Owl or Nothing Read online

  “I thought I might run for mayor when they announce the opportunity,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice steady and casual. I swallowed hard, waiting for the cries of laughter or derision but they didn’t come.

  “Mayor Hammon sounds quite official, doesn’t it?” Silvana said as we turned the corner into our street. “Much better than Owlivia.”

  I gave her a light punch in the shoulder. “Quit it with that. You can call me Liv or you can call me Owlface. Anything else earns you demerit points.”

  “Owlface.” Dee nearly fell off my shoulder laughing.

  “You like that do you, Minnie?”

  “Hey.” A sharp tug on my earlobe told me Dee’s thoughts about that nickname.

  “If I’m not interrupting,” Caleb said, interrupting. “Can I ask you something?”

  I smiled into his blue eyes, reflecting the sunlight in a myriad of different shades, just like a sapphire. “Go ahead.”

  “You’re running for mayor?” I nodded, and he furiously jotted into his notebook. “Don’t suppose you have room for a press secretary, do you?”

  “I’ve only just thought of it,” I hedged. A car drove past, the driver tooting and waving as though he knew me. I waved back although I didn’t recognise him at all. “All positions are open.”

  “In that case, I’ll apply.”

  “Accepted.” I shook his hand. “What does a press secretary do, anyway? I have to warn you, it better not be something requiring a salary, at least until I have one.”

  “How does pro-bono sound?” Caleb asked happily. “I’ve earned enough from my last few stories to keep me afloat for a while.”

  “Making money off our misfortunes,” Silvana said, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you can live with yourself.”

  “Fairly easily.”

  We walked past a second-hand store and an item in the window caught my eye. When I jerked around awkwardly to look, it earned a second glance from Caleb.

  “That’s my—”

  “No, it’s not.” I pushed open the door, seeing my black-and-white image on a CCTV screen above the counter. “Can I look at the silver locket in your window?”

  The man hefted himself to the locked cabinet door with a grunt worthy of an iron-man contestant. When the others followed me inside, he quickly snapped the lock shut, eyeing them warily. “You together?”

  “Yep.” I followed him along the counter until he reached a clear space to display the necklace. “Can I open it?”

  “Good luck with that. It’s soldered shut.”

  Just as I expected. I traced a finger along the engravings.

  “If that’s Gabby’s, it’s no wonder you confused mine for hers,” Caleb said, shouldering me aside to peer closer. “You’ll be able to get it open easily enough, if you want to look inside.”

  “I’ll leave that to someone else. How much?”

  The man weighed it on a machine, arriving at a bearable figure. I handed my next week’s rent money across, hoping this new sentimentality wouldn’t stick around too long, or I’d starve.

  “Why d’you even want something like that?” Silvana appeared genuinely curious. “No offence if her ghost is still hanging around, but you didn’t even like Gabby.”

  “It’s not for me,” I said, holding the locket up and letting the sunlight trace the path of its engravings. “But I bet her father will be glad to have it.”

  When I’d tucked it safely away in my pocket, my stomach grumbled.

  “I’ll cook you something, if you like,” Caleb offered. “My place has enough room spare if you want to come around.”

  “That’d be great,” I said, hooking my hand through his elbow. “And I might suggest to you a story about a new type of gold-digger. A good-looking young man who thinks it’s fine to sell off his dead girlfriend’s jewellery before her body is even cold in the ground.”

  “Sounds like a winner,” Caleb agreed as we all headed in a new direction.

  About the Author

  Willow Mason is the author of Witchy (and Pixie) Paranormal Cozy Mysteries.

  She lives in a small town in New Zealand, far too close to the beach and fantastic walking trails to get nearly as much work done as she should. Until someone bestows magic powers on her, she’ll just keep hoping for the invention of self-cleaning dishes and self-washing clothes.

  www.willowmason.com

  Also by Willow Mason

  Pixie-lated (Newborn Pixie Cozy Mystery)

  A Bone to Pixie (Newborn Pixie Cozy Mystery)

  Pixie Me Up (Newborn Pixie Cozy Mystery)

  Newborn Pixie Cozy Mysteries – Books 1-3

  Selective Spells (Beezley and the Witch)

  Vexatious Voodoo (Beezley and the Witch)

  Muddled Mutt (Beezley and the Witch)

  Beezley and the Witch: Books 1-3