Witch You Wouldn't Believe (Lemon Tea Cozy Mysteries Book 1)

by Lucy May

  “I want to know what’s happening in that factory.”

  George Cannon smiled. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get on board. Those witches have been practicing magic in that factory for a long time. Dale has been researching that area for quite a while. We finally managed to convince the producers of our show to let us follow up on the lead.”

  “What kind of research?”

  “There have been tales coming out of Lemon Bliss for centuries. Did you honestly think all those stories were based on rumors? There is a grain of truth in every rumor, Sheriff. The key is to pick it apart until you find that little nugget of truth. Once you find it, you dig in. Dale and I were on the brink of uncovering the truth before he was so unceremoniously killed,” he spat with a shake of his head.

  “He wasn’t killed. His death was an accident. There was a witness,” Harold said, keeping his cool.

  George guffawed, not hiding his anger in the slightest. “Do you actually believe that? Let me guess: one of those little witches told you the story.”

  Harold kept his expression calm, refusing to let it show he had his own questions about whether Lila had been honest with him. “I said there was a witness. I don’t need to tell you the details.”

  “And I don’t need to tell you the details of what we uncovered in our investigation.”

  Harold took a deep breath, quickly considering what he should reveal. The man could have nothing; or he could hold the key to uncovering the many strange happenings in Lemon Bliss.

  “Lila. Lila was spying on you guys. I have the surveillance footage from the cameras you set up. Did you get the chance to review the footage at all?”

  George nodded his head. “Yes. The tapes you have are not all of the tapes. We made copies. We have more tapes with more evidence.” A sly grin crossed his face. “We have the actual evidence.”

  “What evidence?” Harold asked, intrigued by the idea of seeing what he had long suspected.

  “I wouldn’t want to reveal the whole show.”

  “You’re moving forward with the show, even after what happened to Dale?”

  George shrugged a shoulder as if his friend’s death was just something that happened. That disturbed Harold, but he was more than curious to learn what they had uncovered.

  “Of course, we’re moving forward. Dale’s death has been the best publicity we ever could have asked for. There is more interest in this episode than any we’ve ever had in the past. I’ll be taking the lead from this point forward.”

  Harold stared at the man, horrified by the realization that George had gained from Dale’s death and was capitalizing on it. “When will it be aired?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m still working on a few details. I want to make sure the public gets the full story. I’d hate to leave anyone hanging,” George offered with a wink.

  “Maybe I can help you out with those details. We can compare our evidence,” Harold said, hoping to persuade the man to join forces. At this point, he wanted to be able to monitor George with his concern about George’s motivations growing by the minute.

  George appeared to think about the offer. “How do I know you have anything of value to add?”

  “I’ve lived in Lemon Bliss all my life. I went to school with those women, and I’ve seen a lot. I haven’t talked about it or made a television show about what I’ve seen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything.”

  “I can show you some of the footage I have. Dale’s notes are very interesting as well. He interviewed the ex-husband of one of them, too. That was a very interesting conversation,” George explained.

  Harold’s face paled a bit. “He did what?”

  George nodded. “Oh, you didn’t know that, did you? He also tracked down the ex of a young woman named Daphne.”

  “Magnolia’s daughter? What’s she got to do with any of this? She isn’t one of them,” Harold countered, starting to feel uncomfortable with the direction this was going.

  George shook his head slowly. “You don’t know nearly as much as you think you do, Sheriff.”

  “Tell me,” he muttered, biting back his frustration. “Who do you think they are?”

  “This isn’t something I can just explain. You need to see to believe. You need to have an understanding of the supernatural. If you have a closed mind, it will never make any sense to you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Come back to my office in New Orleans. You couldn’t possibly understand what’s on the tapes if you don’t understand how the supernatural works. There are signs you have to know to look for. What may appear normal to you is really anything but,” he explained.

  “How do I know I can trust you? What makes you such an authority figure on the subject?”

  George smirked. “Haven’t you seen the show?”

  Harold wrinkled his nose. “As if any of that stuff is true.”

  “Oh, but it is. For too long, society has taught us that it’s all make believe. It isn’t. Supernatural beings have been forced to go underground, to hide themselves for fear of prosecution, or persecution. My job is to ferret them out. I don’t want to hurt them. My viewers don’t want to hurt them. We are generally curious about them. However, those women in Lemon Bliss crossed a line. We only wanted to talk to them,” he said, shaking his head in what Harold believed was a feigned sadness.

  Something about the man made him uneasy. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was there. Thirty years in law enforcement had honed his own intuition. Gut feelings were part of the job and his gut told him this man was not who he claimed to be.

  “I’d like to see what you have. Maybe I can offer you some insight to some of those stories,” Harold offered, hoping to put the man at ease.

  He didn’t hate Lila and the others, but they had hurt him. He wanted to learn the truth, no matter what it was. If that meant befriending the man across the table from him, then that was exactly what he would do.

  “Come to my office, tomorrow at two. I’ll give you a sneak peek of the upcoming two-hour special. Maybe you can add some information.

