by Zoe Arden
Sheriff Knoxx glanced at Colt, who nodded; the secret communication of men in law enforcement. "Another few minutes," the sheriff said.
Natalie let out a huff. "What for? I think everyone knows what happened. Renee killed Randall."
Renee let out a loud moan. Natalie looked over at the window and held up one finger; one minute. I realized her husband, Bill, was standing out there looking eagerly in. No wonder she wanted to get out of here. She wanted to fill him in on what had happened. I'd somehow mistaken eagerness for grief. Still... her eyes weren't shining with the excitement of a new rumor. They looked sad. She blinked several times and it was gone. Now she looked like the normal Natalie, one eager to start spreading gossip.
"It was an accident," Renee said and blew her nose. It made a loud honking noise that made my ears hurt. I wondered if Damon knew what had happened yet.
"All right," Colt said. "You're free to go. But the bakery will have to stay closed for the rest of the day, and maybe tomorrow." He shot me an apologetic look.
Eleanor gasped. "What are you talking about? What for?"
Sheriff Knoxx stepped in before Eleanor could throttle Colt. "We don't know what happened here," he said, taking her gently by the shoulders in an attempt to calm her down. "We just don't want anyone else to get hurt. Once Dr. Dunne makes a determination as to how Randall died, Mystic can reopen."
"But that could take days!" she shouted and swatted him with her hand like a fly she was shooing away. Her eyes blazed anger. I felt sorry for Sheriff Knoxx. He was gonna have to deal with her at home, too, where we wouldn't be able to protect him.
The sheriff sighed. "Come on, Renee. You're coming down to the station with us." She looked terrified as he helped her up from her chair. "Just for a little bit," he added. She looked around for help as he led her toward the door and, finding none, dropped her shoulders in defeat as Colt went to pull the sheriff's car around to the back. There was no way Renee could go out the front; the crowd would pull apart before she got more than two steps. She was a killer now. Whether the term was fair or not, she'd been branded, and removing that sort of brand was nearly impossible.
* * *
CHAPTER
SEVEN
.
.
.
* * *
* * *
.
I don't know what sort of magic Eleanor worked during the night but Trixie got a call at four a.m. the next morning telling us that Mystic would be open for business as usual. Trixie banged on my door, letting me know to get up before going to tell my dad the same. Snowball stretched out, one long white furry leg dangling over the edge of the bed. She craned her neck up and looked at me.
"Mama go to work?"
"Yes, Mama goes to work today after all."
I scratched Snowy's head before rolling out of bed and getting dressed. Snowy yawned, stood up, and stretched out before moving to take my spot on the mattress.
"Snowy wants tuna for breakfast," she said and closed her eyes.
"Snowy always wants tuna for breakfast," I told her but she was already back asleep. I gave her one last scratch before going downstairs and opening a can of tuna. I was such a sucker.
When we got to the bakery, the line was already stretched down the block. We had to fight our way to the doors just to unlock them. Natalie and Lottie stood at the head of the line. They each had a large stepstool and were standing on them addressing the crowd as if they were the president and these people had gathered for their convention.
Natalie was speaking. "It was just inside these walls that poor Randall Coogan was killed. Murdered by Renee Tellinger." There were gasps and shouts. Natalie was conducting things like our bakery was the most exciting stop on a ghost tour.
"I saw the whole thing," Natalie said. "I narrowly averted death myself."
"Me, too!" added Lottie, her eyes shining much too brightly for five-thirty in the morning. Didn't these people have something better to do than to get up so early?
I turned to see Eleanor walking toward us, her face red. "People, please! Step aside!" Her voice was loud enough that it carried across the crowded sidewalk. "Lottie! Natalie! What were you two thinking?"
"What's wrong?" Natalie asked innocently, stepping down from her step stool. "We're building up your business."
"Our business doesn't need any building up. It's built enough as it is."
"The more popular you are, the better your chances of getting the catering job at the mayor's ball." She waited a beat. "With Randall dying in your bakery, you'll need all the popular support you can get if you want that job, don't you think?"
Eleanor's face changed. She pressed her lips together. "Well, I suppose as long as everyone waits their turn..."
We fought our way into the bakery and slammed the doors shut before anyone could follow us in. When we finally opened, people poured into the bakery so quickly that it felt like a tidal wave rushing in. People ran to the counter, demanding answers to their questions.
"Who killed Randall?"
"Tell us everything!"
"Is Renee gonna stay in jail.?"
"STOP!" Eleanor cried with a wave of her hand and the room silenced. Sometimes I forgot just how powerful a witch she was. Her voice alone was enough to make the room shake.
"Only people who are here to buy something may come in. If all you have is questions—"
"I want to buy something!" shouted one woman.
"Me, too!" shouted another. "A half dozen chocolate hazelnut cookies. No! A dozen!"
"Make mine two dozen!"
"Three for me!"
Suddenly everyone seemed more interested in pastries and cookies than they were in their questions, at least until they got up to the cash register. There, everyone seemed to think it was their right to ask at least one question and have it answered while they paid for their goods. Considering we'd only been open for an hour and had already made as much as we typically made in one week, we decided to oblige. One question per person only, though. It became an unofficial rule.
