“Are you going to stand there or go inside?” Dash whispered.
“It’s not my room,” I hissed back at him.
When I’d inherited the house, I didn’t feel comfortable taking over Tipper’s space, so I’d offered it to Beau. And even though he stayed with me rent-free, it didn’t feel right to barge into his personal space.
Not wanting to lose the effects of my spell, I knocked on the door and waited. When no one answered, I placed my hand on the knob and threw the door open into the one room with no lights on.
“Beau? You in here?” I checked. With no response, I stepped inside.
Ben flicked on the light, and I navigated around the piles of clothes my roommate had pulled out before.
The strength of my spell wavered again, and I hurried to follow the thread before it extinguished like a blown-out candle. Concentrating hard not to lose the link, I closed my eyes and trusted my friends not to let me fall.
“Um, Charli,” Ben interrupted. “I think something might be a little off.”
When I opened my eyes, I stood in front of the toilet of my roommate’s bathroom.
The last of the golden bond winked out of existence. Closing the lid on the toilet, I collapsed on top of it. “Sweet honeysuckle iced tea, I thought for sure my magic wasn’t broken anymore.”
“Charli?” a deep muffled voice called out.
I looked at the two men with me in confusion. “Did you say something?”
“Wasn’t me,” claimed Ben.
Dash pointed at my pocket. “I think it’s coming from your pants.”
“Oh!” I pulled out the small compact mirror I’d carried with me and opened it. “Mason,” I gushed in relief.
The face of the detective tilted. “Where are you?”
“In Tipper’s bathroom. Well, Beau’s now. Ben and Dash are trying to help me find something my great-uncle might have hidden.” Turning the compact around, I showed him my companions.
Dash held up two fingers in a slight wave. “Hey. Charli’s doin’ all the heavy lifting here.”
Ben waved, and I redirected the mirror at me. “Except it didn’t work. I’m currently sitting on top of the toilet with nothing to show for my efforts.”
“In my experience, the bathroom is a great place to hide things,” Mason said. “Check all the cabinets and underneath things. There was one guy who even sewed drugs into the seams of the shower curtain.”
Dash and Ben crammed themselves into the small space, following the detective’s advice but turning up nothing. The wolf shifter knocked over a bottle of cologne in his search, and the stench of bay rum filled the room.
“Well, that’s it for my ability to sniff something out.” He waved his hand in front of his face and left to get some air.
I stared at Mason’s face to find some solace in my failure. “Before we pass out from the scent of bay rum, let’s go downstairs and let me try again.”
Standing, my fingers pressed on the lever and flushed the toilet out of pure habit. As the sound of the water drained out, Mason spoke up. “Have you checked the inside of the tank? That’s a classic hiding space.”
Removing the few knickknacks off the back of the toilet and setting them aside, I lifted the porcelain lid and peered inside.
“I don’t believe it.” Reaching a hand inside, I gripped the clear plastic wrapped around something and freed it from the tape attaching it to the upper portion of the tank. I held it up for Ben and Dash to see, then showed it to Mason through the tiny mirror.
“You’re lucky there wasn’t some sort of wonky spell trap on it,” the detective admonished.
I shook my head, rotating the contents in my hand. “I don’t think he would have cursed this. It has my name written on it.”
“That’s way too small to be anything official,” Ben commented, leaning over me to get a closer look.
Placing the compact on the edge of the sink and adjusting the mirror so Mason could still see, I unwrapped the plastic and held tightly to the item Tipper had meant for me, my heart racing.
A string was carefully tied around a roll of parchment. With nervous fingers, I fumbled until I loosened the twine and unwound the paper. A small key clattered to the floor, but I focused on the words scrawled in Tipper’s handwriting:
My darling Charli, you’re number one
Don’t stop the search until you’ve won
You’ll charm the hurt and harm away
Those out to cheat, you’ll keep at bay
I leave to you a stolen key
To ensure your future remains free
And in the end, you will succeed
And justify my every deed
I’ve always believed in who you are
You’re like your mother, a shooting star
You’re a rare find, a precious gem
More valuable than all of them
Forgive an old man and his tricks
And how he gets his little kicks
He knows that you will see this through
Because he’s always believed in you
It took me reading the verses out loud three times for my annoyance to bloom into anger. “What in the world does all of this mean? And why would he be so cryptic?”
My two companions in the room stayed silent, puzzled by my uncle’s motives. Ben asked to hold the parchment and check it over while Dash peered over his shoulder, his mouth moving while he read through the words.
“Honestly, I think Tipper knew that only you would find it,” Mason said through the compact. “And maybe he wrote it in verse because that’s how you spellcast.”
“That’s cute and all, but it doesn’t tell us what to do with this.” Bending down, I picked up the small key. “Or what it goes to? I mean, if he stole it, then whatever it opens might not even be here.”
Ben held up a
