Portion Disaster (#6, Sweetland Witch Women Sleuths) (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch, #6

By Zoe Arden

Murders are never far from cupcakes in Sweetland Cove...

Ava Fortune is celebrating her twenty-second birthday with just a few witches, a few sweets...

And a murder.

When all eyes in Sweetland turn to Polly Peacock as their prime suspect, Ava will have to decide who to believe.

Polly's dangerous.

She's a criminal.

She should be back behind bars.

That's what most of Sweetland says but is it true?

There's more happening in Sweetland than simple murder.

Everyone has a secret, and no one wants to share.

And Polly's not going back to prison.

Ava can't trust her but then she can't trust anyone.

When Ava finds herself among the suspects, she turns to her boyfriend Colt Hudson for help.

Soon Colt's life is in danger, too.

Can Ava figure out who the real villain is before it's too late, or was the town of Sweetland Cove right all along?

If Polly's not the killer, then who else could it be?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zoe Arden
• Release date: Feb 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393588955

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

*   *   *

Polly Peacock took a deep breath and addressed the men and women surrounding her.

I regret everything. Every crime I committed, every time I used dark magic. All of it.

She watched the faces of those judging her. They ranged from livid to concerned to confused. No one looked happy. The only one who looked bored was President Todd Ashby, the man whose final say would mean the difference between returning to her cell at Swords and Bones, a maximum-security prison, or returning to freedom and the home she'd thought she'd lost forever.

This was the last in a series of hearings, and Dean Lampton had assured the Council on Magic and Human Affairs that he could handle things alone. As the head of the Council, affectionately dubbed COMHA by the greater witching world, they had trusted him to keep things in order.

President Ashby stared blankly ahead. A man of sixty, his thick, gray hair and dark, handsome eyes had helped secure his victory not long ago in the Witch and Warlock World Elections. He'd easily won North and South America, as the Witching Times had predicted he would. Lin Kay had won Asia, and Polly couldn't remember who'd gotten Europe or the others. Living in a wizard's prison made it difficult to keep up with the things happening around you.

Unlike the human world, wizard presidents ruled over entire continents, not just countries. North and South America were ruled together since they were both Americas, though some argued they should maintain separate presidents since they were still separate continents. But the wizard population in both countries together was still far less than the wizard population in Europe alone.

In general, continents were considered the best way to rule. There weren't nearly as many witches and warlocks as there were humans, so it made sense to divide things up by larger territories. Of course, each city and town could elect its own mayor, and sometimes there were paranormals who had no use for a wizard president at all. Goblins always elected their own kings, and vampires... well, vampires did what vampires wanted to do.

If human organizations like MAPP—Mothers Against Paranormal Predators—got their way, all of that would change. There would be no more wizard presidents, no more wizards. In fact. MAPP would like to take all the paranormals and drop them off the face of the Earth. It was just lucky for the wizarding community that most humans thought MAPP consisted of looney-toon women who had too much time on their hands and drank too much champagne with their brunch.

When President Ashby said nothing, Polly cleared her throat to try again.

I wasn't thinking clearly when I committed those crimes. Slater Winston was... charming. I thought I was in love with him. It was all a trick. He was only using me. I see that now.

Warden Myron Banks stood up and pounded his fist on the table. Slater Winston is human, he yelled, his eyebrows drawing together in an ugly frown. She makes it sound as if he... he'd hexed her or something. She wished he'd have remained as silent as he'd been for the last five minutes. He'd been almost violently opposed to her release since COMHA had first proposed it.

No, Polly said quickly, twirling one strand of blond hair around her finger. Her eyes darted from the warden to the guards back to President Ashby.

And what about your escape just last year? Warden Banks continued. "Was that all Margaret Binford's fault? If Slater didn't hex you, did she? His eyes were blazing. He turned to President Ashby, his dark hair spinning into his eyes. Polly Peacock is responsible for the death of her own mother."

No! Polly shouted, her voice rising. Her hands shook as she addressed President Ashby directly. I take full responsibility for my actions. No one hexed me. But my mother... She gulped at the memory. Even though she hadn't killed Anastasia Peacock herself, the person she'd been working with at the time—Margaret Binford—had.

My mother's death is something I can never take back. I will always regret working with Margaret Binford. If I'd known what she was capable of, I would never have agreed to anything she suggested.

