Easy Bake Coven: Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries

by J. D. Shaw

  Once they were settled in apartment 3-F, Nana Mary took her usual seat in the Amish-crafted rocking chair near the picture window. “Nora told me she set you up on a date with a handsome deputy.”

  “She did indeed.” Vivienne revealed. “His name is Joshua Arkins and he’s a very nice man.”

  “I can’t believe Nora picked a good one. She’s usually so lousy at it.” Nana Mary chuckled. “Except for your father, that is. She got that one right, thank goodness.” As she rocked back and forth in the chair she rested her fingers under her chin. “So I heard there was some foul play downtown.”

  “Yes.” Vivienne began to grow tired of discussing the subject. “I wasn’t able to open my bakery because of it.”

  “But that’s not why you’re here.” Nana Mary’s green eyes sparkled. “You’re here because of the book.”

  Vivienne had almost forgotten the journal tucked under her arm. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “I had a feeling you’d be coming sooner or later once Nora remembered to give you the cookbooks.” Nana Mary chuckled. “And she thinks I’m the one with the failing memory.”

  “Well, she did have some concerns after her last visit. She had mentioned you talking to a bird outside the window?”

  Nana Mary let out a hearty laugh and then snorted.

  “What’s so funny?” Vivienne wondered.

  “It’s just a game I was playing on your mother. She’s always watching me, waiting for some random ailment to strike. So I decided to give her something to scratch that itch.”

  “Nana Mary, you are terrible.” Vivienne found herself chuckling at her grandmother’s wit. “She was really worried, I think.”

  Nana Mary waved her hands. “Oh, pish tosh. She’ll get over it.”

  “So you know about this book.” Vivienne held it out to her. “What is it?”

  “Why, your heritage of course.”

  Vivienne felt her jaw go slack. “Come again?”

  Nana Mary took a deep breath and composed herself. “It’s a collection of spells and wisdom more properly known as a grimoire.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It’s a book of magic,” Nana Mary explained, “Spells and such that have been in our family for generations.”

  “You’re pulling my leg.” Vivienne smiled. “I’m not as easy to fool as Mother.”

  “I’m serious.” Nana Mary’s voice was firm. “This is something I’ve been waiting to tell you for a long time.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Vivienne shook the journal in her hands. “This is a book of magic? Not the kind about pulling rabbits out of hats or sawing ladies in half, right?”

  Nana Mary leaned forward in her rocker and pointed her left index finger at Vivienne. “You’re here because you tried to show it to someone and they didn’t see anything but blank pages, right?”

  Vivienne blinked in response. “How did you know that?”

  Nana Mary rocked slowly back and forth in her chair. “The same thing happened to me when I found the book.” She shrugged in response. “I thought maybe I was losing my marbles early on too. It happens to everyone.”

  “Nana Mary, you’re telling me that you’re a…”

  “A witch?” She finished the sentence. “Yes, I’m telling you that my darling granddaughter.”

  “This isn’t real.” Vivienne reasoned. “Magic is just sleight of hand card tricks and coins pulled from ears.”

  “For most people it is anyway.” Nana Mary agreed. “But for those of us skilled in the craft we know different. We don’t have to accept the status quo of life, hoping to make lemons into lemonade. We get to bend the rules a little in order to get the most benefit from certain situations.”

  “Mother is a witch too?”

  “She’s I-N-O class.”

  Vivienne bit down on her lower lip. “What’s that?”

  “In name only.” Nana Mary clarified. “For two hours on Halloween night she wears a silly black hat while handing out fun-sized candy bars to kids like most of the regular folks.”

  “So she’s not like you?”

  “Or you either.” Nana Mary smiled. “You see, real magic is powerful. It comes from nature and nature knows how to portion it out so that things remain in balance.” She glanced out the window as a gentle breeze rattled the bright red leaves of a sugar maple tree outside. “To keep things in order the power skips a generation. Sort of a failsafe mechanism, if you want to get technical.”

  Vivienne rubbed her hand across the worn cover of the grimoire. “Why tell me now?”

  Nana Mary returned her gaze to Vivienne. “Because there’s trouble brewing in town and you’re going to need magic to get through it in one piece.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re in danger, my dear. There’s a dark force moving through the town, something that isn’t playing by the rules of magic.”

  “Nana Mary, you’re frightening me.”

  “Good. Use your fear to your advantage. You’ll need all your energy to focus on learning the craft and protecting yourself from harm.” Nana Mary pointed to the book. “The lock opened after it tasted your blood. The grimoire has sensed the capability within you and now it offers its secrets.”

  Vivienne glanced down at her finger where the paper cut had been. It was almost completely healed. “You’ll have to forgive me for acting strange, but this is an awful lot to take in. I don’t know where to begin or even if I fully believe in magic.”

  “That doesn’t matter, my dear. The magic believes in the power of you.” She reached down into her sweater and pulled out a long chain with a round pendant attached. It had a five-pointed star engraved into a thick piece of silver. “My final spell was cast the other week. The magic is draining away little by little with each passing day.”

  “You’re not a witch anymore?”

