by Zoe Arden
"Hey," I said, "what's up?" Behind me, I could hear Colt talking. Something he said caught my attention and I listened closer. He was using words like "attacked" and "hospital." My heart started to race.
"What's wrong?" I asked my aunt.
"How do you know something's wrong?" Trixie asked.
I let out an exasperated sigh. "Because I can hear Colt talking on his phone. It sounds like someone was attacked."
"Not attacked," Trixie said. "Robbed."
"Robbed! Who? Was it Tazzie again?"
"No, Wilma Trueheart. Someone broke into her shop and ransacked the place. Took all her money and dozens of pastries."
"Is she okay?"
"She's fine. She wasn't there when it happened. But she's petrified. Eleanor and I are at the station with her right now. Sheriff Knoxx asked us to come by to see if we could calm her down."
"Why you? You're not even friends with Wilma."
I could almost hear her shrug. "I think he figured that since we're all bakers, we must be friends. I'm not really sure, but Eleanor and I couldn't just say no to someone in trouble."
I bet that's what Sheriff Knoxx was counting on.
"I'll be right there," I told her.
"Don't bother. We're taking her back to our place. Meet us there."
"Yeah, okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."
We hung up, and I turned to Colt, hands on my hips. "What do you think?" I asked. "Think it was the assassin?"
"Most likely," he said. "I've gotta get over to Mistmoor right away." He turned toward Russell. "Dad, I'll let Mark Waters know I'm leaving. Just keep the door open, okay?"
"Sure." Russ nodded, frowning. I was sure he hated the fact that he needed a constant chaperone. At least Colt had been able to get his neighbor on the list of approved babysitters. That certainly made it easier for him.
"Why do you need to go to Mistmoor?" I asked. "Is that where you think the assassin is?"
"I don't know, "Colt said, putting on his jacket and grabbing a few items to take with him. "But that's where Kayla is, and I need to talk to her. Lincoln's already with her."
"Why do you need to talk to Kayla?" I asked, confused.
Colt paused and looked at me. "Because she was just attacked. Isn't that what your phone call was about?"
"No," I said. "Kayla was attacked? Is she okay?"
"She's fine, just a little bruised up. If you weren't talking about Kayla just now, then what were you talking about?"
"Wilma Trueheart," I said. "Her bakery was robbed. She's with Sheriff Knoxx right now."
Colt's eyes widened. "Two attacks on opposite sides of the island?"
"Sheriff Knoxx isn't sure it was the assassin who robbed Wilma. It could've been anyone."
"How about we make a deal?" Colt asked. "From now on, no more secrets. You tell me what you know, and I'll do the same. I think that's the only way we're going to catch this guy."
"Agreed," I said. Instead of shaking on it, we kissed on it.
* * *
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
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I didn't trust Wilma Trueheart.
She sat on our couch crying, shaking, and acting terrified that the assassin was coming after her next, and all I could think was that it was all an act. A very good act, but an act nevertheless. For some inexplicable reason, my aunts had invited her to spend the night. When I asked them what they were thinking, Eleanor had told me that we were all bakers and had to stick together. I wondered if she really felt that way or if she was just mimicking Sheriff Knoxx's own thoughts. I suspected she may have been trying to make up for breaking their engagement when she was angry with him.
Part of me had been hoping that Eleanor might tell me something that made more sense, like she found Wilma as suspicious as I did and wanted the opportunity to spy on her. But I knew that wasn't the case. They may not have liked her or thought much of her pastries but they showed no outward signs that they found her in the least bit suspicious. Which meant it was up to me to find out the truth about her.
"So, Wilma," I said, trying to sound casual. She was sitting at our kitchen table sipping tea. "What did Mayor Thomas say when you told him about the robbery?"
She paused, took another sip of tea, then looked up at me with a blank expression. "Mayor Thomas? I haven't spoken with him. Why should I?"
"Oh," I said, feigning surprise. "I'm sorry, I assumed you'd want to fill him in on what happened since you two are dating."
