Flamed Out

Chapter One

The winged lion winked at me, and I reared back in surprise. How could a rock-solid object move an eyelid? Impossible, as there was no flesh or blood in this mythical statuette. Even so, my intuition flared.

I’d been discovering my psychic abilities over the last ten months, but this oddity didn’t fit with anything I’d learned. How could an inanimate object, even one representing such a powerful creature, bat an eyelid? And why now? This particular item had been in The Book and Candle Shop for nearly three weeks and never once moved on its stony perch.

Weird. Perplexing. Troubling, even.

Was this a magical message?

If it wasn’t magic…was I losing it? A terrible fear swept through me.

Not now.

Not when everything was so right.

My sister, Sage Winslow, pinged me right away on our twin-link. You okay, Tabs?

Busy, I replied as I studied the winged lion on the shelf. Nothing different about his fierce large wings or his sturdy lion body. I squinted to make sure of what I was seeing. Nothing there. Was I losing it? Didn’t want to go there.

Perhaps it was a message from beyond? I stared fixedly at the statuette. Come on, lion, wink at me, I double dog dare you. It stared steadily, no give to his stone eyelids.

I exhaled slowly, trying to figure this out like a rational person. No secret message. No decline in mental abilities. But I saw what I saw. Hmm.

As usual, Sage had no wait in her. Both cats went tearing out of here and through the cat door to the shop. Tabby, if you don’t answer me right this second, I’m coming downstairs and braining whoever is bothering you.

My black cat Harley thundered toward me and leapt into my arms. His sister Luna twined herself around my legs. Harley filled my arms. His noises of contentment soothed me. He’d known I was having a moment and come running to help.

Even though Sage’s new guy had a calming effect on her, she hadn’t lost her hair trigger of emotions. I better follow up. No need. It sounds strange, but I believed the winged lion winked at me. Totally caught me off guard. Took me a second to realize it wasn’t a housecleaning issue. I’m fine but a bit puzzled.

Harley took that moment to jump down and curl up on the cushioned wicker chairs of our book nook. His sibling joined him.

Understood, Sage said in my head. I’ll go back to sprucing up my lettuce containers for next weekend’s plant sale. We’ll see you at dinner tonight with a green salad and garlic bread.

Dinner. Right. Quig and I didn’t entertain, per se, but having my sister and her boyfriend over for dinner made me feel like I was doing married life right.

Sure. Sorry for spooking us both. That eye shimmer put me in serious reverse for a moment.

No worries.

It wasn’t fuzz, but it never hurt to dust. I extended my duster, bent at an angle to reach the statuette, and bit my tongue for good measure. Then I moved farther down the aisle to check for any other cleaning issues in the shop.

The doorbell chimed, signaling the exit of a customer my part-time shop clerk, Eve Serratt, had been checking out. I’d caught the curious looks she’d sent my way earlier. Another shopper stepped up and asked Eve about the history of the building.

Their voices faded as my fingers trailed casually across the primary color display of taper candles, hung in pipe-organ style, each hue giving off a distinct scent. I loved how the citrus and beach scents melded with the tang of forests. Then, as I strolled toward our sales counter, I rang each overhead wind chime in turn, the resonant tones tingling my spine in a good way.

“What’s going on? You seem antsy today. Something worrying you?” Eve asked, coming to meet me halfway.

I glanced around and saw we had several shoppers, so I kept my voice soft. “You’re right. I can’t settle today. Feels like a storm is brewing.” If I mentioned I’d been spooked by a winking winged lion, she’d think I was nuts for sure. But she must’ve wondered what the thundering cats meant. Perhaps she thought the cats were playing, and Harley needed comfort instead of me.

“Ms. Tabby, do you have a minute?” a woman asked.

The voice sounded familiar, but I didn’t recognize the demure young woman dressed in shades of grey. Something about her eyes tugged on my memory. What was her name?

I kept talking in hope my memory would suddenly ping. “Yes, I do. How’ve you been?”

