Bewitched, Bothered, and Biscotti: A Magical Bakery Mystery (30 page)

BOOK: Bewitched, Bothered, and Biscotti: A Magical Bakery Mystery
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“No,” he said.

“Did Andersen talk to you about all the Dragohs gathering to keep an eye on each other
during Samhain?”

“Yes…Was that your idea?”

“It was.”

“Figures. But yes, we are convening. I’ll expedite our meeting so we can find Nel
and deal with her.”

That sounded ominous.

“Good luck with that, but I imagine she’s laying low. Trust me—she’s very powerful,
and she can hide her true self. Listen, at her house I found a bunch of brochures
about cemeteries in the area. Would a graveyard be a good place for Nel to perform
the summoning?”

“Of course, that would be ideal for the spell,” he said. “But it’s Halloween. They’ll
be full. They’ll be giving
tours
. She can’t do this spell with other people around. Tell me the names of the cemeteries.”

Mungo jumped out of my tote so I could grab the pamphlets. I read off the places they
advertised: Bonaventure, Colonial Park, Laurel Grove, and several modern “resting
places.” “Wait a minute—she scribbled a note on the back of one of these. Drayton
Hills.”

“That’s it. It’s small, it’s been closed down for years, it’s not open to the public,
and it’s barely maintained if at all. Good work, Katie. We’ll handle it from here.”

“We’ll meet you there,” I said.

“No need. She’s only one woman, and there are four of us.”

“A woman who has likely already killed two of your number. A woman who nearly killed
me. You need all the help you can get. All the power you can get.”

There was a long silence. “All right. We’ll meet you there at nine thirty.”

“What are you planning?”

“To bind her before she can cast the spell. We’ll need a poppet.”

I’d never worked with a poppet, and tended to associate them with voodoo curses despite
the spellbook
club’s explanation that while all voodoo dolls were poppets, not all poppet magic
involved voodoo. I didn’t care, though. The Dragohs could bring out as many poppets
as they wanted if it would stop Nel.

“I know just who to give that task to,” I said, thinking of Cookie. “You bring whatever
else you need for the binding.”

 * * *

Staring into the mirror, I fingered the lace at the neckline of my wedding dress.
What had I been thinking when I’d bought it last year? Fluffy and pure white, with
a fitted bodice, thin straps, and a long, swirly skirt, it wasn’t my style at all.
It was traditional to the nth degree. Of course, Mama had pushed for it. Even though
she didn’t particularly like my choice of groom, she was happy to offer her opinion
about all things wedding related.

Not that the planning got very far.

Traditional had seemed like a good idea to me then. The whole idea of getting married
and moving into a cute starter home, getting a dog, and having kids had seemed like
what normal people did. What people who belonged did. I’d felt like an outsider my
whole life, and I’d thought that getting married would change that.

Now I knew better. And now, thanks to Aunt Lucy and the spellbook club, I knew other
people who were like me. I belonged. The thought made me smile as I drew dark circles
around my eyes. Then I smudged dark makeup on my face and arms to look like grave
dirt and added a scar to my neck. Some gel in my hair to make it stick up funny, and
I was good to go.

But when I emerged from the restroom, Ben took
one look and shook his head. The gesture made the bells on the tips of his bright
red jester hat jingle merrily.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, eyeing his purple leggings and curly-toed shoes.

“The dress. It’s too perfect.”

“I’m not done yet,” I said, heading toward the door that led to the alley behind the
Honeybee. Lucy had given me a small bag of potting soil from her garden, Now, with
a twinge of regret, I rubbed it into the white fabric, staining the lace and leaving
a dark streak along the bodice.

Back inside, Ben jingled his approval. “Better.”

Lucy swirled by, a gypsy vision of layered skirts, smocked blouse, and kerchief. Bangles
piled up on her arms, rings flashed from her fingers, and three-inch hoops hung from
her earlobes. “You look lovely, Katie.”

“I don’t want to look lovely!”

She waved her hand at me. “You know what I mean.”

Ben went next door to check in with Croft Barrow at the bookstore. Moments later,
Bianca came in, dressed in a long white flowing robe. I’d seen her wear it for spell
work—she liked to dress the part—but now it was transformed into a Princess Leia costume
by the wig with the huge buns over her ears. Apparently some things never grow old.

