Witch Way to the Bakery

by Zoe Arden

  "No, he hasn't," I said.

  We asked her a few more questions but she'd already told us everything she knew. We thanked Lucy for her time and went back to my car. We didn't get in though, we just stood around it, talking quietly and trying to figure things out.

  "That's weird," Lucy said, vocalizing what we were both thinking. "You think your dad could be the one who's possessed?"

  "I don't know. Felicity said Sadie was with him. Maybe she started out infected with the dark spirit, then it jumped to him."

  "Or vice versa," Lucy said. "It could've started with him and jumped to her."

  "How are we supposed to know?"

  Lucy dug her phone out and dialed a number.

  "Who are you calling?" I whispered but she waved me off.

  "Hello? It's Lucy... No, Edith, we're not harassing you. I just had a—" She rolled her eyes. "Would you rather we came back down to your shop or called you with our question? Our last question?" There was a pause and then, "Okay. Have Lucy's father or Sadie Belle been into your shop recently to purchase... When?" She smiled. "Thank you," she said and hung up.

  "That clinches it. Your dad and Sadie were in Edith's shop together about a week and a half ago, probably the same time they were in Felicity's. They bought some of Edith's cupcakes, the same ones with the wrappers."

  "Why didn't she tell us that before?"

  "She said she didn't like our tone," Lucy said and rolled her eyes.

  "So, you're saying it's definitely one of them who's possessed and killing people."

  "Definitely."

  "But which one?" I asked her.

  "That," she said, "is what we need to figure out."

  I took out the cupcake wrapper I'd found beneath the dead tourist's body and examined it, as if it alone could answer our questions.

  A black sedan a few cars down from ours honked. A hand stuck out the side of a window and waved at us.

  "Who is that?" Lucy asked.

  I stared at the hand. Slowly, the car door opened and the man it was attached to stepped out.

  "Oh, my roses," I said. "It's Mike Bison."

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  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

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  "What are you doing here?" I said as Bison approached us. He was dressed in a heavy black suit and looked more like an undertaker than a cop. His brow was sweating, and he looked uncomfortable, though I was certain he would never admit to such a thing as discomfort.

  "I'm following you," he said so bluntly that for a moment Lucy and I looked at each other, startled, no idea what to say in response.

  I felt my nerves kick into overdrive and began to twirl the cupcake wrapper around in my hand. "What's that?" Bison asked, indicating the wrapper.

  I wished I had a time machine, so I could go back and rewind things, even if just for a few seconds.

  "Oh, nothing," I said and quickly stuffed it back into my pocket.

  Bison was already narrowing his eyes at me. "What was that?" he asked again.

  "Nothing," Lucy said. "A cupcake wrapper. We're standing outside a bakery, after all."

  "That's suspicious in and of itself," he said.

  "What's suspicious about wanting pastries?" I asked, almost laughing at the thought.

  "You work at a bakery," Bison said to me. "You can get all the pastries you want for free. Why come to Mistmoor? And why would you save a cupcake wrapper? Most people throw those away."

  I opened my mouth to answer but nothing came out.

  "There's something you're not telling me," he said. I had to admit, he had pretty good instincts. Or maybe it was just that my face was incapable of hiding anything. I never could keep a secret for very long, try as I might. It wasn't that I divulged anything anyone told me, it was that my face always gave me away.

  "You say that a lot," I finally told him.

  "Say what?"

  "That I look suspicious. Seems like that's the only phrase you know. You're aware of that, right?"

  Bison frowned. "You're trying to change the subject. What are you two doing in Mistmoor Point?"

  "None of your business," Lucy said and turned away from him. She got into the car and looked at me impatiently. I followed her lead and got into the driver's seat, afraid Bison might try to stop me. He didn't, and I drew in a fresh breath of air.

  "What are you doing?" he asked as I ignored the look on his face.

  "We're going home is what we're doing," I told him. "Back to Sweetland. You just said that's where we belong, anyway. That we have no right to be here."

  "That's not at all what I said. You're twisting my words."

  "You're twisting them all by yourself," Lucy snapped. "You don't need any help from us."

  "I'd think you'd want to answer my questions," Bison said. "After all, I'm only trying to catch a killer who’s running rampant in your town. Or is there some reason you don't want me to catch him. Or her." He emphasized that last word as if he was directing it at one of us. As if he thought Lucy or I were the killer.

  "Of course, I want the killer caught," I told him. "But that doesn't mean I think innocent people should have to suffer your interrogations."

  "Innocent like your friend here?" he asked.

  "I've never killed a ladybug let alone a person," Lucy snapped at him.

  "I didn't mean you," Bison said, looking at the display window for Cakes and Creations. Lucy and I exchanged a glance.

  "Wh-What are you talking about?" I asked.

  "I told you already. I've been following you. All morning."

  "All morning?" I gulped, thinking of everything that had happened so far today.

  "That's right."

  "Wait a second," Lucy said. "Were you there when our car spun out of control?"

  "I was, or at least, I wasn't far behind." He looked at me. "You're quite the speed nut, you know that? I don't know how you even get that little car to go so fast."

