Witch, Please!
A Witch Squad Cozy Mystery Short-Story
M.Z. Andrews
Witch, Please!
A Witch Squad Cozy Mystery Short-Story
Book #7.5
by
M.Z. Andrews
Copyright © 2017 by M.Z. Andrews
*Previously published in the Hexes and Ohs Anthology of Short Stories
ISBN-13: 978-1721071869
ISBN-10: 1721071865
VS 6112018.01
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Also by M.Z. Andrews
About the Author
1
The sound of silence echoed off the deserted booths and tables while the comforting smell of hot beef sandwiches drenched in gravy, today’s lunch special, still hung in the air. Arching my shoulders backwards while rubbing the base of my spine, I looked out over the empty restaurant and smiled, grateful for my bustling business and yet at the same time extremely thankful for the momentary lull. I wiped the last bit of food from the recently vacated table and slid the round tray of dirty dishes onto my hip. Tossing the bar rag over my shoulder, I carried the tray into the kitchen, quietly singing the song “Love Potion No. 9.” Where I’d picked that up from during the afternoon lunch rush, I wasn’t sure, but somehow it had managed to worm its way into my head.
I set the tray down on the stainless-steel island, arranged the dishes in the commercial dishwasher rack, and then plunged back through the double set of swinging doors into the dining room. To my surprise, a set of broad shoulders in a tan corduroy jacket was hunched over the bar. The dark, curly-haired head attached to the shoulders lifted, and the man shot me a wide smile. “Linda!”
As usual, the mere sight of Detective Mark Whitman set my heart aflutter. My face instantly brightened. “Mark! What are you doing here?”
“I had a break between appointments. I thought I’d come down and pay you a little visit. It’s been a while.” His slightly crooked smile was easy and warm, like your favorite t-shirt fresh out of the dryer.
“It has been a while.” My hand went to my auburn hair absentmindedly. It had been a crazy morning; I was sure I looked a mess. I’d been up since four thirty, prepping the kitchen for the day at Habernackle’s, the little restaurant and B&B I ran with my son, Reign, in Aspen Falls, Pennsylvania.
“You sure do look beautiful, Linda. A sight for sore eyes,” he admitted, his dark eyes blazing with genuine adoration. He reached across the bar to take my slim fingers in his rugged hands.
Sure that I was blushing, I patted his hand. “Thank you, Mark. You look really great too.” As happened every time I bumped into him, I suddenly wondered how it was possible that we hadn’t taken our fledgling relationship any further than a couple of dates months ago. “I’m happy you stopped by. It has been too long.”
The doorbell over the front door of the restaurant chimed, forcing me to tear my eyes off Mark to greet my customer. Only it wasn’t a customer.
My heart did a little stutter-step and then it iced up in my chest. “Merrick!” I said in surprise.
Mark’s hands tensed up, and his shoulders slumped forward as I heard him murmur, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Hello, Linda.” Merrick’s voice was deep and mysterious. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around how a phrase as simple as Hello, Linda could make me feel like I was plummeting down a dark rabbit hole with no bottom in sight. Maybe it was his sexy voice, or maybe it was the combination of his thick ebony hair, his chiseled good looks, and the history we had together.
Merrick, quite simply, was the unrequited love of my life, and my son’s father. And because he was Reign’s father, I felt a sense of attachment to him, and I think he felt the same towards me. It had been a forced separation, and due to that, we’d never gotten to experience a breakup all those years ago, and neither of us had gotten closure on our relationship so that we could move on.
Merrick stood next to Mark at the bar, cradling an enormous bouquet of long-stemmed red roses in his arms. My eyes ping-ponged back and forth between the two men. Mark, a Tom Selleck doppelgänger with rugged, easy-going good looks, was sweet and had a quiet charm about him. Merrick was sleek and devilishly handsome, and he had the sophisticated allure of being a powerful wizard going for him. Two equally good-looking and charming men wanted me. Oh, the problem I had!
Leaning over the bar, Merrick handed me the roses. “These are for you.”
“Oh, Merrick, how sweet of you,” I said, vividly aware of the fact that Mark was staring at me.
Mark turned rigidly to appraise Merrick and the flowers. “What do you want, Stone?” he asked, clearly annoyed that his private moment with me had been sabotaged.
“Detective,” said Merrick stiffly. “I simply came to pay the mother of my child a visit. And yourself?”
My heartbeat pulsed in my ears.
“Actually, the fire department is putting on a sweethearts dance at the fire hall this weekend. I came to invite Linda to go with me.”
Before I could process the fact that Mark had come to ask me out, Merrick chimed in. “Truth be told, I came here with the same intentions.”
With one hand crooked on his hip and his other hand curled into a fist on the bar, Mark’s head swiveled to face me. With his head tipped sideways and his nostrils slightly flared, he forced out a calm question, “Linda, would you care to accompany me to the Sweethearts Dance on Saturday night?”
Maybe it was the intoxicatingly sweet perfume of the flowers in my arms that made my head spin, or maybe it was the two sets of dark eyes boring into me. My free hand fluttered to the hollowed-out cavity at the base of my neck. “Oh, well, I, uh…” How could I say yes to Mark, knowing full well that Merrick had come to ask me the same question?
