Seashells, Spells & Caramels: A Cozy Witch Mystery

by Erin Johnson

  “What about Sam and Hank. Any suspicions there?” As Iggy glowed away, heating the oven, the filling began to bubble out the slits on the top crust, a warm, sweet smell emanating from the oven.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. But I’ll keep an eye on them. Oh, actually.” I frowned. For some reason I didn’t want to share the way I’d seen Hank’s face change. But after thinking on it a moment, I decided to. After I’d explained it, Iggy frowned.

  “It could definitely be some kind of mask or facade, though he’d have to be a mighty powerful witch to withstand the magical field. But if the field isn’t looking specifically for disguises….” Iggy shook his head. “I’m positive that Amelia has personally vetted each of you for security reasons.”

  “Unless Amelia’s in on it too,” I hissed.

  Iggy cocked a brow. “That’s a thought. It’d explain why she didn’t promote Pritney and pushed to have this competition. I thought she just wanted to further her career as an events coordinator, but maybe it’s because she wants to place her man on the inside.”

  I nodded. I hated thinking these things about the people I knew, but it was important to consider every possibility. “Well, that just leaves me, and for some reason you trust me.”

  Iggy laughed. “You wear your emotions on your face. No way you’re hiding anything. Besides, like I said, you’re kind.”

  I warmed a little at the compliment.

  “But you’re forgetting someone.”

  “No, I’m not, I—”

  I followed Iggy’s gaze behind me to Maple. She stood behind her station, tidying up and humming her little baking ditty. I laughed and turned to Iggy.

  “Maple? You’re not serious.”

  He held my gaze.

  “Iggy, she didn’t do it. She’s—she’s Maple. She’s quiet, and gentle and sings silly songs—” I paused, thinking about the first one I’d heard her sing about killing a rat. I shook my head. It was just a song, and about a rat, not a person. “She’s my friend.”

  “How well do you really know her?” Iggy blinked at me. “You’ve only known her six days.”

  Had it only been six? In the environment of the competition it felt much longer. We spent practically every minute together.

  I shook my head, still refusing to even consider it. “Why then? Answer me, why would she? Even if she were capable of it, which she absolutely is not, she has no reason, didn’t even know Nan.”

  I froze, chills creeping up my spine.

  “What is it?” Iggy asked.

  My chest tightened. I didn’t want to say. “She… she did mention that her dad tried to get her a job under Nan, and was rejected. Her dad and Glenn had a big rivalry, because Glenn claimed the Earth Kingdom’s Baking Guild was so superior to Water’s. And she’s been telling me how much pressure her dad’s been putting on her to beat him, and I did see snake eggs in her dad’s bakery, which can be a source of venom, but….”

  I looked at my rosy-cheeked friend, smiling and humming and scrubbing dishes, and tried to picture her sneaking snake venom into Glenn’s cake. I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t care what it sounds like, I know, in my gut, the way you know Nan was killed, that Maple had nothing to do with it. And you’ll just have to trust me on that, the way I’m trusting you.”

  Iggy gave a noncommittal raise of his brows.

  “Iggy?”

  He huffed. “Fine.” He retreated to the back of the oven. “This is done, by the way. Let it cool though.”

  With mitts on, I slid the pie out of the oven. The tart, buttery aroma had my mouth watering. The perfectly golden-brown fluted edges bordered a lighter brown center, the four slits on top revealing the juicy, dark red cherry filling.

  As we moved into judging, I felt more confident about my bake than ever. Rhonda’s eyes rolled back in her head when she took a bite, and Francis commented, “The filling looks like blood.” His pupils dilated and his fangs protruded. I took that as a compliment.

  But I felt more uneasy in every other way. Was one of my fellow contestants a murderer? After testing everyone’s bakes, the judges deemed it time for Wool to leave.

  Trembling and with bright pink cheeks, Maple managed to give him a hug and whisper, “I’ll miss you.”

