  I smiled back. The moment was over when he gagged and covered his mouth again.

  "To da food stand!" Yann punched a fist in the air and led the way.

  46

  Fear

  My friends and I raced through the darkened streets. Iggy in his lantern swung from my hand. Flashes of light lit up the tiled roofs. We soon reached the beach and ran past the spectators who gazed out at the brilliant neon light show in the sea.

  The manta monsters leaped and soared through the sky in a spectacular show—but we didn't have time to sit and watch. As we trudged through the soft sand of the beach, taking a shortcut across to the pier, I glanced out at the water.

  Dark shadows bobbed amongst all the light. Which of those were the boats that held our friends, the guards who could arrest Dango and bring him to justice?

  The crowd gasped in delight as an enormous ray plummeted from the sky back into the sea and sent up a sparkling spray of blue and purple magic.

  With my heart pounding in my chest and a trickle of sweat forming on my brow, we finally reached the wooden boards of the pier and raced down the line of food stalls and tents selling wares and carnival games. Many were dark or had dimmed the lights strung across their fronts, though plenty of people still milled about and ate at the food stalls.

  Our feet clomped along the boards, sounding like a herd of horses, and my breath was loud in my ears. I dodged right to avoid running straight into a woman and her little boy. She gasped, her eyes round.