  Harold thought about it for a few seconds before agreeing to drive up the following day.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Bring any files on cases you think may be relevant. I’d love to dig up some more dirt, make it a nice, juicy episode.”

  Both men stood, shook hands and left the diner. As Harold drove home, he thought about some of the strange happenings that had taken place over the years. There were a few situations he definitely thought were worth investigating further. He wasn’t going to take it further, not yet. For now, he would use George to get some insight. Once he could prove or disprove what he suspected, then he would decide what to do.

  As he drove back into Lemon Bliss, the factory drew his attention. He hadn’t released the crime scene yet and decided it couldn’t hurt to take another look around. Maybe he’d find his own evidence. He didn’t like George and something told him the guy wasn’t completely innocent in the death of his partner. Maybe he’d have another talk with Lila. She was holding something back as well. There were far too many secrets in this town for his liking.

  One layer at a time. The first layer started with the factory and whatever those supernatural investigators discovered.

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  Please enjoy the following excerpt from A Spell to Tell, the next book in the Lemon Tea Series.

  Excerpt: A Spell to Tell

  Chapter One

  “Are you ready for this?” I asked Daphne, taking several calming breaths.

  She smiled. “Girl, I’ve been ready for the last three months. I didn’t think this moment would ever come. I don’t think I realized how much work would be involved just to get the place transformed into a bakery. I thought it would be a few ovens and sinks and then some seating in the dining room. This has been go
bs of work.”

  Smiling, I looked around the tiny dining area of our new bakery. Today was our grand opening. I was nervous and excited at the same time.

  “You’ve got the cash drawer in?” I asked, going through a mental checklist.

  “Yes.”

  “Tables are cleaned, condiment bar stocked, display ready,” I mumbled, as I spun around. Everything had to be just perfect.

  “We’re good, Violet. This is going to be great. There’s already buzz around town after our soft opening last week. This is going to do fabulous! Are you ready?”

  On the heels of another breath, I closed my eyes and composed myself. “Okay, I’m ready. Hit it.”

  She flipped the switch on the neon ‘open’ sign, and we were officially open for business. We both stood in the center of the dining room, staring at the front door. Daphne burst out giggling.

  “I don’t think there’s going to be a stampede.”

  I laughed with her. “No, probably not. That was a little anti climatic.”

  Another giggle from her as she walked behind the counter, taking her position at the register. “Was it like this at your other bakery?”

  I shook my head. “Not really, but I was opening in a larger city on a busy street. There had been a lot of buzz before we opened. The first few days we were slammed and then things tapered off. Fortunately, after a month or so, business picked back up and steadily increased. It took people a while for word to travel. So many cafes and other stores had been in that same space, no one took us seriously at first.”

  “Tara is going to do great. She seemed pretty excited to take over full-time,” she said, referring to my manager for the bakery I’d left behind when I moved.

  “Yeah, she’ll be fabulous. She’s been my assistant for over two years. She’s more than ready to run the whole show. I couldn’t close it. That store was my baby. I nurtured it for so long, I couldn’t let it go.”

  Daphne flashed a grin. “Now, you’re officially a chain!”

  I laughed. “I don’t know if two bakeries make a chain, but you’re a part of that chain as well if they do.”

  “Divine Desserts will soon be in every city!” Daphne teased.

  “Yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I warned.

  We both stood behind the counter, waiting for our first customer. I knew the risks of opening a business in a small town, but Daphne was confident we could do it. It wouldn’t be a booming business, but I was certain we could make it profitable. I was actually looking forward to the slower pace a small town bakery would offer. I was completely at peace with working eight-hour days instead of twelve or more.

  When the first customer walked through the door, we both froze. “Hi,” I finally greeted the elderly man who was scrutinizing the cookies in the case.

  “Can I offer you a sample?” Daphne volunteered.

  The man studied the assortment of cookies and finally settled on a baker’s dozen of chocolate chip cookies. Daphne rang him up while I restocked.

  “That was kind of intense,” I whispered to Daphne once the man was gone. “He didn’t look happy, like we forced him to come in and buy cookies.”

  “That’s just Grumpy Gus. Don’t you remember him?” she asked.

  My eyes widened, “He’s still alive?”

  That made her giggle. “Yes, he’s still alive. He’s the town grump and clearly not ready to give up his role anytime soon.”

  I nodded in understanding. Gus had been old when I was little. That made him close to a relic now. It had been so long since I’d seen him, I hadn’t recognized him.

  The little bells above the door jingled again. We looked up to see my mother coming through the door. She glanced around the empty bakery before her gaze made its way to us, tension lining her features.

  “Slow start?”

  “It’ll pick up. We’ve only been open five minutes, after all. People may not even realize we’re here yet,” I explained, hoping to calm my own nerves as well as Daphne’s.

  “Well, it’s good no one’s here. I need to talk to you. Both of you,” she said, flicking her eyes between us.

  “What’s up?” I asked, assuming it was something to do with the coven.

  “There’s been a theft,” she announced.

