The Witching Flavor (A Cozy Mystery Book): Sweetland Witch

by Zoe Arden

  "Let it go" became my motto for the day.

  The search had begun in the early morning, and it continued until midday. What had begun in the park expanded to cover the rest of Sweetland Cove. Groups split up to cover more territory, with Sheriff Knoxx doing his best to keep track of who was searching where. As the search zone widened, he enlisted the help of Mistmoor Point's Sheriff Maxwell to keep an eye on the areas he couldn't be in.

  Damon and I left my dad and aunts near Mystic Cupcake. They were going to search every square inch around the bakery for a five-block radius. We headed to the other side of Sweetland's downtown area. We weren't far from The Alchemic Stone, Anastasia's shop. It had been ages since I'd been inside, and I didn't exactly relish being this close to it. Not after what Polly had done to me the last time I was there. I still had a slight scar at the bottom of my neck, where the heriotza pendant Polly had given me had tried to burn a hole right through my chest.

  The sign on the door was flipped to CLOSED. Damon hovered nearby. I thought he was getting bored and wondered why he'd bothered coming with me anyway. He was supposed to be the older one yet he was acting like a petulant child.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw a streak of black ran past me. I blinked and looked again. Anastasia Peacock was crossing the street. I nudged Damon with my elbow. He looked where I indicated, and I felt him tense beside me.

  "Is she coming over here?" he asked.

  I opened my mouth to say "I don't think so," but before I could, she veered the path she was on so that she was headed right for us.

  "Let's get out of here," Damon whispered and grabbed my hand. I was suddenly reminded of the way Megan had pulled Conner around the night before.

  "Wait a minute," I said. "Let's see what she wants."

  Despite Anastasia's part in Polly and Slater's scheme, I was curious to see what she might have to say. Anastasia had paid her dues. At least as far as I was concerned. She had been forced to undergo an inquisition with the Council on Magic and Human Affairs. They had found her innocent of murder and accessory to murder. Unlike Polly and Slater.

  Anastasia's powers had been stripped for six months, but they were back. During the time she'd been without them, I hadn't run into her once. She had holed herself up in The Alchemic Stone, conducting business as usual, but never leaving the store. She'd become a hermit. As far as I knew, this was the first time she'd been outside in months.

  Her blond hair fell past her shoulders, messy but clean. A necklace with a purple crystal the size of a golf ball lay against her skin.

  "Ava Fortune," she said, her voice breathy.

  "Hi, Anastasia. Er, how are you?"

  I could feel Damon tug gently on my sleeve.

  "Your fortune is not running with you today. The wrong path will lead you nowhere."

  Great. She's talking in riddles. Anastasia had a habit of doing that.

  "Um, I don't suppose you've seen Lucy Lockwood, have you? Everyone's looking for her."

  "You're on the wrong path," she said again.

  Was she trying to be cryptic or was she giving me a clue? Anastasia had always had a flair for being dramatic.

  "What path should I be on?" I asked her, playing along. She may have been a little nutty, but she was a powerful psychic. If she was giving me a clue, I didn't want to miss it.

  "Whisper Crossing," she said, leaning in toward me.

  "Is Lucy there?" I asked, hopeful.

  There was a gentle shake of her head, and my heart fell flat.

  "Go there. Find the answers." She flapped her hands theatrically in the air, like a bird about to take flight, then hurried back across the street, never looking behind her.

  Find the answers? Great. What was the question?

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

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  "Whisper Crossing?"

  Sheriff Knoxx grunted. He looked dubious.

  "That's what she said," I told him.

  "And?" Eleanor pressed. She didn't seem to think seeing Anastasia on the streets was as weird as I did.

  "And nothing. She said we're looking in the wrong place."

  "The wrong place?" Sheriff Knoxx scoffed, stepping into the center of our group. Damon and I had caught up with them back in front of Mystic. When Knoxx got into full sheriff mode, his chest puffed out and his face seemed to glow alternating shades of red and green. He looked like a Christmas tree.

