Stuck in the Middle Witch You (A Middle Witch Mystery Book 1)

by Danielle Finch

  Stuck in the Middle Witch You

  Danielle Finch

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2017 by Danielle Finch

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For The Scarlet Pamplemousse and Jean Bean

  Chapter 1

  “Five minutes, Raine!” I shouted in the direction of my sister’s bedroom, then dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  I headed straight for the coffee maker, grateful that there was enough left for a morning jolt. If I ever needed one, today was the day. I poured a cup and glanced out the small bay window above the sink. It was drizzling, and a light fog was slowly lifting. In the distance, I could just make out the shape of the ferry as it headed back to the mainland.

  From my pants pocket I pulled out my list and the trusty little golf pencil that someone had carelessly left behind at the café. I’m an obsessive list-maker. It’s a habit I learned from my fourth-grade teacher after forgetting my homework one too many times. And it worked—I’d never forgotten another homework assignment, and even better was the little thrill of satisfaction that came from finishing a task and crossing it off. Pathetic, I know.

  As I read through the items on my list, I heard the back door open and close. There’s a small mudroom just off the kitchen and I opened the door to see who was in there. My grandmother, Gigi, stood there taking off her yellow raincoat and matching hat. We called it her rubber ducky outfit.

  “Morning. You’re dripping,” I said, and nodded at the floor.

  “So I am,” Gigi said, looking down at the small puddle forming at her feet. She slipped off her hat and coat and hung them on the hooks next to the door, then sat down on the bench and stuck a foot out in my direction.

  I set my coffee cup beside her, grabbed hold of one her boots, and tugged.

  “You’ve got a little something on your face,” I said, and pointed to her chin. “What were you doing out there?”

  “Ray and I were cleaning out the fire pits.” She lifted up the edge of her already dirty shirt and wiped her chin. “We really should have done it at the end of the season last year when it was still dry out.”

  Years ago, when Gigi had turned the running of our parent’s café over to me and my older sister Ember, she’d decided that instead of retiring, she would turn some of the acreage behind the house into a tourist campground. Ray Buell, a local handyman who’d helped keep our one-hundred-year-old house from falling apart since before I was born, was hired full-time to help her build and manage it. Right from the start, it was a success. People came from all over to camp at Emerald Island Campground.

  “What’s happening with your seasonal staff?” I asked as I pulled off her other boot. “Shouldn’t you have hired people by now?”

  “We’re in the process of doing that, but until we find someone, Ray and I can manage just fine.” She stood and ruffled her silvery pixie-cut hair with her fingers. “And that reminds me, tell Ember I’m still waiting for her to have a look at the website. There’s something wrong with the emails.”

  “I will,” I said. I picked up my cup and walked back into the kitchen

  Gigi closed the mudroom door and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. “I thought you wanted to get an early start today. Didn’t you say you had prep work to do for the party tonight?”

  “I do, I’m just waiting for Raine.”

  “That might be a long wait.” She dried her hands and looked up at me. “She left twenty minutes ago.”

  “What do you mean, she left?” My little sister was never on time for anything, let alone early.

  “Ray took her in. He was going to the lumber store to get supplies for the new welcome booth.”

  “And you didn’t think it was odd she was going to the café without me?”

  “Oh, you finished the coffee,” she said, ignoring my question. She picked up the coffee pot and put it under the tap.

  “Gigi?”

  “Shouldn’t you get going, dear?” She turned the water on full force.

  “Gigi.” I lowered my voice. “What’s going on?” I walked over to the sink and turned off the water. “Why did Raine leave early?”

  “Sweetheart, give her a chance.”

  “Give her a chance at what? What are you talking about?”

  “She just wants to help.”

  “Wants to help with—” And then I realized what she meant. “Are you serious? No way! If she so much as lays one finger on those platters I’ll kill her.” I dropped my cup into the sink and raced out of the kitchen.

  “What could go wrong?” Gigi asked as she followed me out into the foyer. “It’s hors d’oeuvres for a bunch of business people, not a five-course dinner for the president. It’ll be fine.”

  “Gigi, this is Raine we’re talking about. Everything could go wrong.”

  I shrugged on my jacket, slid my feet into my shoes, and grabbed my keys off the little antique table. A quick check in the mirror and I was good to go.

  “Being a bit dramatic, aren’t we?”

  Gigi and I looked up the stairs. Violet was making her way down. She reached the bottom step, wrapped her tail neatly around her paws, and looked up at me.

  “It’s just a simple little cocktail party. No need to get your knickers in a twist.” She flicked the tip of her tail.

  “It may be a simple party, but this is the café’s first catering job and we need to do it right. And I don’t have my knickers in a twist, thank you very much.”

  I fought back the temptation to stick my tongue out at Violet. She has a knack for bringing out the worst in people, and she knows it.

