“What’s going on?” Star asked after Mallory got off the phone.
“It’s this conference. I need to go iron out some kinks.” Mallory hugged her and smiled. “Thank you for trying to help.”
“No problem. Go do your BFC thing. Hopefully this storm settles down.”
TWO
M allory pulled up to the circle drive and parked out front of the double doors to Caravan Manor.
“Where have you been?” Eve Banter demanded in an uncharacteristic tone of panic. She was waiting for her with a rolled cigarette between her fingers. Normally the woman was unflappable, but she looked on edge. “This place is trucking nuts!”
Mallory was drenched, and her teeth were chattering. “Eve, since when did you start smoking?” Suddenly the aroma of a teenage angst and was that…the smell of skunk hit her.
“Eve Banter! What is that in your hand?”
“What? This ole thing?” She twanged innocently and then tapped her joint against a pearl colored case, tucking it away. “I’ve got glaucoma, sweetie pie, or didn’t you know?” She smiled wide.
“Your eyes are brown.”
Eve inhaled like a scorned woman. “Well I never… are you implying I can’t have glaucoma if I have brown eyes?”
“No, I’m saying you’re full of it.”
“Ah! Judgey Judgerson.” Eve pretended to be offended but her eyes flared with amusement.
“Anyway, you had Rebel and Ellie to help out. What’s the problem?”
“The problem?” Eve repeated.
Mallory didn’t know what was going on, but she knew Eve didn’t get upset over just anything. “I mean I’m sorry. I should’ve been here. I’m soaked and freezing. Let’s start over. So, what’s going on?”
Eve took out a large pink notebook. “Where do I start? The table cloths are the wrong size. I can’t find that Ouija Board you wanted. The hoity-toity witch from Malibu needs a room with a better view, and her minions want an environmentally friendly brand of toilet paper. Damn hippies. Where the hell, do I find toilet paper made of hemp? Not to mention, the schedule won’t print, and there may not be enough champagne, but it’s too late to get any more.”
“Not enough champagne? How can that be? The basement is full.”
“Not after I get done with it, it won’t be.” Eve retorted.
Mallory sighed. “Why isn’t Nana, Danior or even the new girl Lizzy handling the manor related problems?” Mallory wiped away the rain that kept dripping down her face.
“The old battle-axe is helping Nataliya in the kitchen. Danior is probably busy making out with Emilion, and Lizzy is in there running back and forth, doing her best impression of a headless chicken. She smiled in her Eve‑like fashion. “But whatever Nataliya’s cooking smells down right scrumptious! I can’t wait!”
“Well, that’s good news. The weed must be kicking in. Where’s the rest of the BFC—Ellie, Junie, Rebel?”
“Beats me?” Eve said, now comfortably numb.
Mallory walked past her entering the lobby of the manor. It was warm and dry inside, with a pleasant fire in the old hearth and thank goodness for that because her clothes were plastered to her, and her long dark hair was hanging down her back like a sopping, wet mop, but she put on her biggest smile and began to put things in order.
The first thing she did was check in with Lizzy at the front desk to make sure Eve hadn’t scared her away. The new receptionist was a beautiful young woman, probably in her late twenties, who dressed well and seemed to have an affinity for getting along with people. Her parents had moved away before she was born, but she’d come back to take care of her ailing great uncle, Cotton Hubbard.
After she checked on Lizzy, she popped her head in the kitchen, carefully avoiding people she recognized.
Nataliya had four other cooks working with her. They all wore white jackets with cute little chef’s hats–except for Nana, who wore an apron over her costume. Mallory watched her as she directed, tasted, and got everything ready.
“Malhala?” Nana looked upset and unhappy when she saw her. “You look like a drowned rat. What happened?”
“The storm is what happened. It’s brutal out there. We should probably put towels at the front door for arriving guests.”