Warden Banks scoffed. "She suggested? You're telling me that it wasn't your idea to try and sacrifice Damon Tellinger and Ava Fortune? That you didn't want your powers restored through the blood ritual?"

Polly hesitated. It wasn't my idea to kidnap Ava or Damon, she said, biting her lip. It was Margaret's and Slater's. She wished she had never heard the name Slater Winston. Her old boyfriend had been nothing but trouble since she'd first met him. Margaret had been even worse.

Dean Lampton cleared his throat. Mr. President, he began, bowing dramatically, as discussed in our previous meetings, COMHA's new plan for a prison work release program would never allow anyone truly dangerous to be on the streets.

Ha! shouted one of the guards, Elizabeth Rambler. Her cheeks reddened as everyone looked at her. Her dark hair framed her pale face in such a way that even when it was pulled into a tight bun as it was now, you could still tell how thick and luxurious it was. Her skin glowed. She was frequently compared to Snow White, despite having the temper of the evil queen.

I'm sorry, Elizabeth shouted, now that she had everyone's attention, but Warden Banks is right. Releasing Polly Peacock, or anyone else for that matter, is about as stupid as watering your flowers when it's raining outside.

Now look here, Dean Lampton yelled, raising one finger in Elizabeth's direction.

No, you look here, she shouted back at him. "I've worked at Swords and Bones and that country club of a prison, Wormwood Work Camp, where Polly was first sent before her escape, so we've known each other for quite some time. She's no good. She'll never change."

That's not true! Polly shouted. I've already changed. Being at Swords and Bones has taught me the value of... of...

Of what? President Ashby asked, speaking for the first time.

Of freedom. Of what it means not to have any. She gulped as her voice cracked. Of the little things in life, like... kindness. Like thanking someone when they help you.

Sean Usher took a step forward. If Elizabeth Rambler was the meanest female guard at Swords and Bones, Sean was the meanest male guard. Everyone knew he had a mad crush on Elizabeth and would have done anything to get into her good graces.

Can I just remind everyone of one important aspect to all this which I think is being overlooked? Sean asked. They stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Dean Lampton says that no murderers are to be included in this work release program of COMHA's but Polly Peacock is a murderer. She killed Margaret Binford."

That's right, Warden Banks shouted. What do you say to that, Lampton? He was grinning at Dean with an expression so smug it made Polly's blood boil. She hated being talked about like she wasn't there, and that's all they'd done all morning.

I wasn't convicted on that! Polly shouted.

Dean held up one hand, waving her off. This program was important to him. She knew it was only because of some sort of tax incentive COMHA would get if it went into effect but she didn't care. He was trying to help her.

As Miss Peacock has just stated, Dean said, "she was never convicted of Margaret Binford's murder. That was ruled self-defense."

Ha! Elizabeth shouted again, rolling her eyes. That's ridiculous! How can you be such a warthog? Are you always so dumb or— Warden Banks placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and shook his head, warning her off from saying anything further.

Self-defense or not, Warden Banks said, she is responsible for a host of crimes that affected both Sweetland Cove and Mistmoor Point. Crimes for which she has not sufficiently paid.

All of Polly's magical powers have been removed, Dean said quickly. Both her powers as a witch and those of her pixie heritage. I promise you she is no threat to anyone.

What do you think? President Ashby asked, addressing Polly. Do you think you've paid sufficiently for your crimes? He glanced at his watch. Polly wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or a bad one. Her throat felt dry as she tried to speak.

I'm not sure that I can ever truly finish paying for my crimes, she said, trying to think of the best way to express what she was feeling. I mean... how can you ever make up for hurting people?

Oh, for witch's sake! Warden Banks cried, his face going red. "Anastasia Peacock died because of her actions. She is responsible for the death of her own mother!"

Polly burst into a fresh round of tears. If I could give my life to bring her back. I would. She looked tearfully up into the eyes of President Ashby, who was watching her intently now. It's for my mother that I want to do this. I want to prove to myself, and everyone else, that I've changed. I... I want to make her proud of me.

President Ashby looked around at their little group before checking his watch again. We'll try the program for a month, he finally said. Start small. Miss Peacock and that girl from Witch Hill—what was her name?—Calista Woodruff. Let them both out. If nothing goes wrong, we'll see about letting out others.