  Just to be clear, Violet is a cat. Well, technically she’s a human cursed to live her life in feline form. And unfortunately for us, she can talk.

  Gigi told us that when she was a child, a visiting aunt tried to reverse the curse, but had no luck. (If bringing Violet back to human form can be considered lucky. That’s debatable.) We don’t know why she was cursed (she won’t let the cat out of the bag, so to speak), and none of our relatives know either. All we know for certain is we have a distantly related, talking cat whose only redeeming quality is she no longer possesses her witch powers.

  Yes, that’s right: I come from a family of witches. Myself, my sisters Raine and Ember, and Gigi—we’re all witches. We try to keep that quiet, of course. And for the most part, we do. Mostly.

  Gigi steered me away from Violet and toward the door. “Don’t be too hard on Raine. She only wants to contribute.”

  “I know. I just wish her contributions were a little less experimental and a little more successful.” I kissed he
r on the cheek and opened the front door. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Wait!”

  I sighed and turned around. “Yes, Violet?”

  “Hold the door, please. I need to tinkle.”

  I opened the door a little wider and let her pass. She deliberately rubbed against my legs and left a coating of black fur on my pants. The urge to introduce the toe of my shoe to her furry rear end was quickly suppressed when Gigi spoke.

  “Breeze.” It was just my name, but with it came the warning to leave Violet alone. I swear that woman could read minds.

  Chapter 2

  I jumped into my little red Toyota and headed into town. The drizzle had stopped and the sun was beginning to peek through the clouds. Normally, I take my time. It’s a pretty drive with cottages and thick stands of pine trees dotting the landscape on my right and the ocean to my left. Today, though, I ignored the scenery and raced to the café.

  Back when Emerald Island’s economy was based on fishing, the cottages were nothing more than shacks housing the families who made their living fishing and working in the cannery. Those days are long gone, and the shacks have been given makeovers by their new owners. What were once drab wooden buildings are now brightly painted cottages that are either homes to locals or rented out to tourists.

  I slowed down as I got to the curve in the road that leads up into the town. One- and two-story wood-clad buildings occupied both sides of the street, and for most of the businesses, blue or white was the color of choice. A few were crowned with colorful awnings, giving the street that quintessential small-town charm.

  On the ocean side of the street, because the buildings are on the edge of the bluff, there is no rear access. Delivery drivers hate it. Instead of pulling up to a back door with their trucks, they’re forced to load whatever it is they’re delivering onto hand-trucks and then wheel them through the narrow openings between each shop and around to the back.

  It’s not so bad in the off-season, but come summer there’s virtually nowhere to park except maybe on a side street, so delivery drivers are forced to load up their hand-trucks and wheel their wares down the street. Fortunately for Aura, our little café, it’s right on the corner of the second block and has a side entrance.

  I pulled around the corner, parked and got out. Before I even opened the kitchen door, I could hear my older sister Ember arguing with Raine.

  Not for the first time, I thought about investing in a referee shirt and whistle. Being the middle sister was a thankless job—and the pay sucked.

  I pulled the door open. Ember was standing with her back against the long metal prep counter, a large steel bowl firmly in her grasp.

  “It’s disgusting,” she said.

  “It is not. You haven’t even tried it.” Raine was standing in front of Ember, pointing a long wooden spoon at her.

  “I don’t need to try it to know it’s disgusting.” Ember’s caramel-colored hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and I could see a light sheen of perspiration across her forehead. They’d been at this awhile.

  I walked over to Raine and plucked the spoon from her hand, but kept it pointed at Ember. “Why did you let her do this?”

  “I didn’t let her do it. She was already here when I showed up. Listen, you’re the one who wanted to do this catering thing, you deal with it.” Ember thrust the bowl into Raine’s hands and left the kitchen in a huff. Typical Ember.

  I shook the spoon at Raine. “Care to explain?”

  “Explain what? And stop pointing that thing, you’re not Harry Potter. Besides, as far as I know, Middleton witches don’t use wands.”

  “And you’re not Rachael Ray. I told you the menu was already set.” I tossed the spoon into the sink and crossed my arms.

  “Come on, Bree, it’s just a little eggplant and kale, and a couple of other things. Just try it, please.”

  The pleading look on her face got to me—that and the fact that she’s the spitting image of our late mother. She had the same heart-shaped face, tiny nose, and blue eyes. She even wore her long blond hair in a loose fishtail braid like our mother used to.

  Maybe I was being a bit of a control freak, but it was the first catering job for our little café, and I wanted everything to be perfect.

  “Fine,” I said, and threw up my hands in defeat. “Let me try it, and we’ll see.”