Merrick reached across the bar to take my free hand. Sparks of electricity raced up my skin. “Sure, you could take a chance on the detective here,” he said calmly. “Or, you could go with me to the dance, knowing full well that we already have a long, rich history together. Our past love, our son … it’s all an unfulfilled promise, Linda. I’m ready to make good on all the promises of our past. What do you say? Go with me?”
“I—” Disbelief lodged itself into my throat. How was I supposed to answer that? I had feelings for both men. Very deep feelings, in fact. I knew I’d kept them waiting for far too long. It was time that I made my decision, because having two men fighting over me wasn’t what I had envisioned for myself.
I gently laid the roses down on the bar and, still holding on to Merrick’s hand, took Mark’s with my other hand. I gave them both a little squeeze. “I’d love to go with both of you,” I began slowly. “You know how much you both mean to me.”
Little beads of sweat glistened on Mark’s forehead. “But you can’t go with both of us.”
I nodded. “I know, Mark. And I do know that I’ve kept you two hanging for so long, and I truly appreciate the patience you’ve shown me while I got my business up and running. I need to make a decision. And I intend to. How about this? Give me another day or two to think about it.”
“But, Linda, the dance is in two days,” said Merrick.
I sighed. Running Habernackle’s was one of the hardest jobs I’d had in my entire life, except raising my daug
hter, Mercy, of course. Time seemed to fly. Last I’d checked, it was only Monday! “Okay, well, then, would you both meet me for a drink on Saturday night? How about Rawley’s Pub at eight? I’ll have my final decision then.”
“Linda…” began Merrick calmly.
I could hear it in his voice. He thought I was making a mistake by even considering choosing Mark. I held up a hand. I needed a couple more days. “If you want to withdraw your invitation, you’re welcome to. It will make my decision that much easier.”
Mark smiled at Merrick. “Yeah, feel free to withdraw your invitation, Stone. It would be my pleasure to have Linda on my arm.”
Merrick let out a little puff of air. “Never. I’ll be happy to meet you at Rawley’s on Saturday night, Linda.” He lifted my hand and gave it a chaste kiss. Dropping it gently, he looked over at Mark and tipped his head. “Detective.” Then he flashed me a smile of brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth. “Until Saturday, mon chaton.”
After Merrick had gone, Mark looked up at me, his dark eyes blazing. “You’re really considering that guy?”
“He was my first love,” I whispered. “And the father of my son. I owe it to Reign, to Merrick, and to myself to figure out if there’s still anything there, Mark.”
Mark nodded. “I understand. I won’t make this hard on you Linda, I promise.” He stood up and leaned over the bar, planting a little kiss on my cheek. In that split second, I wished it would have been on my lips. “I’ll see you Saturday, Linda. I hope you make the right decision.”
Once he’d gone, I leaned against the bar. The feeling of both men’s lips lingered in my mind. I hope I make the right decision too.
2
“Mom, I don’t understand why you’re even considering Merrick as a possibility,” said Mercy, hefting herself up onto the island in the kitchen.
Reign’s face flushed red, as it usually did when the three of us got to talking about my relationship with his father. “Mercy, why can’t you just stay out of this and let Mom make her own decision?”
Mercy juggled the handful of grapes in her hand. “Because! I don’t want my stepdad to be a psycho wizard.”
“Mercy! That was rude!” I loved my daughter with all of my heart, but Mercy had a tendency to say whatever was on her mind without a thought as to whom it might hurt. Since she hadn’t grown up with a brother, learning to be empathetic to his feelings wasn’t something that came naturally to her.
With her chin lowered, Mercy’s green eyes flicked up to look sheepishly at her brother. “Sorry, Reign,” she said quietly. “No offense.”
“Offense taken!” he snapped back. “We have gone around and around about this for months. I’m glad Mom’s finally ready to make a decision so we can table this, but you have to let it be her decision. This isn’t about you, little sister. It’s not even about my dad or about Mark. This is about Mom and what she wants for herself. I, for one, want to see Mom happy.”
Mercy’s jaw hung open. “Uh, that’s not fair! I want to see Mom happy too!”
“Then let her make her own decisions!”
“I am!” Mercy said, scowling at her brother. She turned her eyes towards me then. “I told you about all that creepy stuff Merrick had in his bedroom. It was like his Linda shrine. He’s even got pictures of you walking the dog, Mom! Isn’t that super stalkerish?”
My head tipped on my shoulders slightly. Mercy was referring to when she and her friends had recently broken into Merrick’s house and searched his room in a murder investigation they were working on. That wasn’t my favorite bit of information, no. But I wasn’t going to let it make my decision for me. I had to follow my heart in order to be happy. And if following my heart meant saying goodbye to Merrick once and for all, then it needed to be on my terms and because I wanted to be with Mark more, not because he had taken a few pictures of me in a public setting without my knowledge. “Can you drop it, Mercy? Please?”
Reign lifted a brow. “Yes. Just drop it, Mercy. Please.”
