The Watchful Werewolf: Twistchapel Cozy Mystery Book 5 Read online

  Warren shifted uncomfortably, looking at me to give him an answer.

  “Oh, uh, I spilled some water earlier. It isn’t a big deal,” I said, eager to change the subject. “Do you have off for the chili cook-off?”

  “Yeah, actually,” nodded Drake, looking suspiciously at the couch for a moment before turning back to me. “They gave most of the office time off to attend it. I guess it’s supposed to make the community like us more, or something. I’m not going, so it doesn’t really bother me.”

  “You aren’t going?” I asked. “Why not?”

  “I just don’t really like the taste of chili,” shrugged Drake. “Want to catch a movie or something instead?”

  “Aw, I was planning on going,” I said. “It’ll be good for my business if I spend more time in the public eye, getting to know more people. I was hoping to see you there.”

  “I don’t know,” sighed Drake. “It’s not really my thing. I might have to pass on this one.”

  “Perhaps I’ll accompany the lady instead?” offered Warren, an amused look on his face. I wondered what it was about Warren that loved poking Drake’s buttons so much.

  “On second thought, I’d be happy to go,” said Drake, giving Warren a hard stare.

  Well, that worked out for me.

  “I’ve got some things to do here before the cook-off, so I’ll have to work on the project we discussed tomorrow, if that’s okay with you, Warren,” I said.

  “Project?” asked Bart. “Oh, you mean the dead body project. Got it.”

  “I appreciate your help on this, Miss Foster,” nodded Warren, getting up to leave. “You’ve already proven to be invaluable, as always.”

  “I’ll think more about it and let you know if I come up with anything,” I said.

  Warren waited for Drake to move out of the doorway. Drake didn’t move a muscle.

  “Ah, this again,” mumbled Warren. “What is it with police officers and acting tough, hmm? Are you dealing with any particular insecurities? It’s always good to talk about these things, you know. Don’t want to bottle them up inside. It isn’t good for your health.”

  “There are a lot of things that aren’t good for your health,” nodded Drake. “Such as continually trying to provoke the detective of a small town. Would be a shame if word got around at the station to be on the lookout for a trouble maker fitting your description.”

  “That could prove problematic,” nodded Warren, maneuvering his way around the man and opening up the door. “Until we meet again, Miss Foster.”

  I smiled as he left, closing the door behind him.

  “Please don’t do something morally questionable towards him,” I said, moving over to my desk chair. “Not that I particularly care about him. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “I’d like to think you know me better than to do something like that,” said Drake.

  “Of course I do,” I smiled. “I know he’s a pain, but I’ve got to work with him on some things from time to time.”

  “Speaking of which, what sort of stuff is it that you’re working on?” asked Drake, raising an eyebrow. “Is he also in the grocery business? He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to go into retail or customer service.”

  “No, he doesn’t does he…” I trailed off, trying to think of what sort of connection we could have that would make sense to Drake. Unfortunately, we weren’t really at the point where I could say I was a witch, and I wasn’t sure if that day would ever come. When my mother finally confided that she was a witch to my father, he left, never to be heard from again. Granted, my mother was a piece of work, but the witch thing sure didn’t help.

  “Surely you’ve thought of something by now,” purred Bart. “Your bodyguard? A therapist? An interior designer?”

  “He’s an interior designer,” I said.

  “Huh?” said Bart and Drake in unison.

  “Well, a consulting interior designer,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’ve been thinking about changing the look of some parts of my store. Maybe giving it a more rustic or homey vibe.”

  “Do you really think that’s going to work?” asked Bart.

  No, but I was hoping it would regardless.

  Drake looked past me to the wall with the floral wallpaper, slowly nodding.

  “I guess I could see a need to change one or two things,” he said slowly. “Not that you haven’t done a great job with most of the store!”

  “Most?” I said, raising my eyebrows and smirking.

