Shifting and Bewitching (Enchanted Shores Book 1) Read online

  Another hand pulled Pudgie away. As we were hauled out of the surf, I swallowed a mouthful of water and began to sputter as it went up my nose.

  I was tossed on the beach, landing on my rear end in the wet sand. The tide had gone way out while we had been in the ocean, and we were a good thirty feet away from my backpack.

  A strange, small man peered into my face. Fair hair. Crooked nose. He wore striped board shorts. "You okay, lady?"

  I couldn't speak, coughing through the water. My head felt like it was about to explode.

  The small man gestured to the other man, this one huge. And handsome. "Let's get them inside."

  "I got her," the huge man said. He hoisted me up while I clutched Pudgie to my chest. He marched toward town. I scooped up my backpack as we passed.

  "Put me down! Stop it! I'm fine," I said as soon as I could speak.

  He patted my back like I was a child with a boo-boo.

  "Shhh," he cooed as he cradled me. "Everything's gonna be all right." He carried us over the sand, across the street, and inside the Hair Atelier.

  The huge guy set me gently in a styling chair. I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose. Then I grabbed another and wiped Pudgie's face.

  "I'm Eddie Cooper," the small man said as he closed the front door and walked over, "and the Hair Atelier is my place. Just bought it last month. Welcome. You okay?"

  I nodded.

  "Look what the cat dragged in!" Eddie announced to the salon. "Gentlemen, we pulled her out of the surf. We saved the young lady's life."

  "Come on now," I said, wringing out my hair. That seemed to be more than a little exaggeration. Eddie handed me a towel. I wrapped it around Pudgie, who gave me an angry mew. I did my best to sop up the sandy water dripping off me. But really? I was just making more of a mess.

  Hair Atelier was several jumps up the economic scale from the Shaggy Puppy. The place was packed, mostly with men in athletic wear, although there were also a few well-put-together women.

  "I'm Nate," the huge man told me. "Don't mind Eddie. He believes in entertaining his customers. Or 'guests,' as he calls us."

  Nate was about six foot five and his muscles were better defined than the nouns in my Webster's dictionary.

  Simply put, he was a dreamboat. Blue eyes. Blond hair. Chiseled jaw. Even dimples, for goodness' sake. Male beauty? It was like a cherry on top of a brownie sundae that was already drenched in real whipped cream. And ice cream. And sugar. Who made men so beautiful? It wasn't fair.

  Not that I was complaining. Okay, I guess I was complaining. But I didn't mean it. I was just trying not to swoon over Nate and embarrass myself.

  "Nate?" I said, smoothing back my wet hair. I didn't bat my eyelashes at him. Honest.

  I wanted to point out that I'd been managing just fine in the water, but Nate was too handsome to correct. His poor teachers. How had he ever graduated from high school?

  I clutched Pudgie to my chest. The little monster was surprisingly placid now, content to be a good kitten after all.

  "Thank you, Nate," I said.

  "It was Eddie here that got me to the beach," Nate said. "I'm just the muscles of this operation."

  "Muscles." I stared at his arms. The T-shirt sleeves above his biceps were like curtains covering a fine work of art.

  "I just found this kitten on my doorstep," I announced to distract myself. "And he ran into the ocean! Who ever heard of a cat that swims?" I still couldn't believe it.

  "Not me," Nate said, chuckling. "A dog, yes. But never a cat."

  "Thank you. Yes," I said, glad for his support.

  Oh, no! Hannah was waiting for me. I texted her that I would be late.

  That's okay, she texted back. Marcy's first two appointments cancelled. Just get here when you can.

  The pure brightness of the Hair Atelier was startling—mirrored walls, white tile floor, brilliant chandeliers hanging every six feet and lighting up the space like a cathedral. Two champagne-colored leather couches were shaped like luscious female bodies, preserving their modesty with strategically placed sequined velvet pillows. A golden coffee table and a work table with white desktop computers completed the lush space.

  Every single customer looked rich, with well-trimmed hair and smooth clean clothes. Nate had on a running outfit with more swoops and swirl logos than a Nike store.

  I rose to my feet and sloshed my way past them, my leggings having turned into a sodden mess. I had to go home and change and then get to work.