Jaida and Cookie followed behind her. Jaida was a musketeer, complete with feathered
three-corner hat and sexy thigh-high boots. Cookie had gone with Cleopatra: straight
dark wig, glittering makeup, thick eyeliner, and exposed midsection.

“Wow!” I said.

“Thank you,” Cookie said, twirling once.

Jaida grinned at me. “Nice dress. For a dead bride, I mean.”

I curtsied. “Thanks. Now how about helping me set out the food for the living?”

All over the Honeybee, we put out bowls of sticky popcorn balls individually wrapped
in cellophane next to plates of frosted sugar cookies in the shapes of orange jack-o’-lanterns,
autumn leaves, and black cats. I set a platter of salted caramel apples in the display
case, figuring they’d go quickly. We’d baked the ginger pecan cakes in miniature Bundt
pans, then used icing to stick them together at the bottom to form little pumpkins.
Lucy had decorated each with a marzipan stem and leaf, and they looked too pretty
to eat. Somehow, I didn’t think that would stop people. There were bowls of chocolate
eyeballs and brightly colored gummy worms for the kids, and another of chocolate-covered
espresso beans for the adults.

Black paper streamers dripped from the ceiling, and orange crepe paper covered the
bistro tables. On top of each one was a small vase of black carnations that Mimsey
had supplied and a battery-operated candle held upright in a bowl of candy corn. I
wondered how long it would take for the candles to start tipping over as partiers
sampled the decor. Lucy had brought her black cast-iron Dutch oven—which she also
used as a cauldron on occasion—and we filled it with dry ice and set it high on the
display case where little hands couldn’t reach it and adults wouldn’t knock it off.
Wisps of vapor trailed up as the ice began to melt.

Mimsey breezed in the front door. “Hello-o-o-o-o!”
She’d replaced her black ensemble with a multicolored floor-length caftan…and a towering
hat topped with fake fruit. A parrot perched in the middle of it.

“Carmen Miranda?” I asked, peering at the bird to make sure she hadn’t actually brought
Heckle along.

Her head bobbed in confirmation, and I braced for oranges and bananas to go flying.
Everything stayed put, though. “My version, at least,” she said.

Now that the last member of the spellbook club had arrived, I waved them all into
the reading area. First I told them what Declan and I had found at Nel’s house. “I
spoke with Heinrich Dawes on my way back here.”

Everyone moved a little closer.

“He said a cemetery would be the ideal place for her to perform the summoning spell,
but that tonight there would be too many people roaming around. But on the corner
of one of the cemetery brochures Nel had made a notation about a place called Drayton
Hills.”

“I know that place. It’s been closed down for decades, as a cemetery at least. The
city took it over for back taxes, and now they’re stuck with it unless they relocate
the graves,” Mimsey said.

“It’s little known, isolated, and not at all a tourist attraction. Heinrich feels
it would be the ideal place for Nel to summon”—I swallowed—“Zesh tonight. I told him
we’d meet the Dragohs there at nine thirty to stop her.”

Mimsey’s lips pressed into a thin line.

I held up a hand. “If any—or all—of you don’t want to go, that’s fine. I don’t blame
you. But as I told Heinrich, I think the more power we have in place to stop Nel,
the better. And for whatever reason, I’ve been
dragged into this from the beginning. I’m going to see it through.”

Silent, we all exchanged glances. Then Cookie stepped forward. “I’ll go.”

“Me, too,” Jaida said.

Lucy took my hand and squeezed it. “You can count on me.”

Bianca looked at the floor and shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but
I’ll come with you.”

Mimsey threw up her hands. “Fine.”

I smiled. “Thanks. I mean it. Lucy, the little kids will be thinning out by then,
but we advertised that the Honeybee would be open until eleven. I hate the idea of
shutting down in the middle of the party.”

“Don’t you worry. I’ll talk to Ben.”

Chapter 29

We opened the doors again at six, and a few people trickled in for cider and goodies.
Then came the families with very little ones—wee bunnies and princesses, a ladybug
with wildly waving antennae, a frog and a fairy, and a lion growling
Arrrrrrr
at anyone who came near. Wide-eyed, they accepted candy from the jolly jester behind
the register and wandered around the bakery snagging more goodies. Most paused at
the Halloween tree, blinking up at the fairy lights and occasionally sucking a thumb.

“Oh, my Lord. Will you just look at this place?” a familiar voice drawled behind me.
“Y’all have done a wonderful job, Katie!”

