Brewing Up Trouble by Constance Barker

Author:Constance Barker [Barker, Constance]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Constance Barker
Published: 2020-06-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

The greenhouse forest got logged by five customers. Ivy could now see out the foyer windows from the cash register. She’d need to order some new plants from her distributor. With her affinity for foliage and the right potions, she could quickly grow little potted guys to the tree-sized plants her customers found desirable. She sighed. If only Harmon were here. His ability to move a rainstorm into the greenhouse really put her florae in a mood to grow. Her leafy buddies would have to settle for the watering can.

“Nada. Zilch. Zero.”

With the rush of customers, Ivy nearly forgot about the detective in her consultation room. She didn’t feel comfortable with him here, given his inquisitiveness about her business. Ivy tried to keep the magic side of things on the down low.

“Let me take a look,” Ivy said.

“Suit yourself. I gotta make a report to Simone Weatherby about progress on this case. I’ll pick up the DVD on my way back. She lives down near the beach.”

Simone was Abigail’s mother, Ivy knew. “Okay, great. Hey, thanks for letting me help out on this. It makes me feel a little better.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not used to working with a partner anymore.” Everett headed out. “I’ve had worse.”

That was probably as much of a compliment as she would get from Everett Klein. Ivy would take what she could get. Since things had quieted down in the store, she retrieved the laptop and set it on the checkout counter. Fiddling around, she saw that there were two weeks of security footage—a lot to look at. Since the museum was opened from nine a.m. to nine p.m., that made a hundred sixty-eight hours of watching, or eighty-four at twice the speed.

“Who would want to watch eighty-four hours of nothing?” Ivy said aloud.

Moira appeared, dressed in an overcoat and big-brimmed Fedora like Humphrey Bogart in the Maltese Falcon. “Guess you ain’t cut out to be a detective, shweetheart.” A cigarette appeared, dangling in her mouth. The room filled with the scent of lavender.

“Who said I wanted to be a detective?” Ivy scowled at the ghost. “I just want to make sure Abigail’s safe. Since we got all that resistance when we tried to find her with ‘Whisper Through the Leaves,’ there’s magic involved. I don’t think Everett Klein can deal with magic.”

“Or maybe you just wanna hang out with that hunky Everett. At first, I thought he was just putting on a gruff, tough guy act. Apparently, he’s a real gruff, tough guy.”

The footage went by on the screen. Ivy fast-forwarded to last Thursday night. “You really think I have any interest in Everett Klein?”

“Why not? He’s a man. I’m interested.”

Gene, Gene, the Romance Machine appeared behind the glass of the front doors. She slowed the video down. Now she watched Eugene looking forlorn in real time. Maybe he was telling the truth. “You’re interested in every man you meet.”

“Not true. I have no interest in that Eugene guy.” Moira jerked her head at the screen.

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