The Sweets of Doom

by Wendy Meadows

  “But you never let us buy candy,” Joey moans.

  Cheryl bites back laughter while she herds them onto the sidewalk. “Well, maybe we’ll have to change that. See you around, Margaret. Take it easy, Zack.”

  We all wave while they walk away out of sight, on the way back to their own house. Oscar hired Kyle Davidson to repaint the front of their house while they stayed with me and Zack, so they’ll find their house graffiti-free and waiting for them.

  After they leave, Zack drifts to my side and hugs me around the shoulders. “That’s my good old mom, making the world safe for democracy.”

  I elbow him in the ribs. “Cut it out. You’re starting to sound like David.”

  He kisses the side of my head. “Maybe there’s a reason for that. I’m proud of you, Mom.”

  “You have no reason to be proud of me. Solving the murder case was more of a fluke than anything else.”

  “I’m not talking about the murder case,” he replies. “I’m talking about all of it—the Whitfields, helping Michael—all of it. You’re an angel, Mom, and I’m not biased just because I’m your son. You ask anyone around here. They’ll tell you the same thing.”

  I kick an imaginary dust speck on the floor. “I’m not going to ask anyone.”

  “That’s because you know it’s true.” He walks behind the counter and starts fiddling with the till.

  That’s my cue. We have a business to run here, and all this hugging and kissing and blowing sunshine up each other’s pants isn’t getting it done. I grab my inventory book and turn away toward the stock room when I hear what sounds like a flock of sheep coming down Main Street.

  I check through the window and see dozens of women and children trooping up the sidewalk. They laugh and shout. The kids dart into the street, only to be pulled back by their mothers.

  I have time to recognize a few faces from the coven before they all flood into the store. The kids go wild at the sight of so much candy.

  I throw up both hands in mock dismay. “Hold on a second here! You can’t all want to buy candy.”

  Stacy Koontz shoulders her way through the crowd. Her rosy apple cheeks shine brighter than ever. “We’re not here to buy anything, Margaret. We’re here to give you something to show our appreciation for all you’ve done for us.”

  “Stacy!” I exclaim. “I didn’t know you were in the coven. I didn’t see you at Cheryl’s that night.”

  “I had a meeting with the café’s lawyer that night,” she tells me. “Otherwise, I never miss a meeting. That’s why, when Cheryl said she was quitting as Grand High Vizier, I decided to step into the breach and take the helm, so to speak.” She laughed at herself. “Anyway, we’re here to celebrate you, and we brought a few tokens of our appreciation.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  She waves her hand and two little girls come forward. Each holds the corner of a square sheet of paper, and they tug it back and forth between them. They both try to pull it closer to themselves.

  When they get close enough, I see scribbles in crayon decorating the sheet. Trees, flowers, rainbows, and stick figures of little girls in dresses adorn the page. The children stumble up in front of me, not watching where they’re going. They glare at each other until one gives an especially vicious jerk and rips the corner off.

  Stacy smacks her lips. Another woman plunges forward and catches the child by the sleeve. “Maddy! I told you not to fight with your sister.”

  I try to smooth the matter over. “That’s okay. I’m sure it’s still good, whatever it is. What is it, by the way?”

  “It’s a gift voucher for our services.” Stacy removes the paper from the girls’ hands and holds it out to me. “This voucher entitles you to one magical spell of your choice. All you have to do is present this voucher at one of our meetings and tell us which spell you want cast and who you want it cast upon, and we’ll do the rest.”

  I fight down the urge to drop the paper straight into the wastepaper basket, but Stacy clasps her hands and beams with such pride and goodwill that I can’t bring myself to do it. All the other women and kids stare up at me in rapt attention watching to see what I’ll do.

  “Well…” I stammer. “That is certainly a very useful gift. Thank you all so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” No, I certainly can’t tell them how much I appreciate it or they’ll all get their feelings hurt.

  Stacy steers an older woman with graying hair out of the crowd. She pushes the poor creature toward me. “Phyllis here is a fortune teller. She reads palms and can foresee the future by reading tea leaves. We’re also offering you a complimentary reading at a convenient time to you, but we… well, we didn’t have time to make up an actual voucher. You’ll just have to tell her when you want to do the reading, but she’s retired, so you can do it anytime.” She finished by clapping her hands and bubbling with nervous laughter again. “That should be a big help in your next murder investigation, don’t you think?”

  I blink back and forth at them in a fluster at what to say. “It would be a big help, but let’s all hope there are no more murders in West End.”

  “Of course!” Stacy flaps her hand at me. “Right! Well, that’s all we really came to say.”

  A little boy tugs her sleeve. He makes wild gestures with his hands until she bends her ear close to his mouth. He whispers something, and she rockets up with a strangled cry. “Of course! How forgetful of me! Thank you for reminding me.”

  She turns one way and then the other. “Who’s got the…?”

  Another boy of about ten shuffles out of the back. He shrugs and drags his feet with all the signs of doing something distasteful to himself. He thrusts a package wrapped in gift wrap into my hand.

  The younger kids bounce around me. “Open it, Margaret! Open it.”

  How can I argue with that? I rip off the paper and find a doll inside with a withered apple head. Its wispy brown hair surrounds a smiling face. It wears blue jeans stitched out of denim and a brown plaid shirt. It holds a magnifying glass in one hand.