  Wool gave her a long look. “I’ll miss you too, Maple.” He looked up at the five of us who remained. “Best of luck.” He gave Hank a clap on the back. “Take care, man. And all of you, watch your backs.” He shook his head. “Be careful till they find the killer.”

  Though I’d miss Wool, I was happy to have made it through. I dashed back to Iggy to tell him the good news, that the judges had loved our pie, before heading to the big house.

  “Hm. Guess it wasn’t Wool then.”

  I shook my head. “What would be the point in murdering for the job, just to get eliminated? He would have done something underhanded to stay in.”

  I left Iggy with a pile of firewood.

  “Imogen?”

  I paused on my way out.

  “Be careful tonight, okay?”

  I grinned and nodded. “Get some rest.”

  Amelia, Inspector Bon, and his officers escorted us to the house. Our little group had dwindled to just me, Maple, Hank, Pritney, and Sam. Before they left us, Inspector Bon gave us each a hard look. “No one is to leave the house tonight until you’re escorted to the tent in the morning. Understood?”

  I nodded, though in my head I already knew I’d be breaking the rules. On our way to bed later, I pulled Maple into my room and closed the door, listening for a moment to make sure no one stood outside listening.

  Maple gave me a puzzled look. “What’s all this about?”

  I put a finger to my lips and stood close, whispering, “Where’s the forest on the royal grounds?”

  21

  The Forest

  Maple pulled back, frowning. “Why?”

  I told her about my conversation with Iggy and by the end she had tears running down her cheeks. “How sad.”

  “I know, right?” I left out the part about Iggy thinking her capable of murder. “So I want to do something special for him and get those linden branches.”

  Maple nodded. “What a sweet idea.” She pulled her lips to the side. “But I think you can only find them on the royal grounds. It might take a few days, but I can help you get a permit to collect some. We can’t summon them because of the wards around the palace. A permit might be tough with security right now though, so—”

  “Thank you.” I squeezed her shoulder. “But I really want to do something for Iggy. And Nan always gathered them herself. If an elderly lady can do it, I can too.”

  Maple opened her eyes wide. “But… but the inspector forbade it. And you just said yourself that you’re his top suspect. How would that look? Breaking rules and sneaking around the grounds at night, if you could even find a way in. The boundaries are spelled and the gate’s the only entry point, and it’s guarded.”

  I nodded. “I probably won’t be able to get in, but I’m going to try.”

  Maple bit her lip and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Oh, I don’t like this at all.”

  “Please, Maple.” I batted my lashes at her, hands clasped and pleading.

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m coming with.”

  I shook my head vehemently. “Nope. No way. You’d be in big trouble if you were caught.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she pointed a finger at me. “That’s what I just told you!”

  “Yes, but it’s my stupid idea to go in, and I’m not ruining your chances at winning.”

  After another ten minutes of arguing, Maple finally caved when I told her I’d go with or without her help, and wandering around without any idea where to go would be more dangerous than if she just told me.

  “When you enter the gate, you’ll head left into the dense thicket of trees. And there you’ll be, in the forest. Do you even know what a linden branch looks like?”

  When I winced, she hu
ffed and made me get out a blank sheet of paper. She drew a rough map of the circular perimeter of the royal grounds and where the gate sat, along with the palace, the forest, and a quick outline of a tree. She lifted her hands above the paper and sang:

  “Map show me the way,

  Lead me true,

  To linden branches,

  I’ll follow you.”

  “Did you just make that up?”

  “Shh!” She held her eyes closed and a flash of light pulsed from her hands, making the lines she’d drawn glow gold. The lines branched and spread and a much more detailed map appeared before me, with a small drawing of a girl labeled, “Imogen.”

  “Hey, that’s me!” I tapped at it.

  “Good, you can read.”

  “Uh!” I punched her shoulder. “I’m usually the sarcastic one. What’s gotten into you?”

  She flashed her blue eyes at me. “Oh, just concern for my friend’s life. Now follow the map, it’ll tell you where to go once you get inside the gate. If you get inside the gate, which, for the record, I think it’s a huge mistake to even attempt.”

