All she could hear were the echoing sounds of her snow boots beating against the snow, and the rumbling thunder of her own ragged breath. The closer she got, the more desperate she felt to get back inside the museum, warm and safe behind the lockable doors, away from the slippery snowbanks and icy steps, and most importantly away from the cold‑blooded killer.
She ran and ran and didn’t stop until she was almost back to the historical society.
Then it came to her in a flash. She still had her cell phone on her! She pulled it out of her pocket, flipped it open, and brought up the contact list. Clutching the small black plastic device in both her hands, she frantically scrolled through the menu as her heart pounded in her chest. She needed to call Cody.
“Drop it,” he said. “Now!” He motioned toward the trees with his gun. “And keep your hands up where I can see them. No more tricks.”
He lifted the gun’s muzzle to point it at her forehead. Eve’s eyes widened as she backed away quickly. They were both out of breath, but she did her best to speak. “If you shoot me, it will ruin your plan. The cops will know it’s your gun!”
“Actually, it’s not mine,” Wallace said as he wheezed and walked out of the trees, following her.
“Hey! How did you get that?” Eve said recognizing the pistol.
“You like it. I palmed it during the pie contest. People aren’t very observant when an old woman hits the ground.”
Eve harrumphed. “No wonder it wasn’t in my purse. Still, you’ll never get away with it.”
“I disagree.” He coughed. Boy, he was really winded. “They have no reason to suspect me. I already planted the evidence. And everyone in town knows you’ve been on the case all week. When they find the doll downstairs, they’ll put two and two together, and figure you accused Mick of the murders, and he killed you, and then himself.” He shrugged. “It happens all the time!”
As he said the last word, Eve heard a whirring sound, then another, and suddenly Wallace was on the ground, clutching his shoulder. The gun had slid out of his grasp. Eve dashed forward and kicked it away from the writhing man. She kicked his leg too for good measure and was about to run back inside to check on Mick when every scary movie that she’d ever seen flashed before her eyes. Oh, no, you don’t. If she left now, he’d disappear and get away. Well, she’d fix him. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the only thing she had on her.
Then she proceeded to hog-tie him with her garters.
After she felt he was good and secure, she ran back inside to check on Mick who was on the floor rubbing the contusion on his forehead. “What happened out there?” Mick called out behind her as she heard sirens in the distance.
“I don’t know. Somebody shot him but I didn’t see who.”
She heard the door open behind her and looked. It was Juniper, carrying a flashlight.
“What are you doing here?”
“I got worried after you left so I decided to come check up on you. When I pulled up, I saw Wallace chasing you up the hillside, so I made a few phone calls. Are you all right?” Juniper asked, looking frantic.
“Yeah. He tried to kill me! He’s the one who killed Bianca Hyena!”
Eve yelped in surprise as three figures appeared outside the doors in front of the museum.
Bella, Lena and Lawrence. Ren smiled at her as he pulled open the door. Eve ran over and hugged him, unsure if she could ever let go. She glanced at the ground. Wallace was still laying there, still tied up, and Mabe was standing over him with a shovel in her hand.
“Just in case the garters won’t hold,” she said with a wink.
“But how…who… which one of you shot him? That looked like a professional sniper shot. Cody?”
“Naw.” Mabe laughed. “Cody would have arrested him. We called in the big dog.”
“Who?”
“Who else do you know who drives a snowmobile and owns a sniper rifle?”
Eve felt her brows furrow.
Bubba.
“Where is he? Don’t tell me he’s not even planning to say good bye.”
Ren smiled and nodded his head toward the cliff, “We thought it’d be best if he made a fast exit. The BLPD is on their way.”
Eve felt her lip tremble. She’d finally had her brother back and he was already gone.
Ren pulled her back in for a hug and she felt him tuck something into her pocket, “I’m sorry, darlin’. He told me to give you this.”
The envelope was addressed to: Eveageddon.
