Like an angry, man-shaped version of Jack’s blade.
“What do you mean, they disappeared?” he asked me again. Since he’d walked into Croakies, his handsome face filled with an expression of what could only be called impatient weariness, he’d asked me the same question couched a variety of ways no fewer than five times.
We were going nowhere. Repeatedly.
“Like I’ve said five times now, they were sitting on the table when I went to eat lunch, and when I came back, they were gone.”
Hands on hips, gaze hostile, and lips pressed tight in disgust, the detective seemed to think I had something to do with the missing shoes. Maybe he thought I’d taken them myself.
“I can promise you I didn’t steal them,” I told him, just in case his beady little brain was dancing that particular chicken dance.
Grym lifted his gaze from the ugly carpet. He eyed me for a long moment and then sighed. The expulsion of air seemed to take some of the starch out of his sails. “I’d hoped those stupid shoes were in my rearview mirror.”
“You’ve dealt with them before?” I asked, frowning.
“Unfortunately. They’ve killed three women so far. And they were nearly impossible to get hold of the first time.” He shook his head. “Don’t you people have some kind of magical holding cell or something? Those shoes are toxic.”
I didn’t know if we had one of those or not. But there was no way I was telling him that. “Of course we do. But we didn’t even get past the cataloging stage before they disappeared.”
He glared down at me. “Maybe next time you can secure them first and then fill out your paperwork.”
I glared right back, too stupid to know when I was beaten.
Behind me, the dividing door opened and closed. “Oy, Grymsie!”
The detective glanced at Alice, his gaze narrowing on her as I turned. “What’s that in your hair?” he asked.
She shook her head, the wild nest of graying brown curls dancing happily with the action. “What? Did I pick up that devil’s spawn of a feather again?” She patted the curly mass, her fingers repeatedly missing the Christmas-colored critter dancing through the strands.
I squinted at it. “What is that thing?”
Alice’s confusion cleared. “You mean Oliver?” She laughed gaily. “He’s a magical tree frog. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
I grimaced as she plucked him from her hair. The little critter blinked at us through round, black eyes, his tiny fingers?…claws?…talons?…clutching Alice’s hand.
“What does it do?” I asked, trying not to grimace. I was so not a frog person. Although he was kind of cute. In an ugly sort of way.
Alice peered rather intently at the frog. It blinked back at her. “I’m not sure,” she finally said. “The Quillerans sold him to me. They said he was very special, and that he would one day reveal his magic to me.”
I nodded as if that made perfect sense. Though, I was pretty sure she’d been taken for a magical mystery tour on that one.
Grym shook his head. “It’s never dull here, is it?”
Alice gave her peculiar snorting laugh. “Not for a minute. You two suss out the shoe problem?”
“There’s no sussing to do, I’m afraid,” Grym told the Keeper. “I’ll have to start hitting all the women’s shoe stores again. If it’s like the last time, it’ll take me days to find them. Hopefully, we’ll get them before they kill someone else.” He sighed. “I don’t have time for this. We’ve had a rash of unexplained robberies in Enchanted, and I’m supposed to be solving that right now.”
“How can a pair of shoes kill someone?” I asked, immediately regretting my question as Grym turned a hostile gaze in my direction.
“They carry the wearer into the street and get them run over by a passing vehicle.”
“Ugh…” My instincts were spot-on. It had been an unfortunate question. And his answer made me wonder why Alice hadn’t been more careful with the things. Feeling responsible for their loss, even though there’d been no way for me to know how dangerous they were, I opened my mouth and offered something I really shouldn’t have. “I’ll help you find them.”
Gulp!
What have I done? “I mean, I feel bad about losing them. I’d like to help you look.” That sounded suitably harmless, right?
Grym stared at me for a long moment and then, to my everlasting surprise, nodded. “Can you get these things to come to you when we find them?”
I opened my mouth to tell him that I had no idea. But Alice cut me off. “She’s my apprentice. Of course, she can.”
I slid Alice a wide-eyed look and she smiled. “Go on with you then. No time like the present for getting a little street experience.”
I followed Detective Grym out of Croakies feeling as if I was in an alternate universe. I was one day into my apprenticeship and already buried up to my nostrils in trouble.
The crabby cop pointed to a plain black SUV sitting at the curb down from Croakies. “This is me.”
The door of the shop next door opened, and a curvy woman with light brown hair streaked in blonde highlights came outside carrying a broom. The woman had beautiful turquoise eyes and wore a plain white tee shirt with a long, pale green skirt that danced around her shapely legs as she walked. She smiled at me and called out to Grym. “Detective. Is everything all right?”
He lifted a hand. “Nothing I can’t handle Ms. Coleman.”
I ran my gaze over the name of her shop, which was emblazoned in gold letters across the plate glass window of
