In Witch It All Began (Emberdale Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 2
“Sounds delicious, but I’m trying to cut back.” She smiled then, her brown eyes wrinkling in the corners.
“I think Maggie let Sammy in the guest room again.”
“The exterminators still aren’t done with your place?” she asked, helping me to my feet before heading back to the front of the store.
“Almost. The tent comes off tomorrow.” Finally, after a week of Maggie’s hospitality, I’d be able to go home and sleep in my own bed.
“That’s what you get for keeping those bugs in your house.” She placed both hands on her hips and did one of the best impressions of Ida Kensington I’d ever seen. “You know, that collection of yours is the reason you needed the fumigating in the first place. A young lady collecting bugs isn’t natural. You should take up something more mature, like knitting or crochet.”
“Man, you even look like her,” I said, unable to keep from laughing. “All you need is one of her crazy hats.”
“Speaking of Ida, she and Lance were badgering Mr. Morganson earlier this morning.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“About their business license.” She grinned behind her cup of coffee. “They let it lapse, so now they’re sending their customers elsewhere until they pay the fine and have it renewed. I’m surprised you didn’t know. It’s all over town.”
That explained the line of patrons Maggie and I had this morning. “I wondered why we were so busy. Here I thought they’d gotten tired of their bickering.” Harris and Connie could argue over the color of a pencil and while it may have been entertaining at first, I’m sure there were others who preferred to eat their morning breakfast in peace.
“If only.” She rolled her eyes, then set her coffee on the counter so she could grab one of the muffins out of the bag. “What’s this?” She held out one of the extra strawberries Mr. Clark had given me.
“Oh, how did that get in there?”
“You missed one.” She bit into the fruit, her eyes closing. “Maggie needs to use these.”
“I know, right? If she really wanted, she could whip something up this afternoon.”
“That man must have the best fertilizer in the world.”
The way he went on about his garden, I could only imagine. “So why would the Morgansons let the license lapse? It seems like such a silly thing to forget. Besides, isn’t there a grace period for this sort of thing?” It was their business after all.
She shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t have enough to cover it or something better on their minds.”
After all the complaints Harris had filed against Maggie, I doubted it. Back when Maggie first bought Every Last Crumb, Harris Morganson had thrown a fit. It was the best location in town, one of which he bid on. Maggie had the winning bid, so while she got the best location, Harris had to set up shop halfway across town. If that wasn’t bad enough, he accused Maggie of stealing his recipes. The two of them bickered constantly and there were times I expected them to run away together, but then Harris was still married.
“Hey, is that Sammy?” Kat asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
Crap! The gray tabby sat right outside the door, his bright green eyes fixed in my direction. “I swear he knows what he’s doing. I should probably go before Maggie sends the other strays after me.”
Kat giggled and tossed her muffin wrapper in the trash. “Thanks for bringing these by. I was starved!”
“You’re always starved,” I said, opening the front door.
“All the more reason to feed me tasty things.”
“See ya later, Kat.”
She waved goodbye, then returned to her stacks of books, leaving me outside her shop with a very disgruntled Sammy.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was.”
Sammy sat back on his haunches, not blinking. I wasn’t kidding when I said he knew what he was doing. Most of the time he acted like a normal cat, but when I was late? It was as though my dad had been reincarnated. I might not have been able to understand anything he said, but that stare was a death glare if I ever saw one.
Once he had my attention, Sammy glanced in the direction of Maggie’s bakery.
“I’m going, I’m going. Jeez. Aren’t you late for a catnap or something?”
His eyes narrowed, and as I turned for Every Last Crumb, he walked in front of me, periodically glancing over his shoulder to—to what? Make sure I was still following him?
It sounds crazy, but if you knew him the way I did, it would sound completely normal.
One more day.
One more night at Maggie’s, then everything could go back to the way it was.
Chapter Two
Someone was breathing in my ear. No, scratch that. They were purring. I’d recognize that motor-boat anywhere. “Sammy, it’s early,” I said, batting his tail away from my lips. “Go back to sleep.”
He kneaded my pillow, his sharp claws digging under my hair. When one nicked my ear, I shot straight up.
“All right, all right, I’m awake.” Kicking off the covers, I took him in my arms, then set him on the floor. “Where’s Maggie?” The tabby gave me the same disgusted look he’d given me the day before. “Not a morning person, huh? Serves you right. If I’m up, so are you.” When Sammy turned back for the bed, I shooed him away. “Not a chance, big guy.”
There was that look again, his death glare. He’d almost perfected it, and I stifled a laugh. Of course, if Sammy was with me, where had Maggie gone?
“She forget to feed you?” I asked him, rummaging through the pile of clothes I’d placed on the dresser. Of course, every one of my shirts had cat hair on them. “I know you don’t like me staying here,” I said, pushing my arms through the sleeves of one of the sweaters, “but could you please stop messing with my things? Folks don’t like cat hair in their food or with their morning coffee.”