“But you’re speaking tonight. Hurry on and get dressed already.” She took her arm and they moved down the hall to the secret passage that would take Mal to her room. “How did it go with Star? Did you find out what’s coming?”
Mallory shrugged. “No. The spirits were quiet.”
Nana pulled her in for a hug. “I’m sorry, dear. But we’ll just have to deal with whatever comes our way.”
Mallory smiled. “We always do.”
“We are Vianu women, after all.” She pushed her toward the passage door. “Now scat! You don’t want people to see the head of Bohemian Lake’s Festival Committee looking like a drowned rat. Then get out there and mingle with those witches. That’s why you did this, right?”
She was right, Mal thought, heading up the secret stairs. Twenty witches, two days talking about gifts and powers, she was about to get some good advice on how best to manage her new talents. She was especially hoping to speak to the High Priestess herself who also happened to be a finder.
Mallory took a long hot shower and pushed the séance and the storm from her mind. She was manager of Bohemian Lake’s main resort and used to hosting events. She would dazzle as always. And the High Priestess would help her.
As she gazed at herself in the lovely antique mirror, she added a touch of lip gloss and was ready to go.
She smiled her big smile at the curvy reflection, then she saw something move. Well, it was almost something. But when she turned and stared at that area of the room, there was nothing there.
She surveyed the room. She was on the third floor of the Caravan Manor where she lived with her Nana, her sister, Danior and now her mother, Jilli. She had plans to move out to the cottage, she just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Nerves. She secured her pendant and headed out the door still feeling that residual static electricity flowing up and down her arms and against the back of her neck.
It was the storm, she told herself, as thunder rumbled outside, shaking the windows of the old manor. But her Roma instincts told her to otherwise.
THREE
T he costume ball was a great hit. People were smiling, enjoying the good food and talking to each other. The ballroom was filled with a mixture of witches and Bohemian natives all dressed in theme. Everything from 17th century dress to modern day pointy hats and occult themed capes. A few had come in opposing character costumes, witch hunters like Hansel and Gretel. It was all in good fun and everyone looked pleased. They cleaned up pretty well–especially Detective Kaden Bones. At six foot, he wasn’t quite as tall as her last boyfriend, ghost hunter, Daemon Wraith but he was still visible from any corner of the room.
Mallory was prejudiced, of course, since they’d been dating for the last few months—ever since Daemon had broken up with her in November. His Halloween trip to Brazil had been the final nail in the coffin. It was so much easier with Kaden. Sometimes it seemed as though Kaden had lived in Bohemian Lake forever even though he’d been here less than a year. And he wasn’t surprised or put off by her gifts. Magical mirrors and ghost stories left him unphased. He might not have been born in Bohemian Lake, but he belonged here.
“Seems like a good party,” he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“I can’t believe you came!” Mallory turned and hugged him. “I thought you were working tonight.”
“I traded shifts. I didn’t want to miss the festivities. It’s not every day I’m surrounded by witches unless you count Eve and the Mabels when they’re nosing for information.”
Mallory smirked.
“Speaking of Eve, looks like she’s vying for your job as president of the Festival Committee. She’s been handing out buttons for the last hour. She keeps calling it the Big Frickin’ Committ
ee.”
“I could put a hex on her.” Star joined them, wearing a beautiful white silk gown. Star never wore anything but white.
“Please don’t! I’m the one who asked her to run. I hate being the acting president. I’m only doing it because Pike’s got her hands full with the new babe and she hardly needs the stress.” Mallory said it in a joking manner–but she was partly serious.
“Well, I think you’re doing a great job,” Kaden said. “Anyway, how did the séance go?”
“No news from the other side,” Star said. “But we saw a ghost light. You don’t see those every day.”
“I’m not sure what that is,” Kaden remarked. “But I’m sorry you didn’t get answers, Mal.
“Me too.” Mallory looked over and saw Emilion setting up the microphone and podium across the room. The town’s music teacher was helping him. She excused herself from Kaden and Star–good thing too, since Eve was headed their way with buttons and hurried in the podium’s direction.