THIRTY-TWO
T wo days later, Eve cradled a mug of Spanish Coffee between her hands. Rebel and Juniper sat with her at the Festival’s Ice Bar, sharing a plate of fries and enjoying the fresh air.
“This is nice,” Juniper said, tilting her face back to catch the sun’s rays. The area around them was filled with chattering guests, and Eve could hear Danior’s band playing from the stage nearby. “I’m glad things are running smoothly once again.”
“Me too,” Eve said, scooping a fingerful of sugar off the rim of her glass.
“Me three.” Rebel agreed, taking a bite of the fries. “Oh, hey. The luge race is up next. We should go grab a closer spot to watch. That track looks dangerous.”
“Right?!” Juniper agreed. “I can’t believe we got the insurance to do it. I hope the paramedics are on standby.”
“I really can’t believe there are actually people stupid enough to race down it.” Rebel retorted.
From where they sat, Eve could see couples skating, and children playing and beyond that was the racing area where the luge race would take place. “I don’t know, it looks kind of fun to me.” Eve said with a shrug.
Rebel furrowed her brow. “Please, Banter, you’d break a hip just looking at it.” She paused in thought. “It’s too bad Clara can’t be here to watch. I’m sure she’d have some amusing commentary.”
“I’m sure she would, but I think she’s happy babysitting the little tyke for Pike and Finn.” Juniper replied. “
I can’t believe she’s moving in with them. I think I’m actually going to miss her.” Rebel said, shoving a fry into her mouth.
“You think?” Juniper said with a laugh. “Of course, you’ll miss her. She’s a sweet old lady.”
“Says you.” Eve grunted. “She’s more slippery than a pocketful of pudding. As a matter of fact, the sweetest part of that old lady is her tooth.”
Rebel took a sip of her coffee and nodded her head. “It’s true. She’s as crafty as she is kind. She kept beating me at crib. I think she cheated.”
“Oh, hells bells, yes.” Eve nodded. “If she swallowed a nail, she’d spit out a corkscrew. She’s been kicked outta cards more times than me.”
They all laughed at the disjointed image of Clara cheating more at cards than Eve.
They’d dropped Clara off at the Old Mill earlier in the day. The elderly woman had taken to her great-grand niece like peanut butter to pecan pie. A change in scenery was just the thing she needed. Pike had been overjoyed at the idea of help and, since she didn’t have much family left, this suited her fine.
“Well, at least things can start getting back to normal,” Eve said, and she looked over at her friend.
“So... have you heard anything else from the police?” Juniper asked curiously, dipping another fry in ketchup.
“They called yesterday. They want to talk to me again early next week.”
“Again?” Rebel questioned Eve.
“Yup. Just to verify things, they said. Go over it once more. But I think they’ve got most of the story down.”
“Are you still in hot water with them?” Juniper asked.
Eve smiled. “Of course. I’m always in hot water. But they’re getting used to me. I think Cody and I are coming to an understanding.”
Rebel tugged her scarf a little closer to her neck, “Yeah, the sooner he realizes you run this town, the better.”
“Exactly.” Eve smirked.
“Are they going to return the doll
?” Juniper asked.
“They said they will – at some point. I don’t know when, though. It might not be until after the trial.”
“And did they ever find what was inside?” Rebel asked.
Eve shook her head. “That’s the most frustrating part. Ted’s notes referred to an actual lab test sample. Bianca had deduced that he hid the sample in the doll but when they searched it, they didn’t find anything. So, if there ever was a hidden sample then it has mysteriously disappeared. You know, I asked Clara about it,” Rebel said, “and she said she couldn’t remember – but she said it was possible she might have thrown it away.”
Juniper stopped eating. “Does that mean Wallace will go free?”
“Absolutely not.” Eve patted her hand, “They subpoenaed his files and computer and they have the email chain confirming Wallace knew about the contaminated product and said to ship it anyway. Not to mention they can track down the hospital records of the deceased and their lab results.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Juniper said. “I’m glad he’s going to pay for what he did.”
