Easy Bake Coven: Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries
Page 1
DEDICATION:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Coming Soon!
About the Author
Easy Bake Coven:
Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries
J.D. Shaw
Copyright 2013 by J.D. Shaw
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Cover illustrations by Allison Marie for Alli’s Studio. Copyright © 2013 All Rights Reserved. No part of these designs may be reproduced without written consent from the artist.
allisstudio@allisstudio.com
DEDICATION:
For Mom,
Who always read to her children each night and imparted her love for books.
For George,
My soul mate, best friend, and editor extraordinaire without whom this book would not exist.
Special thanks to my mentor, Jeanne Cavelos, for believing in my work and her dedication to the craft for making writers the best they can be everywhere.
Prologue
Mona had always been a woman who liked to be in control, even though the results rarely worked in her favor. As a little girl, she refused help from her older sisters as she worked the little plastic oven that cooked with a single light bulb. They would say she put in too much water, or that the frosting was too thin, but she insisted they let her do it by herself. Sure enough, the little baked treat ended up about as appetizing as frosted cardboard. She had done it without help and that was all that really mattered she told herself.
As a teen, she defied the caste system of the local high school by becoming a cheerleader even though her family lived on the wrong side of town. Although she executed the routines with flawless determination, she never could unseat Missy Collins and her perfect blond hair from the lead position. While no one could argue she was indeed a cheerleader, her invitations to the after-game parties always seemed to get lost in the mail.
When she graduated from community college with a degree in business administration, she envisioned herself leading a small company to global success. But the reality turned out to be five years in a corner office in New York City with no window and endless paperwork. While her ideas to take the company in a new direction sailed on golden wings, her own were clipped as the company refocused its brand appeal and started fresh, minus her position.
Like some fairy tale princess suffering from a dire curse, she was ultimately rescued by a handsome young man named Richard Clarke. Through his job at city hall, the doors began to open that had for so long been locked to her. She attended the best parties, met the best people, and eventually had the best wedding that even Missy Collins would have envied. Tired of the metropolitan life, Richard convinced Mona to leave for a quiet town upstate where they could put down roots. Within two months, they had departed the concrete jungle for the quiet shores of the Finger Lakes.
Settling in Cayuga Cove, Richard landed a decent job in local government and quickly rose up the ranks to eventually be elected mayor. Mona, charged with serving as the first lady, went about setting up committees to address problems in the town and implemented ideas on how to fix them. Her first few forays into civic activities proved fruitful and at long last she had a taste of the success that always seemed to elude her.
Today was going to be one of the grand moments that she enjoyed so much. She was leading the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new Sweet Dreams Bakery opening on Main Street not only as the mayor’s wife, but as the chairwoman of the newly resurrected town historic commission. Through her efforts, the town was going to be transformed into a destination like no other along the lucrative Cayuga Wine Trail.
She had taken the largely ceremonial role handed to her and crafted it into something others would look upon with awe and wonder.
Perhaps one day, they would present her with a plaque or plant a tree in the park to honor all her hard work? She would accept, naturally, but vowed to remain humble and gracious.
When the large scissors used for ribbon cuttings were plunged into her chest that early morning, she wasn’t all that surprised she was going out in a blaze of glory. As so often happened in her life, the other shoe had finally dropped.
Knocked off balance, she was pushed into the dumpster filled with white trash bags and left alone as her murderer fled into the early morning drizzle.
Thank God she had written her obituary years before, she thought before she died. Richard would never have been able to compose such a moving tribute without her help.
Chapter 1
“Mother, you can’t measure dry ingredients with a liquid measuring cup.” Vivienne Finch cringed as the confectioner sugar spilled over the top of the glass and scattered all over her freshly mopped black and white checker tiled floor of the soon-to-open Sweet Dreams Bakery. Thank heaven the health inspector had already cleared her to operate the day before.
Nora Finch peered over her bifocals, having never followed the optometrist’s advice how to use them properly. Dressed in a stylish gray fisherman’s sweater and a simple plaid skirt, she looked hopelessly out of place in the confines of the kitchen workspace. “That’s nonsense.” She gingerly set the full measuring cup on the stainless steel counter. “I’ve measured everything this way for years and never had a problem.
Vivienne suddenly knew why Nora’s holiday fruitcakes were hearty enough to anchor a sailboat. “I really could use some help assembling the Linzer cookies. Just stick the tops on and dust them with the sugar. After all, they’re for your rummy club tonight.” She grabbed the broom and dustpan from the corner to sweep up the mess her mother had left on the floor.
Nora happily moved over to the marble island where the mostly finished cookies awaited. “Would that be more helpful?” She smiled sweetly. “I wouldn’t want you to have to rush getting ready for your date with Joshua tonight.” She began to hum a tune to herself, her usual habit whenever she knew the jig was up on whatever plan she had set in motion.
