by Zoe Arden
Witches, Recipes and Murder
Sweetland Witch Series
Zoe Arden
ReedFoster Press House
A Cozy Mystery Book
Contents
Copyright
Like my page
For You Personally
Dedication
About The Author
Personal Word from Zoe
Prologue
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Chapter One
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Chapter Two
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Chapter Three
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Chapter Four
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Chapter Five
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Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight
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Chapter Nine
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Chapter Ten
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Chapter Eleven
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Chapter Twelve
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Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Fourteen
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Chapter Fifteen
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Chapter Sixteen
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Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Eighteen
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Chapter Nineteen
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Chapter Twenty
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Chapter Twenty-one
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Chapter Twenty-two
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Chapter Twenty-three
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Chapter Twenty-four
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Chapter Twenty-five
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Chapter Twenty-six
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Chapter Twenty-seven
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Chapter Twenty-eight
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Chapter Twenty-nine
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Chapter Thirty
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Chapter Thirty-one
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Chapter Thirty-two
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Chapter Thirty-three
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Chapter Thirty-four
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Chapter Thirty-five
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Chapter Thirty-six
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Chapter Thirty-seven
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Chapter Thirty-eigth
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Chapter Thirty-nine
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Chapter Forty
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Chapter Forty-one
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Chapter Forty-two
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Epilogue
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Preview of Next Book
Also By . ORDER OF BOOKS
For You Personally
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by
Zoe Arden
and
ReedFoster press House
All Rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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DEDICATION
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This book is specially dedicated to YOU- the reader!
First of all, I would like to thank you for picking my book and reading it.
Your interest to do so spurs me on to write even better stories, stories that will be capable in bringing us to a world of fun, mystery and suspense, albeit just for a little while.
Your support has always meant a lot to me and I hope you will continue to enjoy reading what I have written.
Thank you!
“ The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible. ”
Oscar Wilde
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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It was from reading Agatha Christie’s mystery books that inspired Zoe to write cozy mystery novels. Zoe liked the fact that cozy mysteries are able to offer readers a form of escapism that typical detective stories can’t.
Like what Marilyn Stasio, who has been the Crime columnist forThe New York TimesBook Review since the late 1980s, recently wrote: “The abiding appeal of the cozy mystery owes a lot to our collective memory, true or false, of simpler, sweeter times.” It is Zoe’s desire that her writings will evoke that nostalgic memory in all of us; those memories of the good old days.
What sets Zoe apart in her writings is her fusing of Mystery with Paranormal elements, a combination which will bring about fantasies that are intriguing and engaging. Her stories contain unexpected twists and sometimes light-hearted moments that will make one smile at Zoe’s quirkiness, fun and wittiness in her writings.
Much Love,
* * *
PERSONAL WORD
FROM ZOE ARDEN
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Hello, lovely reader!
In my stories, you will find a unique juxtaposition of mystery and paranormal themes, an attempt which I believe will be enthralling.
You will discover how a mystery case is being cracked through peeling off layers and layers of suspense and clues.
And fantastical creatures play a part in this…how can it be?
That’s for you to find out.
Thank you once again, for being such an incredible support in my writing career.
Much Love,
Prologue
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Natalie Vargas looked around the empty ferry dock, searching the darkness for Mack. He had to be here. Mack was nothing if not punctual. Even when they'd dated, so many years ago it seemed like another lifetime, he'd never been late for one of their evenings out. Not once. So, when he still hadn't shown up after five minutes, she began to worry.
"Mack?" she called out tentatively.
It was after nine now, and the place was the deserted. The last ferry off the island of Heavenly Haven had left over an hour ago, and the remaining boats that would return them to Florida's mainland were closed up for the night. People didn't linger at the ferry docks after dark. It wasn't that they were dangerous—nothing in Heavenly Haven was particularly dangerous, the island was quite safe—but there was nothing to do here when the sun went down.
The beach was nice, and people walked along its shores even during the middle of the night sometimes, but those people were few and far between. Most of the tourists who came here preferred to see the beaches during the day. They wanted to laugh and play in the water, not stare out at
the vast, black ocean, which never looked more menacing than it did at night.
She walked along the pier, still searching. The sand just beyond the pier was a bright tan color. Even in the darkness, the sand stood out. She looked just past it, onto the beach itself, looking to see if she could make out any figures. She couldn't. Dark structures loomed at the edge of the beach as it began to meld with the streets and town—restaurants, gift shops, that sort of thing—but no people that she could make out.
She turned back around to face the water and walked to the top of the pier where the wooden dock widened into a square. There were benches all along the deck, installed for those awaiting the ferry's arrival. She sat down and took a breath.
If her husband, Bill, knew she was here, he'd lose his mind. She'd begun dating Bill when she and Mack had been on the verge of breaking up but had technically still been a couple. The first time Natalie and Bill went to see a movie, she and Mack hadn't been out on a date in about three weeks, and he hadn't kissed for even longer. Their conversations had consisted of two-minute phone calls that were neither thrilling nor heartfelt. They had become something of a routine, a perfunctory operation performed out of guilt rather than desire.
"What'd you do today?"
"Nothing much."
"Wanna get together later?"
"Can't, I'm busy."
There would be a sigh of relief at this last part, as neither of them had really wanted to get together, yet neither of them had the courage not to ask. When she'd finally broken it off with Mack, there had been tears on both sides, sincere despite their strained relationship. She and Mack had been high school sweethearts, after all. It was hard not to take the breakup emotionally, even if they'd both known it was over for some time.
