Cryptic Blend

by Kennedy Layne

  Watching an expert in action is very thrilling, isn’t it?

  “Stella,” Arthur exclaimed, frustration lacing his tone as he shuffled through the door. He didn’t even give me a first glance, let alone a second. He had zeroed in on his housekeeper while holding up some type of photograph. “This was left on the front step. It’s proof there was no ring buried with my great-great-great-great grandmother. How could this be? It was documented throughout generations and generations. I just don’t understand.”

  This is Ms. Stella’s doing. I can smell her satisfaction from here.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Arthur,” Stella said with what sounded like complete sincerity. She’d folded her apron and slid it into one of the numerous drawers underneath the counter. “What proof was given? I’m sure we can have Harry double check the records over at the library.”

  The old geezer is playing right into her hands.

  “No need,” Arthur denied as he reclaimed his chair with a huff. “I’m pretty sure that imbecile Clifford left this here to rub it in my face. This here is a picture of one of our cousins named Margaret from when she was younger. Look here. Right there on her finger is the sapphire ring. All these years, the other side of the family had the ring in their possession and no one had been the wiser.”

  “Do you believe that Clifford thinks you were the one to rob the family crypt?” Stella asked without any indication she knew any different. She even came over to the table and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. “Here. Let me warm up your tea for you.”

  Did you just sense the shift in the ambiance? I’m suddenly catching a whiff of something.

  If I hadn’t witnessed the small bit of affection myself, I never would have put two and two together. It wasn’t that Ms. Stella believed Mr. Whitley was a bad man. It had never been about that at all. Ms. Stella’s crimes had all been done in the name of love.

  Hairball.

  It thought it was rather sweet. Ms. Stella had become fond of her employer, and I’m sure the two had grown close over the years after the death of his wife so many years ago. It dawned on me that Ms. Stella didn’t go to Elsie’s house to vent about Mr. Whitley, but most likely to keep up the thin veneer of a charade casting them as simply employee and employer.

  “Thank you, Stella.” Arthur frowned as he set the old picture down next to the leather-bound book. He rested his hand on the old tome that had stood the test of time in what was now easily recognizable as regret. “The fleeting chance of eternal youth is gone. Young lady, it looks as if I owe you an apology. The sapphire ring had never been buried with my great-great-great-great grandmother. Three hundred and eighty years of investment wasted. What a shame.”

  I munched on a cookie while figuring out which direction to take this conversation, because even I could still spot the loose ends.

  You could always ignore them. That usually works for me. It did with the garbage eater. I didn’t make a big deal of what you thought was a hallucination. I didn’t panic. Not in the least. I let the day run its course, and in the end that masked bandit turned out to be an ally.

  I so wanted to argue with Leo’s version of events, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Arthur, I realize that my grandmother was into holistic remedies and the benefits that can come from certain gemstones, but I’m not so sure eternal youth is one of them. I honestly don’t believe immortality exits.” I set down my half-eaten cookie to try and articulate one of the loose threads. It wouldn’t do to have Mr. Whitley pull on one and unravel this entire cover-up. “Will you speak with Mr. Meyers about the picture? How sure are you that he was the one to leave the photograph on your front step?”

  I realize that you can’t see the photo from where you’re sitting, but trust me…that mortician definitely takes after his father’s side of the family.

  “Oh, it was that imbecile, alright,” Mr. Whitley grumbled while Ms. Stella walked back to the table with a clean teacup in hand. “But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of asking him about the ring. That’s what he wants—to see me squirm. I’d be walking into his trap if I brought up the topic, and that won’t happen…ever.”

  I hadn’t been too sure that Ms. Stella could even smile, but there did seem to be a lift to the corner of her thin lip. She’d known all along how to play this situation so that Mr. Whitley wouldn’t continue his quest to find the ring. In his mind, the sapphire was useless now that it hadn’t been buried under ground for three hundred and eighty years. Of course, family dynamics played a big part in Mr. Whitley’s decision to let bygones be bygones, but Ms. Stella had known that all along.

