by Zoe Arden
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CHAPTER
EIGHT
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" I'M AFRAID EVERYTHING POINTS TO YOUR MOTHER."
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L incoln was already at the hospital when I arrived. Dr. Wallace had called him the second Mayor Singer woke up.
"Felicity," he called when he saw me running down the hallway. "I'm glad you made it. I wasn't sure, after this morning..."
He squeezed my hand lightly, an offer of apology for our earlier tiff, his eyes as blue as the ocean that surrounded us. I wished we could have a moment alone together, but there were doctors and hospital staff milling around everywhere.
"Is my mother awake?" I asked, hopeful. If the mayor was awake, I figured my mom might be, too.
"No," he said. "I'm sorry."
My face fell. "If she's not awake, then why did you tell me to get down here?"
"I thought you'd like to be here when I talked to the mayor, if he has no objection. I know that you have a lot of questions, and I just wanted you to know that... I want to help."
I was so happy that I kissed Lincoln right there in the corridor. I didn't care who saw us.
Dr. Wallace came hustling out of the back. "Hello, Felicity," he said. He turned to Lincoln. "He's asking for you again, Sheriff."
Lincoln turned, dragging me along behind him.
Inside Mayor Singer's room, Tazzie was crying and cheering all at once. Their daughter, Kayla, was sitting in the corner, begging her mother to give her dad some air. A nurse was trying to take the mayor's blood pressure, but Tazzie refused to let go.
"Ma'am, I need your husband's arm," the nurse said, trying to tear him away from Tazzie.
"Ohhh," she cried, holding her husband's arm even tighter. "It's just sooo woonderfuulll!"
"Felicity," Mayor Singer said when he saw me. He tried to pull his hand away from Tazzie to shake mine, but she only clutched it more tightly. His fingers were starting to turn purple.
"Mayor Singer," I said, going up to his bed. "It's so nice to see you awake." I patted his free arm and said a silent incantation that Tazzie wouldn't cut off his circulation so badly that his fingers fell off.
"I was sorry to hear about your mother," he said. "I'd hoped to find out that I was the only one affected by the poisoning."
The nurse gave up and left the room.
I nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay. My mom was just across the hall from the mayor. When I was done here, I intended to go say hi. I wasn't sure whether or not she could hear me, but I wanted to let know that she didn't have to worry. Whenever she woke up, everything would be fine. I was going to make sure of it.
"Mayor Singer," Lincoln said now. "Doctor Wallace said you were asking for me."
His sheriff's uniform was a dark blue with Mistmoor's double M insignia over the right lapel. I'd always liked seeing him dressed for work. It made my heart flutter in strange and exciting ways.
"Yes. My wife and daughter have been filling me in on the details."
Tazzie interrupted the mayor with a loud honk as she blew her nose and tossed it into a wastebasket overflowing with tissue. Kayla took her mom's hand and forced her into a seat.
"You'll feel better if you rest a little," Kayla said. Mayor Singer smiled reassuringly at his wife.
"I just want to know," the mayor continued, "what you've been doing to find the person responsible for this. Do you have any leads?"
Lincoln tensed beside me, but planted his feet firmly on the ground.
"Just one." He glanced sideways at me, and I could see his lips tighten. "Amelia Redfern."
I gasped along with the Mayor and Tazzie.
"I thought you said you wanted to help me!" I cried.
"I do," Lincoln replied, his cheeks coloring. "I want to help you come to grips with the fact your mother... may have caused an unfortunate accident."
I turned to the mayor, furious with Lincoln.
"Mayor Singer, Lincoln—I mean Sheriff Maxwell—has no idea what he's talking about. He hasn't even looked at any other suspects!"
"Yes, Felicity. I have. No one else had the means or opportunity. I'm afraid everything points to your mother."
"What about Edith Woodruff?" I demanded.
I looked at the mayor, pleading with him to make Lincoln understand. "Everyone knows Edith is jealous of my mom. She wanted to be the one to cater your anniversary party. She knows the layout of Cakes and Creations since she used to be part owner. She could easily have—"
Mayor Singer held up a hand. "Edith Woodruff wasn't jealous of your mother."
I stopped talking, wondering if the mayor had lost his mind.
"Or at least, not for the reasons you seem to think," Mayor Singer continued. "I told Amelia that she could cater my anniversary party... and I told Edith that she could cater my birthday party. Edith was fine with that. It's only a couple months away, and I intend to make it every bit as momentous as our anniversary."
"You told Edith..." I began but couldn't finish the sentence.
If what he was saying was true, then he was right. Edith had no reason to be jealous of my mother's handling the anniversary party. Still, Edith had acted plenty jealous that night. Maybe there was something I was missing. It just didn't make sense.
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CHAPTER
NINE
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"YOU'RE NOT SERIOUS?!
YOU MUST HAVE MISUNDERSTOOD."
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A t home, the house felt empty. I was paranoid sitting here alone. I hadn't received any other threats, but that note had gotten to me more than I wanted to admit. I'd shoved it into my purse and tried to forget about it, but every time I was alone, I felt like I was being watched.