I turned to find Margie had arrived. “Glad you could make it! Oh, my, you two are
adorable.” I knelt in front of the JJs. They were dressed as Raggedy Ann and Andy.
Red yarn wigs, a pinafore for Julia, and a sailor suit for Jonathan.

“Thank you,” they said in unison. “Where’s the candy?” Julia asked, and Jonathan pointed.
Off they scampered to see Ben, who greeted them each with a pat on the head.

“Did you make those costumes?” I asked Margie, whose eyes followed them with watchful
affection.

“Oh, sure. I think this is the last year they’ll let me pick their costumes, though.
Boy, they grow up fast.”

“At least you can dictate to this little bumblebee for a few more Halloweens,” I said,
leaning over and making funny faces at Bart in the baby pack on Margie’s back. His
eyes grew large, and he started to cry.

“Oh, Barty,” I said.

“He probably doesn’t recognize you,” Jaida said in passing.

My hands flew to my face. Of course. Poor kid, having a zombie make faces at him.

Margie bounced on the balls of her feet a few times, which distracted him. In seconds
he was back to his usual happy self. She laughed. “You look great. Really. Shame about
that dress, though.”

I looked down and shrugged.

Soon the age of the kids increased, bringing in a baseball player and a commando,
Catwoman and a witch. This was the group who dressed as characters from popular movies.
They also ate a lot more.

About eight thirty, Detectives Taite and Quinn pushed through the door. Margie had
already left, and more costumed adults had joined the crowd. “Monster Mash” boomed
from the stereo, and the atmosphere was thick with the dry-ice fog that had been drifting
out of Lucy’s cauldron all evening.

Lucy hurried to greet the detectives at the door. “Welcome to the Honeybee Halloween
Extravaganza.”

“Ms. Eagel,” Quinn greeted her. “Just thought we’d stop by and see how it’s going.”
He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall by the window.

I carried a plate of cookies over to them. “It’s going well. Detective Taite, this
is my aunt, Lucy Eagel. That’s my uncle Ben over there.”

“Ma’am,” Taite said, inclining his head toward Lucy.

A quick glance at me, then my aunt said, “Pleased to know you. May I pour you some
cider?”

“No, thank you,” Taite said. “We’re just checking in. Thought you might like to know
that Greer Eastmore had a coronary. Just like your boyfriend thought.” He met my eyes
as he spoke, searching my face.

Lucy blinked.

Taite’s expression held more puzzlement than threat. Had he found my number on Greer’s
cell phone?

I glanced around to make sure none of our customers had heard. “Thank you for letting
me know. He seemed a bit young to die that way.”

Taite said, “He was.” His gaze flicked around the room. “Doesn’t Nel Sandstrom work
here?”

“Not anymore.” My words were clipped.

An awkward silence descended. Finally Taite said, “We’ll be on our way, then. Have
a good night.” He turned to go. Quinn, who had been watching his partner with curiosity,
pushed away from the wall and raised his eyebrows at me.

The door flew open and Declan, Scott, Randy, and two other firefighters in full gear
came in, carrying their helmets. Scott and Randy nodded to me as they passed by on
their way to the register. “We’re here, Ben. As promised.”

My uncle laughed. “And in full costume, I see.”

“Hey, we can’t all be as original as
that
.” Randy pointed to Ben’s hat. “But at least we’re here to help hand out candy, whatever.”

Declan met my eyes and smiled, then gave a little nod toward the detectives Lucy and
I were talking to. I shrugged.

Taite’s head tipped to the side as he looked around the room. “You seem to have plenty
of help.”

“Can’t ever have too much,” I said, all bright and smiling.

His eyes narrowed at me. “Detective Quinn, what do you say we try some of that cider
on offer?”

Quinn shrugged, but the curiosity was back on his face. “Fine by me.”

Lucy shot me a look of alarm, and I glanced down at my watch as she poured out hot
cider for the detectives. We had an hour to get to Drayton Hills, and Mimsey had said
it was on the very edge of town, but if we started changing out of our costumes now,
Franklin Taite would know something was up.

 * * *

It was ten minutes after nine when Taite and Quinn finally left. Jaida and Lucy quickly
gathered supplies in the kitchen while I ran into the office to grab my tote. Mungo
put his paws on the arm of the chair, ready to go.

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