‘So that’s why you’re here.’ Vivienne thought to herself and exercised control to not roll her eyes. All mothers seemed to have a sixth sense whenever their children did so and she didn’t have time to get into another heated discussion. “I haven’t exactly committed to that just yet.” She knelt down to sweep up the confectioner’s sugar off the floor.
"Vivienne, you're my daughter and I'll love you no matter what.” Nora said as she plucked a cookie up from the tray. "Don't you want a man to sweep you off your feet?"
"I'd rather have a man sweep the kitchen and maybe once in a blue moon lift the toaster oven up to clean the crumbs underneath.” Vivienne answered as she emptied the dustpan of sugar into the trash.
Nora stared at the cookie in her grip, still warm from the oven. It was soft, sweet, and so terribly easy to crumble. Just like her daughter's will. "Honey, I don'
t want to alarm you, but you do work in a bakery surrounded by sweets. If you don't get a man to sweep you off your feet soon, he's going to need a bigger broom."
“Gee, thanks.” Vivienne sighed.
Nora clucked her tongue in response. “Well, my darling daughter, I have good news. Mother has accepted the date on your behalf because you’re so terribly busy with the opening.”
Vivienne’s face warmed as she considered her response. “Mother, how could you do that when you know the grand opening is three days away? I’m barely keeping up as is.” She walked the dustpan over to the trash can and dumped it with a little more vigor than was actually needed. A small cloud of white lifted into the air.
“I did it because you’ll continue to find excuses to not go out with him.” Nora worked slowly on the cookies, refusing to make eye contact with her daughter. “You do have a knack for always finding activities to get you out of things.”
Vivienne was about to get into one of their usual heated discussions when the phone rang just in the nick of time. She took a deep breath, leaned the broom against the counter, and then answered. “Sweet Dreams Bakery, how can I help you?”
The voice of her best friend, Kathy Saunders, greeted her in response. “I was driving by just a few seconds ago and I couldn’t help but notice Nora Dearest in the kitchen.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Vivienne kept her voice in her business professional tone. “Would you like to place an order for that?”
Nora looked up from the cookies she was working on and pointed to her watch.
“Meet me for some coffee in fifteen minutes at Clara’s?” Kathy offered.
“Absolutely, I can do that. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up the phone and turned to face her mother.
“I hope you’re not wasting precious time that could be better spent at the salon.” She adjusted her glasses once more as she looked over her daughter’s appearance. “You should take the rest of the day off and treat yourself to a day of beauty.”
“If he can’t be attracted to me, crow’s feet and all, maybe it just isn’t meant to be.” Vivienne countered.
Nora shook her head as she finished assembling the last cookie on the tray. “At least take time to clean up the flour streaks in your hair.”
“What flour streaks?” Vivienne puzzled.
Nora put her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear, I didn’t realize how bad the lighting was in this place.”
Vivienne bit down on her lower lip in response to her mother’s barb about her auburn hair and the occasional white strands that appeared more frequently these days. “I don’t have time to get it colored if that’s what you’re driving at.”
“Just try to be gracious and act like everything he says is just fascinating.” Nora walked over to her daughter and began to inspect just how many white strands had invaded her hair. “He’s a fine catch.”
“Mother, please.” Vivienne brushed her hands away from her hair. “I need to run down to the grocery and pick up some more cake flour.”
Nora backed away. “I have some errands to run myself.” She squinted in an effort to read the face of the wall clock.
“It’s one forty-five.” Vivienne smiled.
“That means that Eunice Kilpatrick is still on lunch down at the bank. She always short changes me when I make my withdrawals.” Nora grabbed her purse from the nearby counter and gave her daughter a hug. “I better hurry before she gets back.”
“I thought Eunice was one of your best friends? Isn’t she usually your team mate?”
“She is.” Nora smiled sweetly as she picked up her tray of cookies. “But she gets to gabbing so much she never pays mind to what she’s counting out and don’t even get me started on keeping track of cards played.” She paused for a quick inspection of her appearance in front of the oven glass. “Last week I ended up with ten deposit slips and some coins in my purse when I made a withdrawal from my casino fund.” She waved goodbye and disappeared out the front door onto Main Street.
Vivienne relished the moment of peaceful quiet in the bakery. The ribbon cutting was still three days away, but she wasn’t all that worried. It was just going to be a simple ceremony with the mayor and members of the small business community on hand to give their support. What could possibly go wrong with that?
Twenty minutes later, she walked into Clara’s Diner and was greeted by the gentle tinkle of the little brass bell above the door. The owner, Miss Clara Bunton, handed change to one of the regulars. Like most of the males in the town, his outfit consisted of a pair of jeans with ragged bottoms, a flannel shirt, and some sort of hat with the logo of a favorite sports team.
