by Cindy Stark
“Sure thing, boss.” Gretta snickered.
Finally, Hazel gave in and laughed. “Have fun with your fantasies. I’m going home.”
The butterflies that had started when Peter had called increased with each pedal of her bike as she flew past the police station and continued down Main until she reached Vine Street, and then turned the corner onto Hemlock.
He stood, leaning against his car, looking amazing in jeans and boots. Her heart squeezed before thundering in her chest.
He smiled but said nothing as she passed him and headed toward the house, but she didn’t miss the twinkle of interest burning in his eyes.
Her heart didn’t stand a chance against him. Her only hope was that her brain could maintain control. She absolutely, one-hundred percent, could not let down her guard when she was around him. He liked the person he thought she was, she reminded herself for the millionth time.
Not who she really was.
She left her bike hidden behind the bushes and met him where the trees thickened into woods.
“Need my help again solving something?” she asked in a teasing voice.
He smiled, and the warmth of it shot straight into her soul. “I thought you might want to hear how Florence is doing.”
She turned to him with a hopeful gaze. “Yes. Tell me.”
“They have her under guard at an assisted living home in Boston for now until her sentencing. Sounds like the prosecution isn’t interested in pressing full charges. I’d say it’s not likely she’ll come home anytime soon, but I was assured that they’ll take pity on her and wherever she spends her time will likely be comfortable. Maybe a psych ward instead of jail.”
That brought her a small measure of peace. Hazel knew her friend had to pay a penance for what she’d done, but she’d hoped the authorities would take her circumstances into consideration. “When you find out where she’ll end up, will you let me know? I’d like to visit her. Take some tea if they’ll let me.”
“You betcha.”
She grinned at his corny choice of words. “Hey, I wanted to tell you, too. I received an anonymous postcard, but I’m sure it’s from Rachel. All it said was thanks and doing good.”
Peter nodded. “Hopefully, she’ll hear about Florence’s arrest on the news and know that she’s free from worry.”
“I really hope so. She didn’t deserve how people treated her.”
“Yeah. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and act accordingly, but it was hard for her to see that in a town like this where others are not so forgiving.”
She raised her brows and released a sigh, agreeing with his assessment.
He nudged her with his elbow. “On a happier note, I actually did have another case you might help me with.”
“Oh, yeah? Not another murder, I hope.”
“Nah, just a small mystery I’d like to solve. If you don’t mind walking a bit, I’d like to pick that smart brain of yours.”
“It is pretty smart,” she teased. “But don’t keep me out too late. The sun’s going down, and it’s already getting chilly.”
“Deal,” he said as their boots crunched the pinecones and twigs beneath their feet.
Warm fingers encircled hers, catching her off guard, sending her heart into a spiral. Sparks of electricity pierced her skin and warmed her entire body. Unsure what to do, she kept her gaze on the path ahead and tried to remember to breathe.
She should probably pull her hand from his, but she couldn’t.
“This okay?” he asked after a few seconds.
Her brain screamed no, but her heart had control now. “Yes,” she said quietly, and her emotions danced for joy.
He gave her hand a quick squeeze, drawing a smile to her lips. She might burn for this tomorrow, but right now, she didn’t care.
When they were seated once again on a bench at the edge of the clearing, he turned to her. “Here’s my dilemma. You tell me if you can figure out a way to solve it.”
“Okay.” She grinned. She’d always loved reading thrillers and playing mystery games. She was beginning to enjoy helping this man protect a town she’d grown to love. It gave her life purpose, and she knew she wanted to make this place her home.
If only she could know the people here would always love her the same. “Tell me.”
He began giving her the details of someone in town who’d been deflating tires on seemingly random cars, and she found herself watching his lips as he talked. She doubted he needed her help on such a small case, but she liked that he’d used it as an excuse to see her.
There was much more she wanted to learn about her family’s history, about Clarabelle and her book of spells. Perhaps even about Peter. She needed to figure out a way to access the special books at the library without creating suspicion, and she wanted to delve further into the incredible magic she’d discovered at the sacred grove.
In the meantime, she’d make sure she didn’t fall into the same trap that had taken her ancestral grandmother from this earth. She’d watch her back, maintain her cover, and enjoy this beautiful town and all it had to offer.
Despite the dangers of living in Stonebridge, she admitted she wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. As much as she didn’t belong, she knew in her heart she was right where she needed to be.
For now.
****
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Thank you and happy reading,
Cindy
Excerpt from TWICE HEXED
Teas and Temptations Cozy Mystery Series
Book Two
Hazel Hardy hugged her jacket tighter around her as she hurried from her teashop along the cobblestone sidewalk of Main Street, small town Stonebridge, Massachusetts, to the cozy café down the block. The quaint town had enjoyed a very mild March, but as the month drew to a close, it seemed the Blessed Mother had changed her mind.
Ominous metal-gray clouds and a blustery wind warned of the high possibility of drenching rain. The weatherman said it would arrive some time that afternoon, which was why she’d decided to run to Cora’s Café to make her delivery before the worst of the Nor’easter hit.