  She folded her arms and stared at the wall.

  I couldn’t help but grin. I picked up the map, threw my arms around her in a big hug from behind, and leaned my cheek on her shoulder. “Duly noted. Thanks, friend.”

  As I made my way out the French doors I looked back at her. She stood hugging herself in the middle of my room, looking miserable. “Be careful, Imogen.”

  “I will.” I shut the door quietly and listened for voices or footsteps, but only crickets chirped, and waves crashed just past the bluff’s edge.

  I snuck along the back of the house and across the field, skirting along the line of cypress trees. I followed the map and found the road to the palace, though I stayed off it, creeping along just inside the tree line to stay hidden. With the house out of sight, I began to question the sanity of my plan.

  I rounded a curve in the road and spotted the gate. Made of elaborately twisting gold, it stood at least twenty feet. Two uniformed guards held their long lances across the gate. That alone should have been enough to stop me, but I froze for another reason.

  A figure crept along the tree line about one hundred feet ahead of me. A dark figure, crouched low. I felt almost certain, from the way they moved, that it was the person I’d seen sneaking across the field before. I glanced down at the dry pine needles and sticks just waiting to snap under my feet, and didn’t dare take another step. Instead, I crouched low and watched.

  The dark figure straightened, blue-green light flashed, and then they stepped out of the shadows onto the road. I could see that it was a man now, tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and as he glanced up and down the road, I had to press my hands to my mouth to stifle my gasp. Hank!

  Or rather, the Hank I saw sometimes, when his dark eyes turned blue, pointed chin grew square, and crooked nose turned straight. My chest grew tight with anxiety. What did it mean? He walked down the road to the gate, in plain view. He spoke a few words to the guards, who smiled and chuckled and—I blinked and leaned forward—bowed. They bowed, deep and low and long, and opened the gate for him. Then closed it behind him, crossing their lances again.

  “What?” I mouthed. “What the what?” I now knew that Hank had access to the royal grounds, which meant the palace, which meant he’d had the opportunity to kill Nan. I now knew he also donned a disguise, though I had no idea which face was the real one. But why would he have killed Glenn?

  A memory floated into my head, of Hank shouting at Glenn, practically growling at him. Glenn, rest his soul, had been incredibly annoying, and no one found him more so than Hank. I didn’t know if all of that added up to murder, but it certainly shot Hank to the top of my suspects list.

  I needed to know where he went once inside the grounds. If I could find some way in. Maybe he’d made a funny joke? Or maybe it’d been his confidence? I thought those highly unlikely, but I had no better ideas, so I decided to do as Hank did.

  I took a shaky breath and stepped out from the tree line onto the road. I pictured Hank. I squared my shoulders like he had, I thought tall, I thought confident. I pictured his blue eyes, big straight nose, and square jaw. I stepped forward, imagining his long strides. Be like Hank, be like Hank, I chanted in my head, like a mantra.

  A strange sort of tingling came over me, head to toe. I looked at my glowing hands and they suddenly appeared bigger, wider, and rougher. I flipped them over and over again. Be like Hank, be like Hank.

  I approached the gates, the guards watching me with puzzled expressions. They turned to each other, then lowered the sharp ends of their lances at me. Uh-oh.

  “But… we just let you in,” the shorter one barked.

  Just let me in? I must look like Hank! I’m doing magic!

  My arms still glowed. A strange sort of spell seemed to come over the guards. They rubbed their glassy eyes and seemed unable to focus.

  Without another word, they stepped aside and opened the gate.

  “Thanks a bunch.”

  Once inside, I ran to the left and hid behind a stone fountain of a fish. I doubled over to catch my breath. “What is happening?” I whispered. I looked at my normal-looking, not glowing hands. “I just did magic.” I murmured the words out loud, then stifled a giddy laugh.

  Me? Magic! I grinned wildly. I couldn’t wait to tell Maple. Though what would I tell her? I had no idea what I’d done, or how I’d done it. My best guess was that I’d somehow used magic to look like Hank and fool the guards. I didn’t have time to ponder it, though, I was on a mission.