  My throat felt dry. I said nothing about the fact that I'd used a speed charm on Eleanor's car to amp things up. The normal drive from Sweetland to Mistmoor took about two to three hours. I preferred to do it in an hour to an hour and a half.

  "I had a hard time keeping up with you. When I finally caught up to you, you were standing outside your car at the bottom of a hill and smoke was coming out of your engine. You were so distracted you didn't even notice me. I just pulled off the road, hid my car behind some bushes, and watched."

  Lucy’s eyes bugged out of her head. "You didn't stop to help us?" she screeched. "What kind of a cop are you?"

  "If either of you had actually been injured or unable to restart your car," he said quickly, "I would, of course, have stopped to help." For once, he looked somewhat ashamed. His cheeks flushed pink, and he averted his eyes.

  I shuddered. The idea that I'd been watched all morning unnerved me. Talk about creepy.

  Bison watched us another moment, then moved around us and back toward Felicity's shopfront window. He looked like he was about to go in.

  "What are you doing?" I said, stopping him.

  "I talked to Edith Woodruff," he said, stopping and turning back to us.

  My heart began a slow pound deep inside my chest. "You talked to Edith?" I asked, feeling breathy and lightheaded. Would this day never end?

  "Yes. Maybe you two had better step back out of the car, unless you'd like to me to go inside and interrogate your friend here. From what Ms. Woodruff tells me, the three of you are pretty chummy."

  I let out a sigh. Slowly, Lucy and I stepped out of the car and shut the doors.

  "Now then," he said. "Why don't you tell me your side of things?"

  "Our side?" Lucy asked. "Our side to what?"

  "Ms. Woodruff told me you've been harassing her. Making accusations against her and her customers. Is this true?"

  "No," I snapped. "All we did was ask Edith a few questions, much like you're do
ing with us now."

  "So, you haven't been staking out her bakery, looking to ruin her reputation?"

  "Ruin her...!" Lucy's face turned red. Steam practically came out of her ears. "Her reputation was ruined long before we ever came along!" Lucy shouted. "Why do you think she opened Creams, Cakes, and Creations? Because no other bakery would have her, that's why! She's too deep into dark magic for even the most—"

  I grabbed her wrist and squeezed, and she stopped talking almost immediately, clapping her hand to her mouth. I groaned inwardly. With her hand over her mouth, she looked even more obvious.

  "Dark what?" Bison asked, squinting like the sun was in his eyes. "Did you say... dark magic?"

  "No," Lucy replied. "I said dark... havoc. As in Edith Woodruff creates havoc wherever she goes."

  "Havoc?" he asked skeptically. He folded his arms across his chest. "There's something funny going on here." He waited a beat and when neither of us said anything, he started toward Cakes and Creations. "I'm going to question Felicity Redfern. You two stay here."

  "Wait a second," I shouted. "Why are you questioning Felicity? For what?"

  "Ms. Woodruff told me that Ms. Redfern is responsible for the cupcake wrapper that was found under the last victim's body, Red Finn. Since neither your bakery nor Sweets n' Treats—the only two bakeries in Sweetland Cove—sell cupcakes with those exact wrappers, I have to believe Ms. Woodruff is telling me the truth and that wrapper came from here."

  He reached for the door. "Wait!" I shouted.

  He paused, hand on the door. I had to do something to get rid of this guy. He was never gonna stop.

  I reached into my pocket and withdrew the cupcake wrapper. "This is from the first crime scene. The one with your friend, Dave Harley." I handed it to him.

  His eyes widened.

  "What are you saying?" he asked, his voice croaking as he looked the wrapper over, turning it in his hands. "Did you take this from a crime scene?"

  "I found it," I told him. "I... I meant to give it to Colt but I forgot."

  "So, you did take it," he said.

  I sighed. "Yes, I did."

  "That's a crime in and of itself."

  "You have no jurisdiction here," I reminded him. "You can't arrest me."

  "Anyone can make a citizen's arrest," he replied.

  "There's no need to do that," Lucy said, stepping between us. She turned to Bison. "Look, you wanted to know what we were hiding, well, this was it. This wrapper."

  "That's all?" he asked.

  "That's all," Lucy replied. "And we don't even know where it came from."

  "If this is the only shop on Heavenly Haven to use these wrappers, then I think it's pretty obvious where it came from," he said.

  "Only this isn't the only shop," I told him. "Edith's shop used to use them, too."

  "Used to?" he asked.

  "They got rid of them shortly after Dave Harley's body was found. That's awfully suspicious, don't you think?" I asked.

  "Actually... I do," he said, stroking his chin the way Colt sometimes did. "If what you're saying is true—"

  "It is."

  "—then Ms. Woodruff lied to me, and I don't care to be lied to." He carefully folded up the wrapper and placed it in a plastic baggy, and then his back pocket.

  "If I find out that you two have been withholding anything else," he said, pointing his finger at us.

  "We're not," I told him.

  He shook his head and went back to his car. Lucy and I waited until he was gone, then hurried back inside Cakes and Creations to warn Felicity that Bison would almost certainly return, probably after he was finished interrogating Edith.

  "Thanks for the heads up," she said.