  All the men turned to look at me as I passed.

  Rather, the men turned to look at my chest.

  I looked down. Yup.

  My white T-shirt had become as sheer as wet tissue paper, and the pink bra I'd worn this morning because my nude one was in the wash was visible and annoyingly pink. Pudgie was kneading my chest with his little claws and piercing my flesh, but he was the only thing between me and a peep show, so I clutched him closer.

  "Ouch!" I screamed when he got in a particularly painful stab. He slid down my arm, scooted across the floor, and flew into Nate’s arms.

  I glared at the kitten. Moody little beast.

  Now that he was out of my arms, Pudgie was calm again. Not terrified, not alarmed, not running like a banshee or scratching anyone.

  I wrapped my arms across my chest. So what if my T-shirt was ruined? "We need to go. Thank you for rescuing me and Pudgie." I had to get ready—again—for work.

  "Pudgie?" Nate asked incredulously. "Is that his name?"

  "Pudgie!" Eddie snorted. "Nate, you're holding an animal named after a pound of flesh."

  "And it's a dude?" Another man chortled. Laughing Man was sitting behind the front desk and a computer monitor. He must have been the receptionist.

  I didn't see what was so funny. Pudgie was a good name for a kitten. Especially one with a chubby little belly.

  "Name a guy something like that? No wonder he was running away from you," Eddie said.

  I felt heat creep up my chest and face. I bit my tongue. I didn't even know these men, and they were judging me? "Pudgie, come here, kitten."

  "My name is Nate," the gorgeous man reminded me. "And you are?"

  I felt like a snot-nosed kid but I knew I didn't look like one. Almost every wall in the place was covered in mirrors that told me that. All these men saw was a young blond woman with curves and a very messy ponytail. "I'm Sadie." I pulled my hair out of its elastic band and shook my head.

  Eddie stormed over to peer at my face like he was memorizing my features.

  "What's your last name?" he asked, with an elated expression.

  "Summer. Sadie Summer."

  Eddie nodded as if this confirmed his suspicions about me. "I've seen you around the neighborhood, right?"

  "I work up the street." This day was turning into a disaster. The men were still staring and laughing at me like I had been hired to entertain them. I had to get out of there. "All right. Fun's over. Give me the kitten." I walked over to Nate and held out my hands.

  He smiled at me in an infuriating way, with crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and twinkling lights in his baby blues. I couldn't help but smile back.

  "This is Pudgie. You're Sadie. Where do you work, Sadie?" he asked.

  "I work at the Shaggy Puppy salon."

  "Oh, the competition!" Eddie said. "Are you a stylist?"

  I nodded. The Shaggy Puppy was definitely not competition for this place. Except for the fact that we both cut hair, Shaggy Puppy had nothing in common with the Hair Atelier. Our brightly colored walls and pint-sized chairs deterred most potential clients over the age of twelve.

  "You should enter the contest!" the receptionist said. "I'm Ray, by the way." He was still chuckling at me. It was beyond annoying.

  "What contest would that be?" I asked with an edge.

  "We're having a hairdo-off and the winner will get that chair." Ray pointed to a big styling chair in the back of the shop. A giant purple ribbon was tied across the chair as if it were someone's fab
ulous birthday present.

  "What's the cash value of the chair?" Maybe I could sell it and pay my tax bill.

  "No, you get the chair to work in. The winner of the contest gets to work here with us!" Ray said with a smile, as if anyone would be honored to be given the chance to work at the Hair Atelier.

  "Work here?" I grimaced. I already wanted to leave and never come back.

  "A hairdo-off is like a dance off, but with haircuts. We want to bring new talent to the salon," Eddie explained. "You should enter."

  It still sounded weird, like something out of a Zoolander movie. I shook my head. "I already have two jobs. I cut kids' hair. And senior citizens."

  "Did you graduate from beauty school?"

  "Of course." I really wanted to leave. "I just want the kitten back. My clothes are sandy. I'm damp and cold. Believe it or not, we weren't drowning. We were fine. And I really don’t appreciate being bossed around by a bunch of strangers."