  “W-Well, I mean, you did say you hired him to help you with some interior designing, and that makes sense,” he said quickly, realizing he may have made a mistake. “I mean, I think you’ve done a lovely job, Zoey. But I understand wanting to learn a few things from a professional. Not that you need it.”

  “Uh huh,” I said.

  He looked down at his wrist watch and backed up into the door. “Well, since we’re going to be down at the chili cook-off later today, I should probably go check on a couple of things. I’ll meet you there!”

  “Sounds perfect,” I said.

  Drake opened the door and gave a wave goodbye before leaving.

  “I can’t believe that worked,” said Bart, giving me an impressed look.

  “What can I say? I may be smarter than you thought.”

  “Or your boyfriend is just dumber.”

  Chapter 3

  A few hours later, I pulled my old car up to a street parallel to the town square. Thirty or so table stands were setup across the square, each with large vats containing chili for the hungry masses. Dozens of people milled around, sampling the various chili. I spotted the mayor of Twistchapel and other city officials talking with citizens, while firefighters and police officers showed children their respective vehicles.

  “Big crowd,” noted Bart.

  “It’s a pretty decent size,” I agreed, scanning to see if I could find Drake.

  “So… the concept is people make chili, and then everyone gets to eat it? For free?”

  “Basically. Wait, you don’t know what a chili cook-off is?” I asked, trying to hide my surprise. Bart seemed to know nearly everything, be it paranormal or not. It was rare to find something out of his range of knowledge.

  “Never seen one before,” he shrugged, attempting to look disinterested.

  “I’d be happy to help you out, Bart,” I smiled. “I can teach you all about that vast Midwest culture that is… chili.”

  “Isn’t that Drake’s car?” asked the cat, pointing a paw across the street.

  Sure enough, Drake stepped out of his car as I looked up.

  “Conversation to be continued,” I said, getting out of mine. I closed the door and gave him a wave from across the street. I started to move towards the crosswalk when I saw a flick of movement down an alley near my car.

  “Did you see that?” I whispered to Bart, who was just a few steps back.

  “No,” said Bart, looking down the alley. “It’s gonna look suspicious if you stay here any longer, though. You should keep moving unless you want Drake to come over and investigate.”

  “Good point,” I mumbled, continuing on my way. I spam clicked the lock on my key fob, hearing the car honk a couple of times. No way was I leaving it unlocked, even if I was just seeing things.

  “Ready to get this over with?” asked Drake as I reached him.

  “Oh, it won’t be that bad,” I smiled as we walked through the crowd. “Maybe you’ll even find some chili that you like? It can renew your love for the food.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Why don’t you like chili? Is it too spicy for you?”

  “No, it’s not that,” he said, looking down at a vat of chili nearby. “When I was younger, my family didn’t have much money. Most of our meals consisted of chili and cornbread, since that was the cheapest thing we could make in bulk.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that,” I said, placing a hand on his arm.

  “It’s nothing to be s
orry about, I’ve just eaten more than enough chili growing up.”

  “I didn’t know your family had financial problems when you were a kid,” I said. “You don’t talk very much about your past.”

  “Neither do you,” he said, smiling down at me.

  “It’s… complicated,” I said, looking at another chili station.

  “Zoey! You made it!”

  Perfect, a way to change topics. I looked up to see Marvin walking over to us.

  “I told you I would! Marvin, this is-”

  “I know Detective Drake,” he said, reaching his hand out.

  “Good to see you, Marvin,” said Drake, taking his hand and shaking it. “Thanks for setting up this event and inviting our department to it.”

  “Not a problem,” said Marvin. “So we all know why you’re here. Ready to try my famous chili?”

  “I don’t kno-” began Drake.

  “Of course we are,” I said, playfully punching Drake’s arm.

  The detective relented, and we followed Marvin back to his station. The fire department’s chili station had three vats setup, each with lines much longer than any of the others we had seen so far. Several firefighters were scooping for the hungry guests, while a few others were hanging back, talking amongst themselves. Marvin brought us to the front of the line, bypassing everyone else.