  “I’m sure we’ll find something to do for our remaining years, Arthur.” Ms. Stella had finished preparing his hot tea before purposefully tying up the remaining loose end to give both of us peace of mind going forward. “I suppose whoever attempted to rob the grave got the surprise of his life to find that the sapphire ring wasn’t inside. Who do you suppose it was, Arthur?”

  Mistress of Manipulation. That’s what I’m going to dub her. I so need to take notes.

  It wasn’t that Ms. Stella was manipulating, but rather leading Mr. Whitley down the right path in his old age. She’d known all along that had the ring and spell worked, she would have been left alone in her old age only to lose the love of her life to eternal youth. Immortality wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, though.

  Selfish or giving?

  I guess the answer was subjective, but I still played a part in this mystery. I now had a sapphire ring in my possession that could potentially offer someone immortality. I guess it was time I learn a binding spell.

  I feel another hairball coming up.

  “If Clifford has known all along that the ring wasn’t inside the stone coffin, and it wasn’t this young lady…then my bet is on Elsie’s side of the family. She is getting up there in years,” Mr. Whitley pointed out, taking a sip of the tea that Ms. Stella had just made for him. “I’m sure she could have gotten one of her nephews to come to town to do her dirty work, but we have that family reunion coming up next year. It wouldn’t do for me to start slinging accusations around and dividing the family members into factions.”

  Getting back to this binding spell, I’m not going to be happy if I find I can’t speak afterward. You’re liable to bind my voice box. I appreciate you giving my tail a rest, but that seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?

  “No, it wouldn’t do to be the cause of more family drama, Arthur.” Stella gestured toward the book, wiggling her fingers until Mr. Whitley begrudgingly handed it over to her. “I’ll go put this back where it belongs while the two of you finish up here. It’s getting late, and you need your sleep. I’ll be back at seven o’clock sharp tomorrow morning so that we can watch the sailboat race from the patio. I’ll make us some fresh blueberry muffins.”

  Isn’t the Mistress of Manipulation just as happy as a clam?

  That she was, and rightly so. Ms. Stella had averted a disaster in the making, she had been able to keep the love of her life by her side for their remaining years on earth, and she’d done so without leaving one dangling thread. Her determination and attention to detail was to be admired.

  I’m pretty sure there’s one thread left, but the Mistress of Manipulation seems to be leaving the good ol’ sheriff up to you.

  Oh, shoot. Leo was talking about the crime report that Mr. Meyers—who still correctly believed the ring had been buried in the stone coffin with Caroline Abigail Whitley—would no doubt file with Liam regarding the missing ring.

  “Mr. Whitley, I should be going,” I announced before quickly standing from the chair. “I am sorry that things didn’t work out quite as you intended.”

  “That’s life, dear,” Arthur replied as he continued to enjoy his tea. “It’s a lesson everyone should take to heart.”

  “There’s also always a silver lining,” Ms. Stella pointed out with a glimmer in her eye, still standing at the swinging door waiting to escort me from the house. �
��Sometimes silver can be worth more than sapphires.”

  Look at that. The Mistress of Manipulation has a witty reply for everything. I do need to question her sanity, though. She’s leaving that final thread up to you—the accident-prone resident novice witch.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Monday morning had dawned with a beautiful horizon, a warm coastal breeze, and that silver lining Ms. Stella had been referring to on Saturday evening. Much to Leo’s delight and my relief, she hadn’t truly left anything up to me. She’d wrapped everything up tight with a sparkly silver bow.

  Speaking of glitter, this fairy dust kiss isn’t wearing off my fur. I can’t go through life with a fairy lipstick stain on my paw. I look ridiculous. No wonder Ivan won’t let me join in on his weekly poker games.

  “Here you go, my boy. Here you go,” Beetle exclaimed in delight, pouring some more catnip out of a tiny bag and onto Leo’s pillow that was in the windowsill of the tea shop. “This special treat is straight from Central Asia.”