Wilma almost choked on her tea this time. "Dating?" she screeched. "Me and Mayor Thomas?" She laughed much too loudly, must too erratically. Even Trixie and Eleanor exchanged a look.
"Oh, heavens no," Wilma said. "The mayor and I aren't dating. Where in the witching world did you hear that rumor?" She tried to make it seem as if she wasn't dying for me to give her a name. To rat out the gossip monger who'd actually learned the truth.
I had to make a decision. Did I tell her what I'd seen and try to drag the truth out of her, or let it go and play dumb?
"I don't remember," I said, finally deciding to play dumb. It would be better to make her think I wasn't onto her; that way, I might be able to get information out of her without her knowing it. Plus, if she was too suspicious of me, she'd never leave me alone with her stuff, and I needed to do a little snooping.
"You know, it's been a long day," Wilma suddenly said. "I think I'll go to bed, if you don't mind."
"Of course not," said Eleanor.
Trixie offered to show her to her room while Eleanor stayed downstairs with me.
"What are you doing?" Elanor hissed at me when they were gone.
"What do you mean?"
"You're questioning Wilma like she's a criminal."
"Maybe she is."
Eleanor narrowed her eyes. "Just because you saw Wilma with Mayor Thomas doesn't mean she's hiding something."
"Well, she's hiding their relationship. Why is that?"
"I don't know. Maybe they just want to take things slow. Mayor Thomas has been under a lot of pressure lately. Maybe he doesn't want to drag Wilma into it with him."
"That's awfully nice of him," I said sarcastically.
Eleanor sighed.
"I'm going to bed, too, I think," she finally said and shuffled toward the stairs. "It's been a long day."
The second she was gone, I tracked down Snowball and Tootsie. Rocky was already asleep in Eleanor's room, and I thought it might be better if he stayed there. He was extremely loyal to her and if he knew I was planning to spy on Wilma against Eleanor's wishes, he might rat me out.
"Snowy, you can have extra tuna tonight if you do something for me. You, too, Tootsie."
Their mouths hung open, salivating at the mention of tuna. Tootsie was getting almost as bad as Snowball.
"What, Mama? Snowball will help, tuna or no tuna."
I appreciated my familiar's allegiance. "Thanks, Snowy," I said, patting her head. She purred loudly as she nuzzled her nose against my hand. "I just need you to keep an eye on Wilma tonight. Let me know if she leaves her room for any reason or if she does anything you think is suspicious."
"Okay, Mama," Snowball said.
"Tootsie and Snowball are good at spying," said Tootsie. "Tootsie taught Snowball everything she knows."
Snowball head butted Tootsie for saying that, even though I suspected there was some truth to it.
Snowball and Tootsie ran upstairs to stake out Wilma's bedroom. I stayed downstairs, wondering what to do. Should I wait until she was asleep and sneak into her room? Go through her things? She had one small suitcase she'd packed and taken with her. It was in her room now. Maybe that was pushing it too far, though. Searching her bag was crossing a line. Still... what if she had something in there that proved she was involved with all this somehow? Everything with the assassin had started after she'd come to Sweetland Cove.
I paced aro
und the kitchen a little—it was my new bad habit—and checked my messages. Lucy had sent me a text saying that Megan had only told her about taking charge of the mayor's office this evening, around the same time I'd found out. She knew nothing about it until then. As for Wilma's attack, she didn't know anything about that either, though Lottie had been into Coffee Cove and apparently spread the idea that Wilma had done it herself to garner sympathy from a town that no longer liked her pastries.
Snowball came racing into the room all of a sudden. "Wilma Trueheart is on the phone. She is suspiciously talking. Snowball gets tuna now?" She looked at me hopefully.
"Let me hear what she's saying first," I said, running upstairs and stopping outside her door where Tootsie was listening in.
I could hear Wilma's voice, muffled but clear enough to make out what she was saying. "No, they don't suspect a thing."