Polly was so happy her tears flowed even faster, pooling at her feet. Warden Banks glared at her. He moved swiftly toward her, catching her off guard.

If you make one wrong move, he growled, his hot, garlic breath blowing on her face, I'll make sure you never see the light of day again. Ever.

*   *   *

0 1

*   *   *

Ava! Trixie cried. Ava, look at this.

I turned toward my aunt. Trixie stood at the bottom of the ladder she'd been using all morning. She lifted her hand into the air and the streamer she'd left dangling from the ceiling began to twist on its own. It moved from one end of the room to the other, affixing itself in a far corner so that it was completely stretched out. Glitter melded with the pink crepe paper as if it had been there all along. The entire bakery began to glow a soft silver as the lights hit the glitter and bounced off.

Well? Trixie asked, looking from Ava to Eleanor. What do you think?

I like it, I told her.

Eleanor, Trixie's older sister, smiled broadly. Glitter, she muttered, shaking her head. No birthday party is complete without glitter. Why didn't I think of that?

Because your brain is muddled with old age, Trixie said, laughing. Whereas mine is still young and vibrant.

Eleanor's brow furrowed. Her bright blond hair—a trait Ava shared with both of her aunts—swung around her head in a soft halo. "The last time I checked, we were both in our forties."

Yes but I'm just barely into them. You've been there for quite some time. Besides, if anyone asks, I'm thirty-nine.

You've been thirty-nine for the last three years, Eleanor said.

Witch's prerogative, Trixie said, still smiling. She winked at me and turned to grab another streamer.

Eleanor lifted one hand, pointed her pinky at her younger sister, and twirled it around in the air. Trixie's hair lifted toward the ceiling and took Trixie with it. Her feet dangled off the ground.

Hey! Trixie shouted. Put me down!

I tried not to laugh but it was impossible. Trixie's hot pink leggings kicked out from under her and the bright yellow shirt she wore flared around her tummy. She looked like a piece of Easter candy. She struggled against Eleanor's spell for a minute before finally lifting her hand and washing it over her body, uttering a soft incantation as she did so. She dropped to the ground, her hair a messy tangle around her shoulders.

When you mess with your sister's hair, Trixie said, attempting to straighten out her long locks, you've crossed a line. She tried using her fingers as a comb to smooth out the knots that had formed but her rings kept getting caught in them.

When you call your sister old, Eleanor said, "you've crossed a line."

They stood glowering at each other, their hands on their hips. Their lips were pursed so tightly they looked like a couple of fish.

I have news for both of you, I told them. "I turned twenty-two today. To me, you're both old."

Their eyes widened. My father, Eli Fortune, laughed from the corner where he'd retreated when Eleanor and Trixie's bickering had begun. He knew better than to get in their way.

You can't be mad at me for saying that, I told Eleanor and Trixie as their glares turned from each other to me. It's my birthday. I'm pretty sure that means I get to say and do whatever I want.

They looked at each other and a second later their frowns turned to grins. The three of us started giggling.

If your mother were here, Eleanor said, shaking her head, I'm pretty sure she'd send you to your room. She was older than both of us.

The thought of my mother interrupted my giggles. Even though she'd died shortly after I was born, there were times I felt as if I'd known her. My father and my aunts always painted such a vivid picture of her that I could close my eyes and see her anytime I wished.

Come on, my dad said, clapping his hands together, we've still got a lot to do before the party tonight.

Trixie grabbed another set of streamers, and Eleanor went back to work on her expansion charm. Our bakery, The Mystic Cupcake, was only large enough to hold a couple dozen people. She was attempting to make it big enough to hold a few hundred.

Do you really think we need to expand it so much? I asked Aunt Eleanor. I mean, how many people are really going to show up to my party tonight aside from you and Lucy?

You can never be sure, Eleanor said. I invited everyone.

I blinked. Everyone? You mean... everyone here in Sweetland Cove? Our town was small but it still held roughly 2500 people. I didn't think they would all be showing up this evening. Not all of them even liked me. I'd only been on the island a year or so and was still considered an outsider by many.

No, of course not, Eleanor said, laughing lightly. My shoulders relaxed. I invited everyone on Heavenly Haven.