Clara, however, was consistently the same no matter the day. She was a thin woman in her sixties with cheeks that always had a little too much blush on them and permed brown hair with curls a bit too tight. As usual, she was dressed in a perfectly pressed pink uniform with a decorative white lace collar. She worked the cash register by the front door, as she had for the past thirty years, keeping an eye on the bottom line and the actions of the staff. “Vivienne, I was just thinking about you today.”
“Hello Miss Clara.” Vivienne scanned the empty diner booths for Kathy. As was the normal for any of their planned activities, she kept up her perfect streak of running five minutes late. “I’m going to need a strong cup of coffee.”
Clara grabbed a menu from under the counter and set it on the table of a nearby booth. “Flying solo today?”
“I’m meeting Kathy here.”
Clara was joined by Stephanie Bridgeman, the newest waitress who was still learning the fine art of how to properly wait tables. “The special today is Yankee pot roast.” Stephanie awkwardly searched her small apron pockets for her order pad and pen but only seemed to find sugar packets and a crumpled napkin.
“Sounds delicious, but I’ll just have coffee.” Vivienne smiled at the young girl. Stephanie was one of the locals who had recently graduated high school but who couldn’t afford to go to college. Like so many of the farm families in upstate New York, they were just making ends meet.
“Would you like cream and sugar?” Stephanie asked, setting several sugar packets on the table as she continued her search for a pad and pen.
“Please.” Vivienne winked at Clara. “I have to admit I’m tempted with Miss Clara’s pecan pie over in the baker’s case.”
Stephanie’s eyes brightened. “Can I get you a slice?”
“I deserve a little treat after all my hard work these past few weeks.” Vivienne reasoned. “Pecan pie is one thing that I’m not going to touch at the bakery. I could never compete with Miss Clara’s famous recipe.”
“You get the coffee, Stephanie.” Clara ordered. “I’m going to make sure Vivienne gets one of the bigger slices.”
“I really shouldn’t indulge like that.” Vivienne replied. “But mother did say I should treat myself to something nice today.”
Clara chuckled in response. “You’re such a sweet girl. It’s hard to believe that Nora is your mother.”
“Believe it.” ‘You two are like a pair of magnets.’ Vivienne thought to herself. ‘Flip them one way they are thick as thieves. Turn them over and they can’t push away fast enough.’ They were friendly enough in person to each other, but deep down there was some sort of intense rivalry of who could have the more perfect version of everything. Clothes, cars, home décor, friends, even garden flower beds.
The bell over the door jingled as Kathy entered. As usual, her attention was drawn to the screen of her smart phone.
“I’ll go get your pie.” Clara reached down and gave Vivienne’s hands a gentle squeeze before leaving to supervise Stephanie who seemed to be having trouble working the double brewer system.
“The bakery isn’t in flames, so I take it Nora must have left.” Kathy joked as she slid into the booth. As the owner of the Trade Winds Clothier, she was always stylishly dressed no matter what the occasion. Her shoulder length blond hair was swept up into an elegant style tha
t was both business-like and sexy. Her makeup was flawless. Thanks, in no small part, to the hundred dollar consultations with the experts at the Nouveau You salon in town.
Stephanie slid an enormous slice of pecan pie, in front of Vivienne. “The coffee is brewing again. It should only be a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” Vivienne glanced around the table but found no napkin or flatware.
“Can I get you anything?” Stephanie asked Kathy.
Kathy, never one to mince words, nodded. “Some napkins and flatware would be a good start.”
Stephanie slapped her cheeks in response. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetie.” Vivienne narrowed her eyes at Kathy. “I’m in no hurry to take on these empty calories.”
Kathy glared back at her friend and rolled her blue eyes in response. “I’ll just have a coffee, black.”
Stephanie pulled out her order pad from her apron pocket and scribbled.
“Carbohydrates be damned.” Kathy added. “Give me a piece of the pecan pie too.”
Vivienne shook her head and smirked. “Bad moods burn calories.”
“Then I should be able to have the entire pie and not worry about my figure.” Kathy drummed her fingernails on the vintage red Formica tabletop.
Stephanie let out a nervous laugh and rushed back to the kitchen area where Clara was dealing with a coffee grinder that Stephanie had overfilled. The pre-measured cup to capture the freshly ground beans spilled a cascade of aromatic powder onto the floor behind the counter. “I’m sorry about that Miss Clara.”
Clara shook her head at the mess. “I’ll get the broom and dustpan.”
“Geez, what put you in such a good mood today?” Vivienne asked as the smell of the pecan pie made her stomach grumble in anticipation.
“Mona Clarke.” Kathy confided. “She and her sycophants were poking around my store and pointing out all the flaws in my choice of décor. She practically called it tacky.”