by Zoe Arden
"Snowball is worried," the kitten said.
"I'm okay," I told Snowball but wasn't sure that was true. My stomach didn't just feel ill. It hurt. Like it was filled with shards of broken glass. I wondered if maybe it was. I still didn't know all the spells a witch could cast.
I tried to take a step and fell to my knees. "Ohhh," I moaned.
"Snowball will get help!" the fierce little kitten cried. I tried to tell Snowball not to. That it was okay. Then my stomach lurched and the world around me began to spin.
"Okay," I breathed. "Go find Felicity Redfern. She works at..." I tried to think of the name of the bakery.
"Cakes and Creations," Snowball said. "Snowball will return. Snowball will hurry. Snowball will always protect Mama." She licked my face once more before running down the beach faster than I'd ever seen another animal move. I blinked and when I opened my eyes, Snowball was already gone.
* * *
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
.
.
.
* * *
"I'll see you again soon.” …
* * *
.
The Mistmoor hospital wasn't quite as warm and inviting as Sweetland's, but I had to admit it was bigger. I lay in a hospital bed, Snowball curled at my side. Felicity and her boyfriend, Sheriff Lincoln Maxwell, sat nearby. He'd been questioning me for the last hour.
"Okay," Lincoln said. "One more time."
I sighed. "I have no idea how I got here," I told him.
Snowball looked up and nodded, as if to confirm what I said.
"Snowball was walking on the beach, and Ava appeared like magic."
"What do you mean 'like magic?' " Lincoln asked.
"Ava was not there. Then Ava was," Snowball replied.
Lincoln and Felicity exchanged a look. "What?" I asked them. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing," Felicity said, patting my hand. It seemed like they were keeping something from me. I was glad she was here, though. At least there was a friendly face in the room.
There was a knock on the door and a second later Dr. Wallace entered. He was Sweetland's version of Dr. Dunne. In his fifties, with graying hair, he was slightly older than Dr. Dunne. But his eyes were just as kind and his manner was soft.
"Well, good news," he said.
We all looked at him.
"There are no signs of poisoning or lunacy spells."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
"So what happened to her?" Felicity asked, looking concerned.
I was grateful for her help. She had come running back to the beach with Snowball, just when I was afraid my new familiar had gotten lost. She'd wasted no time in calling an ambulance and contacting Lincoln.
"I'm afraid that at this point, I simply don't know."
His face scrunched up and I could tell he was frustrated. As a doctor, it probably bothered him not to have an answer. But I was pretty sure it bothered me even more.
"I've already spoken to Dr. Dunne," Dr. Wallace said, addressing me now. "He knows the situation and will look in on you after your return."
"Thank you, Doctor," I said, rubbing Snowball under her chin.
It was unsettling not to know what had happened to me, but at least I knew I wasn't dying. Yet.
As Dr. Wallace was leaving, I thought of something. "You didn't find love potion cake in my system, did you?"
"Love potion cake?" Dr. Wallace asked, frowning. "No. Why?"
"It seems connected somehow to the recent killings in Sweetland," I told him.
"Love potion cake would never kill someone," Felicity said, speaking up. I'd almost forgotten she worked in a bakery. "And it wouldn't cause someone to black out, except amongst humans. And bakeries tend to sell very few of them."
"When's the last time you sold one?" I asked, curious.
She hesitated. "Maybe three weeks ago."
I don't know what made me ask it, but I suddenly felt something click into place. "To someone in Mistmoor?"
Felicity began to twiddle her thumbs. "Well... no. In Sweetland."
"Sweetland?" I asked, almost jumping out of bed. "To who?"
"Well, um, I don't remember exactly."
"Do you keep records? Could you look it up?" I asked, excited. How could Sheriff Knoxx not have looked into this?
"Perhaps..." Felicity said. She was hedging. Either she was telling the truth and was simply unsettled at the idea of selling her cake to a possible murderer... or she was hiding something. Like the killer's identity.
