Shifting and Bewitching (Enchanted Shores Book 1) Read online

  Shifting and Bewitching: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery

  Enchanted Shores Book One

  Carrie de Croix

  Brontë & Bell

  Copyright © 2016 by Carrie de Croix

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Vamping and Glamping

  You’ve Got Bear

  Newsletter

  Books by Carrie de Croix

  About Carrie de Croix

  Chapter 1

  Sadie

  Magic. Mayhem. Maybe even true love. And it all started with a kitten, a plumbing calamity, and a trip to the beach.

  I was lying in bed at 6:56 a.m. on a Tuesday, worrying about paying the $4,832 property tax bill that was due in one week for the house I'd inherited from my foster mother, when I heard a drip.

  My house was the oldest in the neighborhood, a coastal bungalow with sprawling rosebushes and a giant oak tree in the front yard, but it had a good roof. I frowned and glanced out the window. A clear sky was visible through my gauzy purple curtains. No rainstorm, then.

  Drip.

  My bed was warm and cozy, and I wasn't scheduled to work for three more hours. So instead of investigating, I pulled up my comforter, burrowed deeply, and luxuriated on my pillow-top mattress.

  Just a few more minutes.

  My house was a squat craftsman on a street lined with ranch houses. Our town, Enchanted Shores, was a small town. But because busloads of sightseers arrived daily from the city, we had more than our fair share of stately B&Bs and fancy restaurants and tourists. Enchanted Shores was famous for the double rainbows that followed rain showers most mornings.

  Drip, plop.

  I scissor-kicked my legs under the blankets and stretched. If I ignored it, maybe the sound would go away.

  My house had belonged to my foster mother, Gwen, who died last year at age eighty-nine. She'd been kind enough to leave it to me in her will, even though she had two distant grand-nephews. I'd lived with Gwen for twenty-three years, ever since I was four years old, and it was the only home I remembered.

  Gwen had always said we were family, even if we didn't share blood.

  I always told her that she was all the family I needed.

  Even though I did wish I knew where I’d come from and what had happened to my parents. I'd been found wandering alone at a theme park called Ocean World, of all places, and they never did locate my family. So I ended up with Gwen. When we learned that Gwen had cancer, and the end was near, she'd made me promise I would get a dog, so I wouldn't live alone. I hadn't gotten around to keeping that promise. Not yet.

  Drip, plop.

  Nope. Definitely inside the house. The drip was getting louder. I groaned.

  I was going to have to get out of bed.

  My problem was that the back taxes had been due within a year of Gwen's passing, and my time was nearly up. $4,832 was a lot of money when you worked as a hairstylist, even with a second job, so lying in bed worrying had become part of my life. And so had plumbing problems.

  Drip, plop, drip.

  Ugh. It was probably the kitchen faucet again. I had called Gus the plumber about it just two weeks ago and he'd fixed it too. In fact, Gus was one of the major reasons I didn't have $4,832. I stretched across the mattress and let out the kind of moan you only make when you're alone in bed and feeling aggrieved.

  But then I heard a thump. I sat up.

  Another one. Louder. Crack! Then came the gushing sound of water spurting.

  I threw off my covers and rushed downstairs.

  "No, no, no, no, no!" I cried as I pounded down the steps with my bare feet.

  It was the kitchen sink! The empty space where the faucet used to be was gushing like Old Faithful while the side sprayer rotated like a possessed sprinkler. I slid my way across the wet linoleum, waving my hands and hollering as water snaked around me, pummeling my stomach, my chest, my face.

  "Ouch! Water, no!" I screamed as I ducked. "Stop!"

  And it stopped.

  Dead. Cold. Total cessation of the geyser. The sprayer hose lay on the counter as limp as a wet tube sock.

  I froze. What just happened?

  Water dripped off the counter and pooled at my feet.

  Did my yelling make the water stop?

  "No. More. Water!" I yelled at the sink, just in case it helped.

  I picked up the faucet which was lying on the floor near the refrigerator. Maybe if I put it back in myself, I wouldn't have to call Gus. I already had a headache. I carried the faucet to the sink, but there was only a hole in the space where it belonged.

  I pulled a flashlight from the junk drawer and opened the cabinet under the sink. Oh, no! The pipes lay in a messy pile next to the spray cleaner and spare sponges. Not just the faucet, but the entire undersink plumbing set-up had come apart. A slow drip came from a gaping hole in the wall.

  I grabbed my phone. Gus, the plumber, was on speed dial. "I need you," I told him. "Kitchen sink. Again."

  He said he'd be over by ten.

  I would be at work by then and good thing too because I needed to solve this money crisis now. Maybe I could pick up some extra clients over the weekend. Maybe the town clerk would give me an extension on my due date. Maybe my boss, Marcy, would give me an advance on my salary.

  "I'll leave the back door open for you," I told Gus.

  Plumbing problems had been hitting me fast and furious. This was the second issue this month, and over the past year Gus's bills had eaten through most of my savings.