  "Sorry to drag you into this," Lucy told her. Though Felicity and I were friends, she and Lucy were closer. They'd known each other longer, both having grown up on Heavenly Haven.

  "Let us know what happens," I told her.

  "I'll text you both later," she said.

  Lucy and I got back into my car and headed for home.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

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  "What do we do now?" Lucy asked as I stepped on the gas and got onto the road that would take us back to Sweetland Cove. "Mike Bison is poking around Mistmoor Point like he's Miss Marple."

  "No way," I said. "Miss Marple would have a lot more class and a lot less ego."

  Lucy paused, looking out the window. The land itself always looked so vast when you were just watching it go by. It wasn't until you tried to actually get out and go somewhere that you realized how small the island of Heavenly Haven actually was.

  "Do you think maybe we're being a little hard on him?" Lucy asked.

  "Who? Mike Bison?"

  She nodded. "I was just thinking... if he really was friends with that tourist, Dave Harley, then can you blame him for being so grumpy all the time? So bent on finding the killer even if it means driving us nuts in the process?" She turned back to me. "I know that if it was you who'd been killed, nothing would stop me from hunting down the murderer."

  "Yes, but he thinks everybody is a killer or in on it or something."

  "I wouldn't care what anybody said or did, and I would probably be suspicious of everyone." She hesitated just a moment. "You were suspicious of me," she said.

  "That was different. I thought you were possessed. He just thinks everyone is a serial killer."

  "That's only because he doesn't know the truth about what's going on."

  I groaned because I knew she was right.

  "I hadn't thought about it like that," I told her.

  Now that she'd said it aloud, I realized she had a point. If Lucy had been murdered, what wouldn't I do to track down her killer? Heck, I barely knew Red and didn't know Dave Harley at all, and already I was going out of my way to track down their murderer. If it had been someone I really cared about who'd died... I suppose I might come off as a bit gruff. And nosy. And irritating.

  "Maybe next time we see Bison, we can try to be a little more understanding," I said.

  Lucy nodded her agreement.

  We passed Whisper Crossing; the car made a lurching, grinding noise but kept on going. I let out a sigh of relief but continued to hold my breath every time we went over a bump in the road. I noticed that Lucy did the same.

  "Are you sure it was a good idea to give him that cupcake liner?" Lucy asked after a while.

  I shrugged. "He needed something to keep him occupied. That did the trick, wouldn't you say?"

  "I suppose so."

  "Look," I told her, "we were done with that cupcake wrapper. Between Felicity and Edith, we learned everything we were going to learn from it. It was useless to us now. So, why not let him have it? Especially if it helps him to feel useful?"

  I was starting to wonder if that wasn't Bison's biggest problem—the feeling of uselessness. When a cop's friend died, it must be that much more difficult not to be involved in the investigation. You'd probably feel useless, and no one wanted to feel useless. After all, you were a cop. You should've protected your friend somehow, even if it was out of your control. At least, that was how I thought I'd feel.

  "You're right," Lucy said, "we learned everything we could from that cupcake wrapper." She continued staring out the window. "Do you think it's your dad or Sadie who's possessed? It's gotta be one of them."

  "I don't know." I felt rather useless myself at the moment. "Let's just get to Mystic. We can fill Eleanor and Trixie in and see what they can come up with."

  When we finally made it back to the bakery, it was late afternoon. I hurried inside and almost collided with two customers who were just leaving. They glared at me then continued on their way.

  "There you are," Trixie said when Lucy and I walked in. "We were just wondering what had become of you two." She looked anxiously at me. Eleanor hurried up beside her.
/>   "Yes," Eleanor said. "Is everything okay?" She directed the question to both of us but I knew it was meant for me.

  "Yes," I told her. "Lucy's not the killer."

  They breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the witches," Eleanor said. "All day long I've been worried I sent you off to your own murder." She started to giggle nervously. I couldn't quite read Lucy's expression. It was equal parts amusement and irritation.

  "I'm sorry, Lucy dear," Eleanor said. "I never really thought you were the killer. We just had to be sure, you know?"

  "I called Sheriff Knoxx and he confirmed a few things for me," I told her. I'd fill them in on the rest of our trip later, for now, I had to get to the important stuff.

  "The cupcake wrapper we found came from Cakes and Creations," I told them. "And you'll never guess who bought some of the very cupcakes that came with those wrappers." I didn't wait for them to actually guess, though Trixie opened her mouth to do so. "My dad!"

  The back room door swung open and my dad came out. "Did I hear you call me?" he asked when he saw me standing there.

  "Oh, er, yeah. I was just... wondering how Sadie was feeling today?"

  He was licking his fingers, a cream-colored cupcake wrapper with black sparkles in his hand. He rolled it up into a ball and tossed it in the trash.

  "What was that?" I asked, staring at him.

  "What?"

  "Was that a... cupcake?"

  "Oh. Yes. Sadie had a craving for something darker than what we sell the other day. I know it's a bit taboo but I took a drive to Creams, Cakes, and Creations and picked up a few of their less sordid cupcakes for her."

  "When was this?" Eleanor asked, her face paling.