  I scanned around and found no sign of Hank, just a wide grassy lawn stretching out in front of me. A white gravel driveway divided the lawn in two and led straight to a white palace that glowed in the moonlight.

  Though disappointed that I’d lost Hank, I could still get Iggy his branches. If someone didn’t spot me first.

  I followed the map to the edge of the trees, the little drawing version of me dashing across the royal lawn. I had to duck behind shrubbery when a patrolling guard passed by. Then I ran on. When I reached the tree line, I suddenly wished I’d brought a flashlight, or a cell phone or something.

  Oh right, I didn’t have a phone anymore. At least the moon shone fairly bright in a cloudless sky.

  I picked my way through the forest, the trees crowding closer together. I stumbled over thick roots and ducked under low-hanging branches. An owl hooted to my right, and at one point I bumped into a dead, hollow tree, which sent a cloud of screeching black bats flapping out.

  Thank goodness Maple had given me the map. I’d have no idea how to get back out without it.

  I found my way to the linden tree marked on the map and plopped down on a stump to catch my breath. I sat still for several moments, lost deep in thought about Iggy and Nan and all the events of the day.

  A sharp crack snapped me out of it. Then came another and another. Someone, or something, prowled through the forest. I froze, holding my breath.

  This was a stupid, stupid idea to come sneaking into the woods by myself. Why did no one warn me?

  I hunkered low on the stump, trying to hide, but the movement attracted the thing. It turned and for just a moment, it stood outlined in the dappled light of the moon shining through the thick trees.

  Sam?

  Sam, the sweet man with the lisp blinked his milky blue eyes at me, and suddenly disappeared. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision. I’d heard nothing, and in the undergrowth of the forest it was impossible not to make noise. So where’d he gone? Had he even been there in the first place, or had that been some trick of the forest? Or maybe some trick of my weary eyes.

  I let out a shaky breath as quietly as I could and stood on trembling legs. I crept over to the spot where I thought I’d seen Sam. Leaves rustled underfoot. I leaned closer for a better look—then screamed!

  “Ahhh!” I lurched backward as a four-foot-long snake slithered past, stopping for a mome
nt to look back at me, its forked tongue flicking the air. I scooped up an armful of fallen branches and ran out of the forest.

  How in the world did an old lady do this every day? Nan definitely didn’t die of any heart attack if she could manage that.

  When I reached the gate, I cleared my throat and the guards let me out, barely glancing my way. Getting out was much easier than getting in.

  Once back at the house, I snuck in through the French doors, dropped the logs, and knocked on the shared wall. Maple tapped at my door moments later and threw her arms around me. When she pulled back and saw the pile of logs on the floor, she gaped.

  “Tell me everything.”

  22

  A Shift

  I could barely make it through breakfast, I felt so on edge. Every time Hank, sitting next to me, took a bite of his toast or told me he liked my shoes, I jumped. Could I be sitting next to a murderer?

  I knew he donned some kind of magical disguise, and he’d been angry with Glenn. He’d snuck into the royal grounds and would have had the chance to kill Nan. But why? Did he just want the job of royal baker so badly? Could Iggy be right that he was a member of the Badlands Army and had dastardly plans in store for the royal family?

  And what about Sam? He sat apart, avoiding my eyes. Had he been in the woods last night, or was it some kind of magical illusion? How’d he disappear, and if it was him, why was he in the forest at night and how? He too could’ve killed both Nan and Glenn. But I still didn’t know how either of them could have smuggled snake venom into the tent.

  I’d told Maple everything, and she was playing it even less cool than me. When Hank lifted a hand to summon the salt, she screamed, then turned bright red and stared at her plate.

  When Amelia came to collect us, dark bags pooled under her eyes. “Inspector Bon and the police are waiting for us at the tent.” She swallowed. “They have a special announcement to make—apparently there’s been some break in the case.”