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    Bouncing Apples: Parlor Tricks Mystery, #6
    Bouncing Apples: Parlor Tricks Mystery, #6
    Bouncing Apples: Parlor Tricks Mystery, #6
    Ebook139 pages1 hour

    Bouncing Apples: Parlor Tricks Mystery, #6

    By Amy Kessler

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    About this ebook

    Lacey has seen her fair share of fakes in the world of magic, and when a medium moves in across the street she has her doubts. Mr. Seesmore claims that he has a message beyond the grave for her, but Lacey doesn't believe him. When a woman hires Trace to prove Mr. Seesmore a fraud, Lacey gets wrapped into the case. With each clue revealing more and more lies, Lacey and Trace must figure out what is the truth and who is lying in this Parlor Tricks Mystery.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAmy Kessler
    Release dateDec 9, 2024
    ISBN9798230447115
    Bouncing Apples: Parlor Tricks Mystery, #6

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      Book preview

      Bouncing Apples - Amy Kessler

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      Chapter one

      Ileaned against the outside wall of the shop, the wide window beside me displaying ‘Parlor Tricks’ in an arch on the glass with the silhouette of a rabbit sitting under it. I had the window replaced a few months ago when I had a particularly good month at the shop. My neighbor Trace leaned against the wall on the other side of the window. His PI business was hopping lately, and not with any magical creatures I had summoned, thank you very much. Everything had been rather normal as of late, but today, we were getting a new neighbor across the street.

      The shop across the street was a cute little toy store until the owner had passed away and the kids had wanted nothing to do with it. It’d sat empty for the last six months.

      We hadn’t seen much activity since it’d sold, but things like curtains had appeared in the windows overnight, and the door had been replaced with one that didn’t have windows. No sign was put up yet, so we were making guesses since the changes had happened.

      I’m still guessing a massage parlor or an adult store. Trace sipped his coffee.

      I shook my head. No, we would have heard rumors about that. I’m thinking tattoo parlor.

      That could be fun. Maybe you could convince some giggly girls to get your new logo tattooed on them.

      I rolled my eyes. Maybe those same giggly girls could hire you to spy on their boyfriends.

      That would be more interesting than the last job. He wrinkled his nose. I had to trail a grandmother for an entire weekend, because the daughter thought she had a gambling problem.

      I smirked. Turned out she just had an addiction to feeding pigeons. I sipped my coffee.

      The sign truck that had been blocking the building finally moved, and we looked at the purple and blue sign hanging above the window. Sir Seesome’s Séances.

      Trace and I looked at each other. Well, he said and ran a hand through his brown hair. That was not what I was expecting.

      I frowned at the shop, something not sitting right in my stomach. Maybe it was that I didn’t want another magical person on the street, or maybe I was skeptical about someone who claimed they could talk to the dead. Or maybe I just needed more coffee.

      Lacey? Trace asked, and I glanced at him. What are you thinking?

      That I should open the shop and start my day. I grinned at him. Unless you have something super interesting for me to do.

      He shook his head. If something magical pops up on my plate, I’ll let you know. He held up his coffee cup in a salute, and I turned to go into my shop.

      I pulled the door open to find Copperfield sitting on the counter still munching on his breakfast. He looked up at me, his long ears sticking straight up, his cute little rabbit's nose was twitching, his beady little eyes staring at me. At this moment, his fur was lilac, his favorite color.

      This magical little bunny was like a mood ring. I could tell how he felt by the color of his fur. I’d accidentally pull him out of a hat. He was supposed to be a plain white rabbit, but…

      Well, a color-changing rabbit was more fun anyways. Copperfield snagged his carrot and ran down the ramp I had set up for him. I didn’t know where he was going, but I let him be. I went to the back room to get the till for the register. When I came out, Copperfield was back on the counter, his fur jet black.

      I put the till in the register and saw that a man was standing in front of my window. His purple shirt was covered by a black pinstriped vest, tucked into his black pants. I could see a pocket watch chain dangling between the two. The letters on the window blocked his face from view, but not the top hat on his head.

      All he was missing was a tailcoat.

      I glanced at my watch and then at the man. It was time to open, but with Copperfield’s black fur color, I didn’t know if I wanted to open the door while the man stood outside.