  I look up from the doll to find everyone staring at me. They hold their breath waiting for my reaction. I rummage in my mind for something appropriate to say, but I cannot for the life of me think of anything. “Is this…is this someone I know?”

  The kids explode in rapid chattering so I can’t understand a word. They leap and skip and frolic around me in mad ecstasy. Stacy yells over the noise. “It’s a good luck charm for your investigations, although it doesn’t seem like you really need it. We just wanted to do something nice for you.”

  I smile at everyone in genuine appreciation. I might not use their gift voucher for the magical spell of my choice, but their heartfelt gifts still touch my heart. “Thank you so much. These mean the world to me.”

  Stacy draws herself up and takes a deep breath. “And this is from me. I hope you like it.”

  She takes a square folded piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to me. I unfold it and find a pile of brown seeds.

  “I know you like to garden,” Stacy tells me. “These are calendula seeds. The flowers have healing properties, and you can even use the petals in salads. They’re bright orange, so they’re very high in antioxidants. Besides, they’re beautiful and they keep blooming all summer long.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe, glad to receive a gift I can actually use. “I love calendula.”

  “It’s just my little way of showing you how happy I am to have you as a neighbor,” Stacy tells me. “It was a lucky day that you moved to West End.”

  I sweep the faces around me. No one laughs. Everyone gazes back at me with the same admiration and goodwill. It was truly a lucky day for me when I moved to West End, too. I never expected to find a home amongst these people, and every month brought us all closer together. My heart sunk its roots into this town until I can’t imagine myself ever leaving.

  Zack studies me over the children’s heads. His expression tells me the same thing he tried to te
ll me before. All these people love me and I love them.

  Stacy jerks around and claps her hands. She calls over her troops like a general. “All right, gang. Let’s get out of here and let these people get back to their business.”

  Rounding everybody up takes a lot longer than getting them into the store in the first place. The children especially take considerable convincing to pry them away from the counter, where they glue their noses to the glass and gawk at the rows of boxes and tins and bright colors.

  The mother in me wants to dive in and start cracking the whip to get them moving, but another part of me holds back. I don’t want them to leave. It isn’t the admiration I crave. Their praise and well wishes make me uncomfortable because I still can’t grasp the fact that I have, in fact, solved three murder cases in this town.

  No, I thirst for their company, their conversation, their shared camaraderie as neighbors and fellow citizens. My heart sinks when the women finally manage to corral all the children out the door and down the sidewalk.

  Everyone waves and calls goodbye until the very last pigtail flutters around the Happy-Go-Lucky Café. I stand there with the voucher in one hand and the apple doll of myself in the other, but no amount of staring can bring the people back. The world rings hollow and empty without them in it, just like my house looms solitary and deserted, now that Cheryl, Oscar, Joey, and Emily have moved back to their own home.

  Zack appears at my elbow. “Are you okay, Mom?”

  At that moment, a police cruiser rolls past my vision. David Graham turns at the wheel, and our eyes meet across Main Street. He smiles and waves before he disappears.

  I take a deep breath. “Yes, everything’s fine. Everything is just fine.”

  I turn and walk back to my office. I shut the door behind me so I’ll be completely alone with my thoughts.

  First, I inspect the apple doll. I scrutinize the wrinkled face, the twinkling eyes, the rounded cheeks, and the cheerful expression. Is this what I really look like? Is this what people in this town see when they look at me?

  All at once, I can’t hold back my emotions anymore. I clamp my eyes shut, cover my face with my hand, and burst into silent laughter. My shoulders shake and my ribs ache holding back the irrepressible giggles over the sight of that doll. Dear Lord in Heaven, what is my life coming to?

  When I finish laughing myself out, I slide open my desk drawer and drop the doll into it. I plan to look at that thing once a year, maybe on my birthday, just to give myself a good laugh.

  Then I look at the voucher. The grainy crayon drawing vibrates with color and youthful enthusiasm. The figures present a picture of harmony and happiness. Who knew you could get a gift voucher for the magical spell of your choice?

  I let it drift into the drawer on top of the doll. I stare down at the voucher for a long time. Then I slide the drawer closed and go back to my work. I’ll never use that voucher. I know that with an absolute certainty to the very marrow of my being, but it sure is nice to know they were thinking of me when they gave it to me.

  Thanks for Reading

  Like this book?

  Please leave a review for it.

  Like cozy mysteries?

  Join Wendy’s newsletter to stay up-to-date with new releases. As a subscriber, you’ll get BLACKVINE MANOR, the complete series, for FREE!

  Join Wendy’s newsletter here.

  wendymeadows.com/cozy

  About Wendy

  Wendy Meadows is a USA Today bestselling author whose stories showcase witty women sleuths. To date, she has published dozens of books, which include her popular Sweetfern Harbor series, Sweet Peach Bakery series, and Alaska Cozy series, to name a few. She lives in the “Granite State” with her husband, two sons, two mini pig and a lovable Labradoodle.

  If you enjoyed this book, please take a few minutes to leave a review. Authors truly appreciate this, and it helps other readers decide if the book might be for them. Thank you!

  Get in touch with Wendy

  www.wendymeadows.com