  "Oh, spunky too!" Ray said. Now I officially hated the guy.

  "Here you go," Nate handed me Pudgie. "I'm sorry, Sadie. We can get a little carried away, but we mean well."

  I took the little fluff ball from hell and smiled at Nate. How could anyone stay mad at either one of them?

  "If you'd really prefer it, you could have a cash value of five thousand dollars for winning the hairdo-off," Eddie said. "Just think about entering the contest, okay?"

  "Okay, geez." Why was it such a big deal to him?

  "And now, gentlemen, I run," Nate said, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms overhead. "Lovely to meet you, Sadie." He sprinted out the door.

  Five thousand dollars. It was the perfect amount.

  "Wanna sign up?" Eddie asked.

  "Maybe," I said. If I couldn't get an advance from my job, I might have to give this a shot. "What do you need?"

  "Just be here tomorrow night at six."

  "Actually, I need you to fill out a form but my printer is on the fritz," Ray said. "Stop in tomorrow morning, okay?"

  I nodded.

  "Ready to go home?" I asked Pudgie, giving him a kiss on the top of his head as we left. I needed to shower. "No more funny business, okay, kitty?"

  I stroked Pudgie behind his ears as he licked his paws. "Feeling better? What's going on in this little skull, Pudgie-man?" He purred. I was getting attached to the little sweetie.

  This was such a strange morning. Could I have had some sort of hallucination caused by nearly drowning? I mean, I didn't really have control over water, did I? That was crazy. Although it would explain what had happened this morning in my kitchen. I'd told the water spurting out of the sink to stop, and it had.

  As I walked home, I wondered if Marcy had shown up. I texted Hannah and asked, but she didn't respond, so I turned around to head to the Shaggy Puppy.

  I hoped the day would settle down. But I had a feeling everything was about to get worse.

  Where was Marcy?

  Chapter 3

  Sadie

  The Shaggy Puppy storefront was striped with bright primary colors and plastered with dog murals.

  Inside was a blue ceiling. Cheery red cabinets. Yellow sinks as bright as the sun. The salon chairs were shaped like different breeds of dogs: A Labrador, a poodle, a pug. My favorite was the Chihuahua chair although only young children could sit in it because it was so tiny.

  When I walked in with Pudgie, the first thing I noticed was that Hannah had changed her hair again. Last week it had been white blond, and now it was black, with a violet streak over her left ear. She was busy sweeping the floor around her styling chair. Her client must have just left.

  "Love the purple," I said.

  "Oh, good, you're here!" Hannah was a few years older than me and we'd worked together for three years. I couldn't imagine the Shaggy Puppy without her. Her hairstyle changed most weekends. Her arms were decorated with tattoos. She made me laugh every day. I'd do anything for her.

  Hannah swept small piles of red curls into a dustpan. She must have just finished one of the Stewart children.

  "Any word from Marcy?" I dropped my backpack at my station and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Yikes! I was a mess. I pulled a strand of seaweed out of my extreme beach hair.

  Hannah looked up and took in my appearance.

  "God, what happened?" Hannah asked. "You're all wet."

  I held up the kitten. "Pudgie happened."

  "You got a kitten!" she squealed.

  He mewed. He looked as adorable as a YouTube kitten.

  "Or maybe he got me? He appeared at my house this morning, begging to come in."

  "Oh, God. He's so cute." She set aside the broom and came for him, wagging her fingers. "Gimme. Gimme."

  I let her take him and turned back to my hair, finding another piece of seaweed. "He went in the ocean. I had to save him."

  "God, no! The ocean?" Hannah knew all about my fears. She rained a flurry of kisses on Pudgie's head. "What a naughty kitten!"

  He closed his eyes and mewed, then looked over at me pathetically.

  "Since when do cats like to swim?" she admonished him.

  I nodded. "He's a regular Michael Phelps. But I managed to not drown. Barely."

  "What a surprise. Millions of people swim in the ocean every year. And now so have you." She grinned, a mischievous smile lighting up her face.

  "Yes, I'm very proud."

  She wagged her index finger up and down at me. "Little tip? Next time wear a swimsuit."

