by Emma Belmont
“So that means you like Eugene?” Maris asked.
“And his daughter,” Vera declared. “Goodness, what a cook!”
Maris regarded Eunice. “And your phone that went missing?”
The thin woman shrugged. “That was a lie. No one took it.”
Maris’s mouth dropped open a little. They’d lied to her?
“If anyone was going to figure it out,” Millicent said, “we knew it’d be you.” Heads bobbed all around the circle. “A little misdirection was in order.”
“Right,” Maris said quietly. “Right.”
She’d already figured out the missing blues album. Watching a musician who needed to protect his hands, but who had then worked on his car’s engine, hadn’t made sense. Nor did his bling match the way he’d wolfed down the lunch that Mac had bought, or the way that the wine and cheese was clearly dinner. He’d taken the album, likely for its value, but had then returned it.
“We got a little behind this year,” Millicent said. “So we decided to use the festival as cover. It only made sense that, with the town swamped with tourists, that the thefts could be attributed to them.”
Maris gazed at the faces all around her. “Got behind on what? On stealing?” She paused and thought for a moment. “And why are you all stealing these things in the first place?” It felt as though she’d wandered into a kleptomania club, or maybe an alternate universe.
All eyes went to Millicent, who said, “Perhaps you’d like to join us this evening, just past sunset.”
More looks were exchanged, but also grins.
Maris’s brows knit together but she smiled. “Um, I’d be delighted. Here?”
Millicent nodded. “Yes, here, just after sunset. Make sure to dress warm.” She and the other ladies returned to their crocheting. Then the club president added, “And bring something from the B&B.” She gave Maris a little wink. “Something you wouldn’t mind losing.”
31
Just after sunset, Maris returned to Millicent’s home, only to find the group assembled in front. After the hectic days of the festival, the plaza seemed particularly empty but also quite peaceful. The ladies were all wearing sweaters, as was Maris. She’d also made sure to bring the tiny potted plant with her. Although Cookie had no more idea what the crochet club had planned, they both felt that the little bunch of sage from the herb garden would not only be fragrant, but encompass the soothing and calming effect that they hoped their hospitality had on their guests.
As Maris joined them on the sidewalk, they looked at what she’d brought.
“Perfect,” Millicent declared. “Shall we go?”
Maris glanced around at them. “Go where?”
Zarina took her by the elbow. “Not far. You’ll see.”
The six of them piled into two cars, Zarina and Vera driving. Maris decided to simply wait and see what was happening and where they were going. But when they exited Pixie Point Bay and headed east, she hazarded a guess. They were headed toward the redwoods. Millicent had told her to dress warmly, and now she was glad she’d done exactly that. In just thirty minutes, they were at the entrance to a trailhead.
As Zarina parked the car, she said, “It’s just a twenty minute walk from here.” She reached into the glove compartment and took out two small flashlights. “You’ll need this later,” she said, handing one to Maris.
“Thanks,” Maris said, and the two of them got out and joined the others.
As on the drive over, there was no chit chat. Though the mood wasn’t somber or strained in the least, Maris sensed some underlying reason for the quiet. But as they made their way along the path in the growing darkness, the group finally seemed to have arrived somewhere. One by one they stepped over the low stones that lined the dirt path, and went into the trees. Zarina motioned for Maris to precede her.
Only a few dozen yards from the path, they entered a clearing. Looking back, Maris could no longer see the official trail, let alone the parking lot. One by one the ladies all gathered around what looked like a small teepee of wood logs. Maris realized with a start, that it was the makings of a fire, and recalled her precognitive vision.
Millicent pointed at the wood. “You can put your plant in there.”
When Maris stepped forward with it, she got a whiff of gasoline and then saw some familiar objects among the logs. The crystal ball was there, along with Bear’s jar of honey, and a menu from the smokehouse. In fact, there had to be dozens of objects, most of them small. The club had to have been collecting them for some time. She wedged the small pot in between a couple of the logs.
As she returned to her place in the circle, she recalled the tarot card, the five of pentacles, and gazed at the five other women. Mojo had been right again.
“Good,” Millicent said. “You’ll want to keep back.” She turned to Eunice. “Would you do the honors?”
The thin older lady stepped forward, bent over the pile of wood, and reached her hand to it. Tiny, multi-colored flames leapt from her fingers and landed on the gasoline soaked wood. The fire began immediately.
Eunice stepped back and Maris worried for a moment that these ladies might not know what they were doing, lighting a fire among the trees. Yet everything about the moment seemed, not only natural, but something well rehearsed—or at least done many times.
“This is the Five-Fold Blessing,” Millicent said to her. “We’ll call upon all the elements, and offer up our many gathered prizes, as we entreat them to bless Pixie Point Bay for another year.”
“Five-fold,” Maris repeated, thinking back to the Ouija board.
Without prompting, Eunice turned to the east and raised her hands.
“Element of fire, accept our offerings,
Gathered with love for your safekeeping,
Keep our community safe and well,
And we shall not forget to count our blessings.”
Helen was next, as she turned to the south. “Element of earth, accept our offerings, Gathered with love for your safekeeping, Keep our community safe and well, And we shall not forget to count our blessings.”
Zarina made the same entreaty to gravity, facing west, and Vera entreated air to the north.
Maris listened to each one in turn as the flickering flames lit their faces. The gentle light smoothed out the deep wrinkles and melted away the years. As the scent of woodsmoke wafted around them, the fire quietly crackled.