She neared the café door and caught a glimpse of a small sign tucked against the front window. It stated they proudly served Hazel’s handcrafted teas, and she smiled. Her new partnership with Cora was working out very well. The town had accepted her as one of their own and many had gone out of their way to support her and her budding business.
If they knew the truth, that this same town had once persecuted her ancestral grandmother for being a witch, things would be much different. To this day, many of the prominent families in Stonebridge still feared and despised witches. If they discovered Hazel’s identity, they’d likely run her out of town…or worse.
At least according to the police chief. And she had no reason to believe Chief Peter Parrish would exaggerate or lie.
Hazel gripped the café’s doorknob and pulled, struggling to open the door against the strong winds. When she managed to get inside, the door pushed closed behind her as though warning her to take shelter and not leave until the storm had passed.
A few of the long-time residents sat in the old-fashioned eatery, enjoying the fried ham and scrambled egg special Cora always served on Tuesdays. A touch of cinnamon clung to the coffee-stained air, making her stomach growl.
“You had breakfast,” she mumbled in return.
“Hazel,” Cora called out from behind the counter and tucked a pencil into her blond, messy bun. Her smile was warm and welcoming as always, and it deepened the smile creases in her cheeks. By the time Cora was an old lady, the creases would likely be permanent wrinkles, but she’d be beautiful anyway.
Her friend deserted her spot behind the counter and approached. “You didn’t have to come today. Not with th
e Witches’ Wrath about to hit.”
Hazel shrugged and pointed at the more-hardy citizens of Stonebridge. “If they’re not worried, I’m not.”
She hadn’t experienced one of the town’s epic storms yet, but she’d read about them in a book on the town’s history that she’d borrowed from the library. Hazel wasn’t sure if she believed what the author had written, but she claimed several of The Named, including Hazel’s grandmother, had created the mother of all storms back in sixteen-ninety-something to punish the town during Ostara, the Spring Equinox.
The crazy storms had been happening this time of year ever since.
“The winds will knock over a few trees.” The middle-aged Dotty Fingleton piped up from her seat in a nearby booth that she shared with her sister, June, and her teenaged daughter, Sophie. The family’s tree had roots growing back to a wealthy ship merchant who helped settle the town. “Then it’ll dump some snow and be done, Cora. Same as always. I doubt it will be a big deal.”
Before Hazel had learned otherwise, she never would have guessed Dotty and June were sisters. Dotty wore her bleached blond hair piled on top of her head giving her a sexy but disheveled look, and she preferred a younger-style of clothing.
June, on the other hand, embraced her age as far as clothing went. She kept her hair dyed red and closely cropped.
Dotty’s daughter, Sophie, was a spitting image of her mother, thirty years younger, and probably just as much sass as her mother had had at that age.
Cora wiggled her pointer finger in contradiction. “Not a big deal? You’re forgetting that one year when we got three feet of snow and it knocked the power out. We couldn’t do anything for five days.”
June nodded in agreement with Cora. “She’s right. We all should be tucked safe in our homes long before two o’clock when they predict the storm will make a direct hit. I know I will be.”
Dotty’s daughter rolled her eyes, obviously used to her mother and aunt arguing.
“Whatever happened to your adventurous spirit?” Dotty asked as she lifted her coffee cup. “You’ve let old age steal it from you like we promised we never would.”
June snorted and waved off her dig. “Oh, go eat worms. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hazel held back her grin, still not used to the old-fashioned, quirky phrases that many of the town’s residents tossed out from time to time. Chief Parrish, the nightly star in her dreams and daily pain in her butt was one of the worst offenders. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but sometimes those silly, odd words found their way straight to her heart.
Hazel lifted the large shopping bag, boasting her teashop’s logo on the front, and set it on the counter. “Four large tins of Majestic Mint and another two of spiced chai.”
Cora’s eyes widened in excitement. “I hope this isn’t eating into the customers who come into your store for tea and a chat.”
Hazel shrugged and sent her a warm smile. “Not at all. Besides, as long as they’re drinking my tea, I don’t care where they’re getting it.”
“Spoken like a true businesswoman.” Cora slipped around the side of the counter and tucked the tins below it. When she straightened, she had a small brown bakery box in her hands. “I’ve had another idea, too.”
The contents of the box piqued her interest. “What do you have there?”
“Cookies,” Cora said with enthusiasm shining in her eyes. “I wondered if you’d place these complimentary cookies in your shop. I had a few of these business cards printed that you could sit next to them. I hope to attract more of the summer visitors.”
Hazel glanced at the cards that stated if they visited Cora’s Café and presented the card, they could get another free one to take home for later, plus ten-percent off their café bill.
“That’s so smart. One taste of your chocolate chip or snickerdoodle cookies, and you know they’ll be in here begging for at least a dozen more. They’ll probably stay for lunch or dinner, too.”
Cora beamed. “That’s what I’m hoping. I really need to cash in on the tourist season to keep my bottom line out of the red. Last year’s sales weren’t so great.”
“Really?” She’d be so sad if Cora went out of business because she couldn’t make ends meet, and she vowed to eat there more often.