I sat down on the couch, replaying everything the mayor had said to me and Lincoln at the hospital. When I was leaving, Lincoln had tried to talk to me, but I had nothing to say to him. I felt utterly betrayed by him.
"Sometimes the sheriff is a dum-dum," a voice said, interrupting my thoughts.
I turned to see Sunny march in through the window. He moved so fast he was nothing but a white blur. It was part of his powers as a familiar. Each familiar had a specialty—some could move fast, some could jump high, some could change shapes. Sunny moved like he was Superman. He jumped up beside me and began to nuzzle my hand with his head. I scratched him under the chin and he started purring like crazy.
"I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming back," I told him.
"Sunny's been busy," he replied, licking his paws.
"I know. So what did Sunny find out?"
He put his paw down and looked me in the eyes.
"Sunny has been following Nightshade. Nightshade has been to the bakery. He is looking for something."
"I knew it!" I shouted, triumphant. "My Mom's Oven-Hot recipe!"
Sunny shrugged. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps?" I asked him. "What do you mean, perhaps?"
He licked his lips. I could tell he was thinking. His green eyes brightened, glowing softly.
"Is there something else?" I asked him.
Sonny nodded. "Yes, but Sunny does not think you will like it."
A strange cold feeling crept up the back of my neck. "Why won't I like it? You didn't... you didn't find something out about my mom, did you?"
"No. Mama is the same as before. Silly-headed but the best baker. She does not make mistakes with baking. Sunny thinks Edith is a bad baker. She has many dark elements in her shop. Sunny knows them all except one. It is red and fuzzy looking."
"But I know that already. Everyone knows Edith uses dark elements in her desserts. What else are you holding back?" I asked.
Sunny sighed. "Sunny has been to The Golden Goose."
"Grayson's restaurant?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes. Grayson is Mama's son. Sunny does not want to think anything bad of hi
m."
"Why would you think anything bad about Grayson?" I asked.
"Sunny was hiding under a table. A man came in. A human man."
The cold I'd felt pricking at the back of my neck moved to my spine.
"Sunny did not like the human man. His aura was dark."
"Did you get his name?" I asked.
"Damon Tellinger."
The name didn't sound familiar to me. I knew all the humans in Mistmoor Point, or at least I thought I did.
"What did they talk about?" I asked.
"Sunny heard Grayson say that he owes the man money. The man was angry Grayson has not paid him. He seeks revenge."
The blood drained from my face.
"You're not serious?! You must have misunderstood. Grayson's restaurant is doing great. Why would he owe anyone money?"
Sunny shrugged. "Sunny does not know. The conversation was short."
I sat with a frown on my face, trying to think of a logical explanation but coming up with nothing. Sunny jumped into my lap and purred until my heart began to beat normally again. He always had a soothing effect on me.
"Thank you, Sunny." I set him down and got some Kibble Tuna. "Sunny gets extra tuna tonight."
"Sunny likes Kibble Tuna," he said through mouthfuls of treats. I laid down to take a nap, hoping that when I woke up this would all be a dream.
When I awoke later, the sun was going down. Instead of the nap clearing my head, it had managed to create a thundering headache that seemed to be trying to eat my right eyeball. I'd managed to sleep away the day without feeling rested. And I wasn't any closer to an answer than I was before.
I went downstairs and slipped into my sandals. The beaches were always beautiful at sunset. I hoped they would help the vice my head was trapped in right now. I wandered along the shoreline, watching the colors change in the sky. Purples and pinks mixed with blues and yellows. Everything seemed in harmony.
Why couldn't my life reflect that same harmony right now?
I churned over everything that Sunny had told me. I couldn't believe Grayson might have had anything to do with this, but if he was in trouble... Maybe Damon Tellinger, whoever he was, had tried to get even with Grayson by hurting our mother.
I knew Grayson would be angry, but I had to ask him about it. Cakes and Creations was still closed, and if it stayed closed much longer, our mother would have no business left when she awoke. We were losing money every day and soon there would be nothing left.
One way or another, I had to get Grayson to tell me what he knew. No matter how unpleasant it might be.
* * *
CHAPTER
TEN
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* * *
WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE DAY
COMES THAT YOU ARE WRONG? …
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T he next morning, I'd decided I would go to The Golden Goose as soon as I'd had my coffee. I'd slept badly during the night. So badly, in fact, that I'd dipped into my mother's Fluffernutter tea. It had put me out like a light in a matter of seconds.
There was still something about the Fluffernutter in the baked goods that bothered me.
I dialed Doctor Wallace as I put on my coffee. It rang three times before he answered.
"Doctor Wallace here."
"Hello, Doctor, it's Felicity Redfern."
"Felicity," he said. "How are you, my dear?"
"I've been better," I replied as honestly as possible without getting into it. I could almost hear him nodding sympathetically over the phone.
"Listen, Dr. Wallace, I was calling because there's been something bothering me about the Fluffernutter you found in my mother's pastries."
"Yes?" he asked. I was grateful he was willing to listen to my questions.
"Well, Fluffernutter root is a sleep aid. It doesn't generally make people sick. It can explain the coma my mother and Mayor Singer fell into, but it doesn't explain the green slime they both coughed up."