I held my breath. Was she talking about me and my family?
"Yes, I'm here now. I don't know where Quinn is, but I'm sure he'll be in touch. He's being recalled, you know."
There was another long pause. I wished I could hear who she was talking to. "Yes, they'll never know what hit them. I'll make sure of it." It was the last thing Wilma said before hanging up. I went back downstairs, trying to piece together her conversation. Who could she have been talking to? It wasn't the mayor. I guess she was telling the truth about that one thing—not knowing where he was.
What did Wilma mean when she said, "they'll never know what hit them?" Who wouldn't know? Me? Eleanor? Trixie? All of the above. I had a bad feeling about all this. I almost tripped on the bottom stair I was so distracted. That's when I saw it. Wilma's purse was sitting on the end table in the living room. Going through it would really be crossing a line, but what choice did I have?
I thought about calling Lucy and seeing what she thought I should do, but then fate stepped in. I went to see if I could just peek inside the purse—it wasn't zipped up—without actually touching it, and accidentally knocked it off the table, spilling its contents.
"Oh, dear," I said as if someone was watching me. I bent down to put the items back in her purse. There was nothing particularly interesting. A nail file. A hair brush. A letter.
I paused with the letter in my hand. It was older but not old. Something someone had written within the last year. The paper was slightly stained and had been folded and refolded. Something told me to open it. I felt like I was in one of those cartoons where the main character has a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, both of them trying to tell the character what to do. Open it. Don't open it. Open it. Don't open it. I opened the letter.
Hey Sis,
Wish you were here. Polly's in prison, thanks to that awful Ava Fortune and her family. I'm not sure if I'll ever find a way to get her out. I could sure use your help. Think you could make time for a visit?
Love you,
Anastasia Peacock
My heart skipped a beat. I grabbed my Witchmobile and snapped a picture of the letter before stuffing it back into Wilma's purse. No one was going to believe me otherwise. I could hardly believe it myself.
Wilma Trueheart was Anastasia Peacock's sister. Polly Peacock's aunt. Polly had tried to kill me months before and was now sitting in Swords and Bones maximum security prison because of it.
Wilma Trueheart had been lying since the moment she arrived on Heavenly Haven. Now I had to find out why.
* * *
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
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We sat around the kitchen table, staring at Eleanor.
"You what?" Sheriff Knoxx asked.
It was six in the morning and he had come by before we left for the bakery to check on Wilma, who was getting ready to go back to her own bakery. I hadn't said anything to her or anyone else yet. I was still trying to figure out the best way to go about it. I'd stayed up all night thinking, talking to Snowball, and had yet to come up with a solid plan. And now Eleanor was completely befuddling my mind with her latest statement.
"Say that again," Sheriff Knoxx said, very slowly. I could hardly blame him. What I'd discovered last night was nothing compared to what Eleanor had just told us. She'd just dropped a major bombshell, and she wasn't one to be dropping bombshells.
"I'm running for mayor," she said for the second time.
"Of what?" Trixie asked, dumbfounded.
"Of Sweetland Cove," Eleanor said, irritated. "Mayor Thomas is being recalled. They announced it last night. That means a new election is going to be held to see who should replace him. Why shouldn't it be me? I've lived in this town all my life, and I know what needs to be done to make it safe again."
"Yeah, but, honey..." Sheriff Knoxx said, which was when I knew he had no idea what to say. He never called Eleanor honey. At least not in public.
"Don't you honey me," Eleanor snapped at him.
Sheriff Knoxx wisely shut his mouth.
"Eleanor, what about the bakery?" Trixie asked. She looked as though Eleanor had just told her she was planning a trip to the moon.
"What about it? My work here won't be affected. Oh, maybe I'll have to put in fewer hours, but with Eli and Ava here all the time, I don't think it will hurt anything."
"Well, I think it's wonderful," my father said, hugging her. "It's about time Sweetland Cove got itself a mayor who knows what they're doing."
