by Cindy Stark
Guilt slipped over his features, and he sighed. “Because my aunt sounded so disappointed when I talked to her this morning, so I told her you were still coming.”
Hazel paused for a moment to let his words fully sink in. Panic followed shortly afterward. “I can’t go up there by myself. She’ll...I’ll...something will happen, and I’ll give myself away.”
Peter shook his head sincerely. “She’s not going to have a problem with you being a witch. I’ve told you that. She’s just a nice, older lady who wants to get to know you better.”
Hazel wished she could move beyond her fears, but they’d been ingrained in her for too long. “You don’t know that for sure, and I’m not going to risk it.”
He set his laptop aside and held out a hand. She didn’t want to walk to him because she knew his touch would infuse her with love and he’d get his way, but she couldn’t help herself.
Peter pulled her into a sitting position along the edge of the bed, and he touched the tip of his finger to her nose. “You should let me tell her already, so we can put this nonsense behind us and get on with life. She’s going to accept you regardless of your heritage because she loves me, and I love you.”
She snorted. “Your mom didn’t exactly feel that way.”
Peter rolled his eyes in disgust. “My mom is a special kind of person who creates her own hell. Which is why I will never ask you to spend time at her house. Madeline is a whole different story. I know you can sense that about her.”
Hazel hated it when he used her magic against her. But he was right. She did feel that Madeline was a kind and good soul who wanted to know her better.
She twisted her fingers together. “I do, but what if something happens? What if I screw up? I don’t want to risk my relationship with her because she’s important to you.”
A different tactic came into Hazel’s mind. “You don’t want to go because you’re afraid to see her.”
The unhappy expression on his face told her she’d hit the mark. He released a weighted sigh. “I can’t see her yet, Hazel. She has an uncanny way of detecting when I’m hiding something. If I look at her, she’ll know something’s wrong, and then she’ll pester me until I tell her.”
His words tugged on Hazel’s heart, and she knew he told the truth.
He scrubbed his jaw. “I can’t very well tell her I’m harboring evidence that I think might put her in jail. That would go wrong in so many ways.”
Instead of continuing to press for advantage, she grumbled. “Fine. But you’re the one who’ll pay the biggest price if she ends up hating me.”
He placed large palms on both sides of her face and pulled her toward him. He pressed a firm kiss on her cheeks and then a warmer one on her lips. “I’m not worried about that in the slightest. Please tell her I’m sorry that I couldn’t come.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. I owe you big time for this.”
Mischievous thoughts blossomed inside her. “Big time, huh? Does that mean you’ll crush herbs and flowers for all my new blends of tea?”
He shook his head, but a grin tickled the sides of his mouth. “Oh, man. I guess I can’t say no, can I?”
Her grin trumped his, and she stood. “Nope, and we’ll be doing it for hours and hours now that my online business is growing.”
“You should hire another employee to handle your website orders.”
She laughed. “I will eventually, but until then, you’re mine.”
A few minutes later, Hazel left her darned husband to his work and set off for the big house. The old home loomed large ahead of her, and she actually wished she’d brought Mr. Kitty along with her this time. At least she’d have back up.
No worries. She could do this, she reminded herself. She’d stay the polite amount of time and then make her excuses. Maybe she could say she’d promised to help Peter. Madeline couldn’t argue that, and Hazel could once again find sanctuary with her husband.
Madeline met her at the back door with a warm smile that helped to ease her anxiety. “Good morning, Hazel.”
Hazel stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The scent of something burnt greeted her, but she didn’t say anything. Likely Tracy had spilled something on the stove or in the oven. “Good morning, Madeline. Thanks for the invite to breakfast.”
The older woman turned and headed down the hall, but instead of turning into the dining room, she continued into the kitchen. “I thought about having sympathy for that nephew of mine who works far too hard, and I was going to send breakfast back with you. But I have a little problem.”
