A Potion to Die For: A Magic Potion Mystery by Heather Blake Page A

because I remember I’d just come from helping at my mama’s buy-one-get-one-free wedding-day special.”
    “Buy one, get one free? Weddings?”
    Nodding, I said, “A twofer. Two for the price of one.” I bit my thumbnail. “There weren’t many takers. Only two couples, in fact. Sisters marrying brothers. It was nice. The whole chapel was packed.”
    Unlike my almost-wedding days.
    He drew in a deep breath and when something in his eyes flickered, I suspected he was thinking of those doomed weddings as well.
    I couldn’t help myself from asking, “How is your mama these days?”
    “Just fine,” he said tightly. “Do you know if Marjie talked to Winston before she shot
at
him?”
    “Don’t know.” I swung my foot and made a mental note to rub some antibiotic lotion on my bramble scratches. They were starting to look red and angry. I flicked a speck of lint off my white shorts and reached down and ran my hand over Roly’s body. She purred contentedly, her tail swishing.
    Because I was feeling slightly guilty I’d brought up his mama, I said, “I heard Nelson had a girlfriend. Not sure if it’s true.”
    “Who?”
    “Don’t know who.”
    “Who’d you hear it from?”
    “Emmylou Pritcherd.”
    He grunted and jotted down her name. “She know Nelson well?”
    “Apparently he and Dudley are close friends, and Nelson was her lawyer for business stuff. But other than that, I don’t know.”
    “You’re not knowing much, Care Bear, are you?”
    I glared.
    He glared back.
    Maybe it was a good thing we hadn’t gotten hitched. Either time.
    Though sometimes it didn’t feel good at all. Most times, in fact. Especially when that wide gaping hole in my heart was aching.
    Like now.
    I tried my best to ignore it. “Did you know Nelson was working on Coach Butts’s case?”
    “It’s all the talk around town.”
    I bit my thumbnail. “Something is definitely going on with Coach right now. Something . . . not good. I can’t help but wonder if it’s connected to Nelson being splayed out in my shop.”
    “And how’d you make that leap, Care Bear?”
    I clenched my fists. The nickname was getting to me. “Just a feeling.”
    “A witchy feeling?” he asked with a hint of cynicism.
    My temper was inching up. “My feelings are rarely wrong.”
    He scoffed.
    “What? They’re not.”
    “Maybe. But they can be
misinterpreted
.”
    Not this again. I wasn’t ready to rehash failed wedding attempt number two. I’d like to just forget all about it.
    To forget how Dylan and I had run away to Georgia to elope after our first attempt at a wedding had gone horribly wrong, thanks to his mama.
    To forget how, as I stood alongside him in a sweet little chapel, wearing a flirty white chiffon dress and holding a small bouquet of lilies, I’d opened myself up to feel his energy.
    To forget that instead of feeling the same love and joy I was, I’d been overwhelmed by his doubts, fears, and hesitation.
    It had gone downhill from there, culminating with me knocking over a candelabrum as I ran out of the chapel.
    I never told anyone why I’d run out. Only Dylan and I knew the truth: His reservations about defying his mother . . . about
me
. . . had doomed our relationship.
    There was no
misinterpretation
about that.
    I attempted to keep the topic on point. Stubbornly, I said, “I think there’s a connection with Coach.”
    “I doubt Coach has anything to do with what happened with Nelson. Why would he? Word is that Nelson was about to get him off scot-free. This isn’t about your grudge with Coach, is it?”
    I ignored his implication. I no longer held a grudge against the man; I simply didn’t like him. “You should dig a little deeper. Maybe get Coach’s alibi.”
    “Let it go, Care Bear.”
    Oooh
, that name. Before I took a swing at him, I jumped off the couch and said, “Are we done?” I’d said my piece. He could go. Immediately.
    He snapped his notebook closed. “For now.”
    I stormed to the door and