  “Which one is yours?” I asked.

  “All of them,” he said, picking up preprepared cups and handing one to Drake and me.

  “None of us can compete with Marvin, so we just sit back and let him do all the cooking,” laughed one of the serving firefighters.

  “Thanks, Jerry,” laughed Marvin.

  I took a small spoonful and tried the chili. Flavor exploded in my mouth. It had heat, but wasn’t too spicy. I could taste smoked paprika, with just a hint of chocolate. It was possibly the best chili I ever had.

  “Okay,” said Drake, taking a bite as well. “This is actually very good. I gotta give it up to you.”

  “That’s high honor coming from Drake,” I giggled. “I also think it’s amazing, Marvin.”

  “Thanks guys,” he smiled, before a bald man came up and started talking to him.

  I glanced down at Bart, feeling bad he couldn’t try any. I did a double take, looking a little closer at his mouth. It was a dark shade of purple, unlike the rest of his body which was its usual translucent blue.

  “What?” asked Bart. “Is something wrong?”

  Drake was right next to me, enjoying his chili, so I couldn’t say anything. I wiped my chin with my hand, hoping he’d get the idea.

  “Your chin itches?”

  “Something wrong?” asked Drake as I let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Uh, nope! Just enjoying this chili,” I said, taking another bite.

  “Sorry guys, but I’ve got to start sampling the competitors’ chili,” said Marvin, breaking away from the bald man. “We all have to judge each other’s.”

  “No problem,” I smiled. “Thanks for giving us the VIP experience!”

  As Marvin left us with the bald man, an elderly woman approached Drake, asking him to help her find her car.

  “Uh, yes ma’am, I’d be happy to help,” he said, looking back at me apologetically.

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” I smiled. Looks like he didn’t quite have the day off like he thought he did. He nodded and followed after the woman, who zigzagged through the crowd.

  I glanced back down at Bart, who was licking his paw.

  “Hey!” I whispered. “What’s up with your face?”

  “Like you’re one to talk!” he shot back.

  “No, I mean why’s it purple all of a sudden?”

  “It is?” he asked, wiping it with a paw. “Oh! That’s some of Marvin’s chili.”

  “What? How?”

  “Everyone seemed to really like it, so I floated over to the vat at the end. When the firefighter on scooping duty was distracted talking to a pretty girl, I stuck my head in, materialized for a second, and then popped back out with some chili before anyone noticed.”

  I looked over at the far vat, and watched as a customer walked away, taking a bite. They stopped walking and reached up to their mouth, slowly pulling a long cat hair out and looking at it in confusion.

  “Gross,” I mumbled. “Let’s check out some other chili, and this time don’t get your hair in it.”

  “I’m not promising anything,” purred Bart, trotting behind me.

  We went from booth to booth, trying out various chili that had smaller lines. A few were pretty good, but had nothing on Marvin’s. While all the chili servers had on different outfits, they were all wearing aprons and gloves.

  We approached another station, this one decorated with various plants. A woman stood behind the vat, smiling at me. Her name tag read Mary Rigoli.

  “Hi Mary, I’m Zoey. Does yours have plants and herbs in it?” I asked, taking a sample.

  “It does!” she exclaimed. “I’m so happy that you got my theme! Most people just take the sample and walk away.”

  I took a bite, which had a strange flavor profile. I saw there were small cut up purple flowers in mine, but I couldn’t place the flavor. It wasn’t bad, just different.

  “Zoey,” said Bart. “This lady might be a witch.”

  I raised an eyebrow down at him. Why would he think that?

  “Behind her to your left, she’s got a jar containing wolfsbane. It’s a kind of plant witches used to mix into their potions,” he said.

  I looked Mary over. She had her black hair tied up in a messy bun, and her green apron was covered with flower and chili residue. The woman seemed a little odd, but wasn’t giving me any signs that she could hear Bart. It could be interesting to talk to a fellow witch, if she actually was one.