“Me too,” Eve agreed. “And here’s the best part: one day soon, everyone in town will get to taste Cocoa’s pecan pie recipe. Clara gave it to Pike, and they’ve decided to put it on the menu.”
“So, life goes on in Bohemian Lake, doesn’t it?” Juniper said philosophically.
“It does.”
“Speaking of life going on, how’s Ren?” Rebel asked.
Eve made a face and shook her head. “It’s hard for him to believe Wallace murdered someone. And threatened me. He feels responsible. And, I think, somewhat embarrassed. The good news is he keeps trying to make it up to me and I am quite enjoying it.”
“Hmm,” Juniper said with a lascivious grin, “that sounds like fun.”
Eve waggled an eyebrow at her. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it?”
They were silent again for a few moments. After a while Juniper asked, “Heard any news about Bubba?”
Eve shook her head as she gazed out at the frozen lake. “Not a word.”
“Think you’ll see him again soon?”
“One never knows with my brother but, I know he’ll always be there if I need him and I guess that’s all that matters.”
Rebel turned to look at her. “Very true. Hey, speaking of missing persons, have you heard anything from Penny?”
“Ren got a call this morning. She’s on her way home.”
“Oh, good. I’m sure the Mabels will feel better knowing you’re back behind the desk. Safer that way.”
“Oh, yes, you know me. I’m all about safety.”
Suddenly number sixty-four was announced over the loud speaker. “Gotta go!” Eve said as she jumped up and whipped off Clara’s long mink coat revealing a neon yellow and green racing suit.
“What the hell are you wearing, Eve!” Juniper shouted after her.
“And where are you going?” Rebel chimed in.
“It’s my turn,” Eve called back.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, don’t tell me…” Rebel shouted after her.
But Eve wasn’t listening. She didn’t need anyone telling her what to do. And with that, she ran for her sled, excited to feel the adrenaline in her veins and the wind in her hair.
Thanks for reading Nuttier Than Pecan Pie. Keep reading for a sneak peek at Tea Leafs & Wicked Witchery to see who’s hanging around Caravan Manor now. Releasing in March.
Tea Leafs & Wicked Witchery
Bohemian Murder Manor Mysteries
Bohemian Lake Series 10
Like the rest of the women in her family, Caravan Manor Resort’s manager and event coordinator, Mallory Vianu is gifted with extraordinary paranormal powers. A late bloomer thanks to her Nana’s binding spell, Mal is only now beginning to come into her own as a medium and a finder.
Finding herself overwhelmed with intense visions every time she touches an object, she decides to host the region’s Hexfest: A Weekend of Witchery to see if some of the world’s leading paranormal experts can teach her a thing or two.
Unfortunately, before she gets the chance to seek Madam Sylvia Broome’s help, her body is found hanged from a Willow Tree. Mallory receives a vision through the High Priestess's Ouija board and now it's up to her and detective-budding boyfriend-Kaden Bones to stop the killer among the guests who's as dangerous as the torrential rains rolling through Bohemian Lake.
ONE
M allory Vianu’s gaze wandered over her friend’s shoulder to the crystals on the shelf. Peace and Light was filled with an eclectic mix of items, everything from astral charts, and tarot cards to herbs and harps—not to mention the gorgeous jewelry and handknit scarves.
“Close your eyes, Mal and please for the love of the goddess, stop squeezing my hands so tight. I’m going to need them back when we’re done. These shelves won’t restock themselves… unless you know a spell, that is.”
Mallory chuckled, but did as her friend, white witch-Star St. James said. The woman was a breath of fresh air in Bohemian Lake. A native Californian who’d moved here only eight months ago. They were seated at an old table in the corner of Star’s new age shop. Mallory and Nana read cards here on a weekly basis for Star’s customers. In the candlelight, the table glowed, making shadows and creating depth on the walls.