I thought back to Anastasia Lockwood's warning—trust no one. I realized now how true that was. Even Felicity, who seemed so kind and helpful, had her secrets. I was about to question her further when the door opened.
A tall man in his mid to late twenties, with brown hair cut close to his head and a wide forehead, stepped into the room. He was impeccably dressed and looked like he would have been more at home in a modeling studio instead of a hospital room.
He looked toward me with piercing gray eyes, and I felt heat creep into my cheeks. He made a beeline for my bed.
"Ava Fortune?" he asked. For a minute, I thought he had the wrong person. Then I remembered what my aunts had told me about my real last name. It wasn't Stone, like I'd grown up with. It was Fortune.
"Yes," I said.
"And I'm Sheriff Lincoln Maxwell," Lincoln said, rising to his full height, which was still shorter than the man before him. "Who are you?"
The man whipped a badge from his inner pocket and flashed it to the room.
"Detective Colt Hudson. Magic and Human Affairs."
Lincoln seemed to slink back from him.
"I have a few questions for you, Ms. Fortune. You can answer them here or go back to headquarters with me."
Any trace of charm his good looks might have afforded him was lost by his brusque manners.
"I'll answer them here," I said. "I have nothing to hide."
"I'll be the judge of that," he snapped.
"Look, Detective," Felicity said, "Ava's had a rough day. Perhaps we can—"
"And what's your name?" Colt asked, taking a pad and pen from his pocket now.
Felicity tensed up. "Felicity Redfern," she said.
"And how do you know the accused?"
"Accused?" Felicity and Lincoln said.
"Of what is she accused?" Lincoln demanded.
"Nothing," Colt said. "Except murder. Now, how do you know each other?"
Felicity was visibly shaken, though not as much as me. Compared to Colt Hudson, Sheriff Knoxx was a puppy dog.
"We met at a party," Felicity said.
"And you?" Colt asked, turning to Lincoln.
"The same."
"I see. So you've been fraternizing with the enemy."
Felicity's jaw dropped.
"In what world is a twenty-one-year-old witch the 'enemy?' " Felicity demanded.
"In my world," Detective Hudson said. "And any other world that involves a murderer with serial killer tendencies."
"Serial killer!" I blurted. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The idea that I was a serial killer was more funny than frightening.
"Where were you the day David Buyers was killed?" Detective Hudson asked me.
"At my aunts' bakery in Sweetland Cove," I told him.
"Yes. I just came from there," the detective said. "Your aunts told me the same thing. Are you sure you weren't having one of your 'blackouts?' " He made finger quotes in the air.
"Now just you wait," Dr. Wallace said, stepping forward. He'd gotten so quiet we'd forgotten he was in the room. "You have no right to come in here and harass my patients."
"That's another curious thing," Detective Hudson said. "Why are you treating a woman from Sweetland Cove? I thought Sweetland and Mistmoor Point hated each other?"
Dr. Wallace bristled. "I'm a doctor. I'm also human. I don't care about age-old grudges or anything else. I treat whoever needs treating."
"I see," Detective Hudson
said, marking something in his notebook. "Human. Interesting."
"Ava's blackout was real," Dr. Wallace insisted. "She has done nothing wrong here. And I must ask you to leave at once."
Detective Hudson squared his shoulders. "I'm an official detective of the Council on Magic and Human Affairs. You don't get to tell me what to do."
Doctor Wallace squared his shoulders as well. He was bigger than Detective Hudson, though the detective was at least twenty years younger.
"And I am head doctor at Mistmoor Hospital. When it comes to the welfare of my patients, I have all the authority I need to throw you out of here. Even the Council on Magic and Human Affairs acknowledges the right of doctors to do what is best for their patients, including protecting them from interrogation."
Detective Hudson grimaced but put his pad and pen back in his pocket. I silently cheered Dr. Wallace, who was my new hero.