Stronger scents of something charred assaulted her, and Madeline pointed to a casserole dish filled with black and brown mounds. “I was supposed to cook the breakfast casserole at 325 for an hour, but I was distracted when I turned on the oven and set it to 425. Now, I’ve ruined everything.”
Hazel peeked past Madeline’s shoulder for a closer look. It didn’t appear there would be any way to save the casserole. Not even with her magic. “Happens to the best of us.”
Hazel held up the small canisters she’d brought. “I have tea. Maybe Tracy could whip up some muffins or something to go with it. Or even toast. I’m not picky.”
Madeline placed the back of her hand against her forehead in a dramatic gesture. “Once again, Tracy has left me to my own devices to go see her grandchildren. She tried to make things easy on me by preparing the casserole ahead of time, but some people have no knack for creating a meal.”
Hazel grimaced, not sure how to respond. “I could probably make something if Tracy won’t mind me in her kitchen.”
Madeline sent her a horrified look. “I can’t very well invite you to breakfast and then force you to cook. There’s naught to do but go out. Alberto’s has a fantastic breakfast selection that you should try anyway, and it’s early enough in the season that it will mostly be locals there. Are you game?”
Hazel’s plans for a quick meal dashed from the room. She could hardly say no to Peter’s aunt.
Besides, heading back to Alberto’s to look for more clues was something she’d wanted to do since they’d left the previous night. It would be interesting to see how he reacted directly to Madeline. “Alberto’s sounds delightful.”
Madeline’s face brightened. “Wonderful. Let me get my jacket. It’s a little chilly out this morning.”
Ten minutes later, a young Chinese waiter named Fang led them to a small table in the corner close to where Spencer Evans had sat the previous night. Wouldn’t you know it, he was there again. Hazel might have thought he’d slept there, but he’d switched his blue sweater for a gray one.
Instead of sitting where their waiter placed their menus, Madeline headed directly for Spencer.
Hazel hesitated to follow. The idea of approaching a grieving man she didn’t know left her uncomfortable.
Madeline bent to hug the thin, sixty-something man with a balding head, and then she lifted slightly as she spoke to him.
For a few moments, Hazel struggled to hear what Madeline said, until frustration outranked being uncomfortable. She’d have to endure the awkwardness if she wanted to learn more about the case. She pasted on a friendly, yet compassionate expression and headed for Madeline and Spencer.
Spencer looked up when she approached, and Madeline glanced over her shoulder to see what had drawn his attention. She smiled warmly at Hazel and held out a hand. Hazel had no choice but to take it.
The second she did, warm energy similar to Peter’s, except without the sizzle, infused her.
“Spencer,” Madeline said. “I’d like to introduce you to my niece-in-law, Hazel. She married Peter. You remember him, right? He spent all those summers here with me when he was younger.”
Spencer blinked watery eyes and nodded. “I remember. He was a good kid.”
“Still is,” Madeline said.
He focused on Hazel. “Nice to meet you.”
A ping of sadness penetrated her heart. “Very nice to meet you
, too, Spencer. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Tears filled the corners of his eyes, and his shoulders sank. “Thank you. It’s been difficult.”
Madeline placed a hand on his back and patted it. “Oh, I’m sure it has, Spencer. We’re all here for you.”
Peter’s aunt glanced briefly at Hazel and then flicked back to Spencer. “Would you mind, Spencer dear, if we joined you? There are a few things I’d like to say.”
He wiped his eyes with a wrinkled white handkerchief and then opened a hand to indicate they were welcome.
Silently, Hazel cursed Peter for bailing on them this morning. Breakfast would have been so much easier if he’d come along.
The young waiter brought coffee cups. A moment later, he was back with a steaming pot of coffee that smelled like it had been delivered straight from heaven, and he topped off Spencer’s coffee. Hazel nodded eagerly when the waiter asked if she wanted some. “I hope it tastes as amazing as it smells.”
“Sure does,” Fang responded. “Best coffee in the village. On most days, anyways.”
