Tragic Magic Read Online Free Page B

considered Carmela’s question. “You’re telling me you’re not gonna get involved? You always get involved.”
    Carmela wrinkled her nose. “I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
    “That was a compliment, cher , because you’re so good at figuring stuff out. At solving actual crimes.”
    Carmela hunched over her glass of wine. “Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.”
    “Well, I would,” replied Ava. “Besides, Melody was our friend. And we were right there. Eyewitnesses. So it feels like our civic duty to get involved.”
    “Somehow,” said Carmela, “I had a feeling you were going to say that.” She gathered up plates and bowls, carried them to the counter, and stacked them in the dishwasher. A few minutes later she returned with slices of cocoa loco pie. “Shall we retire to the salon?” she asked.
    Carmela and Ava nibbled pie and sipped wine while Boo and Poobah lay at their feet and fretted.
    “You’re not going to get a single bite,” Carmela told Boo. “Chocolate is toxic to dogs. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you . . .”
    “Hey,” said Ava. “I forgot to tell you. Thea Toliver delivered the prom dresses earlier today.”
    “Delivered them where?” asked Carmela. “To your shop?”
    “Oh yeah,” said Ava. “There’s like a million dresses jammed in my office. Its like . . . frilly sardines.” The food and wine were helping Ava relax.

    “Oh man,” said Carmela.
    Several months ago, Carmela and Ava had heard about a group of women in Alabama who’d collected gently worn prom dresses and given them away, at no charge, to young women who couldn’t afford dresses. They’d loved the idea so much, they’d decided this would be a fun, worthwhile thing to do. Since Hurricane Katrina, many families were still scrimping on small luxuries in order to pay for basics and fund household repairs—so prom dresses were still un-affordable for lots of young women.
    Carmela and Ava had approached retail stores and bridal shops and even tapped friends to donate their daughter’s gently worn dresses. Much to their surprise and delight, their idea had been met with overwhelming support. A local radio station, WNOL, had even picked up the story, doing an on-air interview with them as well as follow-up mentions. In no time at all, donated prom dresses had come pouring in, maybe even more dresses than they really needed. Two weeks from now, they were scheduled to distribute the prom dresses to young women at several area high schools.
    “We’re gonna have to go through those dresses one by one,” said Ava. “Some are in phenomenal shape and a few are kinda ratty.”
    “Sort through them and toss out any bummers,” said Carmela. “Sure, we can do that.” She grabbed the remote control and aimed it at the flat-screen TV that hung on the wall.
    Ava nodded, then turned her attention to the TV. “Think there’ll be somethin’ on about Melody and Medusa Manor?”
    “I’m positive there will,” said Carmela. “You saw Kimber Breeze flying around like the Wicked Witch of the West on her broomstick? She was practically frothing at the mouth.”
    “Like an ambulance chaser,” said Ava.
    When a picture bloomed on the screen, Carmela hit a few buttons and switched to KBEZ-TV.

    “News is coming on now,” said Ava. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”
    Carmela and Ava watched as neon lights zoomed around the KBEZ-TV logo like chase lights on a movie marquee. Then Ben Bright, the ten o’clock anchor, leaned forward with his blow-combed hair and faux-serious, trust-me expression. “We lead off tonight’s news with a bizarre tale of murder in our community . . .”
    A graphic of Medusa Manor suddenly popped on screen.
    “That’s it!” yelped Ava.
    Carmela fumbled for the remote again and jacked up the sound.
    A head shot of Kimber Breeze filled the screen. “The scene, a haunted house,” began Kimber in a hard-edged, staccato voice. “The victim, a woman with a strange