"I'll see you again soon," Detective Hudson said and slunk away. He paused at the door and looked back at me. "Real soon."
* * *
CHAPTER
TWENTY
.
.
.
* * *
"You don't remember, do you?"
* * *
.
My aunts fawned over me the next two days. Eleanor, especially, was terrified to let me out of her sight. Sheriff Knoxx had had the chocolate cake tested for poisons and hexes, but nothing showed up. It was either clean, or it was a new spell or poison that no one had heard of before. Which was a terrifying thought.
I had yet to hear back from Detective Hudson and could only hope that he had gone back to wherever he came from.
Snowball seemed to be getting along well with Tootsie and Rocky, who were showing the tiny kitten around the house. The next morning, we all set off for the bakery. We opened at nine as usual, and by noon, we hadn't had one customer. Eleanor and Trixie began to talk about closing up for the day.
"You can't do that!" I said.
"Ava, honey, it will all smooth over eventually. But after Campbell's death and now your..." Eleanor choked on the words, "... sudden disappearance, I'm afraid people are a little too unsettled to buy anything from us."
"Except for Sheriff Knoxx," Trixie commented. "Maybe it's the goblin in him, but his sweet tooth is stronger than any man I've ever met. Even all these murders won't keep him away from Eleanor's peanut butter dream bars."
I rubbed my temples. "This is all my fault."
"Ava, there's nothing you can do."
"When's the last time you sold a love potion cake?" I asked suddenly, remembering what Felicity had told me at the hospital. Three weeks seemed like a long time to go without selling one, perhaps my aunts had sold a cake more recently.
"Here?" Trixie laughed. "Months ago. People so rarely want them these days we only make them by special order. I think the other bakeries in town are all the same."
"I'm surprised they're not more popular."
"The thing is, love potion cakes have a reputation for being... tricky," Eleanor said. "They can backfire easily if not prepared correctly or if the person you give them to eats too much. Humans, especially, are susceptible to the powers of it."
"That's probably why Damon Tellinger reacted to it so strongly," Trixie said.
"There's got to be some connection," I muttered."
"Ava, let the sheriff handle this," Eleanor said. "He may be part goblin, but he's not such a bad man. He's strong and very knowledgeable when it comes to crime and criminals. Let him handle this."
But I already had my purse and was making my way toward the door. I paused just long enough to pick up a box of assorted pastries, then walked outside.
Snowball ran after me. "No, Snowy, you stay here."
"Snowball wants to help," she said softly.
"You are helping. I need you to stay here and keep an eye on my aunts for me." An idea occurred to me then. "Actually, you could do something. Do you know what boxie quill is?"
"Dangerous plant. Purple."
"That's right. I want you to search the bakery for it. Let me know what you find. Can you do that for me?"
Snowball nodded and purred loudly. "Snowball will help Mama."
Snowy ran back into the store and out of my sight. If she could really find the hidden stash of boxie quills my aunts had, and tell me how much there was or what they were using it for, it might shed some light on a few things.
Now that that was settled, I decided my first stop should be Coffee Cove.
Lucy was standing behind the counter when I came in.
"Hello," she said a little coldly. "Welcome to Coffee Cove. What may I do for you today?"
I took a deep breath. "Accept my apology."
Lucy looked at me unblinking. "Apology, huh? What makes you think I'd accept one from you? After you gave my wand to the sheriff?"
"Because," I said. "You're the only friend I've got here, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Including this."
I held up a box of pastries from the shop. Lucy's eyes lit up. "Are those caramel scones?"
"Caramel forgiveness scones," I corrected.
"There is no such thing as forgiveness extract," Lucy said, her lips beginning to curve into a smile.
"Yes, but I figured when scones are involved, who needs extract? What's wrong with a good old-fashioned bribe?"
Lucy's smile broke and she let out a giggle. She hopped over the counter and threw her arms around me.
"I guess my bribed worked, then," I said.