The sound of a loud crash coming from outside snatched their attention.
June stood so she could see out the window. “There goes Elmer’s sign, tumbling down the street.”
Hazel’s anxiety kicked up a notch. “Hope that doesn’t happen to my store.”
“Me, too. But at this point, all we can do is hope for the best and ride out the storm.” She gave Hazel a carefree shrug. “Besides, Elmer’s sign was barely hanging up as it was.”
True. As soon as she left the café, she’d ask the Blessed Mother to protect them all.
With her worries slightly eased, another idea popped into Hazel’s mind. “What if you bake cookies and brownies for me to sell in my shop? We can still do the complimentary cookie, but this way might catch those who don’t intend to stay long enough to eat. Also, it will allow me to live up to the temptation part of Hazel’s Teas and Temptations. Packaged cookies don’t create frenzied desire like your cherry macaroons.”
She ought to know. She’d eaten enough of them over the past few months.
Cora drew her brows together in thought as though she was working out the logistics of it. “I think that might actually work…”
Then Cora’s face brightened. “Thanks, Hazel. You’re the best. Have I mentioned that I’m super glad you moved here?”
“Only a thousand times, but I don’t mind. I’m glad to be here, too.”
She would continue to be happy as long as no one in town learned of the witch blood flowing through her veins. If they believed Hazel was what they termed a normal person, they’d be quite content to let her stay.
She shuddered to think of what might happen if anyone found out otherwise.
“So…” Cora said, dragging out the word. “How’s Peter?”
Hazel wanted to groan in frustration, but that might encourage Cora’s interest in her so-called love life. Instead, she pasted an innocent look on her face and leaned against the café’s counter. “Chief Parrish? I don’t know. Did something happen to him?”
“No.” Cora’s gaze turned sly. “I heard you two were dating.”
She snorted. “Uh, that would be a negative. We are definitely not dating.”
Not that she hadn’t dreamt of it, but dating the town’s chief who despised witches could only end in disaster. She’d caved to her emotions and held his hand one time, and now, she couldn’t forget the feel of him. Dating would only make that worse.
The front door opened and slammed shut again, bringing with it a cold whip of blustery air.
Hazel, along with everyone else in the café, turned to the stranger who’d walked through the door. He unwound the scarf from his head to reveal a middle-aged, round face. A thick layer of scruff covered his chin, and he looked like he hadn’t showered or combed his hair for days.
“Welcome to Cora’s Café,” Cora called. “Have a seat, and I’ll be with you in a minute.”
He lifted his chin in appreciation and smiled as he approached the counter. “Actually, I’m not in town for long. A coffee to go would be great. Throw in a muffin if you have one.”
“You’re planning to drive out of town right away?” Cora shot a glance at the clock over her shoulder. “You do realize you’ve picked a heck of a day to visit our little town. A big storm is looming on the horizon.”
One of the older men sitting at the counter swiveled his gaze around, his bright blue eyes a contrast to his sallow and wrinkled skin. “Ought to listen to the lady,” he warned.
Cora smiled at the older man before returning her gaze to the stranger. “You might reconsider renting a room at the motel because you’ll likely be stuck here overnight.”
“I’ve got four-wheel drive,” the stranger s
aid, his Jersey accent strong. “I’ll be fine. Besides, my business here won’t take long, and then I’ll be back on the road.”
Cora poured coffee in a to-go container. “Trust me. Unless you’re prepared to be stranded on the road for a couple of days, you should get a room. You won’t regret it.”
He nodded but didn’t verbalize his agreement, and Hazel suspected he wasn’t a man who listened to reason. “I’m looking for Dotty Fingleton. I stopped by her house, and her housekeeper said I could find her here.”
Dotty rotated her frosted-blond head around until she was looking at them over the back of her booth. “I’m Dotty Fingleton. Why would you be looking for me?”
The man cleared his throat and strode forward. The card he dug from his pocket and presented to her looked like it had ridden around in his jeans for quite some time. “Arnie James. Antique dealer out of Boston. I have a client who wanted me to contact you to see if you’d be interested in selling the King’s Pearls.”
Dotty dropped the card on the table and brought a hand to her throat. “The pearls? How could someone even know that I have them?”
“I can’t discuss the details, but I’ll just say I’m very good at what I do.”
“Good at accosting women in public so you can take their jewels?” Her voice had risen several octaves.
“Dotty,” her sister cautioned. “Don’t let him upset you. The poor man hasn’t accosted you. He only asked a question.”
“Yeah, Mom,” Sophie added, flicking her gaze between her mother and the man. “You don’t have to freak out.”
Dotty focused on her sister for a long moment and then released a large exhale. “Who exactly is this client who knows about my necklace?”
The stranger snorted. “Forgive me for saying so, but the location of the pearls given to your family by King William all those years ago isn’t exactly black ops intelligence.” The man puffed out his chest as he inhaled. “Specialized research led me in the right direction, followed by a few well-placed phone calls.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Dotty’s voice had regained its nervous quality. “Who is your client?”