Hazel had dumped two teaspoonfuls of sugar before she realized the irony of what he’d said. Obviously, the day Olive had died, the coffee hadn’t been so good. She looked up at her tablemates and breathed a sigh of relief that neither of them had noticed the faux pas.
Then she glanced at her coffee and weighed the likelihood that it might have been poisoned, too. She was sure Chief Burton and his officers had investigated the restaurant thoroughly, and if it hadn’t been a targeted poisoning, but, say, an accident, more people would be dead. It was probably okay to drink.
She shifted her gaze to the others.
Madeline used only one container of creamer and stirred. She lifted her cup and sniffed but didn’t drink. “How are you holding up, Spencer? Is there anything I can do for you?”
He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the stack of barely touched pancakes. The butter and syrup had long since soaked in. “I’m hanging in there, best I can.”
He took a drink of coffee and set down his cup. Hazel waited for a reaction.
Peter’s aunt reached across the table and place an age-spotted hand over his. “You call me whenever you need anything, okay?”
He nodded.
“Spencer,” she said again but didn’t continue.
Several moments passed before she resumed speaking, and when she did, emotion clung to her voice. “Spencer, I hope you know that I had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with Olive’s death. I know she and I didn’t always get along, but I didn’t hate her.”
He sniffed. “I know, Madeline. I think she felt the same about you. Might have even liked to spar with you sometimes, you know?”
Madeline gave him a small smile and nodded. “I know.”
The waiter returned, but Hazel’s appetite had faded with all the sadness hovering in the air. They’d left their menus on the original table, but she wasn’t particularly hungry now anyway. “Do you maybe have a muffin?”
Fang gave her a curt nod. “Blueberry, bran, or cranberry orange.”
His suggestions actually tempted her taste buds. “Cranberry orange would be lovely.”
“Make that two,” Madeline added.
A few moments later, after Spencer didn’t show signs of poisoning, Hazel picked at her muffin while Madeline ignored hers and remained focused on Spencer. “Do you have any family coming to the village for the service?”
He nodded, which surprised Hazel after what Peter had said about him no longer being close to his family.
“My brother Rod.”
Madeline gave him an encouraging smile. “That’s nice. Rod. I don’t believe I’ve met him, have I?”
Spencer shook his head. “Nah, he never likes to leave his business for too long, so I always go visit him, instead.”
Hazel could only guess that was because of Olive. She mentally rolled her eyes. Not wanting to leave his business sounded like a fantastic excuse to not have to see the cantankerous woman.
Out of the blue, Spencer dropped his face into his hands, and his shoulders shook as he outright sobbed.
Hazel straightened and blinked in surprise.
Madeline widened her eyes in alarm, flicked a quick look at Hazel as though unsure what to do, and then she scooted her chair close to his. She wrapped one arm around his shoulder and patted his forearm with the other. “There, there, Spencer. I know it hurts. Letting it out is the best thing you can do. It festers otherwise. Trust me, I know.”
He nodded and held out a hand without lifting his gaze. Hazel instinctively pulled napkins from the dispenser and shoved them into his outstretched fingers. He crushed them against his face and scrubbed.
Hazel grimaced because she knew napkins were not nearly as soft as a tissue.
“It was her birthday, you know,” Spencer said through his tears.
“I know,” Madeline said softly.
At least she had the good sense to not bring up the birthday coffee, Hazel thought.
He inhaled an emotional breath. “I was going to ask her to marry me again. This would have been the twenty-fifth time.”
He lifted a tear-stained red face to Madeline. “She’d said some things that made me think she was finally ready to say yes.”
Madeline nodded in agreement. “I’m sure of it, Spencer. I know she loved you very much. She was always talking about all the things you did together, and how much you meant to her.”
Peter’s aunt met Hazel’s gaze over the top of Spencer’s head. She gave a little shrug of uncertainty, and Hazel responded in kind.