  Daphne and I looked at each other and then back at my mother. “A theft?”

  She nodded her head, looked back at the door and then leaned over the counter. “At the museum.”

  “Lemon Bliss has a museum?” I asked in bewilderment.

  My mother rolled her eyes. “Oh good grief, Violet! Do you remember anything from growing up here?”

  I looked to Daphne for help. “You know, the old museum. It’s really an old house. There isn’t too much in there, just stuff that showcases the history of Lemon Bliss,” she explained.

  “Oh,” I said. With her prompt, I recalled visiting the place when we had been in grade school. It was small and only open a day or two a week. It wasn’t exactly a main tourist attraction.

  “What was stolen?” Daphne asked.

  My mother ran one of her hands over her black hair, her bracelets clinking as she smoothed back the stray strands that had fallen loose from the knot atop her head.

  “Several items, but two are of serious concern for us. There will be a coven meeting tomorrow night to discuss the issue,” she said in a low voice.

  “Mom, there’s no one here,” I reminded her.

  “I know that,” she shot back, her irritation evident.

  Daphne reached out and squeezed my mother’s hand. “We’ll be there. I’m sure it will be fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “If only that were true,” she muttered as she stepped back from the counter.

  “Do you want a doughnut or a muffin?” I asked, hoping to nudge her mind off of her worries. I never quite knew how seriously to take my mother. She tended toward dramatic. Only occasionally were her theatric reactions justified.

  “No thank you. I need to talk to Lila. I’ll see you girls tomorrow, and good luck with your grand opening. I’ll be sure to pass along the word that you’re open and ready for business,” she said, waving as she walked out. The sound of charm bracelets jingling followed her out the door.

  “That was weird,” Daphne said, once the door fell closed behind my mother. “Virginia is not one to get worked up about anything.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “She’s still on edge about the death of that supernatural investigator in the factory. She’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop for months. I keep telling her we’re fine and there’s nothing to worry about, but she is convinced she senses something coming.”

  “Well, I think your mom might be someone I would trust in that department,” Daphne said, her brow furrowing. “I just hope it isn’t another murder.”

  We were interrupted when another customer came through the door, followed by a steady stream of people for the next couple of hours. The sales depleted many of the cookies and muffins, which meant it was time to start baking. I loved baking and was more than happy to leave the front of the bakery to Daphne while I put on my apron and got to work.

  “Hey,” she popped her head in the kitchen a while later.

  “Hi. How’s it going out there?”

  She shook her head. “Ever get what you asked for and then regret it?”

  I chuckled as I carefully filled muffin cups with batter. “Yep. Pretty busy out there?”

  “We’re almost completely wiped out of cookies. I just sold our last blueberry muffin as well.”

  I nodded and pointed to a cooling rack filled with blueberry muffins. “Those are ready to go. There are peanut butter cookies in the oven, and I’ll get started on chocolate chip as soon as I get these in the oven,” I replied, entirely in my element.

  Daphne nodded and carried the muffins out to the front. I could hear the bells jingle and knew another customer was coming in. That was definitely a good sign.

  I spent the next several h
ours baking muffins and cookies, and fielding questions about the specialty cakes we were offering. Daphne managed to secure several orders, mostly for birthdays, and one anniversary cake. I could feel the strain of the day’s business getting to me and couldn’t wait to get home and put up my feet.

  “Can I kiss the cook?” a deep voice cut through my thoughts just as I was slicing through a piecrust.

  I smiled and turned to face Gabriel Trahan. “There you are.”

  “I stopped by earlier, but poor Daphne looked like she was overwhelmed. I figured I’d come back when things had slowed down,” he said, leaning in and giving me a quick kiss.

  “It’s been busy.”

  “Here, I thought you could use this,” he said, handing me a cup of coffee from Crooked Coffee, my favorite local coffee shop in Lemon Bliss.

  “Thank you. Daphne is still planning on moving forward with her coffee shop plan,” I laughed. “She may change her mind after today.”

  “She looks like she might be getting tired. Are you guys going to hire any help?”

  “That’s the plan, but we wanted to see what we needed. This first month, it will just be the two of us. My mom and her friends have offered to help if we need it. Considering how busy we are on a Tuesday, I think we may need them for this Saturday,” I said, sliding a tray of cookies into the oven.

  “I’m here for you as well. I may not be as pretty as the ladies, but I can sell a doughnut or two,” he said with that familiar grin that never failed to send a curl of warmth through me.

  “We might take you up on that, which means you might live to regret it,” I countered with a wink.

  He chuckled. “I’ll let you get back to work. I just wanted to stop by and tell you good luck, but I don’t think you need it. I’ll call you tonight and you can fill me in on the rest of the day,” he said, giving me another quick kiss before slipping out the back door.

  I sipped my coffee, savoring the rich flavor and the kick of caffeine. I could’ve used a second wind, and this might do the trick. I still had tons of baking to prep for tomorrow. We were definitely going to need to hire an assistant. I could keep up for now, but I certainly didn’t want to work at this pace forever.