  "A certain runaway kitten left me no time to change." I sprayed cream rinse in my hair and got out a comb. I hated snarls. This was going to be painful.

  "So you punished him for making you swim by naming him Pudgie?" Hannah shook her head at him. "That explains it."

  "Pudgie is a cute name. Come on." I started on the ends of my hair, combing quickly and grimacing. "Where's Marcy?"

  "I haven't heard anything yet. It's weird, right?"

  "Definitely."

  "Did you try her home number?"

  "I tried all her numbers. Nothing."

  "She'll probably show up," I said, based on nothing but hope and optimism.

  Just then, the chimes over the door rang, and we turned to see the chief of police, Cormac Sweeney, walk in.

  Hannah and I froze. What was he doing here? He didn't have kids.

  "Hello, ladies," he said with a frown. Cormac was in his late forties. He wore a navy policeman's uniform with a gold badge over his left breast. I knew Cormac because he'd been friends with Gwen and used to have dinner with us every few weeks, although the last time I'd seen him was at Gwen’s funeral. "Afraid I have some bad news."

  "Was Marcy in an accident?" Hannah asked with a worried expression. "It was her car, wasn't it? I told her to get those tires looked at."

  He shook his head. "No. Not her car."

  I waited. I'd never seen Cormac look so grim.

  He glanced at the floor, then straight up at me. "Marcy Rawson is dead."

  "What?" I sat down. "What happened?"

  "I'll need to ask you both a few questions, one at a time. Is there a private office we can use?"

  I pointed to the break room. "We can go in there." Hannah and I both nodded. We looked at each other with frightened expressions. What could have happened to Marcy?

  "Sadie, my men are right behind me. They want to search the salon. Do I need to get a warrant?"

  "No. Of course not." I glanced at Hannah. She didn't mind, did she?

  "Go right ahead," Hannah said.

  I didn't even know who was in charge of the Shaggy Puppy now that Marcy was gone. When Gwen got ill, she brought Marcy on board and introduced her as the new manager. I knew that Gwen hadn't owned the salon. She'd managed it for a group of silent investors and I'd never met any of them. I didn't even know their names, but maybe I could find out.

  "Do you want to go with Cormac first? I'll let the officers in?" I said.

  Hannah nodded and took my hand. We both gave a squeeze.


  "I guess I should close the shop for the rest of the day."

  "Yes," she agreed, nodding. Hannah looked like she was in shock, her face pale and her eyes wide.

  "Do you want me to make you some tea, honey?" I asked her.

  She shook her head. "I'll do it."

  "You can open back up after the team is done, Sadie. No need to ruin the day's business," Cormac added.

  While Hannah and Cormac went into the break room, I walked to the front door and turned the sign from Open to Closed. I poked my head out the door and looked up and down the street. The police team wasn't there, so I dashed back to Marcy's office and slipped inside, flipping on the light switch.

  I needed to find out who owned the Shaggy Puppy.

  Marcy's office was the size of a small walk-in closet, with just enough space for a desk, a filing cabinet, and two chairs. A blank white board covered most of the wall; two black markers magnetized near the top looked like giant insects. Marcy hadn't been the neatest person in the world. The space behind her desk was usually piled with papers and clothing, but today her office was as clean as a whistle. Except for one book, the desk had been completely cleared off. I didn't see even a speck of dust.

  The leather-bound book lay wide open on the desk, yellowed pages marked with a highlighter. I'd never seen the book before. What was it? Since the police were investigating, I knew I shouldn't touch anything, but maybe I could just take a peek. I walked around the desk.

  The book was the size of a laptop computer. Scribbled in pencil across the top of the page was Implements and Their Uses–Gabriel. The page had one paragraph highlighted. I leaned over to read the text, but I didn't understand a word of it. It seemed to be written in some ancient or foreign language.

  What had Marcy been up to?

  The front door chimed. The police must have arrived. I glanced around the office, but didn't notice anything else unusual.

  I rushed out to greet the officers, but they weren't there. Only Cormac. He closed the front door and turned to me. Through the window I saw Hannah hurrying up the street.

  "Where's Hannah going?" I asked.

  "She said she was going home for the rest of the day. She said she'd text you."