Eleanor blushed happily. "It's not official yet, of course. I still have to run."
"You'll get it," I said, deciding to follow my dad's lead. I hugged her tightly.
Wilma cleared her throat, smiled, and hugged Eleanor, too. "Good luck. I was actually thinking of running myself. We may be competitors." She said it lightly, jokingly, as if they were old friends instead of acquaintances who merely tolerated each other. I wondered if Wilma had really been planning to run or whether she'd only thought of it now that she knew Eleanor was planning to. The woman definitely had an agenda, I just wasn't sure what that agenda was. Yet.
"I'm sure Mayor Thomas can help you with that," I said to Wilma. "If you decide to run, I mean." I was tired of her lies. "Considering how close the two of you are, he might even be your campaign manager."
"I told you yesterday," Wilma said through gritted teeth, "Mayor Thomas and I don't know each other."
"Oh. Right. Sure." I was being obviously sarcastic now.
"Ava!" snapped Eleanor. "Be nice."
Wilma kept calm. "I don't know why you think I'm lying, but I have not now nor have I ever dated Quinn Thomas. I've only been here a short time. When would I have ever met him before now?"
"I don't know," I said. "Maybe when you were visiting your sister?"
Her smile faltered ever so slightly. "My sister?" she asked, her lips pressed tightly together, which was awkward because she was trying to laugh off my statement. "I don't have a sister."
"Do you mean you've never had one, or you haven't since Anastasia Peacock was murdered?"
Everyone was staring at me now, their mouths open.
Wilma's face darkened. The lines around her eyes grew more detailed as she glared at me.
"Ava," Sheriff Knoxx warned, "be very careful what you're saying here. You don't want to throw around accusations that might hurt someone."
"It's not just an accusation," I told him. "It's the truth."
I dug my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the picture I'd snapped of the letter. "I found this in Wilma's purse last night."
"You went through my purse?!" Wilma squealed, her face growing red.
"Ava, how could you do that? I didn't raise you to be that way," my father yelled.
"Dad, just look at the photo."
I passed my phone to him, and he passed it around the circle. Wilma looked at it, too. Now everyone was looking at her instead of me. Her brow began sweating and she started stammering her words.
"I... I... I don't know..."
&nb
sp; She turned and ran out of the room. Snowball darted out in front of her, tripping her before she could make it to the door. "Ow!" she yelled as she landed with a thud.
We surrounded her, arms crossed. There was no way she was getting out of here until we got some answers.
"What?" she asked, trembling as she got to her feet. "So what if Anastasia was my sister?" She looked desperately toward our front door.
"You mean it's true?" Eleanor asked.
"You lied to us," Trixie said.
"When?" cried Wilma. "None of you ever asked me if Anastasia was my sister, or if Polly Peacock was my niece. Those names have never been brought up to me the entire time I've been here."
"Yeah, but you bought Anastasia's old store and never bothered to tell anyone in town you were related to her," Eleanor said accusingly.
"I'd like an explanation myself," said Sheriff Knoxx. "A lot of things have gone wrong in this town since you got here."
"Now hold on," said Wilma. "You can't think that I have anything to do with this assassin stuff."
"I don't know," Sheriff Knoxx said. "How about you tell us what you know? You can do it down at the station if you'd prefer."
"Certainly not!"
She looked around at us as we circled her.
"Look, I... I may have come to Sweetland with the intent to... make amends for the way my sister and niece have been treated, but I don't know anything about the assassin, I swear it."
"What do you mean 'make amends?'" asked Eleanor.
"I wasn't planning to kill anyone, if that's what you want to know. But a little competition never hurt anyone. You were the only bakery in town; why shouldn't I open my own?"
"Oh, my roses," I said, as understanding hit me. "You came here to put us out of business, didn't you?"
Wilma rolled her shoulders back and stood up straighter. "Yes. So? Is that a crime?"
"No," said Sheriff Knoxx, "but lying about who you are won't make you any friends in this town."