  A few things you should know about my part-time employee. One, he resembled the mad scientist from Back to the Future, white hair and all. Two, he had a habit of repeating his phrases over and over, probably from dealing with a lot of older people when he’d work on their taxes as a young man. Also, he loved cardigan sweaters with colorful bowties and just so happened to be dating my mother as of late.

  I can’t talk about that latter subject just yet.

  My brain hadn’t quite accepted it as fate.

  Let’s just bypass that subject altogether, shall we? Let’s concentrate on my BFF’s special talents, and that is discovering the best premium organic catnip across the entire world. He really is one of a kind, isn’t he? Hey, I have an outstanding suggestion—let’s give Beetle the sapphire ring and make him immortal!

  No one was going to be immortal, thanks to the binding spell I’d cast on the sapphire ring. And I was pleased to announce that the spell had been generated without a hitch.

  You’re two for two, Raven. You take the wins, and I’ll take the credit.

  Leo had given the proper guidance, and things were finally looking up in the witchcraft area.

  You’re forgetting that the resident warlock had opened a small portal for the afterlife to slip through, thus allowing Caroline Abigail Whitley to sense that someone had trifled with her remains. It was a good thing Ivan had spotted the door and was there to escort her back. I, of course, laid all of the blame on Joey’s garbage-filled claws. I have two checks in the win column. He’s simply going to have to keep up.

  Speaking of wins, it appeared that Ms. Stella had found a way to tuck a replica of the ring in the lining of Caroline Abigail Whitley’s dress that she’d been adorned in before her burial. Mr. Meyers had driven to the graveyard at Liam’s request, and he’d discovered the miraculous find while conducting his responsibilities as a mortician—just as Ms. Stella had counted on.

  Of course, Mr. Meyers had assumed that someone in his family had tried and failed to succeed in the family myth. He wasn’t one to talk out of turn or seek attention, so he’d asked Liam not to make a record of the incident in any criminal reports.

  Just as the Mistress of Manipulation had predicted. She truly is amazing. I mean, not as miraculous as my BFF and his ability to discover the most delicious herb in existence, but a close second. This Central Asian stuff is the bomb!

  “My dear, Raven. Your mother took me to the most fabulous restaurant in New York City. Just fabulous,” Beetle said, beaming to the point that I was pretty sure his white hair had a glow to the ends that were sticking straight up toward the ceiling. “The food was absolutely delicious, I tell you! Delicious beyond imagination!”

  Speaking of delicious, this premium organic catnip from Central Asia might just top the minty herb from Honduras. I’ll let you know when my tongue is no longer numb.

  “I’m glad you had a good time in the city this weekend, Beetle.” I poured both myself and Beetle a cup of coffee from the carafe I’d made before flipping over the open sign, careful not to mention my mother. As Leo and I had both agreed upon, it was a subject that needed to be avoided until we’d had more time to adjust to the odd relationship. “I also appreciate you coming in early this morning. Bree requested that tea blend I’d mixed by hand for the Mother’s Day special we ran a couple of weeks ago, and it will take me a few hours to create the combination of tea leaves.”

  Raven, my tongue is still numb. Should it still be numb? Uh-oh. It’s traveling. I can’t feel my whiskers.

  “Glad to be of help, my dear. Glad to be of help.” Beetle was still standing in front of the windowsill with his hands on his hips. He did that a lot while waiting for customers and always announced when the bell was about to jingle above the door. “Liam’s headed this way. It looks as if he’s bringing you flowers.”

  I ate it all. Every leaf. I don’t know how I did that without feeling my tongue. Sweet angel of mercy, what if I’ve swallowed my tongue?

  I couldn’t help but smile at the new tradition Liam started ever since I’d incorporated coffee into the shop’s inventory. I still hadn’t changed the name of the store, and I’d made the decision not to in honor of my Nan. She’d chosen the name Tea, Leaves, & Eves…and it should stay that way.

  Seriously? I might have swallowed my tongue, and all you’re thinking about is the name of the tea shop? Get your priorities straight, Raven!