“Good. School is awesome, and I have a new roommate this year. But that’s not why I’m here. I need your help.”

Her name surfaced. Fawn Meldrim, the Savannah College of Art and Design art student I formerly dubbed “Blue Hair.” Only now her chin length locks looked brunette with the tips an electric blue. She’d replaced her Goth look with a soft grey tee and charcoal shorts, completed by Chucks with bright green laces.

“It’s good to see you.” My professional smile softened into a genuine one. “You’re growing your hair out, Fawn. It looks nice!”

“I needed a change. One of my summer courses focused on the value of presentation, and it made sense to update my look, so I started over with my appearance.”

“It’s a flattering cut and still gives you an artistic edge. Now what was this about needing my help?”

She wrung her hands. “There’s been a…homicide…in our family. Uncle Willim is gone. I need to know who killed him and why. Will you take his case?”

Hmm. An investigation. My relationship with the Savannah Police Department was fine as long as I stayed out of their business. “When did this happen?”

“A few days ago. Dr. Willim Rosemont is my great uncle. Or, he was. We spoke last week, and he was hale and hearty. I have few family members left, and I’m devastated by his murder. The paper reported an accidental fall, but that’s wrong. Someone killed him.”

Willim. I remembered that unusual name from a recent Savannah Morning News article. A prominent psychiatrist had plunged to his death on the Stone Stairs of Death, the flight of steps that connected Bay Street with River Street. Not for the faint of heart, those thirty-three steps gave me vertigo. I always took an alternate route down to River Street.

But this wasn’t about me. It was about Fawn’s uncle. “You have my sympathy. I didn’t know Rosemont. When did he pass?”

“Today’s Friday, so he died Monday evening. The newspaper hinted his death was a suicide, that he flung himself down the stone stairs. However, I heard someone shoved him. Another rumor implied black magic drove caused it.”

Black magic. I barely knew anything about regular magic. Worse, I didn’t know if Fawn was part of the paranormal community, but she often visited our shop with her friends, so it was possible.

Her aura shimmered with a truth vibe. I remembered the article now. Rosemont had been on Bay Street late in the evening and plunged down the infamous stone steps. Those were treacherous in daylight. We had rain on Monday night, so the stairs were slippery and dangerous. This guy had been a psychiatrist to Old Savannah. No telling how many secrets he’d known.

I itched to take the case. “Was he married?”

“Yes. But they lived apart. His estate went to his kids and extended family like me. His house on the square went to the city to become a museum. I got five grand Wednesday afternoon will reading.”

Eve drifted over and joined the conversation. “This is about Willim? I knew him. He stopped by often to shoot the breeze with MawMaw. He will be missed by many people. I can’t believe the doc’s gone.”

“He’s my uncle,” Fawn said. “I asked Ms. Tabby to find out who killed him.”

“Killed him? I heard it was an accident or suicide,” Eve said.

Fawn stomped her foot. “No. Willim was a natural-born caretaker and sure-footed. I’m certain he was murdered.”

Eve sagged against a bookshelf. “Oh, no. Willim was such an icon.”

“I didn’t know him,” I repeated to Fawn, “but I believe what you’re saying.”

Tears misted in Fawn’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“This will rattle the bones of the paranormal community for years,” Eve said. “Yes, Tabby should be involved. We need one of our own investigating.”

That answered one of my questions. Fawn had paranormal ties. The tightness in my chest eased, and I relaxed my tense shoulders.

Thanks to my late mother’s insistence on keeping us twins isolated from everyone, Sage and I grew up clueless about our psychic abilities and our peers. We still had few connections within the paranormal community. But I had an intuition for the truth, and I believed Fawn was right. I wanted to say yes, but I hesitated.

“Why does his death have such import?” I asked Eve.

After a quick glance at Fawn and then back at me, Eve leaned in confidentially. “Because Willim was on the Paranormal Council.”

The group I’d been hiding from my entire life.