  “Is that wolfsbane?” I asked, gesturing to the jar Bart pointed out.

  Mary squealed in delight, turning around and grabbing the jar to show me. “A fellow plant lover! It is indeed! I normally just show this to kids, but maybe you’ll appreciate it, too!”

  The purple plant was curved at the top, and opened up towards the bottom. I’d never seen it before, but it was a pretty flower.

  “I’ve never seen that around Twistchapel before,” I noted.

  “You wouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m from Newport, about an hour south of here, and these plants aren’t native to this environment.”

  “Oh, you like to collect plants?” I asked.

  “In a way. I’m actually a botanist by trade, so it’s my job to look after various plants, and study them.”

  That explained why she had it. Maybe not a witch, then.

  “One of the reasons I like to come to these chili cook-offs is to show people that there are more to plants than they think! From plants that can be used as ingredients in food, down to plants like these, that can kill you.”

  I chocked on my next spoonful.

  “K-Kill you?” I asked, staring down at my chili again in horror. Had I eaten enough to be poisoned?

  “Don’t worry,” she laughed, putting the jar back behind her. “The flower in your chili is lilac, not wolfsbane.”

  “Good to know,” I smiled, relaxing some. I didn’t think learning what other deadly plants she had would make me feel better. “Thanks for the chili!”

  We walked through a few more stations, occasionally skipping some who’s lines were too long. With so many options to choose from, I wasn’t going to wait around all day just for one. At one of the stations, I finally found a chili that nearly rivaled Marvin’s. Nearly.

  “This is probably the second best chili I’ve had!” I said, looking down at the scooper’s name. It read John Lorden. John had on a pair of glasses and was balding, but trying to fight it. Long strands of hair laid over the top of his head in an attempt to look like a full head of hair. It wasn’t working. He had on a pure white apron, which looked like food never hit it.

  “Second best,” he said, nose twisting. �
��And who would have the best?”

  “Uh… Marvin the firefighter’s?” I said. I didn’t expect him to get so angry at a compliment.

  “Of course it’s Marvin’s,” he said, slamming his fist on the table.

  “This seems to be going well,” said Bart, smiling up at me.

  “Do you guys know each other?” I asked.

  “Of course we do!” shouted John, even though he was just a foot away from me. “He beats me at every one of these blasted cook-offs!”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Is it really that big of a deal, though? Aren’t these supposed to be community events?”

  “I’m not even from here! I’m from Ravendale!” he said, ripping his apron off and storming away.

  “Yeesh,” said Bart. “Who peed in his chili?”

  “Hopefully no one,” I said, glancing down at my cup.

  We moved along to the last of the stands that I hadn’t checked out yet. A man stood behind his vat of chili, patiently looking around as people walked by. He had brown hair and brown eyes, and had on a blue apron with some chili splotches.

  “Hi there,” I smiled, extending out my hand. “My name’s Zoey Foster.”

  The man looked down at my hand for a second, before ultimately shaking it.

  “The name’s Lucas Stoddard. I appreciate it but… I’m married.”

  “I’m sorry?” I asked, confused by what he meant.

  “Look, Miss Foster, I appreciate the compliment of trying to chat me up because you think I’m attractive but… I’m married,” he said, holding up his left hand to show me his ring.

  “He thinks you’re hitting on him!” howled Bart with laughter. The cat clutched his side and rolled on the ground

  “N-No, no,” I said, feeling my face turn red as ever. “I was just trying to introduce myself to be friendly, not because-”

  “It’s okay, Miss Foster. It happens all the time.”

  I figured I’d just drop it. Did he think every woman approaching his station today was hitting on him?

  Lucas handed me a cup of preprepared chili, adding, “Here you are, Spinghill’s finest chili.”

  “Oh, you’re from Springhill?” I asked, taking the chili. I hadn’t been to that town in years. “So many people from different towns are here, I’m pretty surprised.”