  Raine smiled and held out the bowl. I pulled a spoon from the container on the counter and scooped out a bit of the concoction. It was so dark it was almost black. I brought the spoon up to my mouth and stopped. “You didn’t put anything weird in here, did you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean.” Raine’s potion-making skills were limited at best. It was something even Ember and I were barely competent at. The last time we’d tried a potion it didn’t go well. Ray had been clearing a new campsite and had put his hands into a patch of stinging nettles. In our attempt to speed the healing and reduce the pain using what we thought was a healing potion, we ended up spreading the stings all over his body. Gigi had to step in and reverse what we had done.

  “No, of course not. It’s all vegan, all natural, no witchy stuff.”

  I put the spoon in my mouth and swallowed. At first, all I could taste was garlic, which wasn’t so bad. Then a moment later, it tasted like I had eaten something the ocean had left behind at low tide. In the sun. For a week.

  I grabbed a glass and filled it with water as fast as I could. I drank it down, but it didn’t help. If anything, it just enhanced the funky, low-tide taste. I ran to the fridge and looked for some milk. I grabbed a jug and gulped down half of it before the hideous taste in my mouth subsided.

  “What were you thinking? I can't believe you actually like this.” I gasped, and took another swig of milk, convinced that no matter how much I drank I would never get rid of the awful taste in my mouth.

  “It can't be that bad,” Raine said. “It smelled good.”

  “What do you mean, it smelled good? Didn't you taste it?”

  “Well, no. Ember grabbed the bowl before I could try it.” Raine looked down at her fingernails as if they were the most interesting things on earth.

  I scooped some of the gunk out of the bowl and held it out to her. “Try it.”

  “No.” She put her hands up and backed away. “You're not going to serve it tonight, so what's the point?”

  I resisted the urge to shove the glop in her mouth, and put the spoon in the sink. “The point is, you need to listen when I tell you something. I told you the menu was set, but you went ahead and did this anyway. It's like you're trying to sabotage everything I'm trying to do for us. Grow up, Raine.”

  “I am grown up, in case you hadn't noticed. And I'm just as much a partner in this business as you and Ember, and I'm getting tired of being told what to do.”

  “Calm down,” I said.

  “Stop telling me what to do!” She threw the bowl in the sink and turned to face me. “Who died and made you boss?”

  I felt like I’d just taken a punch to the stomach.

  “I didn’t mean that,” Raine said when she realized what she’d said. “That was a horrible thing to say. I’m sorry, Bree.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “It’s okay.” I sighed, and put my arms around her and gave her a hug. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

  We had inherited Aura Café from our parents, sadly, sooner that any of us had expected. Our parents have been gone for more than fifteen years. I was eleven, Ember was thirteen, and Raine was barely five when our parents took their sailboat out for a day trip to celebrate their fifteenth anniversary. They never returned; the boat was never found.

  I gave her another squeeze, and then let go just as the back door opened. Jason Cramer was our bread delivery guy; young, cute, and head-over-heels in love with Raine. The feeling wasn’t exactly mutual. Raine liked to date but not commit. That was one of the few things Ember and I approved of. Even though it was for different reasons.

 
“Morning, Jason.” I grabbed the stacked loaves of still-warm bread from his arms, put them on the counter, and inhaled deeply. Nothing smells better than freshly baked bread. “Is this all?”

  “Hi, Bree. No, I’ve got another load in the truck, and I have a new loaf Lacey wants you to try. She calls it Island Surprise.”

  I’d had enough food surprises for one day. “I will, later, thanks. And don’t forget, we’ll meet you here at five-thirty to gather everything to take to the gallery.”

  “I’ll be here. I even borrowed a tie.”

  I smiled at him. He’d probably never worn a tie in his life, but I was glad he was taking tonight’s event seriously. When I’d asked him last week if he’d be willing to give us a hand at the party, he didn’t hesitate to say yes. He hadn’t even bothered to ask what he would be paid, but I had a feeling he would have done it for free as long as Raine was there.

  He turned to Raine. “Hi, Raine.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and dropped his head. “You look nice,” he mumbled.

  “Thanks,” she said. Any evidence of what had transpired between us was gone, and she was back to her usual cheerful self. “I’ll help you get the rest of the bread.” She grabbed Jason’s arm and pulled him through the door.

  His face lit up at the touch of Raine’s hand, and I felt sorry for him. Unrequited love, pal, I thought, get used to it.

  Chapter 3

  I spent the rest of the morning getting the food ready for the party and cooking for the few customers who came in. The menu at Aura hadn’t changed a whole lot since my parents’ time—simple, fresh, and organic whenever possible. At this time of year we served mostly locals, but soon enough the island would be inundated with tourists and we’d be run off our feet.

  “Hey, Bree, come here and take a look at this,” Ember called out.

  I pushed through the swinging double doors that led out of the kitchen and into the front of the café. Ember was standing at the wide front window that overlooked the street. “Look.” She was pointing to something out on the street.