Star pushed her trademark platinum fishtail braid back over her shoulder and took a deep breath. “Let us begin. Spirits of the air–hear our voices.” Star began. “We seek Marco. His daughter, Mallory is looking to convene. Hear us, spirits. We ask your blessing and to speak to Marco.”
Contacting the spirits—specifically attempting to contact Mallory’s mother Jilli was what had brought Star and Mallory together in the first place. Although, it had never worked, which Mallory now knew was because Jilli had never really been dead—only trapped in a magical mirror. After that, they had become friends and Mallory and Nana had begun reading fortunes and tea leaves in Star’s shop for her customers. Nana’s reputation was world renowned.
They’d never tried before to contact Mallory’s father, but there was something in the air this week—something that scared her. She could feel it in her soul and Nana’s cards had only confirmed her suspicions. Mallory was hosting the region’s largest witch convention, Hexfest—a conference for witches, spiritual guides, and other magical teachers from around the world—and she needed advice from the other side.
Mallory squeezed her eyes closed, wanting so much to see her father, to hear his voice one last time. It had been eighteen years too long.
“Is anything happening?” Mallory whispered. She could hear the wind battering the shop outside. Bohemian Lake was catching the tail end of a nasty spring storm.
“Nothing is going to happen if you keep talking, Mal.” Star’s voice seemed loud even though she was whispering.
The candle on the table between them flickered as though some errant breeze had filtered through the room. There was a scratching sound at the window beside them. Mallory rationalized it as a tree branch, clawing at the glass but this was Main Street and the trees didn’t butt up against the shops.
Star invited the dead to join them again, but they were met once again with silence.
Star sighed. “I’m sorry, Mal. Maybe we could try again later, during the witching hour.”
Mallory opened her eyes and glanced around the room. A prickly tingling went up and down her spine, but that was all. About what you’d expect when you’re sitting in a dark room trying to call back the dead. “Maybe he doesn’t want to come back.”
“Listen, it’s not always that cut‑and‑dry. Sometimes it isn’t that easy to come back. Maybe your father just can’t get here to you—maybe there’s a reason like there was with Jilli.”
Mallory smiled at her, took her hands back and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thanks for saying that, but I think chances are slim that he’s alive too.”
As though her words were a signal to some unseen source, the wind outside began whipping up
even harder. The candle on the table not only went out–it, and the candleholder, fell over. The tree branch that had been politely tapping on the window broke off and smashed into the glass. Rain and wind blew in on them from the cracks.
Star and Mallory moved quickly away from the broken window that overlooked Main Street. “I think we might have created a breach in the spirit plane. That kind of stuff doesn’t just happen with a normal séance.”
“It’s just the storm,” Mallory assured her. She walked to the window to get a better look. Storm debris was being pushed across the road, but people were still out, dressed in colorful ponchos and boots. Mallory bent to pick up a toy truck that lay on the floor instead–a face flashed in her mind when she touched it—the finder’s touch. “This belongs to little Jimmy Jones.”
Star nodded. “He was in here earlier with his grandmother. He must have dropped it. Look at that,” Star whispered, pointing. “Does that look like something the storm dragged in?”
Mallory followed her finger and saw an orb of light floating across the dark room. She’d seen orbs before, thanks to her Roma heritage—one had turned out to be her great-grandmother Simza.
“Who is it?” Mallory asked Star.
“I don’t know yet,” she answered, clearly awed. “Spirits sometimes travel like this when they don’t take form.”
Mallory swallowed hard. “Can you talk to it?”
“I don’t think so. It’s pure energy.”
“Do you think it’s my father?”
As if in answer, the orb flared out like a sparkler, then disappeared.
Heart pounding, Mallory answered her trilling phone and tried to focus.
“Hello?” It was about the conference. “Okay, tell her I’ll be right there,” Mallory promised one of the other BFC members who sounded on the verge of collapse.
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