Some of the questions had more to do with goings-on at the mayor's office than with Randall's death. People thought that since Eleanor was married to Sheriff Knoxx, and the mayor was the sheriff's old deputy, she must have insight into certain things. Like a super-bridge connecting Heavenly Haven to the mainland. None of us had heard anything about it, yet several people seemed to know about it. And they didn't much care for the idea. That meant Eleanor had to answer twice as many questions as the rest of us.
All morning, I meant to ask Eleanor what she'd said to the sheriff to get him to let us open up but there wasn't time. When I went into the back for a few minutes to make some more cookie crumble I stole a minute to check my text messages and saw that Colt had sent me ten. My heart began to pound. Ten texts? That couldn't be good. I opened the first one and read it.
RENEE IS OUT.
My mind went blank. Out? Did he mean out of jail? I knew killing Randall had been an accident but still... what if it had only seemed like an accident? That had been some throw Renee had ushered to land the bear claw in Randall's mouth. What if she'd done it on purpose? Still, she couldn't have known that he would choke on it... could she?
I started on the second message but was distracted almost immediately by the sound of Sheriff Knoxx's voice from out front.
"There's nothing to see here."
I went back out front and saw that Sheriff Knoxx had made his way to the center of the crowd. He was part goblin and although he looked like any normal wizard, he had a certain way about him that stood out. Crowds tended to disperse for him, and it wasn't just because of his hulking frame, it was the looks he could give you when he wasn't happy; they were simultaneously threatening and disarming, an odd combination that really worked well for him as a law enforcer.
"Randall Coogan was not murdered by Renee Tellinger," the sheriff continued. "Dr. Dunne confirmed that for us early this morning. Renee is out and free to go about her business. I
expect everyone here to leave her alone."
The crowd looked around at each other.
"You're sure it wasn't Renee?" someone asked.
"We're sure."
"How did he die then?"
"Heart attack," Sheriff Knoxx said. I felt myself join the looks of disbelief that now flooded the room.
"He seemed so young for a heart attack," one man said, shaking his head sadly.
"Not the way he ate," another woman said, also shaking her head.
Slowly, people began to filter out of the shop. Several finished their purchases before going but several more just left. The fascination with Mystic Cupcake was over. There was no murder to solve; it was just another bakery.
Twenty minutes later, when the place was empty, Sheriff Knoxx sighed and wiped his brow with a napkin. "It's been a crazy morning," he said, kissing Eleanor sweetly. I suddenly missed Colt and wished he was here. I hadn't finished checking his text messages yet. I glanced down at my phone and saw he'd sent three more since I'd last checked.
R U AT WORK?
RANDALL WAS MURDERED.
BE CAREFUL.
A shudder ran up and down my spine. The dozen or so other texts he'd sent all spoke of similar things. Murder. Caution. Renee.
My head shot up. "Sheriff!" I held my phone up. "Colt just texted me."
He sighed. "He told you, didn't he?"
I nodded.
"Told her what?" Eleanor asked, her brow already starting to furrow. Her golden hair was tied up in a loose bun and she had on half a dozen bangle bracelets that jingled whenever she moved. She looked like a gypsy, the perfect contrast to Trixie's brightly colored tiger-striped tights and daffodil dress. I was the only one who dressed in jeans and t-shirts for work, aside from my dad.
"Randall was murdered," the sheriff said, his voice flat.
"But you said he wasn't murdered," Eleanor gasped.
My father folded his arms across his chest and tipped his head to the side.
"I said he wasn't murdered by Renee Tellinger. And he wasn't."
"Well, by who then?" Eleanor practically shouted. I leaned forward on my tiptoes. Of all Colt's texts, that was the one question he had failed to answer.
Sheriff Knoxx shrugged. "We don't know." He looked around at us and squared his shoulders back. "Not yet, that is. But we will." He had switched back to his "sheriff mode" and was now standing with his back straight, his hands resting ready at his sides.
"How did he really die?" I asked, feeling a knot growing in my stomach.
"Heart attack, like I said."
"But if he was murdered..."
Sheriff Knoxx thumped his left thumb against the butt of his gun. "It wasn't a normal heart attack. According to Dr. Dunne, Randall's heart just stopped. Nothing went wrong with it. No connections got crossed or... I don't know, nothing got blocked. It just stopped. Took less than a second."
Eleanor and Trixie looked at each other. Their eyes widened. "Dark magic," they murmured.
"Are you sure it wasn't Renee?" I asked, not entirely convinced. "I mean, couldn't she have—"
"No," Eleanor interrupted. "Not with that kind of magic."
"Your aunt is right, Ava," my dad said. "Dark magic like that can't be easily summoned. It would take a special kind of human to be able to call up magic to make a heart stop. I don't think most of them could do it, even with a wand."
Despite their protests, something gnawed at the back of my head. Witch's intuition, maybe? Whatever it was, I couldn't help but wonder if Renee wasn't still somehow responsible.