  "You mean to tell me Anastasia knows where Lucy is?" he asked.

  "Knows...?" I asked, biting my lip. "I'm not sure she knows precisely. Her message was a little... vague."

  Sheriff Knoxx grunted again.

  "Ava, did she give you any more details?" Eleanor asked. "Like why we should look there? Or where exactly we should look? Whisper Crossing is a big place. We could be there all day and never find anything."

  I shook my head. "All she said was that I was on the wrong path."

  "That we were on the wrong path," Damon said, tensing again. "I was there, too, you know."

  I squeezed his hand. "Right. That's what I meant."

  I didn't bother to point out that Anastasia had shown almost no interest in Damon whatsoever. I was already walking on eggshells with him. For the first time since Damon and I had started seeing each other, I began to wonder if we were playing at a losing game. I was a witch. It was a lifetime commitment. Despite his many protests, I didn't believe he was ready to accept that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  "Anastasia's just messing with you," Damon said.

  "Messing with me?" I laughed. "That's ridiculous. Why would she be messing with me?"

  "Because you got her daughter locked up in Wormwood. That's why."

  I felt the color in my cheeks deepen. "That's not fair. Polly got herself locked up. If she hadn't—"

  "I'm not blaming you," Damon said quickly. "I'm just stating a fact. You have no reason to trust her."

  "It won't hurt to go check it out," I told him. I searched the faces of my aunts, hoping for some support, but even Aunt Trixie seemed to shy away from the idea of Whisper Crossing. And she was never one to shy away from anything.

  "Why don't you want to check?" I asked, frustrated. "It won't take that long."

  Damon just seemed to be taking everything I said personally. "After what Anastasia did to you... to this town... how can you listen to anything she says?" he asked. "I just don't get it."

  "And I don't get how anyone can ignore a possible clue."

  We stood there a minute, arms folded across our chests. Eleanor, Trixie, and Sheriff Knoxx pretended not to notice that Damon and I were fighting.

  "Look at that cloud," Trixie said, pointing toward the sky. "It looks like a bunny. With fins." I knew she was trying to lighten the mood. It wasn't working.

  "Fine," I said, uncrossing my arms. "I'll just go myself."

  "Ava, I don't think that's a good idea," Sheriff Knoxx said, putting his sheriff's face on again for me and summoning his authority. "Until we figure out what's going on here, it isn't safe."

  "I'm not a child. I'll be fine."

  "I think Sheriff Knoxx is right," Eleanor said. "It isn't safe."

  "I haven't needed a wand in almost two months," I reminded them. "I'm more than capable of handling myself."

  To demonstrate my point, I pointed toward a tree and murmured, "Ignatio lumo," and a bolt of lightning shot out of my fingertips. Except the lighting was pink and looked more like a banana. My cheeks reddened.

  "All right, so I still have some work to do. There's a steep learning curve with magic."

  "Which is precisely why you shouldn't go alone," Sheriff Knoxx said.

  "Then come with me."

  "We don't have enough resources to cover the whole island," he said. "And there's no reason to go there. I still believe Lucy is somewhere in town."

  "Maybe my dad will go. Where is he, anyway?"


  "He wasn't feeling well so Trixie and I sent him home," Eleanor said.

  "Not feeling well?" He had looked a little gray earlier.

  Damon grabbed my shoulders and spun me so that I was facing him. "Promise me you won't go trekking around Whisper Crossing by yourself."

  "Damon, I—"

  "Promise me. I don't want to have to worry about you."

  "Fine, I promise. I won't go to Whisper Crossing alone."

  Satisfied with my answer, his nerves seemed to ease.

  Of course, if I take Snowball, then I won't be alone, will I?

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  SIX

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  My alarm buzzed. I sat up too fast in bed and felt my neck wrench as I leaned over to shut my phone off.

  "Ow," I whispered, massaging my neck.

