Free Phantom Quartz: A Stacy Justice Witch Mystery Book 6 (Stacy Justice Magical Mysteries) by Barbra Annino Page A

Gramps. “Honey, what are you talking about?”
    Gramps said, “Is it Birdie? Is she mad that I was the one who picked Sloane up? Your mother would have called Birdie, but her flight was delayed and we didn’t want your grandmother driving at night.” He bit his lower lip. “So is she mad?”
    “Don’t worry about Birdie, Gramps. I’m the one who’s angry.”
    My mother said, “Stacy, I’m going to put my bag in my room, take a shower, and then we’ll talk.”
    She started up the stairs, but I grabbed her wrist.
    She squealed. “Ouch. You shocked me.” She dropped her bag and rubbed her forearm.
    “Well then I guess we’re even.” My voice was cold as stone.
    She cocked her head, weighing my words as if she were deciphering a riddle. “Did I do something to upset you, honey?”
    “Oh, I think I’ve moved way past upset and well into fiery rage.”
    Gramps said, “Come on, now, I can’t have my girls fighting. Your mother’s had a long trip, Stacy. My bones are tired just from the drive to the airport.”
    Mom said, “Thanks again for picking me up, Dad.”
    “No trouble, sweetie.”
    I looked from one to the other. “So now you’re trying to convince me that you just got here?” I scoffed, incredulous at her nerve.
    My mother gave me a curious look. “I did just get here.”
    I swept my eyes over her. She was wearing wide-legged slacks printed with peacock feathers. A cowl neck sweater peeked out from beneath her red princess cut coat, and her feet sported pointy-toed boots.
    I frowned. “Don’t move.”
    It took me less than a minute to run back to the kitchen. The coat, boots, scarf, and gloves that Mom had discarded earlier were gone. Okay, so she changed clothes. Then she drove back to the airport and asked Gramps to pick her up. It was only twenty minutes away. It was feasible.
    Right?
    I ran back to the living room where Mom was liberating Thor from his ridiculous costume. He wiggled up next to her, thumping his tail and sniffing her hair. She laughed and scratched his ears. Her head tilted toward me as if sensing my return. “Thor is such a good sport to put up with Aunt Lolly, aren’t you Thor?”
    Thor whinnied and pawed at the air, grateful to be free of his alter ego.
    “You said that already.”
    She twisted her neck toward me. “I did? When?”
    They weren’t her exact words, but it was something to that effect. Thor danced around my mother as if he hadn’t seen her in ages and nuzzled her ear, then nibbled on her nose. Most dogs do that if you walk out to the mailbox and back—act as if they haven’t seen you in a week. But not Thor. There was a bit of Fonzie in him. He was too cool for that.
    “Can I see your passport?” The thought trampling through my mind was incredibly far-fetched, but maybe...
    She rose. “Excuse me?”
    “Just let me see it.”
    “Young lady, you’re beginning to try my patience.” Her green eyes darkened and her nostrils flared.
    I shivered. That was exactly what my mother would say.
    “Humor me.”
    She scowled, reached into her pocket and pulled out her passport. It looked legit. Had her name on it. Sloane Geraghty Justice.
    “What was the last conversation you and I had, Mom?” I handed the passport back.
    “Why on earth would you ask me that?” She studied me a beat. “Did you drink some of Aunt Lolly’s tea?”
    “Mom!”
    She sighed. “Oh, all right. I suppose it was after I got back from Florence with Pearce. I told you about our trip.”
    We did have that conversation and she had been there. But anyone could know that.
    Gramps stood idly by, probably wondering where this was going, but as a man who had been putting up with Geraghty women for half a century, he knew better than to play referee. He once stepped into a fight between the three sisters and wound up talking like Mickey Mouse for a week.
    “Mom, what was your nickname for me when I was little?”
    She stood a bit taller. “My little warrior.”
    If she had said