Witches, Recipes, and Murder (#10, Sweetland Witch Women Sleuths) (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch, #10

By Zoe Arden

When a stranger in Sweetland Cove asks for help... all hexes are off.

Ava Fortune is not your average witch.

Her friends and family keep telling her to stop sleuthing,

But… she just can't help it when a crime falls into her lap... or her bakery.

When a stranger shows up at The Mystic Cupcake asking for her help,

Ava doesn't know what to tell him…

Everywhere she looks, she finds suspects.

She can't do everything, even though she wishes she could,

So, for the first time, Ava says no.

But she just can't stay away from the investigation,

Especially when the killer isn't satisfied with just one death.

He's hunting down her friends and family, including Ava!

Ava will have to enlist the help of her friends and family if she wants to solve this case,

Without them, she can hardly make cake, let alone catch a criminal.

Can Ava find the killer before he strikes again?

Or will she be his next victim?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zoe Arden
• Release date: Feb 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393510505

Zoe Arden

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.

Book preview

prologue

*   *   *

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 your 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.

Wait! she suddenly shouted. Don't!

I thought you wanted to know what it was.

"I changed my mind. I don't want to know. Don't tell me anything else. I need to leave. Now. Whatever it is, I don't want it." She took two steps in the opposite direction.

Natalie, please... I don't have anyone else.

I'm sorry, she told him, glancing back over her shoulder. I hope you get out of whatever jam you're in, but you'll have to do it without my help.

She hurried away from him before he could try and change her mind. If he tried hard enough, he probably could. That, more than anything, bothered her. The idea that even after all these years Mack could still get into her head and convince her to do whatever he wanted was upsetting. She'd thought she was past that.

She shot one last look at him over her shoulder as she hurried home. He was still standing on the dock. She could make out his outline, but his face was hidden in darkness now. She was glad of it. The last thing she needed to see right now was his face. If she saw that hurt look in his eyes, she would probably have changed her mind and gone back to him.

As it was, she saw nothing that could affect her, and by the time she got home, any guilt she'd felt at turning him down was gone. She'd left it behind her at the docks, and it was only when going to sleep that night that she felt it prick at her heart. She turned to Bill then and kissed him hard, surprising him.

What was that for? he asked.

I love you, that's all, she said.

He paused, a shadow crossing his face. I love you, too. Everything all right?

She nodded. Everything's fine.

She turned out her light and went to bed, but she could still feel Bill's eyes on her in the darkness. Eventually, he'd settled back and fallen asleep. He began to snore an hour later. Natalie knew the time because she was still awake, her eyes wide open as she stared at the dark ceiling of their bedroom.

It was not until dawn that she finally fell asleep, and even then she did not sleep soundly. She dreamt that something was after Mack—a monster. It almost had him just as she'd woken up. The image did not fade as most dreams do; it stayed with her throughout the day.

It was only later, when she went for some chocolate fudge happiness brownies at The Mystic Cupcake, that it began to fade, and all thoughts of Mack left her mind. Even then, they weren't really gone, just hidden.

She hated secrets, and hidden things bothered her more than anything, probably because they scared her. You never knew what shadows might jump out at you from the darkness. She wished she'd never met with Mack at all. If he tried writing to her again, she would just have to throw the letter away. She wouldn't even read it. She'd be curious, but she could live with curiosity. What she couldn't live with were those shadows.

*   *   *

0 1

*   *   *

Eleanor! Trixie! I shouted, unable to hide the excitement I was feeling.

Eleanor Rose poked her head into the back room of our bakery. Ava? Did you call? Her blond hair fell across her eyes and she swished it away with one swipe of her finger. Are you finished?

I think so, I told her, pushing my own blond hair behind my ears. I could feel my smile widening and knew I must have looked like a kid at Christmas. Heck, I felt like a kid at Christmas. If my new extract worked as planned, it would change the lives of witches everywhere.

Should I get your dad? Eleanor asked.

What's he doing right now?

Eleanor looked over her shoulder back into the main part of the bakery. It looks like he's helping Natalie Vargas decide between chocolate fudge happiness brownies and caramel calming snickerdoodles.