Bill had been relieved when she'd told him she'd ended things with Mack. They'd begun dating more regularly and had married just after college. She'd lost touch with Mack but had always wondered about him. He'd disappeared off the island for a while, probably gone in search of himself or some other foolish twenty-something adventure. Kids in their early twenties and late teens were always going on foolish adventures.
When he'd opened his bar on the island, just outside their hometown of Sweetland Cove, she'd been surprised but happy to learn he was still alive. He hadn't married, or so she'd heard, but she'd never sought him out to find out for sure. She'd heard some rumors, made some assumptions, and left it all at that. She had no interest in the past. Yet when he'd sent her the letter that had gotten her here, she'd been unable to tell him no.
She was glad he had his own business, but she had no reason to step inside of it. His bar wasn't meant for people like her, anyway. It was on the outskirts of Sweetland Cove, almost so far out that it didn't qualify as part of the town itself. It was meant for high-ranking officials traveling through Heavenly Haven on business. Humans were not allowed in there unless accompanied by someone in the magical world, though any witch or wizard was welcome so long as they weren't there just to drink and get loud.
From what she heard, Mack's Bar was not the type of place you wanted to get drunk in; it was the type of place you went to meet someone for unofficial business—the type of business that had to get done yet could never be put on record.
"Mack?" Natalie called again, wondering for the millionth time why she was here. She had no interest in him; she loved Bill. She just couldn't tell him no when he'd asked for her help. Not without finding out what this was all about, at least.
She heard a creaking noise. Her head snapped around, and she found herself staring at an approaching figure with an egg-shaped head and a large body. She stood up and drew in a breath, held it, and let it back out. "I was beginning to wonder if you were still coming," she said.
"Why would you wonder that?" Mack asked, his voice low. He was trying to keep their volume down.
"You're late," she told him. "You're never late."
He stepped out of the shadows and smiled softly at her. Some people found him strange looking; she had always thought him handsome.
She had never been very good at reading him, though he'd been a master at reading her. There were times when he'd been able to almost read her mind, though of course that had come later in their relationship and had hurt things rather than helped them.
"I wasn't late," he told her. "I was already here when you arrived. I watched you walk up the dock and sit down."
"Why didn't you say something?" she asked, angry. This was just like him.
"I wanted to make sure you weren't followed."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course, I wasn't followed. Why would anyone want to follow me? What is this about, anyway?"
"I need your help."
The moonlight reflected off his pale skin, making him look almost ghostly. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body.
"That's what your letter said, but that's fairly vague. Help with what?" Her throat had gone dry. She licked her lips and forced her voice to remain calm. The last thing she wanted was for Mack to see how nervous she was around him.
He looked around before answering, as if checking to make sure they were really alone. "Someone's after me," he finally said, his voice just above a whisper. She had to step closer to hear him.
"After you?"
Her heart was pounding in her chest. She didn't like this. She wasn't one of those people who found late-night meetings and clandestine affairs exciting. She liked order. Bill gave her order. Mack had always given her chaos. Well... maybe that wasn't fair. The chaos had only begun in the latter part of their relationship. When they'd first started dating, things had been perfect.
"I have something," he said. "Something... dangerous."
"If it's dangerous," she said, "then maybe you should get rid of it."
"I wish I could."
"Why can't you?"
He paused before answering and took a step closer. "This thing I have," he licked his lips, "I've had it for some time now. I can't just let it go."
"Wh-What is it?" she asked, not entirely sure she wanted to know.
"I can't tell you," he said.
"Then why are we here?"
"I need you to hide it for me. Just for a while." He reached into his coat pocket and began to pull something out.
Natalie stepped back, already shaking her head no. "Whatever it is, I don't want it."
He paused, his hand still in his pocket. She could see part of a box poking out.
"It won't hurt you," he said. "Not in and of itself, anyway. And no one will know that you have it."
"What if someone figures it out? What if whoever's after you decides to come after me?"
"They won't."
"How do you know that?"
"Because anyone who knows me knows that you and I broke up a long time ago. It's been over a decade, and we haven't talked once since. You'd be the last place they'd expect me to hide anything." He exhaled. "They'll assume I've got it stored at the bar or at my house."
"Why don't you just give it to a friend?"
"I don't have many friends these days," he said. "And none that I can trust."
"If you can't trust them," she said, "then they can't be much of a friend."
He smiled. "You always saw right through me."
"I never saw through you, but you saw through me plenty," she snapped back, feeling irritated. She wanted to get home. This whole thing was making her nervous. Why had she agreed to meet him to begin with?
Because you always cared for him, even if you didn't love him. She pushed her inner voice out of her head and tried to clear her thoughts.
Mack's smile faded away. "You read me better than anyone before or since you."
She felt herself blush and looked away.
"I'm married now," she told him. "I have two children. I don't have time for games."
"This isn't a game."
"Well, I don't have time for secrets either, and it's certainly one of those." She paused and looked at him. "I never could abide yo
ur secrets, especially toward the end."
"Natalie, please..." he said. "You're the only person I can trust right now."
"Yet you can't tell me what it is you want me to hide?"
He shook his head. "It's for your own protection."
"What if I open the box?" she asked defiantly. "If I'm hiding something for you, then I want to know what it is. I have a right to know what I'm getting myself into."
Mack hesitated. "You're right."
He withdrew the box from his pocket. It was about the size of a book, though the shape of it wasn't right for a book. It was too rectangular. He peeled back one corner.