  That was why I worried. And that was why I hadn't gotten a dog like I'd promised Gwen. Who could afford dog food? Now I would have another plumbing bill. And even less money for the taxes.

  I quickly mopped up the flood; then I went to unlock the back door for Gus. Even though I locked the doors at night, Enchanted Shores was usually safe enough to leave a door unlocked during the day. As I slid back the bolt, I heard a tiny meow. Now what?

  I opened the door. A baby kitten sat on my back steps, staring up at me with the sweetest possible expression.

  Mewl?

  "Hello," I said. "Who are you?" The kitten was a fluffy little thing, black with white paws and plucky whiskers. I didn't know how to tell how old kittens were, but he looked very young. He was tiny, barely larger than my hand. I squatted down and petted him between the ears. His fur felt like velvet.

  Mewl?

  "Aren't you the cutest boo!" He was irresistible. Where had he come from? I glanced around the yard. It was a small grassy square that edged up a slight hill. No one else was there.

  "Come here, little sweetie. Are you lost? Do you need breakfast?"

  I scooped up the kitten and brought him inside. He was as light as a feather. I poured a bowl of milk and placed it next to him on the floor. He lapped it eagerly, shaking his head every few seconds to fling milk off his whiskers.

&nb
sp; Maybe the animal shelter would know who had lost him. I grabbed a banana from my cupboard and ate it while looking up the shelter's phone number. When I called, I just got a recording that said they would be open today at noon. Not that I'd ever drop him off there. I could keep him until I found his family.

  "Guess I'm stuck with you for a while," I told the kitten as I carried him upstairs to get ready for work. Although tiny, the kitten had a round belly, and when I tickled it, he purred. "You like that, little boo?"

  Mew.

  "You're a little sweetie, aren't you? I'm calling you Pudgie, just for now. Do you like that, Pudgie?"

  He hissed at me. I laughed and tickled him again, then set him on the bathroom rug.

  "Now you stay there, Pudgie." I closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower.

  Nothing happened. I tried the sink faucet. Dry as an abandoned car in the desert. The water in the entire house must be off. But why?

  This sounded expensive. Maybe if I went to the salon early, I could pick up some extra clients. I rolled on deodorant and quickly got dressed for work.

  Because I lived just two blocks from downtown, I could walk to the Shaggy Puppy, and so I did, carrying Pudgie in my arms. He was much too small to leave on his own. I thought about carrying him in my backpack, but even it seemed too large for the tiny kitten.

  One thing I loved about my house was that it was across the street from a park with a small lake. The lake was circled by a path that was the perfect distance for an after-dinner walk.

  The Shaggy Puppy was the hair salon for kids where I worked. Until she'd died, Gwen had managed it. Now it was run by Marcy, who had moved here from the city. Marcy was in her thirties. She wasn't the friendliest person in the world but she was a good manager and clients liked her. The salon had never been as profitable as it was under her supervision. Profits had never seemed to be a priority with Gwen. For her, it had been more about making a fun environment for kids.

  My best friend, Hannah, worked with me. She was the third stylist. I couldn't wait to show her Pudgie! Hannah had three cats of her own and was already a self-proclaimed cat lady at age twenty-nine. In fact, Hannah might know where the kitten could have come from and what I should do with him.

  I also styled hair at the Enchanted Shores Center for Senior Folks, but didn't have an appointment there until later this afternoon.

  As I was walking, I got a text from Hannah. Have you heard from Marcy?

  I texted back, No. Why?

  She's not here. Not answering her phone.

  Weird, I texted.

  Hannah texted back, She has clients scheduled all morning. So do I.

  I could take Marcy's appointments, which would help with my money problems, but where was she? It wasn't like her to not show up for work.

  On my way, I texted.

  Enchanted Shores Boulevard was the main drag in town, and I was nearly there when Pudgie hissed and clawed my forearm. Ouch!

  "Pudgie! What was that for?"

  He meowed up at me sweetly as if to apologize, then scratched his way down my legs and bolted down the sidewalk.

  "Hey! Come back here!" But Pudgie was gone.

  Do the words "bat out of hell" mean anything to you?

  "Pudgie! No!" I raced down the street, my heart pounding. Around me, the morning crowd was oblivious. The boulevard's red brick buildings and the blue sky blankly witnessed my distress.

  As I ran, I mentally promised Pudgie bowls of milk and belly scratches and playtime—anything to get him back. But he didn't listen to my telepathy any more than he had my hollering.

  Pudgie dashed between the legs of a man wearing a green suit and ducked between columns of texting teenagers, their shoulders rounded, heads down. I passed the Shell station, the Hair Atelier, and Donny's Bistro, serpentining through the tourists while Pudgie free-ranged toward the sand.

  He crossed the street and pounced up the boardwalk.

  "Oh, no! Pudgie! NO!" Not the ocean!

  Here was the thing about me. I couldn't go in the ocean. Not even one toe. I was terrified of that watery blue grave. But cats didn't swim, did they? He wouldn't go in the water like a dog, would he?

  "Pudgie! Please?"