The tabby purred at my feet, weaving in and out of my legs until I knelt down and ran my hand along his back.
Once I finished getting dressed, he ran down the stairs, almost sliding the entire way across the wooden floor to the front door. I knew he could move, but this was a first!
I was about to head into the kitchen when he nipped at my pant leg, causing me to turn back for the door. “I thought you were hungry.”
Ignoring my most recent comment, he paced in front of the door, whining at the top of his lungs (another first).
“What in the world has gotten into you? Okay, okay. We’ll go.” It didn’t look like Maggie was around, anyway. Still, glancing at the gold-rimmed clock on the mantel above the fireplace, it wasn’t even five in the morning, and Maggie didn’t leave the house until 5:30 a.m. “Maybe she wanted to get an early start,” I decided, my mouth watering at the thought of her testing a new recipe before her day began.
Sammy left my last question unanswered or maybe he hadn’t heard me. Either way, with the house empty and seeing as I was dressed, I decided a quick trip to the bakery wouldn’t hurt.
Outside, the sky blushed against the horizon. I might not have been a morning person, but I had to admit there was something magical about watching the sun rise. The way the light slowly blotted out the stars, or how faint shadows slowly crept over the landscape, no wonder Maggie woke as early as she did.
“The best magic happens when everyone else is asleep, right?” I met Sammy’s eyes, repeating something Maggie had told me time and again. It was why she baked. To bring a bit of magic into everyone’s lives.
I’m not sure if I’d call it magic, but a strong cup of coffee did wonders for the body.
As soon as I reached the sidewalk, Sammy picked up the pace, running as I did my best to keep up. My heart skipped a beat as we passed my house with its white tent still in place. I couldn’t believe I’d get to sleep in my own bed tonight with my pillows, my blankets, and no cats!
“Sammy, slow down!” It’s a good thing I didn’t wear heels, but even in my sneakers with their tread close to nonexistent, I had to watch where I stepped.
Our town may have been a spec on a map, but the amount of activity that went on was something I could never walk away from. It wasn’t because we knew each other’s business, but there was always something going on and a ton of things to do. The Harvest Festival was one event among many that happened throughout the year, not to mention the weekly market gathering along with the arts and crafts festivals in the spring.
Maggie always said if you want to start something new, it’s best to do it in the spring. The festivals have everything one could ever need, no matter the hobby. Last year I tried my hand at woodworking, but when the birdhouse fell apart, I decided it wasn’t for me. The year before that, I tried gardening, but compared to Mr. Clark’s prized produce, my results were rather poor.
“Maybe I should try crochet,” I mused aloud, which resulted in a stern glare from Sammy who was already halfway up the hill. “What? I’ve seen you chase a string around Maggie’s living room a ton of times.”
Sammy huffed and sat at my feet, patiently waiting until I caught up before leading me the rest of the way to Maggie’s shop.
“She isn’t here,” I told him, peering through the front windows at a dark dining area. Sammy took off again, rounding the corner when I finally chased after him. “Any chance we can stop this game of cat and mouse soon? I’m not wearing the right shoes for this.”
He didn’t look at me, ducking inside the cat door Maggie had in the back. Well that’s just great. In my rush to catch him, I’d forgotten my keys. I hadn’t been too worried about it before as I figured Maggie would let me in, only she wasn’t there. In fact, it seemed as though no one had been to the bakery since we closed last night.
“I’m going home,” I said, turning on my heels as I did. There was a soft click, and when I faced the door again, it opened. “Okay, that’s only a little creepy.”
Glancing up and down the alley to see if anyone was around, I ducked into the back of the kitchen’s cramped quarters. Feeling around for the light switch, I scanned the room. The kitchen was as spotless as ever, all of the utensils, pots, and pans in the same place as before.
“She isn’t here,” I said again, but when I went to leave, he lay in front of me. “Come on, Sam. Maybe she’s over with Mr. Clark.” They opened around the same time and seeing as he was her main supplier for all of the produce she used, perhaps she got caught up in one of his stories.
Sammy glared at me again, his eyes focused on something behind me. A piece of string hung from the edge of the dishwasher.
“And you thought my suggestion of crochet was weird,” I told him.
Checking the counters again along with the walk-in freezer, everything was exactly the same. Aside from Sammy’s fur which he decided to shed all over the place, everything was right where it belonged.
“Can we leave now so you don’t get your fur in the morning tarts?” Just because I teased Kat about putting it on her muffin, that didn’t mean I wanted to share the experience with everyone else.
Apparently pleased with my search, Sammy headed back outside, waiting for me to close the door before joining him in the alleyway. By the time we went around to the front of the store, Mr. Clark was walking up the street. He waved a kind greeting and met me in front of his shop.
“You’re here early,” he said, unlocking the front door to The Market. “Maggie not feeling well?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her since last night.”
“Seems you have a shadow.” He nodded in Sammy’s direction.
