Dog-Eared Delinquent

Chapter Nineteen

When we made it back home from our trip out to Caraway Island, a familiar Lexus sat waiting for us in the driveway. I’d seen it pretty much every day for the better part of the year and had no doubt that it belonged to Bethany, my frenemy turned boss.

I’d really thought we’d made great strides in our relationship. That is, until she hired Peter and refused to listen to any of my concerns.

She sat waiting in one of the rocking chairs Nan had added to the front porch earlier that summer. When we pulled up, she stood but didn’t take any strides forward, instead waiting for us to join her on the porch.

“Take him inside,” I told Nan, handing Octo-Cat off to her. I was afraid to leave him alone since we’d picked him up. True, he’d lost his voice and not a limb, but the associated pain cut deeper than I could have ever imagined. I wondered if he knew, too.

“Come with your nan-nan, you sweet kitty boy,” Nan cooed as she disappeared into the house. Although she understood that he and I had lost our special connection, Nan had never been able to talk to him, anyway. As far as their relationship was concerned, everything was perfectly normal. I knew he’d be happy with her. He’d always held a special place in his heart for Nan.

But without our ability to communicate, would he still hold one for me? I couldn’t think like that. We’d find a way to fix everything. I had to believe in that, had to believe in us.

“What do you want?” I asked Bethany with a frown. I was both too exhausted and too devastated to play nice. I was also still more than a little miffed that she had been the one to bring Peter into my world.

“I’m assuming you heard about my cousin,” she said, sitting back down and crossing her ankles like some kind of grand duchess.

I joined her by taking a seat in the other rocking chair, mostly because I was too weary to keep standing on my own. “What about him? That he got arrested? Or that he’s responsible for the string of burglaries downtown? Oh, maybe you mean the fact that he can turn into a dog!”

Bethany sucked air in through her teeth. Her light blonde hair blew gently in the breeze, and she sat with one of her suit jackets draped across her lap, though it was far from chilly. Under any other circumstances, this would have been the perfect summer afternoon. As it was, though, this had become my own personal hell.

Just as Peter had promised if I pulled anything funny.

“Did you know?” I demanded of Bethany. “Did you know about all of this?”

She hung her head and nodded. “Yes, but I never thought he would hurt you, Angie. You have to believe me.”

“I thought we were friends,” I said coldly. Her betrayal stung. I couldn’t pretend that it hadn’t.

“We were,” she insisted, looking like she wanted to say something more, but stopping herself. She sighed and added, “Still are, I hope.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to answer her either way. So much had already been taken from me that day. As much as I didn’t want to lose anything else, I also didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive Bethany for the things Peter had done. They never would have happened if she hadn’t hired him in the first place or if she would have listened when I shared my concerns.

“Why are you here?” I demanded, not caring that my voice sounded cold and uncaring—or that she was technically my boss now.

“To help,” she said softly. “And to explain a few things.”

I made a dismissive motion with my hands. “Well, go ahead and get it over with, then.”

“I hired Peter because I thought having an honest job would help him. I never meant for you to get hurt.” She said so quickly it took me a moment to process. “Please, if you believe nothing else I say today, believe that.”

I considered this but kept quiet, waiting for her to offer more. I wasn’t sure any explanation would ever be enough, but at least someone was finally giving me answers without threatening or hurting me in the process.

“I knew he’d been hanging out with some less than savory characters, but I had no idea just how deeply he was involved. I had hoped it wasn’t too late to save him, but apparently I was wrong.” Most of the women I knew would cry to gain sympathy, but not Bethany. She remained stoic to the bitter end. Always had.

“Did you know about the magic?” I demanded.

“Yes,” she said emphatically. She clenched her eyes shut then admitted, “Because I have it, too.”

I stared at her with my mouth hanging open rather impolitely. Of course she did. They were cousins, after all. “Do you use it to rob people, too?” I asked with a snort.

“No,” she insisted, shaking her head. “I don’t use it at all.”

“What about the essential oils?” I mumbled, thinking back to all of the strangeness Bethany had exhibited since I’ve known her. As far as I knew, she was perfectly normal other than her obsession with mixing and matching scents each morning. “Are those your potions or brews or whatever?”

I laughed bitterly at this, but Bethany remained firm.

“I’m not a witch,” she told me. “Mostly because witches aren’t real.”

“How can I believe you, though? Up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know that magic was real.” I paused a moment to let that sink in. “Where does it end? How do I even know what’s real and what’s made up now?”

“You can’t,” she said sadly. “And I’m sorry that you’ve been pulled into this world. I never wanted that for you.”

“Then what were you doing this whole time?” I couldn’t take her at face value. Not anymore. I’d seen too much to ever trust anyone at their word again. “Were you lying in wait until the timing was right?”

She looked truly pained, but only a small part of me cared. I’d been hurt, too. Burned. Damaged beyond repair.

“Just trying to live a normal life, the same as you.”

“But you’re one of them,” I reminded her.

“Not all magic people are bad.”

“Peter’s bad.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a sigh. “I wanted more for him, but I was too late to help.”

We sat in silence for a few moments as the wind blew the overgrown blades of grass in a wave across my front lawn.

“Have you ever wondered why you can talk to your cat?” Bethany asked, her eyes full of unshed tears. She was still too tough to cry. That was another thing about us that was irreconcilably different.

I cried freely. Why even fight it anymore? “You know about that?” I asked, too exhausted to be shocked by anything now.

She nodded, then raised the suit jacket from her lap and tossed it to me. “Do you recognize this?”

“It’s one of your ugly blazers.”

“I’ll let that slide, because I know you’re hurting right now,” she said, waiting.

I fingered the cool fabric, releasing the scents of juniper and lemon into the air.

“Do you remember wearing it?” she pressed again.

I thought back to one of the many times Thompson had forced me to borrow clothes from Bethany to appear more presentable when an important client visited the office.

And that was when the final piece of this week’s horrible puzzle settled into place. “Ethel Fulton’s will reading,” I said.

“Yes,” she said with a nod of affirmation. “Do you understand what happened now?”

“The magical residue Moss mentioned. That was from you?”

She nodded again. “It was in my blazer. The electric shock strengthened it, transferred that energy to you.”

“But I’m not magical,” I said with a huff.

“No, not fully. Usually resonance disappears quickly. The fact yours didn’t is my fault, I’m afraid.”

I turned to her with a hundred questions begging to be let out. A single word escaped my lips. “Why?”

“I already told you, I don’t practice magic. The energy has nowhere to go. A lot of it has built up over the years, packed in tight. That zap uncoiled all of it and created a reaction.”

“But I can’t mess with people’s minds or use glamor or change into an animal.” I felt so incredibly small and helpless as I reminded her of all the things I couldn’t do. Ever since I’d gained the ability to speak to Octo-Cat, I’d thought of myself as having superpowers. What a joke. There were real super humans out there in the world, but sadly, I wasn’t one of them.

“You got a small but powerful dose from that jacket,” Bethany explained, watching me carefully. “The cat got it, too.”

I searched her face while she struggled to find her words.

“He was close by and somehow it created a bond between you. I don’t know why you only got the one ability or why it hasn’t left you yet.”

“Oh, but Bethany,” I said, once again crying for all I’d lost. “It has. Octo-Cat and I… We can’t talk anymore.”

Then I realized something wonderful. “Can you fix it? Can you make things how they were again?”

Bethany bit her lower lip and sucked a deep breath in through her nostrils. “I don’t use magic,” she said again. “But for you, I’m willing to try.”