  “I’ll always be a witch.” Nana Mary smiled warmly as she fingered the pendant. “But the spell book and all its power has now passed on to you. It’s the way things have always been and how they are supposed to be.”

  “But I have a business to open, a new relationship to pursue.” Vivienne counted them off on her right hand. “Now I have to add apprentice witch to the list? I don’t have time for all this.”

  “Make the time, darling granddaughter.” Nana Mary insisted. “Start at the beginning of the book and don’t skip ahead. It will all start to make sense, I promise.” She reached out for a hug. “Now hurry along home and start learning. Oh, and you better keep this conversation from Nora. If she hears a word of this she’ll really think I lost my marbles.”

  Chapter 12

  After leaving Nana Mary’s apartment, she ended up at her mother’s home after all. It was like living in a day dream, having a magic book that no one else could read. She couldn’t resist testing the theory one more time. Just to be sure.

  “So I found this journal tucked into the box of books you gave me the other day and I thought it was interesting.” Vivienne sat at the kitchen table of her childhood home across from her Mother. Nora was fond of picking a new motif for her kitchen about every two years and the most recent choice for a decorating theme turned out to be apples. Café curtains to dish towels to little apple salt and pepper shakers. If it had an apple on it, it was in her collection.

  “What’s so interesting about it?” Nora took a sip of her tea from a mug with a picture of a basket of apples on it.

  Vivienne slid the grimoire across the table. “Take a look.”

  Nora reached over and opened the cover. Her eyes narrowed. “My word, that’s something.”

  “What is?” Vivienne practically shouted with excitement.

  “This book is so musty, phew.” She turned her face away from it and grimaced. “It’s old all right. I’d probably toss it in the garbage.”

  “What about the pages?” Vivienne pressed.

  “They’ve probably got mold spores on them.” She closed the book and pushed it
back to Vivienne. “I better spray the table down with some Lysol after we’re done.”

  “Were they blank?” She asked.

  “Shouldn’t they be?” Nora adjusted her glasses in annoyance. “My eyes aren’t that bad, dear.” She sighed and sipped some more tea.

  “I was just curious.” Vivienne shrugged. “I didn’t want to toss it if it had some sort of sentimental value.”

  “You’re starting to sound like Nana Mary now.” Nora clucked her tongue. “You should be getting more sleep. It’s very important according to this article I read in one of my magazines. There’s a quiz that even helps you to find the estimated number of hours of sleep that you need.”

  “I was going to go back to the bakery today and start the destroyed product list. Sleep isn’t high on the priority list at the moment.” Vivienne ran her fingers along the worn cover of the journal. It felt warm to her, almost alive. A few times, out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn the cover looked as if it were breathing.

  “Is that for your insurance?” Nora asked.

  “It’s for tax purposes.” Vivienne clarified. “I need to keep a record of everything.”

  Nora raised an eyebrow. “I never wanted to run a business because of all those infernal tax laws. It’s hard enough trying to run a household on a fixed income.”

  Vivienne knew different. If given the chance, Nora would run a business just to keep up with Clara Bunton. Even though Clara didn’t start a business, as a widow she inherited one and managed to keep it going. It was one of the few boasting points that Nora had no chance of topping. “I let the professionals at Dowling Tax and Payroll deal with all the fine details. Everything is done on computer now so you’re in and out in less than an hour.”

  But she had spent more than an hour and half with her mother. She seemed to be getting into a habit of giving away time too freely and it simply had to stop. Vivienne pulled her red Toyota into the alley which led to her parking space. Even though it was afternoon, the shadows seemed darker and more ominous than she remembered. After parking her car in the usual spot, she looked at the dumpster where Mona’s body had been left. Well, not this particular dumpster as the other one was probably locked up as evidence. But they all looked the same. Dark blue, rusted edges and lids, with faded property identifiers the disposal company had spray painted haphazardly on the sides. With keys in hand, she locked her car up and scurried up the stairs to the back door.

  A loud meow startled her and she nearly dropped the grimoire in response. Appearing from behind the dumpster, a large tom cat blinked at her with his golden eyes. His ears were ragged from old battle wounds, and a patch of gray and white fur was missing from above his right eye thanks to a recent fight. “Hello there, Mister Tom Cat.” She smiled and knelt down on the stairs. “Looks like you’ve had a rough couple of days too.”

  He raised his tail and gave it a few good shakes as he observed her behavior. He meowed once more as if telling her the introduction was strictly on his terms.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, fellow. I just wanted to say hello.” Vivienne snapped her fingers at him.

  He watched her carefully for another few seconds and then charged up the stairs and rubbed against her knees. She carefully stroked the coarse fur along his back and he purred in response.

  “I haven’t seen you around here before.” She gave his head a little scratch, careful to avoid the wound. “Where do you live?”

  His gold eyes blinked twice at her and he let out another meow.

  “You’re probably hungry.” She stood up and stuck her key in the back door. As she stepped inside he sat down on the top step and waited patiently. “I’ll see what I can find.”