My eyes bulged from their sockets. You what? I squealed. "You invited everyone on the entire island?"

Eleanor looked at me as if I'd lost my marbles. Of course, I did. Why shouldn't I?

I looked at my father, who just shrugged.

Why would you invite everyone in Mistmoor? I asked. They don't like anyone in Sweetland Cove.

Mistmoor Point was the only other town on Heavenly Haven, a small island off the coast of Florida. Mistmoor and Sweetland had never exactly gotten along.

There are exceptions, Eleanor said.

That's true, Trixie jumped in. What about Felicity? And Lincoln?

Your aunts have a point, my dad said. Tazzie Singer has always been friendly with Sweetland. You wouldn't want to exclude her, would you?

No, I just... I let out a loud sigh. I was looking forward to my party this evening, I just didn't want anything to go wrong. Mistmoor and Sweetland didn't mix well together. It seemed like the sort of set up that was just asking for trouble. Then again, there were only a handful of people from Mistmoor likely to show up. I'd be happy to see Felicity, Lincoln, and Tazzie. I doubted anyone else from there would come.

Okay, I said, sighing and picking up a crystal bowl.

Besides, Eleanor said, even Mistmoor needs something to take its mind off this Polly Peacock nonsense.

I set the bowl on a counter as the door chimed and Natalie Vargas walked in. For once, she wasn't dragging her two small children along with her.

Did I hear you say Polly Peacock? Natalie asked. She had brown hair that was tied back into a low ponytail. She tugged at it, her eyes shining brightly, as she waited for the latest bit of gossip.

I was just saying that we needed something to take our minds off things, Eleanor told her, trying to ignore the greedy look in her eyes. Natalie's gossiping had gotten worse when she'd hit thirty a few months ago, as if entering a new decade had triggered some internal desire to spread rumors.

Natalie's eyes gleamed brightly. Well, for the record, I can't believe that they actually released her. It's a terrible thing. Practically tragic. The twinkle in her eyes only grew stronger. I knew she was building to something big. That being said, I heard Polly's planning on moving to Los Angeles. She wants to be a movie star.

Natalie waited for her words to sink in. My dad and aunts all looked at each other, our brows crinkled. My dad finally cleared his throat. I don't think Polly's allowed to go that far on her parole.

Besides, said Eleanor, Polly never said anything about wanting to be an actress when she was still living in Sweetland Cove.

Well, Natalie said gruffly, that's just what I heard. I thought you might be interested, considering your history with her.

I groaned, trying not to think about the last time I'd seen Polly. She'd tried to kill me and my old boyfriend, Damon Tellinger. Damon was human and had been so freaked out afterward that he'd broken up with me and left Heavenly Haven for good. I hadn't talked to him in months. Not that it mattered much now that I had Colt but I couldn't help wondering about him sometimes. I hoped he was doing well.

Natalie's eyes strayed to the counters lined with strawberry rose cupcakes and dark chocolate truffle cookies. I just came in for a few snacks for the kids. I could care less about Polly Peacock. She moved toward the counter and picked up a tin of caramel cookies with calming extract and a second tin of party-time pralines. I think I'll just get these.

Lucy says that Polly's moving to the mainland, I told them all. She heard it from her father.

Lucy Lockwood was my best friend and almost as big a gossip as Natalie Vargas. Lucy, however, had a certain degree of tact when discussing rumors that Natalie had never been able to develop.

Natalie laughed. That's ridiculous. Why would she want to move to Florida when she can go to California and see celebrities? With her background, she'll fit right in. Everyone knows that movie stars are all drug addicts and murderers.

The door chimed and I looked over to see Tootsie, Snowball, and Rocky walk in. Snowball was my familiar, an all-white cat I'd found as a kitten. Actually, she'd found me. She was still only a year old but she had grown so much in the time we'd bonded that I sometimes had a hard time believing she had ever been so small.

Tootsie was Trixie's familiar, a fluffy orange cat who had belonged to my mother before her death. Tootsie and I shared a bond as well. Tootsie was very protective of me—almost as protective as Snowball—and was a sort of a secondary familiar, though technically there was no such thing. That technicality had never stopped the connection we shared though.

Rocky was a gray and white wolfhound who had been Eleanor's familiar since she was a child. He was big, silly,