“Yeah. Woke up to him purring in my ear. It’s so strange. He’s almost never away from Maggie. Did she happen to come back here last night after we left?”
“Afraid not, but if you happen to see her before I do, tell Maggie I have an entire case of those strawberries.”
“She’s going to use them?” I asked, following him inside.
“Yup. Paid for them yesterday afternoon.”
“She’ll probably send me out to grab them after I get things started in the kitchen.”
“I’d better get a sample,” he said, rifling through one of the refrigerators to remove a container of milk.
“You’ll get an entire tray. Promise.” I waved goodbye, then headed back outside where Detective Lance was waiting for me. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Decked out in his brown blazer and denims, Lance met my gaze. It could have been the lighting or my lack of sleep, but he appeared paler than usual.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” he said, fixing his glasses.
This can’t be good. “Your mom not get the gossip she wanted yesterday?” I tried to convince myself the chill running up my spine was from the wind and not the man standing in front of me.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“You both need to come with me.”
Frowning, I glanced at Sammy. What did you do? As if a cat could do anything to get the detective involved. “Where’s Maggie? Is she okay?”
“What makes you think this is about Maggie?” He asked, removing a pen and pad of paper from his breast pocket before facing me again.
“She’s missing. Or, well, I think she is.”
“I’m listening.”
Of course he was! I rolled my eyes and hugged my arms around myself. “I don’t understand what you and your mother get out of harassing—”
“Watch your tone.”
“Well, unless you have something to say, I really should get the bakery ready to open.” It was the least I could do after promising a tray of tarts to Mr. Clark.
“I’m afraid the bakery’s closed today.”
“Don’t tell me our license lapsed as well.”
Lance sighed and pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger, his eyebrows pinching above his eyes as he did. “Astrid, maybe you should sit down.”
Sit where? The only thing around was the curb of the sidewalk. “Where’s Maggie?” I asked, looking from him to the bakery behind me.
Lance was quiet for a long unnerving moment, and the hard expression I was used to seeing on him was quickly replaced with an expression I didn’t quite recognize. “She’s dead.”
Dead? The breath rushed from my lungs and I grabbed at the air, catching myself on the wall. “What?” No. If it were true, if Maggie… “Please tell me this is a joke. Okay, Maggie, you got me. You can come out now.” My voice cracked, and when Maggie didn’t jump out from behind a bush, the sick feeling in my stomach grew.
Detective Lance didn’t budge, squaring his shoulders after putting his pad of paper away. “I wish it were, but Maggie’s body was found—”
“Don’t,” I told him, doubling over as I placed a palm flat against the wall. “Please.”
Dead? Maggie couldn’t be dead. Why wasn’t Sammy with her? Why hadn’t anyone called me?
“Dead?” I croaked, swallowing around the nausea in my throat.
“This is terrible timing,” he went on, hovering beside me, “but I need you to come with me.”
And go where? I wanted to ask him, but as soon as I lifted my gaze and saw his silver Station Wagon parked out front, I knew.
“And Sammy?” I asked.
“He’s coming as well,” Lance reminded me, turning for his car.
“Why? Why can’t you talk to me here?” Getting in his car or going down to the station would make this real. I didn’t want real. I wanted to go home, sleep in my own bed, and wake up to when none of
this ever happened.
“Because the only thing holding you up right now is that wall.” His eyes softened. “Come on, I know where we can go. You too, Sammy.”
Surprisingly, Sammy followed at my heels, joining me inside Lance’s car. I half expected Lance to drive me to the station, to turn me in to the chief of police, but not this. Once we reached his car, he sat in the backseat with me. Sammy kneaded my lap, his claws catching on my jeans.
“Where?” I coughed to force the air from my lungs.
“Where what?”
“Where is she?” Where did you find her, I wanted to ask but thought better of it.
“Your house.”
“My what?” I looked at him with wide eyes, my heart dipping into the pit of my stomach. “Why? How?”
“That’s what we’re here to find out. You said you thought she was missing?”
I nodded and swallowed around the lump in my throat. This isn’t happening. It was a dream. A very messed up dream.
“Sammy was in the guest room with me.”
“At Maggie’s?”
“Yes. I was staying with her because of the fumigation.” Oh god, Maggie. I refused to believe it.
“Which makes this even more concerning.”
“I’m a suspect, aren’t I?” I knew how these things went, and the fact they found Maggie in my house didn’t sound good.
“If this were any other town and any other case, yes.”
Okay, now he’d lost me. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s… hard to explain.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and when he regarded me again, his eyes were sincere. “Did Maggie ever tell you what she does?”
“She owns a bakery.” What was so special about that? “Was she undercover?”
“Sort of.”
“A secret operative, then.”
He shook his head, then slipped out of the backseat. “I’ll explain more once we get to the station. Max sent a few guys over to your place and asked me to come here in case you’d already left.” Max being our chief of police. “It’s a good thing I did, too.”
“So, I’m not a suspect but you’re taking me in for questioning anyway?”