Emilion looked up and Mallory waved to let him know she was on her way just as a loud clap of thunder managed to get everyone’s attention. Several thick bolts of lightning tore through the dark sky outside the large windows.
The crystal chandeliers above them flickered and swung a little from side to side, the large teardrops tinkling loudly. The power stayed on–but a sense of uneasiness crept into the big room.
Mallory managed to avoid Eve and get through the crowd to reach the podium. Despite the storm’s furious pounding, Mallory knew no real warnings had gone up across the Bohemian Lake region.
“I thought that last one was going to do us in,” Emilion said as Mallory reached him.
“Just be ready to start up the generator if necessary—outside this time.” She said with a smile, given their last little accident.
“I know that. Are you ready ‘cause I could grab Eve if you’re not? She’s chomping at the bit.” Emilion smirked and adjusted the microphone for her.
“Thanks for the reminder.”
Mallory waited for him to step back, then addressed the group. People stopped talking and everyone looked up at her.
The thunder and lightning continued to pummel the outside while Mallory started into her speech–the guests laughed and applauded at just the right spots. She could see Eve out of the corner of her eye mimicking the words as she said them. She made a great understudy.
As Mallory spoke, she could see the trees were blowing, pushed around by the harsh winds. Emilion and the maintenance team would have their work cut out for them later.
Mallory finally finished speaking–it seemed like it took forever. Despite her words of assurance to everyone else, she still felt the storm raging outside. Maybe it didn’t look so bad, but she was beginning to feel something more coming toward them.
She looked out at the faces of people she knew and those she’d never met before. They all seemed calm and relaxed, enjoying the party. Many of them sipped the signature cocktail—a fun, shimmery purple liqueur topped with fruit and dry ice to make it smoke and swirl like a potion. Not to mention, the champagne and appetizers flowed freely–that definitely helped.
Or maybe Mallory was the only one ill at ease.
She couldn’t seem to shake that feeling that had come prior to the séance—the feeling of dread. She kept smiling anyway–that was part of her job as president of the BFC, not to mention manager of Caravan Manor. She forced herself to relax and grabbed a mummy wrapped meatball off the server’s tray. She really needed a vacation after this. She chatted and sipped some excellent wine from one of the local vineyards—conveniently owned by Kaden’s aunt and uncle, and secretly wished the costume ball was over and she was in bed.
Which wasn’t exactly unusual for her. Mallory loved managing the Manor, but she was a fiercely private person, and tonight she wanted to cuddle up with Kaden and listen to the storm rumble by in the night. She’d feel safe there with him–not just from the storm but from the strange uneasiness lurking at the edge of her skull.
“Miss Vianu!”
Mallory turned at the sound of the raspy, seductive voice and found another witch waving to her. It was Madam Sylvia Broome, the silver haired friend of Star St. James. She’d seen plenty of photos, as High Priestess of the group she was pretty much a celebrity, especially in California where she was from.
She’d come with Star to Bohemian Lake eight months ago to help her find the perfect location for her shop, which turned out to be on Main Street. Mallory had liked her right from the get-go—it was too bad she hadn’t been back to visit.
“Great speech!” Sylvia said when she reached her. She gave her an air kiss and her fabulous celebrity smile. She was dressed in an over the top black costume. “Love this place! The Caravan Manor is perfection and the people here—well, you do grow them gorgeous, now don’t you. Like him for example, hello handsome! Is he spoken for? I’m between lovers right now, as you can tell.”
“Thanks. Yeah, Caravan Manor is home, and Kaden is a fine specimen of a man although he’s not a native Bohemian. His family is from the area though.” Mallory didn’t necessarily see her as a threat for Kaden’s attention, but she didn’t want to share her love life with just anyone.
“Ladies.” Kaden joined them, smiling. He slipped his arm around Mallory’s waist. “I don’t think I’ve met your friend, Mal.”