  I turned my lamp on—this time I managed to do it without knocking it over—and took three deep breaths to clear my head. It was the middle of the night, and I was about do something I was certain neither Damon nor my aunts would approve of. I only wished I wasn't doing it with the shadow of my most recent dream hanging over me.

  I couldn't quite remember it. It was a lot like last time. Something—someone?—was chasing me. I had felt hot breath on the back of my neck. I still felt it there. It had been so real. I looked around my room, searching for rose petals like last time, but there was nothing unusual.

  I expelled a deep breath.

  "Time to go."

  I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and quickly dressed. Was this crazy? Maybe I should wait until morning. But I knew that once morning hit, Eleanor and Trixie would ask me to go to the bakery with them. They would want me to help bake caramel apple happiness cakes and whip up a fresh batch of tranquility extract. In other words, they'd try to keep my busy to keep my mind off of Lucy.

  I might still be having trouble casting spells, but creating mood extracts had come easily to me. Trixie and Eleanor said I'd gotten the knack from my mother. I had yet to try boxie quill extract, though. That was one extract that both terrified and fascinated me. A plant so deadly it could kill... an extract so powerful it could transform.

  My father had absolutely forbidden me to touch it. Even though I was twenty-one and he couldn't make me do anything anymore—especially since it was Trixie and Eleanor's house we were living in, not his—I had readily acquiesced to his house rule. I wouldn't try my boxie quill extract until I was ready. In other words? When I stopped throwing pink bananas at trees.

  "Snowball," I whispered.

  Snowball pushed my door gently open and came running into the room. She so fast she was nothing more than a blur of white. When she nuzzled her head against the back of my hand the last remnants from my dream disappeared. Snowy had that effect on me.

  "Are you ready?" I asked her.

  "Snowball is ready," she purred loudly. "Snowball will help Mama."

  "I know you will, Snowy. Thanks for coming. Now remember, we have to be real quiet when we're leaving the house. I need to borrow Aunt Eleanor's car and I don't want to wake her."

  I wished I knew how to fly a broom. That would be so much easier than sneaking off with Eleanor's car. From what I understood, the new Motorcoach 2000s were a step above the 1800s. They could get you anywhere in ten minutes flat. Then again, did I really want to be flying through the air that fast without a seatbelt? I could barely walk straight, let alone fly straight. A crash seemed imminent in a situation like that.

  "Snowball understands. It is a secret mission."

  I considered Snowy's words. "That's right. A secret mission. You're a very clever little cat, you know that?"

  "Snowball knows."

  I giggled and grabbed my purse. "When we get to Whisper Crossing, stay close to me, okay? I don't want to lose you."

  "Snowball knows her way home. Mama does not have to worry."

  I smiled at the reassurance Snowball always brought me. I fished in my purse for the spare set of keys Eleanor had given me. They slipped right through my fingers and clinked on the floor next to my bed. I bent over to get them and a pair of bright gray and green eyes shined back at me. I jumped and tripped over my own feet, falling butt first to the floor.

  Tootsie popped her head out from under my bed.

  "Toots! You scared me! How long have you been hiding there?"

  "Tootsie is not hiding. Tootsie was sleeping. Ava woke Tootsie up."

  My voice softened. I should have known better. Though technically Trixie's familiar, Tootsie had been my mother's familiar before her death. Trixie had inherited Toots after my mother was murdered. Because of his relationship with my mom, Tootsie and I had a special bond. He was always watching out for me.

  "You won't tell Trixie or anyone where we're going, will you?" I asked.

  Tootsie cocked his head, considering. "No. Ava's secret is safe. Ava is safe from Rocky as well. He is sleeping in Eleanor's room."

  I nodded. Eleanor's wolfhound always slept near her at night. He was a massive gray and white canine that was very fond of midday naps and almost never left Eleanor's side. If he knew what I was up to, he might rat me out. I loved Rocky but was glad he was in the other room just now.

  "Come on, Snowy," I said. She trailed after me as we tiptoed quietly down the stairs. I was almost to the front door when a man's voice rang out into the darkness.

  "Ava?"

  Uh oh.