Without warning, he slid his chair back and stood. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess. I knew I should have stayed home.”
Madeline stood, too, so Hazel did the same. “It’s better if you don’t hole up at home, Spencer,” the older woman said.
He shook his head in disagreement. “Not today. Maybe another day.”
Hazel watched in surprise as the man hurried toward the door and then disappeared outside.
Eleven
Hazel and Madeline both stared in the direction Spencer had gone for a few moments, and then Madeline sighed. “It’s hard to believe people actually thought I wanted to steal Spencer from Olive.”
She couldn’t picture him and Madeline together, either.
“So, no affection there whatsoever?”
Luckily, his aunt didn’t seem insulted that she’d questioned her further. “No. Never. Tracy might have had a crush on him when she first moved to Sandpiper Bay years ago. He’s not a bad-looking man, after all. But once you spend an hour in his presence, the looks fade, and the personality takes over.”
Hazel immediately thought of her old boyfriend. Victor was a beautiful man. Unfortunately, she’d spent more than an hour in his presence before she’d realized he was a jerk.
Madeline returned to her seat and lifted her coffee mug. “I do feel for the poor man, but he’s always one to be a bit dramatic. Honestly, by the time a year rolls around, he’ll realize the universe did him a favor. Perhaps now, he’ll be able to find the woman he deserves.”
Hazel took her seat again. Madeline’s lack of empathy for Spencer bothered Hazel, and she couldn’t help but say so. “He just lost the love of his life. Maybe he has a right to be dramatic?”
Peter’s aunt waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, trust me. I understand the grieving process well, and as I said, I do feel for what he’s going through. But you would understand if you knew him better. Two weeks ago, he flew off the handle, complaining that his employees were stealing from him. Totally lost it in front of everyone. Acting out is a regular occurrence with him. He’s so sure the world is out to get him.”
Madeline took a sip of coffee and then winked at Hazel. “There’s a reason no woman has ever said yes to marrying him.”
Her gesture softened the mood. Still, Hazel felt sorry for the broken-hearted man. More than once, she’d witnessed life be unfairly cruel to a person. Like with her long-ago grandmother C
larabelle who’d been persecuted for being a witch. Life’s cruelties had a way of changing people into someone they might not have been, otherwise.
Since Madeline didn’t appear to be concerned about drinking her coffee any longer, Hazel signaled to Fang to top off hers as well. She added another teaspoon of sugar for good measure and stirred.
She caught two-middle-aged women across the bistro staring at Madeline for the umpteenth time and focused her gaze on them until they were embarrassed enough to look away. Tracy had said that Madeline didn’t need to be worried about her reputation, but obviously, people wondered.
Since it didn’t appear that Madeline and she were leaving soon, and since Peter wasn’t around to interfere, Hazel decided to take the opportunity to dig a little deeper into what Madeline knew about the murder.
Hazel pulled another piece off her orange-cranberry muffin and tried to act as nonchalant as possible. “The food here is delicious. Peter and I came to Alberto’s for dinner last night.”
A tinge of sadness flickered over Madeline’s face. “It’s one of my favorite places in Sandpiper Bay.”
“I hope that we didn’t cause too much trouble by canceling with you and Tracy last night.”
“No, of course not. I understand that you both need some alone time on your honeymoon, but I was sad that I didn’t get to see you.”
For the first time, Hazel caught a hint of Madeline’s loneliness. It was likely especially difficult for her when Tracy was off with her family. “I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t feel it was personal. Peter’s been working so hard lately. I think he wanted a breather from life, altogether.”
That much was true.
Madeline met her gaze. “He is such a hard worker. Always has been. I think he spent most of his youth trying to do whatever he thought would please his parents. It’s good to see that he’s finally realized that dedication to them was pointless.”
Hazel understood perfectly well how difficult a mother could be. “I know their attitudes still hurts him, but he seems to have accepted that they won’t change. And I know how much he loves you and the wonderful childhood summers you gave him.”