Sylvia sipped from her flute and gave a wicked smile. “So that’s the way it is, huh? Lucky witch.”
Mallory laughed. “Kaden, this is Star’s friend, Madam Sylvia Broome of Malibu. Sylvia, this is Kaden Bones of the Bohemian Lake Police Department.”
He nodded to her. “Nice to meet you, Madam Broome.”
“Please, call me Sylvia.”
“Sylvia, how are you enjoying the costume ball?”
“You know, I was enjoying it more when I thought you were single.” She laughed, “No, it’s lovely but a wee bit dry.” She finished her glass of wine. “Or maybe I just need another cocktail. Excuse me while I go look for something and someone to share it with.”
“She’s… umm… nice,” Kaden said when she’d disappeared back into the crowd. “Have you known her long?”
“No. I only met her the once, but Star refers to her as her best friend. She’s a character, though.”
“That’s plain to see.” He agreed.
Mallory hugged him a little tighter and kissed his chin. “As much fun as you are, I have to mingle, or else Eve will trash me in her next campaign speech.”
He held her to him a moment longer. “I think she will, anyway. But seriously, are you okay? You seem a little worried. Is it the storm?”
“I’m not worried.”
“Yes, you are. You get a wrinkle right here on your forehead when you’re worried. Don’t try to lie to me. I’m a trained pro, you know.”
“I’m fine. Stop telling me I’m wrinkly and stop treating me like a suspect, Detective! Unless, you brought your handcuffs.”
“It just so happens, I did bring my handcuffs.”
“Good. You can interrogate me later.”
Mallory wandered away with a wink and actually began to relax and enjoy herself as she made the rounds of the room and introduced herself to the other witches and their families. She was telling herself the whole feeling of dread was just her imagination working overtime when she noticed Kaden and Captain Cody Lumos reach for their cells. The devices didn’t make a sound, but Mallory knew there was a problem. A loud rumble of thunder cracked over them, followed immediately by the power flickering and dying.
Nutty Maple Bacon & Bourbon Pecan Pie
Looking for a nutty new twist on a classic pecan pie? Maple syrup is a sweet addition, and bacon never hurts. It's hard to improve upon a traditional pecan pie, but this drunken, nutty Pecan Pie is a helluva way to do it!
Course Dessert
Prep Time 30 minutes
Cook Time 1 hour
Total Time 1 hour 30 minutes
Servings 8 -10 serving
s
Ingredients:
12 oz. center-cut bacon
1/2 cup light corn syrup
1/2 cup maple syrup
3 large eggs
1/2 c. sugar
1/4 c. packed brown sugar
1/4 c. bourbon
1/2 cup peanut butter
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 cups chopped pecans
1 frozen 9-inch deep-dish pie crust, unbaked
Directions:
Cook the bacon, and crumble into 1/4-inch pieces.
Carefully unroll the pie crust and arrange it in a 9-inch pie plate. Crimp or scallop the edges of the crust.
In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, corn syrup, maple syrup, peanut butter, sugar, brown sugar, bourbon, butter and vanilla until smooth.
Stir in pecans and bacon.
Pour into pie crust.
Place pie on a baking sheet and bake at 350 degrees for 45-50 min, or until the center doesn't jiggle, and appears set.
Remove from heat to a wire rack to cool (approx. 3 hours). Cut and serve.
Store in refrigerator.
About the Author
Rachael Stapleton lives in a Second-Empire Victorian home with her husband and two children in Canada where she dashes about aged wood, arched dormers and snowy hills, making up holiday themed whodunit stories.
Looking for more? Try the Time Traveling Bibliophile
Book 1: Temple of Indra’s Jewel
Book 2: Temple of Indra’s Curse
Book 3: Temple of Indra’s Lies
Book 4: Temple of Indra’s Witch
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Nuttier Than Pecan Pie Page 15