  Enchanted Shores Boulevard was a crowded street, and people turned to stare at me as I bolted past them. Did anyone offer to help me?

  No.

  Why should they? I was a blond woman in leggings and a ponytail, strong and healthy. I probably looked like I was out for a run—except for all the hollering and oh-no'ing.

  I raced on.

  At the boardwalk, Pudgie veered away from a skateboard and bolted under the fence and onto the beach, kicking little tufts of sand with his paws.

  I scrambled after him, scraping my knee on the fence as I climbed over it.

  "Pudgie!" I felt tears stinging my eyes. Why wouldn't he stop? Did he want to die?

  Then, he put one paw in the water and I froze.

  I hadn't been in the ocean, ever. In my life. And I couldn't change that now, even for a precious bundle of fur. Pudgie leapt into the surf and paddled out as if he were a tiny, fluffy surfer. What did he have? A death wish?

  My heart dropped. "Pudgie, no!" I whispered.

  Maybe he could swim? I raced to the water's edge.

  "Swim, Pudgie! Swim, boy!" I ran back and forth and clapped my hands to encourage him. "You can do it!"

  Pudgie took a look at me over his shoulder and then sank into the surf. I skidded to a stop.

  I looked around desperately for someone, anyone, to come and save him. To save us both. But the beach was deserted. I saw only sand and water. It was just me and a drowning kitten.

  "Help me!" I cried. A seagull squawked at me as he flew overhead.

  My heart dropped into my stomach and I burst into tears.

  "Pudgie!" I cried out. He was gone. Just like everyone in my life.

  His little head popped out of the water; he was mewling and screaming, but he was alive!

  He was just beyond the surf's break, about twenty feet away.

  It was up to me. I had to save him. I dropped my backpack on the sand. How deep could it be? I took a step into the surf.

  Nothing happened.

  Nothing scary, at least. My foot sank into the wet sand. At least it wasn't cold!

  I waded out, pretending I was walking through a crowded sidewalk. Just keep going, I told myself. One foot after the other. And that worked until a wave slammed into me. I went under.

  Salty water filled my mouth and my nostrils, my ears and my throat. I coughed, but only sucked in more water. See? This was why I stayed out of the ocean, to avoid exactly this kind of drowning scenario.

  And Pudgie?

  Oh, now he could swim!

  He motored over to where I floundered, little bubbles escaping from his mouth. Who said cats couldn't swim? He was a fish!

  I pushed my hands through the water, but my head sunk to the bottom of the ocean while my feet floated upward. I swallowed another gallon of water. Great. I was an anchor in the shape of a woman.

  I tried to do what Pudgie was doing: kicking my feet and paddling calmly.

  When I finally moved, I only sank deeper. This was the end. I was drowning.

  I could see Pudgie floating above me near the water's surface. At least he was getting air. No need for us both to drown.

  Pudgie, I said telepathically, you did this to me but I forgive you. Go to shore, find a new human, and live a good life.

  At least I didn't have to worry anymore about the plumbing. Or the taxes.

  Then everything went dark. I couldn't tell if the salt in my eyes was from the ocean or my tears. Or both.

  And then… I died.

  Chapter 2

  Sadie

  Was I dead? I must have been. Because what happened next was not real. No way.

  A beautiful woman wrapped in a white gossamer gown floated through the seaweed to where I drifted near the bottom of the ocean, her red hair billowing beh
ind her like a cape. She reached out her arms and embraced me in a gesture that was full of acceptance and love.

  I sighed, feeling safe, then pulled back to look at her. Who? And what? She didn't have a tail, so she wasn't a mermaid, right?

  Are mermaids real? I couldn't remember.

  She lifted a finger to her lips as if to stop me from asking questions.

  "When you're ready," I heard her say, "just tell the ocean what to do. The water is under your command."

  I nodded. I didn't understand how it was possible to hear her voice when she wasn't moving her lips, but I did. I believed her too, which seemed even more crazy.

  She gazed at me with so much compassion I could barely move, and then she pressed her finger to my forehead. I felt a wave of love spread down my body, reverberating through me like a warm hug. Then she slowly disappeared back into the seaweed.

  I blinked and pressed water out of my eyes.

  I glanced up to the surface, to where I could see Pudgie's small dark form. I looked around me and tried to see the ocean as a helpful friend, and not an enemy to be feared.

  "Lift me," I commanded, and I rose up as if I were on an elevator; then I flew out into the air.

  I sputtered, but then my body settled on top of the waves and I floated next to Pudgie. He paddled his little paws.

  Whoa. I was fine. We both were.

  Now that I knew I wasn't drowning, I had a greater concern. I had lost my mind. Obviously. I'd seen a mermaid-without-a-tail and bossed around the ocean.

  But I was alive! I laughed and splashed my feet in the waves. I was so buoyant I didn't need to do anything to stay afloat. Why had I ever been afraid of the ocean?

  Pudgie and I floated. Until—"Hey, lady! Lady! You okay?" A rough hand grasped me by the neck and yanked.