I sighed. Natalie always had the hardest time making up her mind about things. She was also the world's biggest gossip and had a tendency to linger in the bakery until she'd overheard some juicy piece of information that she could then spread around Sweetland Cove like wildfire.

He could be out there all day with her, I said. Why don't you and Trixie come back here, and I'll give you a demonstration?

Eleanor nodded and spun around.

Wait! I shouted, a new idea springing suddenly to mind.

What am I thinking?

The biggest gossip in Sweetland Cove was just outside these doors. If I went out there and gave a successful demonstration in front of Natalie, every witch in Sweetland Cove would be at Mystic Cupcake in the next hour demanding our new extract. We'd have a bestselling product in an instant.

The only trick was that I couldn't just sell the extract as it was—undiluted in a small glass bottle. It was far too potent like this. Most witches wouldn't know what to do with it. Undoubtedly, someone would take the extract and smear half the bottle over their face in an effort to get the desired effect. Then her skin would probably melt off or she'd break out in hives as big as bee stings and end up in Sweetland Hospital. And I, of course, would be the one to get blamed.

No no no. We'd have to prepare it properly first. Add it to some cookies or brownies or cakes and get everything baked before the crowds started forming.  Since Eleanor was the cake expert, she could be in charge of deciding which flavored cakes my new extract would work best in. Trixie Rose, as frosting expert, could offer her own advice regarding buttercreams, whipped creams, or a simple glaze. I was sure she'd have just as much input on flavors as my father and I would, but I was an extract expert and my dad... well, he was sort of a jack-of-all-trades. Eleanor would have the ultimate decision. My dad could be our taste tester.

First, however, I had to show them what I'd invented.

Eleanor was still standing in the doorway watching me. Well? she asked. Shall I get them or would you prefer that I stand here all day?

I rose from my seat. I'm going out there. 

I sneezed suddenly and almost dropped my extract. Eleanor gasped. My nose itched to sneeze a second time, but I fought it back. There was a small medicine-style cabinet nailed to the wall just above my workstation. I opened it and grabbed an allergy pill. I wasn't about to risk ruining my extract just because of an uncontrolled sneeze. I blew my nose and turned back to Eleanor.

Okay, let's go, I said.

Eleanor's eyes rounded. Are you sure this is the best idea? Natalie's out here. I mentioned that, right?

Yes, but if my extract works like I think it will, then we're going to want to get the word spread. Who better to do that than Natalie? I paused. Just think of it... Ava Fortune's Wrinkle Reducer. It's a goldmine.

Eleanor frowned. Are you sure we shouldn't test it out of sight first? Remember what happened with that wart remover you created?

I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was reminding about that disaster. I'd broken out in warts for a week. Dr. Dunne over at Sweetland Hospital had had to consult with Dr. Wallace over at Mistmoor Hospital, all the way on the other side of the island, in order to come up with a way to remove them.

The outcome had been me drinking a disgusting concoction that looked like mud but which they had assured me contained a variety of green juices, fish eggs, mildew, and I don't know what else—I'd told them to stop explaining it to me after they'd mentioned mildew—every hour, on the hour, for twelve hours straight until the warts were gone.

This won't be like that, I assured my aunt.

Eleanor pursed her lips together but said nothing else on the subject.

I went out into the main bakery where we displayed all of our items and smiled at Natalie and my father.  Aunt Trixie was busying herself with refilling our display case of peppermint patty peppy bars, which were steadily becoming one of our bestselling products. The peppy powder in our peppermint bars would give you the same amount of energy you'd get from drinking ten cups of coffee but without any of the side effects. There would be no crashing afterward, and you would easily be able to fall asleep when the time came.

Hi, Natalie, I said.

Natalie jumped about a foot in the air. Don't scare me like that! she yelled. You shouldn't be sneaking up on people. Don't you know that's rude? Her brown hair was frizzy this morning, which was weird. Usually, she was pretty good about keeping it slicked back even with two kids and a husband to keep her on her toes.

Trixie, Eleanor, and my father all looked from her to me.