Mercy’s head rolled backwards on her shoulders. “Ugh!” she groaned. “If you pick Merrick, you’re making a mistake, Mom. I’m sorry, Reign, but he’s evil. Both of you will figure that out someday. And then I’ll be all like I told you so.” She rushed out of the kitchen then, before either of us could say another word.
Reign’s jawline set firmly as he watched her go. My sweet Reign. He looked just like his father. They had the same jet-black hair, the same ebony eyes, and the same well-defined cheekbones. It was hard not to see Merrick when I looked at my son. I wondered for a split second if that was why I was so reluctant to move on from him. As if saying goodbye to Merrick would somehow distance me further from my son.
“I’m sorry about Mercy, Reign,” I whispered.
Reign turned to look at me, his heart in his eyes. “No, I’m sorry, Mom. I hate that she’s difficult about this. This should be about you. Not her.”
I walked over to Reign and touched his arm. “Sweetheart, it is about me. Mercy has a right to her opinion. Just like you have a right to your opinion. I’ve tried very hard not to let your very differing opinions sway my decision. Whoever I pick, I’ll be making a commitment to, and I’ve never wanted to rush it. But it’s time, and I wish there was a definitive way to make my decision.”
His thick brows knitted together. “A definitive way? What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, like I wish there was a quiz I could fill out and it would tell me the right answer. No guessing. No wondering if I was making the right decision. Just a straight answer. It’s either A or it’s B. Conclusively.”
Reign grinned. “I don’t think the heart works like that, Mom.”
I sighed and leaned back against the industrial wall oven. “Yeah, I know. Wouldn’t it be nice if it did, though?”
Reign pursed his lips as if in thought. Then he brushed a finger in the air. “What if you could actually have a conclusive answer? Would you really want it?”
“Of course I would!”
“There’s someone that could help you, you know.”
I grinned. I knew exactly who he was talking about. “Are you talking about Sweets?”
He nodded. “She even lives down the hall from you. Why don’t you just ask for her help? She’s a matchmaker. She should be able to help you figure out who’s your perfect match!”
I smoothed out the flyaways in my hair as I thought about it. Sweets had tried to help me once. “I’ve tried Sweets before. Remember? It was a major fail.”
Reign lifted a brow. “Are you talking about the time that Sweets made that magic cake for the three of you, but Char and Vic ate it instead?”
I nodded.
“You can’t count that as a fail. It wasn’t your fault that someone ate it before you could get to it!”
I sighed. I’d chalked that whole incident up to divine intervention. The spirits were telling me that I wasn’t supposed to make my decision like that. I was supposed to let my heart guide me. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t a fail, exactly, but it wasn’t a win either. I just felt like maybe I wasn’t supposed to go down that path. You know?”
Reign shrugged. “I’m not telling you you have to try Sweets’s matchmaking skills again. I’m just saying that she never got a chance to prove herself to you.”
I tapped a finger on the bottom of my chin. “I guess in reality she did prove herself. I mean, it worked for Char and Vic.”
Reign put a hand on either of my shoulders and trained his eyes on mine. “Exactly! Sweets knows her stuff. Maybe you should give her a chance.”
I quirked a grin. “Hmm. Maybe you’re right.”
He slid his arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. “I know I’m right.”
3
My heart pattered in my chest as I stared straight ahead. It was a beautiful early spring day. The air was brisk, but the birds had songs on their beaks and the sun shone brilliantly. I gave a little tug on Chesney’s leash, encouraging him to stop sniffing and keep walking.<
br />
“Ruff!” he barked happily, excited for his morning walk.
I kept my eyes trained on the building ahead. Bailey’s Bakery and Sweets. Vic Bailey’s shop. I sucked in a big breath of air, savored the feeling of it filling up my lungs for a moment, and then blew it out between puckered lips. You can do this, Linda!
I nodded, as if I’d convinced myself. Plunging ahead, Chesney and I crossed the street and pulled open the bakery’s glass doors. The warm, moist aroma of freshly baked bread surrounded me. My stomach immediately churned, wishing I could gobble up some of Sweets’s delectables.
Sweets appeared almost instantly. “Good morning! Welcome to Bailey’s Bakery and Sweets,” she said brightly before evening seeing who she was greeting.
“Good morning, Sweets,” I said with a grin.
“Linda!” She gave me a surprised look.
I nodded. I rarely went anywhere during the morning breakfast rush at Habernackle’s. But once I’d told Reign that I’d decided to pay Sweets a visit, he’d begged me to drop everything and go. “I know, funny seeing me here.”
“Yes, it is! What can I get you?”
Her question made me stop and look at the glass display case full of assorted cupcakes with piles of decadent colored frostings and beautifully designed candies and truffles. I sighed. I hadn’t come in for food, but by golly I was leaving with food. “Oh gosh. I’ll take two slices of your strawberry chocolate mousse cake.”
Her eyes perked up excitedly, but she was calm as she asked me, “To go?”
“Yes, please.”
As she set about preparing my to-go order, she peeked over the display case at me. “You know, this is what I made for you last Thanksgiving.”
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