  I turned and realized the soft light from above the stove was on in the kitchen. I waited a second, wondering if I could have imagined my father's voice.

  "Ava? Is that you?" He sounded tired and a little alarmed.

  I sighed and walked toward him. "Yes, Dad. It's me.

  "What are you doing up so late?" he asked when I walked into the kitchen.

  I could smell the coffee he'd brewed and poured myself a half cup. The light in the room was just enough so we could see each other's outline, but not much more than that. That was probably a good thing just now—it meant he wouldn't be able to tell that I was dressed in street clothes and not pajamas. There was a soft, fuzzy glow around him where the light and the darkness met, each fighting for control.

  "I could ask you the same thing," I teased, taking the seat opposite him. Snowball had disappeared back up to my room.

  "I was just..."

  I tried to make out his face. Even in the darkness, I could sense how tired he was.

  "I couldn't sleep," he finally said.

  "And coffee's going to help with that?"

  He chuckled. "What about you? Couldn't sleep either?"

  I glanced at the clock. It was almost three.

  "I guess not," I said. "I've been having some weird dreams lately."

  "Oh? Anything you want to talk about?" His voice was strained. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was scared.

  "Nah. Just... I don't know. You know how dreams are."

  He nodded and sipped his coffee. The house was almost too quiet. I could hear my father's breath as he inhaled and exhaled. I could almost hear the steam rising from his coffee mug. We sat like that, in total silence, for several minutes. Each lost in thought.

  "We haven't talked much lately," he suddenly said, breaking the silence.

  "Oh, um, I guess not."

  In some ways, it had always been hard to talk to my dad. I couldn't ask him about my mom growing up because it hurt him too much. He'd always been so protective. That's why he'd followed me to Heavenly Haven when I'd come here with Eleanor and Ava. He'd returned to the very place he swore he'd never set foot on again—a place that held nothing but painful memories—because of me.

  "How are things with you and Damon? Tell him I'm ready for that golf rematch anytime he wants."

  "I'll tell him," I said. I hesitated before continuing. "Actually, things are sort of... complicated with Damon just now."

  "Complicated?" he asked. He shifted in his seat an
d the light caught him just right. I could see him arch one eyebrow in my direction.

  "Well, it's just that... I'm a witch. And he... isn't. He's not anything magical, I mean. I think he's a little..."

  "Jealous?"

  I nodded.

  "Ava," my father began. He paused to consider his next words. "Are you sure it's jealousy that he feels and not something more simple? Like being left out?"

  "Left out?" I asked. "But I include him in everything."

  "I know. But being included and following along are two different things, and sometimes those lines get blurred."

  I scrunched my face, wondering if I'd been misinterpreting Damon's behavior.

  "Just think about it," my father said. "You know him better than I do."

  "Thanks, Dad." I took another sip of coffee. "Do you want to talk about your dreams?"

  The feeling in the room suddenly shifted. "What do you mean?" he asked, tensing.

  "Nothing, I just thought that maybe you'd had a nightmare or something."

  "Why would you think that?" he asked, sounding defensive.

  "No reason. Just, you know, you're sitting in the kitchen alone in the middle of the night. It's either a nightmare or..."

  "Or what?"

  I realized I'd been about to say, "Or you're sulking about Mom again," and was glad I didn't.

  "Or you're getting old," I finished. It wasn't exactly a great answer, but it threw him off enough that he laughed and the momentary tension between us faded.

  "I'm only forty-eight," he said and sighed. "Yeah, all right, I'm up there. But you will be, too, one day. So I'd bite my tongue if I were you."

  I giggled and rose from the table.

  "Goodnight, Dad."

  "Goodnight, Ava."

  There was no use sitting down here any longer. My dad obviously wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I might as well wait and figure out a new plan for tomorrow. I went to rinse my face in the bathroom before going back to bed. The bathroom was halfway down the hallway, between my father's room and my own. Just outside my father's door, I noticed something lying on the floor. I bent to pick it up. It was soft and scented.