      He checked his pocket watch and then moved down the street. I let out a breath and looked at Copperfield as his fur slowly changed back to lavender.

      I have a feeling that means it’s going to be a strange day.

      Copperfield twitched his nose and snagged another veggie off the table. Sometimes I wish he could talk.

      It was not a strange day. It was a completely boring, normal day. Filled with typical costumers, occasionally an offended person, and Copperfield sitting in the sunspot on the counter. By the time I closed the shop, I wondered if I had imagined the man in the top hat. I hadn’t seen him the rest of the day. I walked out of the shop with Copperfield in his kennel with me, and Trace stepped out about the same time and smiled.

      Calm day?

      I nodded. Yep, you?

      Quiet as the grave, I got a lot of paperwork done.

      As the grave you say? A male voice had us both turning to see the man in the top hat walking towards us from across the street.

      Trace raised a brow. It’s an expression.

      The man’s round face was covered with a thin beard and circle-framed glasses perched on his nose, reminding me of old spectacles. One should not joke about the dead.

      I adjusted Copperfield’s kennel. Welp, it’s getting late, and I’m due at my parents for dinner. I turned to walk away, but the man called out.

      Wait, my dear. I have a message for you, from beyond the grave.

      I thought you just said that we shouldn’t joke about the dead. I glanced at Trace, trying to signal him to help me out of this situation.

      The top hat man looked very serious and handed me a slip of paper. They’re watching you. Danger is around the corner. He jerked his head to the end of the building. Be safe, Lacey Willows.

      He ran back to his side of the road and slipped into Sir Seesome’s door.

      Trace hmmed for a moment. Well, open it up.

      I wasn’t sure if I wanted to open it up or not. My experiences with mysterious notes typically led to someone being mad that I existed and calling me a freak.

      Trace snagged it from me and opened it up. Salazar is back. Danger is around the corner.

      The name chilled me. I hadn’t seen Salazar since I learned the walking through walls magic trick. This had to be a joke.

      Yet I glanced at the corner of the building and then looked at Trace. Glad I have someone to walk to the car with.

      Trace nodded. Yeah, we don’t need two scary warlocks roaming around.

      My heart pounded at the idea that there might be someone waiting for us around the corner, but the idea that the man in the top hat had known who Salazar was made me more nervous. Were they working together? Or was there really someone beyond the grave that wanted to warn me? I couldn’t think of anyone that would be on the other side that needed to warn me.

      Trace gave me a little nudge. Come on, let’s go or you’re going to be late for dinner.

      We walked to the edge of the building and turned the corner. No one was waiting for us, no mysterious figure leaned against my car.

      I let out a sigh of relief. Well at least it wasn’t a literal corner, I muttered.

      Trace nodded. I agree, but I’d like to find out if Salazar is around at all.

      Are you going to go all protective on me because a medium told you someone is out to get me?

      Trace shrugged. You don’t believe him?

      True mediums are very rare. I thought we went over that last time we had a case with a supposed psychic. I glanced at him over my shoulder.

      He nodded. But he knew your name and Salazar’s.

      I grinned and stood in front of my car, just a basic silver sedan. You can find my name in the same article about the event he was arrested at. It’s not that hard, Mr. Private Investigator, you should know that.

      He looked embarrassed and yanked open his truck door. Okay fine. I know there’s more to the supernatural world, maybe I want to believe mediums are more common.

      I paused at that. Do you have a loved one you wish you could talk to?

      Don’t we all? He asked and got into his truck.

      He waited until I got in my car and started it before driving off. As I pulled on to the narrow street, I thought about his words. I’d been lucky enough not to lose anyone I was close to. So no, I didn’t have a loved one to contact.

      But then I wondered who he’d lost.

      Pushing the thought out of my head, I drove to my parents’ house, daydreaming of pork chops and mac and cheese for dinner.

      image-placeholder

      When I pulled up to the house, all thoughts of a good dinner faded from my mind. My mother stood on the stoop next to a man that was far too young to be my father.

      No, he looked to be about my age, which meant my mother was trying to set me up. Again.

      That dang woman. For a moment, I debated driving off, but she turned and waved at me. The man next to her did the same. At least he hadn’t dressed up for dinner like my mother’s last attempt.

      His hands were stuck in the pockets of his faded blue

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