Lucy grabbed the box from me. "Apology accepted."
"Good, because I've been dying to know what Sheriff Knoxx asked you when he returned your wand. He did return it, right?"
"Yeah. He didn't say much, really. Started in on some big speech about being more careful with my things, but I just told him he oughta be more careful with his own things. Because I'd heard he misplaced his police car a few weeks back."
"He did?" I laughed.
Lucy shrugged. "I don't know. I made it up. But there must've been some truth to it because he backed off."
Megan came out of the back just then, Brendan trailing after her. "What's that?" Megan asked.
"Forgiveness scones," Lucy chuckled.
"And assorted pastries," I added.
Megan grabbed the box from her sister and took out a bear claw. "Mmmm," she said. "Who made them?"
"I did," I told her.
Megan looked like she wanted to vomit. She spit out the bite she'd taken.
"For witch's sake, Megan!" Lucy scolded. "You know perfectly well Ava's not killing people with her pastries." She grabbed the bear claw and took a bite to demonstrate. When she handed it back, Megan finished it, but she still eyed me suspiciously.
"Thanks," I whispered.
Brendan was still behind the counter, looking like he wished he was anywhere else.
"Hey, Brendan," I said, trying to be friendly.
"More questions?" he snapped. "I'll just tell you now. No. I don't have any boxie quill. Because I'm not a dark wizard."
I hadn't realized how much I'd upset him with my questions the other day. And he was still mad. Apparently, Brendan was good at holding grudges.
"Come on," Lucy said, ignoring him. "My shift is over in like five minutes. Let's get out of here." She grabbed a scone and clocked out, leaving Brendan and Megan staring angrily after me.
"What's up with those two?" I asked. "I know Megan's your sister, but I mean... why does she hate me so much all of a sudden?"
"She doesn't."
I shot Lucy a skeptical look.
"Okay, she's just jealous because Damon likes you."
My ears perked up.
"Likes me?"
"Yeah, we all saw the way he was hugging you the other day. That's what I wanted to talk to you about the other day, actually." She smiled slyly at me. "I wondered what was up with you guys."
I shrugged. "Nothing. I mean, I haven't even seen Damon since that day in Coffee Cov
e." My father's words echoed back at me. He's bad. You can't trust him. I brushed the memory away. My father had been acting like a lunatic.
"I didn't mean to get in Megan's way," I told Lucy, feeling guilty. I knew she liked Damon. It was obvious.
"You didn't. Damon's never shown any interest in her. He's twenty-seven. She's eighteen. He told her once that she was too young for him, but she doesn't care."
Too young? I was only twenty-one. Would Damon think that was too young as well?
"She's hoping he'll ask her to the Snow Queen Dance. But she's dreaming."
"What's the Snow Queen Dance?" I asked.
"A huge event they hold every December. It's kind of a big deal. Everybody goes... witches, humans. Though it's the couples who have the most fun. Maybe I'll get to be part of a couple one day."
"I'm sure you will," I said.
Lucy sighed. "We'll see." She took a second to snap out of her trance. "So what are we doing today?"
I started checking things off on my fingers. "Looking for my wand. Figuring out why I blacked out, who my admirer is, and who Felicity sold her love potion cake to."
"That's a pretty long list," Lucy said. "And I have the feeling there are a few things you need to catch me up on. How about we start with the wand and go from there."
As we walked to the beach, I filled Lucy in on my blackout—which she already knew about. The whole town seemed to know about it. What Lucy didn't know was that Felicity had been selling love potion cakes to customers in Sweetland Cove.
"Do you think we should tell Sheriff Knoxx?" she asked me as we neared the spot where I'd lost my wand. The sand blazed hot and golden under our bare feet. It was nice to walk along the shore. A barefoot man in his late forties walked past us pushing a cart.
"No way," I told her. "He already thinks I'm behind everything. He's not gonna listen to anything I tell him. So what's the point? It's better if I figure it out myself."