* * *
CHAPTER
EIGHT
.
.
.
* * *
* * *
.
The bakery was quiet when we arrived the next morning. No lines. No crowds. Back to usual. But something was different. There was a different feel to the place as we stepped inside. The air was thick. The darkness seemed all-consuming. The shadows looked alive as we walked in and shut the door, dancing out to greet us. Then my dad flicked on the lights and everything settled back into place, just how it should be.
We got to work quickly, trying to create extra batches of cupcakes and cookies to make up for the ones we'd run out of yesterday. Even though the crowds had only lasted the morning, we'd sold out of several items and hadn't been able to catch back up.
Without any customers to worry about, we all spread out in the back room. My dad got the ovens going while Eleanor started on cakes and Trixie on frostings. Each of us had our own area of expertise. Eleanor was the cake expert; Trixie was the frosting expert; and I was the extract expert, like my mom before me. In other words, I made all the magical extracts we put into our creations. They helped to give people a little extra jolt of something good when they needed it.
Happiness extract made people happy. Peppy extract gave people energy. It seemed like fairly simple stuff but it wasn't. Extracts needed a fine hand. Someone with attention to detail and an intuitive understanding of what the extract needed. Too much peppy powder and you could make a person bounce off the walls. Too much happy extract and they wouldn't be able to stop smiling, even when they started to cry because their cheeks hurt too much.
My dad was sort of the bakery's "go-to guy." He wasn't an expert at anything specific but he was knowledgeable in all areas and able to help each of us out when we needed it. He was also great with the customers and could ring a register faster than a bird takes flight.
"Okay, who needs what?" my dad said after we had gotten settled.
"Powdered sugar," Trixie called out. "And can you see if we have any Fluffernutter root?" Fluffernutter root extract was one of those tricky things to work out sometimes. If you ground the root up too fine you'd end up inhaling it and fall right to sleep before you could ever get your extract finished.
"I'm working on some Fluffernutter root now," I told Trixie and she grunted an acknowledgment before adding more caramel to her buttercream frosting.
"I'll take Venus chocolate then. People could use a little more romance in their lives, don't you think?"
My dad went to the pantry and brought Trixie back a large bag of powdered sugar and a medium-sized glass container of Venus chocolate. She opened the lid to the chocolate and the smell that wafted out made my heart murmur with sweet longings for Colt and thoughts of his warm lips on mine. I looked around and saw everyone with the same droopy looks on their faces.
"It must be getting old," Trixie said. Venus chocolate became more potent with age.
"I'll make up a new batch this afternoon," I told her.
"I can get that started for you," my dad said. "I just need to melt down the cocoa butter and sugar. You can add the extracts when you're ready."
I nodded, grateful for the help and relieved to have one less thing on my list.
We all got lost in the rhythm of our work and the heat from the ovens. It was still early, just on the verge of getting light outside. My mind turned back to Randall. I couldn't imagine what it must have felt like to have your heart suddenly stop. And to think that someone had done that to him on purpose... it made goosepimples break out on my arms.
"Do you really think Renee had nothing to do with Randall's murder?" I finally asked, unable to keep my thoughts buried in my brain a moment longer.
"Yes," my aunts and father all said at the same time.
"So, it was just a coincidence that she was here when it happened?"
"Yes," they said again, echoing each other.
"If you want to know the truth," Eleanor said, biting her lower lip. "My money's on the obvious suspect."
"Polly Peacock?" I asked. She nodded. "But why? What would Polly gain by killing Randall?" I was surprised to hear myself defending her but it was true.
"Who knows what that girl thinks. But I'll never be able to forgive her for trying to kill you. Not entirely, anyway. No matter how much she might change."
Trixie swatted a strand of hair out of her eyes
and looked up from her bowl. "I think it was a tourist. Someone not from here who happened upon some bit of magic... maybe a wand, maybe a potion. Something they didn't understand, though, that's for sure."
"Humans can't use wands very well without training, though," my dad said.
"Who says they had to be human? We get paranormal tourists, don't we? It could have been a witch from some other country. An elf. Maybe a fairy."
I hadn't thought of that. Trixie had a point.
"No," my father said. "You're still making it out like whoever did this to Randall didn't know what they were doing. I think they knew very well. It was planned. It was cold-blooded murder."
I shivered at the word. Murder.
Trixie's lips tightened together. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it was someone right in our own backyard. Someone who hated Randall and spent days... weeks... months planning out how to kill him. Planning to make him suffer."
"Why don't we talk about something else?" Eleanor said. "I'm getting all goosepimply over here."
I rubbed my arms and felt the hairs standing on end.
A sudden noise from out front made us all jump. It sounded like someone was trying to get inside the bakery but we weren’t open yet. My dad peeked out the door that led out front.
"I can't see anything," he said. "It's still dark out."
We crept up behind him, our heads forming a totem pole as we all tried to peek one over the other. He was right. It was too dark to see anything. The back door that led to the alley and our garbage dumpsters suddenly started to bang. We all shrieked.