"That's true," he said carefully. "I had the same thoughts. That's why I've actually been conferring with a witch regarding some of the magical elements of the case."
"You have?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes. I recognize that I'm no expert in magic. I've learned a lot living on Heavenly Haven, but I'm still learning new things every day. For example, did you know that the Wildebeest Mushroom can actually turn a person into a wildebeest when mixed with maple syrup?" He sounded more excited than alarmed by this information.
I tried not to laugh. Every witch and warlock in first grade knew that. Sometimes, I forgot just how human Doctor Wallace was. When he'd first taken his position at Mistmoor Hospital, there had been a paranormals town meeting to discuss whether or not he should be informed of the different types of people he might encounter in his work.
It had been decided that, for the safety of the wizarding community, as well as the odd shapeshifter and fairy who sometimes made an appearance on the island, he had to be told the truth. Though witches and humans weren't so different anatomy wise, there was a wide disparity between illnesses that humans and witches might suffer from. No human had ever gone to the hospital suffering from a hammerhead hex. How was Dr. Wallace going to know how to treat them if he didn't even know that witches and warlocks were real?
"So, what do you think? Is there more to this than just Fluffernutter root?"
Dr. Wallace hesitated and I got a sneaking suspicion I knew why.
"Did Lincoln ask you not to talk to me?"
"No, nothing like that. He just... encouraged me not to lead you on about the case. He's just worried about you, Felicity. He doesn't want to see you upset."
"Humph."
"But I don't think I'm violating any oaths if tell you that it's likely the Fluffernutter root was mixed with something that, when combined, created a toxic poison."
"So then whoever mixed them might not have even realized they were creating anything poisonous."
"It's possible. This may have been a simple case of misidentification. According to Amanda Hollyberry, the simplest addition of basil or thugwort could have resulted in a catastrophic reaction."
"Thank you, Doctor Wallace," I said, hanging up.
My head was spinning on the way to see Grayson. My conversation with Dr. Wallace had done nothing to help my headache.
When I pulled up to The Golden Goose, Grayson was pacing the path outside. I looked for his car to park next to but didn't see it anywhere, so I just picked a spot and got out.
"Hey," I said.
He jumped a foot in the air.
"Don't sneak up on a person like that!" he hollered.
I paused. Grayson never yelled at me.
"I didn't sneak up on you," I told him. "I just walked up the path. What are you doing out here anyway? I figured you'd be inside, checking the tables for gum and the waiters for excessive drool, or whatever it is you do here."
I was trying to keep things light, but Grayson didn't even crack a smile.
"Have you been to see Mom?" I asked.
He nodded. "This morning. She had more color in her cheeks."
"Sunny says she'll wake up any day now."
Grayson chuckled. "Sunny's a know-it-all."
"Yeah, but he's right most of the time."
We stood awkwardly outside the doors to his restaurant. "Well, I'm going in," I told him. "You coming?"
He sighed and followed me inside. I inhaled sharply when I saw the dining room. It was empty. Not one person was here. I knew it was still early, but Grayson usually had a pretty good breakfast crowd. I looked at him and realized how sallow his cheeks looked.
"I know," he said as he slipped into a booth. "We're cursed."
I sat across from him. My eyes widened. "Cursed? What do you mean? Who cursed you?"
Grayson waved his hand through the air, indicating the restaurant.
"Whoever decided to ruin the mayor's party and kill Norbert Clark. The Golden Goose has gone from party c
entral to crime central. "
I felt bad for my brother. This restaurant was his dream.
"But otherwise, business has been good, right?"
He looked at me oddly.
"I mean, until now you weren't having any, um, business... problems. Were you?"
I felt like a little kid again. Questioning my big brother was harder than I'd realized it would be.
"Sure," he said. "Business is great. Normally. Why?"
"No reason," I said.
My heart thumped in my chest. I had to stop being a baby and just spit it out.
"I might've heard something," I finally told him. "About the restaurant. And... a human."
Grayson's face turned to stone. He sat still and said nothing.
"A man named Damon Tellinger?" I prompted, hoping the man's name would get a reaction. It did, but not the one I expected. Then again, did I even know what I'd expected? I'd hoped that Grayson would tell me he'd never heard of anyone by that name. Instead, he confirmed my worst fears.
"What about him?" Grayson asked.
My jaw dropped. "So you know him?"
"Yes. What of it? I often have dealings with people in Sweetland Cove. Damon is no different."
Sweetland Cove?
Why was Grayson doing business with someone in Sweetland Cove?
"Do you owe him money?" I asked. My throat was dry. "This doesn't have anything to do with Mom, does it?"
Grayson's face darkened. "I can't believe you," he snarled.
"What?" I asked as Grayson rose from the table. I followed after him, pulling on his arm as he tried to go into the kitchen. The few waiters who were there watched us with interest.
"What's going on?" I demanded, wishing I'd made some more Deception Detector before coming down here.
"Why are you asking me all this, Felicity?" Grayson yelled. "Do you really think I had something to do with poisoning Mom's catering job? What could I possibly have to gain from that?"