Read One Potion in the Grave: A Magic Potion Mystery for Free Online Page B

couldn’t help but prod him. “You’re looking a little flushed, Mr. Braxton. Are you feeling okay? How’s the ol’ ticker?”
    Steam practically billowed from his ears. “I’m fine.”
    “Right as rain,” Marjie said, shoving his buttery scone closer to him.
    His jaw set as he eyed the pastry. “I was just about to ask your lovely aunt to go on a nature hike this afternoon.”
    I nearly choked. First, the only thing growing in nature my aunt liked were weeds, and
hiking
? The word wasn’t in her vocabulary.
    “The wildflowers along the river are mighty pretty right now. But not nearly as pretty as she is,” he said through clenched teeth, patting her hand. “Ain’t she a beauty?”
    I gazed at my aunt. I wasn’t sure she’d been called beautiful a day in her life, but when you looked beyond the bad attitude, the scowl, and the unfortunate hair, her skin was perfection, and her eyes were big, brown, and absolutely enchanting. She
was
beautiful. “Yes, she is. Really lovely.”
    Surprise flared in her eyes before her jaw clenched, making her lips pucker like she’d been sucking on a sour candy. “A hike sounds wonderful. Just perfect. I’ve been aimin’ to get back on the Lover’s Leap trail for a while now. It’s been years. I think today’s the day. We can pack a picnic and make an occasion of it.”
    Johnny blanched. “Splendid.” His lips pressed into a tight smile.
    “It’s a bit hot for a hike,” I said. With these high temps it would be easy to get heat stroke.
    “Nonsense, Carly,” my aunt replied. “It’s merely a little warm.”
    Johnny tugged at his collar. “Perhaps we should wait until evening, when temperatures are a bit more tolerable for a long walk. And we’ll be sure to pack extra water.”
    Marjie shrugged. “If you think you need it . . .”
    His brows furrowed, making him look even more cantankerous.
    “Maybe while we’re there, we should jump off the leap,” she suggested. “Us being loverly and all.”
    Lover’s Leap was a spot high atop one of the bluffs overlooking Darling River. It was accessed via a three-mile looped trail that started—and ended—smack dab between Mama’s and Johnny’s chapels. The “leap” was a thirty-foot drop into a deep section of the river that was particularly popular with teenaged couples who had a bit of a daredevil side. It was a risky jump—because one false move and the leaper could miss the water and land on a rocky section of riverbank. There had been more than a few deaths there over the years.
    His chest rumbled as he attempted to laugh. “I think my days of leaping are long done, Marjoram.”
    “For shame,” she mumbled.
    He narrowed his eyes on her, but she paid no mind.
    I was suddenly reminded of the movie
War of the Roses
, and wondered if that was what was going on with them. They were out to kill each other.
    Johnny didn’t stand a chance.
    “You two have fun. I’ll see you later.” If they survived.I smiled and waved and headed into the neighborhoods that branched out from the Ring and soon turned onto my street, which had only five houses—three on one side, two on the other. Old quintessential Southern homes, with big porches dripping in ferns, gabled roofs, dormers, and prerequisite fences, some wooden, some wrought iron.
    Roly and Poly cautiously eyed a swooping cardinal as though afraid of an air raid (they were scaredy-cats) and tolerated the bumpy ride on the brick road fairly well. They were used to it. Old live oaks lined the street on both sides, creating a continuous canopy that made it look like the road wound through a leafy tunnel, and flowerpots filled with colorful annuals hung from lampposts. More cars than usual dotted my charming lane, most likely due to the Calhoun wedding and its numerous guests. But all was not scenic here, oh no. There were two blights on this lovely little stretch: My aunt Marjie’s inn . . . and my house. My place was under heavy renovations, and