  As for Liam, he’d gotten into the habit of sneaking me coffee during the day. You see, I’d always thought it wouldn’t be good for the tea shop if people believed I didn’t prefer the beverage I was selling. I should mention that there were quite a few tea flavors that I really did enjoy, and now I had the best of both worlds. We had various coffee grinds and numerous tea blends, each as unique as our own Paramour Bay.

  It’s over for me. Did you hear me, Raven? Over. With no tongue, how am I ever going to ingest catnip again?

  Now that Liam no longer had to sneak me coffee, he’d begun to bring me flowers every Monday. The fact that he remembered every week showed me just how lucky I was to have him in my life.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you how nice it was to get to know your Aunt Rowena over dinner,” Beetle exclaimed, taking me by surprise so much that my gaze slid from Liam still crossing the street with a colorful bouquet of flowers. I must have been mistaken, because my mother and our Aunt Rowena avoided each other like the plague. “Such a nice woman, isn’t she?”

  Now I’m hearing things, Raven. Make it stop!

  “Beetle, what do you mean you got to know Aunt Rowena better over dinner?” I asked cautiously, trying to brace myself for his answer.

  An impossible feat. Maybe my BFF got a whiff of the Central Asia premium organic catnip and he’s hallucinating. Dr. Jameson has to be wrong about overdosing on this delicious treat, because the world would have to be coming to an end before your mother would spend time with that witchery, witchy, witch of the West.

  “Why, your Aunt Rowena was visiting your mother this weekend,” Beetle shared, turning to give a wave to Liam as he approached the glass door of the tea shop. I did my best to return his smile, but I’m pretty sure I failed in that endeavor. “Look at those flowers, my dear. Look at them!”

  I was too busy locking my gaze with Leo’s, whose pupils were practically completely dilated from ingesting the special brand of premium organic catnip. There was only one reason why such a visit would occur—Aunt Rowena had been successful in recruiting my mother for the upcoming war with the coven.

  This is it, Raven. The world really is ending. There’s only one thing left to do—run for your life!

  ~ The End ~

  Thank you so much for reading Cryptic Blend! There are more comical shenanigans and magical chaos coming up in Broomstick Blend…

  Click HERE

  A baffling whodunit arises while comical antics abound as USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne continues her Paramour Bay Mysteries…

  Lady bugs, bumblebees, an
d butterflies are enjoying the humid summer days and nights in the quaint Connecticut coastal town of Paramour Bay. Completely exhausted, Raven Marigold is doing everything she can to keep her cool after the town mysteriously loses power. No electricity means no coffee…no coffee means that Raven’s nerves are more than a bit frayed.

  After a bit of investigating, Raven discovers evidence that witchcraft might have been involved in causing the power outage that has puzzled the residents and left them a little bit cranky. Well, their irritability turns into straight up panic when a possible murder victim is discovered smack dab in the middle of the town’s cobblestone square.

  Bring a flashlight if you want to help Raven and the rest of the gang solve this latest blackout mystery that will have you scrambling to turn the pages until the very last sentence!

  Books by Kennedy Layne

  Hex on Me Mysteries

  If the Curse Fits

  Cursing up the Wrong Tree

  The Squeaky Ghost Gets the Curse

  Paramour Bay Mysteries

  Magical Blend

  Bewitching Blend

  Enchanting Blend

  Haunting Blend

  Charming Blend

  Spellbinding Blend

  Cryptic Blend

  Broomstick Blend

  Office Roulette Series

  Means (Office Roulette, Book One)

  Motive (Office Roulette, Book Two)

  Opportunity (Office Roulette, Book Three)

  Keys to Love Series

  Unlocking Fear (Keys to Love, Book One)

  Unlocking Secrets (Keys to Love, Book Two)

  Unlocking Lies (Keys to Love, Book Three)

  Unlocking Shadows (Keys to Love, Book Four)

  Unlocking Darkness (Keys to Love, Book Five)

  Surviving Ashes Series