  She flipped on the light switches and the faint smell of baked goods lingered in the air. She walked over to one of the refrigerators and pulled out a carton of heavy cream. Locating a chipped saucer she had dropped while setting up the kitchen, she poured some heavy cream onto it and took it outside to Tom cat.

  He rubbed back and forth against her legs as she set the saucer down.

  “Drink up my little friend.” She smiled as he lapped at the cream with vigor. “It’s the least I could do for taking my mind off what happened here.”

  He ignored her words as the heavy cream was more important.

  She waved goodbye to him and closed the door, taking care to lock it. It felt odd to have to do that now. Growing up in Cayuga Cove, she could remember how when she was a child, people wouldn’t bother to lock their doors at night. Neighbors trusted each other with spare keys to each other’s homes. Children played games of hide and go seek outdoors in the dark, rode their bikes along the desolate hiking trails around the lake, and even camped out in flimsy pup tents in backyards with nothing but flashlights and stacks of comic books. Serious crime was something that stayed downstate. But Mona Clarke’s death changed everything. The sense of trust, so crucial to small town life, was being eroded by suspicion and fear. Sadly, Vivienne thought to herself, it might never be the same.

  The destroyed product list hadn’t turned out as long as she thought it was going to be. She stuffed the items into a clear trash bag and set it alongside the back door to dispose of when she left for the day. She spent some time going through the store front with a feather duster and giving all of the shelves and glass cases a good cleaning. She loved old buildings, but they had less than desirable perk which seemed to be a never-ending supply of dust.

  As she changed around the tea display, she thought of Mona. It just wasn’t real yet. Perhaps at the funeral service, when she saw her body resting in the casket, it would finally ring true. She no sooner had sat down at the bistro table where she and Mona had had their final conversation when there was a knock at the front door.

  She stirred from her thoughts and saw Joshua waving to her. He was dressed in his deputy uniform, looking as dashing as ever. She unlocked the door and smiled. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “So am I.” He smiled back and removed his hat. “May I come in?”

  Vivienne paused and put her hand across the door slyly. “Is this business or pleasure related?”

  He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Can it be both?”

  “Well, in that case.” She removed her arm to let him in. “Please make yourself at home.”

  He ducked inside and gave a little whistle. “Wow. You’ve really made this store something special.”

  She shut the door and turned to face him. “Thanks. I tried to make it comfortable and cozy.”

  He walked around the perimeter, his black boots echoing on the tile floor. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work. Everyone at the department seems to be on edge lately.”

  “Given the circumstances, you’re forgiven.” She walked over to the bistro table and sat down facing him.

  He joined her, his knees barely fitting underneath as he set his hat on the tabletop. “I’m awful sorry that your business was caught up in this.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” She sighed. “Just bad luck I guess.”

  “I wanted to thank you for not breaking your promise that morning about telling everyone.” His steel-blue eyes zeroed in on her. “It really means a lot that I can trust you.”

  She folded her hands together on the table. “I don’t like keeping secrets.” She loved how neatly he kept his goatee manicured. Probably a regulation for wearing the uniform, she guessed. “But in your case, I made an exception.”

  “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be in the room when Sheriff Rigsbee was asking you questions.” He swallowed hard. “If he had found out that I had been talking to you that morning he would have hit the roof and I might have even lost my job.”

  She nodded in response. “It’s okay. It was easier than I thought it was going to be.”

  His posture relaxed a bit. “It’s just a protocol thing.”

  She remembered how Sheriff Rigsbee has classified them as being in a relationship and she wanted to ask him which of them had said that
. But she lost her nerve and just kept nodding at him. “I understand.”

  He reached over and placed his hands over hers. “How are you holding up?”

  She shrugged. “Well, I’ve delayed the opening until after Mona’s funeral out of respect.”

  “I meant, personally.” He added.

  “Oh.” She thought for a moment about all the business with the grimoire and Nana Mary. “I’m taking things day to day.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good.” She answered. “My life can get surprisingly complicated for a small town girl.”

  “I could say the same for a small town boy.” He replied.

  She couldn’t believe her ears. He had opened one of his closed doors and she simply had to take action. “You’re from a small town too?”

  “Sure am.” He nodded.

  She waited as a moment of awkward silence passed and she could take no more. “So where is that?”

  “A little town in the Adirondacks called Indian Lake.” He finally revealed. “It’s also known as the moose capital of the Northeast.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.” She admitted.

  “I’m not surprised. The population is less than fifteen hundred people.”

  “So are there really lots of moose around Indian Lake?” She pressed on. “I mean, when you hear something described as the moose capital, you’d expect them to be as common as squirrels.”

  Joshua grinned. “Well, I’ve seen plenty of them but probably not as much as squirrels.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Hey, I almost forgot your gift I made.” She stood up from the table. “Stay right there while I get it.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”

  She hurried into the back room and pulled the apple blossom she had made for him the night before Mona’s death from the fridge. With a perfectly browned crust dusted with sanding sugar, it still looked as perfect as the moment she pulled it from the oven to cool. She placed it in one of her logoed cookie boxes along with a plastic fork and a few napkins and carried it out to him. “It’s nothing special.”