Finally Millicent raised her hands to the sky. “Element of aether, accept our offerings, Gathered with love for your safekeeping, Keep our community safe and well, And we shall not forget to count our blessings.”
As the last of her words faded, and the embers of the fire slowly rose, silence descended on the group. A deep feeling of peace settled over Maris, and for a moment she thought she could smell the sage. The centuries old trees that soared all around them, seemed to be keeping a silent watch. Above them, barely visible through the canopy, a few stars had managed to peek through.
She thought of the town, all the businesses, and all her friends. How lucky she was to have found her home here. As she gazed around at the smiling faces, she couldn’t help but nod to herself. She too would remember to count her blessings, and not just once a year.
Sneak Peek
The Witch Who Saw a Murder
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
Maris carried the blanket, Bear carried the basket, and Cookie brought the thermoses. Though the Towne Plaza was enormous, it was starting to look like the beach in summer, with colorful ground coverings and coolers everywhere.
“Goodness,” Maris said. “I didn’t realize Pixie Point Bay Picnic Day was going to be so popular.”
“They always are,” Cookie said, smiling and looking around. Her bright floral dress matched the surroundings perfectly. “I haven’t been to one of these in years.”
It wasn’t often that Ruth “Cookie” Calderon came to town at all. The B&B’s chef always said that she preferred home—particularly her kitchen and ga
rden—to just about anywhere.
Picnic Day, however, was an exception.
“How about here?” Maris asked her companions. She came to a stop and surveyed the neatly trimmed patch of grass about midway to the Oriental gazebo.
“Fine by me,” the diminutive chef said, looking at her, and then up at Bear.
Their outsized handyman grinned at her. “Looks good.”
He easily stood two heads above them and carried the heavily laden picnic basket as though it was a lunchbox. His neatly trimmed beard didn’t hide his smile. Nor did his bib overalls hide a burgeoning paunch at the midriff.
“Great,” Maris said, and unfurled the checkered blanket.
“Is that the new pizzeria?” Cookie asked, looking in its direction.
Located in a building that was even narrower than the medical clinic, wedged between Castaways and Superior Hardware, was the newest establishment in town: Pizza del Popolo.
Maris glanced in that direction as she continued to spread out the blanket. “That’s the one,” she confirmed.
Cookie nodded. “It’s about time.”
Bear sniffed the air. “I can smell it.” He arched his heavy brows. “It smells good.”
Satisfied with the blanket, Maris gazed in the pizzeria’s direction. “I’m happy to say it tastes good too.” Bear swiveled his head back to her. “He’s having his soft opening this week, and I was invited for a sample.” She grinned at him. “It’s good to be the owner of the Pixie Point Bay Lighthouse and B&B.”
Not only was it her job to ensure the comfort of her guests, but they often asked for restaurant recommendations. She regularly sampled new menu offerings, even at places she’d eaten many times.
“Shall we have a seat?” Cookie said. As she sat down on the blanket, Bear placed the basket next to her. “Thank you, Bear.”
Maris paused to scan the area. “Oh, there he is,” she said, and waved.
Mac saw her, waved back, and headed their way. She watched him stride over. It always pleased her to see him dressed in something other than his uniform. Six feet tall and athletically built, Sheriff McKenna of Medio County had the kind of rugged good looks that made hearts flutter. His gray eyes and matching salt and pepper hair only added to his charm.
She held out her hands to him as he approached. He took them and leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Maris said.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he replied before pulling away and looking down at her. “You look lovely.”
She’d made sure to wear the most flattering skirt and blouse that she owned, and had taken extra time with her hair. Despite having aimed for exactly that compliment, heat rose to her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Mac nodded to the chef. “Cookie. It’s good to see you.”
Cookie had opened the basket, but paused, smiling as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “Nice to see you too, Sheriff.”
He reached across Maris and offered his hand to Bear. “Good morning, Bear. How’s it going?”
“Very well, Mac,” he said, shaking the sheriff’s hand. “And you?”
Mac grinned at him, and then at Maris. “Never better.”
Bear gave him a little nod as he nimbly descended into a cross-legged position, facing Cookie. Not as light as the chef nor as young as their handyman, Maris took her time getting to the ground, with a helping hand from Mac. Since arriving back in Pixie Point Bay she felt more healthy than she had in decades. With her weight steadily if slowly dropping, she expected that her cholesterol would be getting to a good range too. But it didn’t mean she was any more limber. When she finally sat down, Mac joined her, and Cookie started to unpack the basket.
“Maris, would you pour the tea please?” She handed her the plastic mugs, and then a thermos.
“My pleasure,” Maris said. She’d just been unscrewing the plastic top when a voice assailed her from behind.
“Maris,” he said. “Ciao, Bella!”
Before she turned her head, she had to smile. “Massimo,” she said, seeing him approach. “Oh!” she exclaimed. He was barreling toward them with a stack of pizza boxes in his arms.
In his early fifties, the owner of the new pizzeria wasn’t particularly a big man but he’d impressed Maris as ‘solid.’ The hint of a beard at the jaw line and his short mustache were only flecked with gray. But his hair—shaved close at the sides and combed back on top—was a lustrous chestnut brown. The short haircut emphasized the one cauliflower ear, and Maris had previously noticed his bent nose.
As he reached the blanket, he quickly crouched and set down the pizzas. Kneeling next to her, he leaned closer for an air kiss on one cheek, then the other.
“How wonderful to see you,” he said. Without waiting for introductions, he extended a hand to Cookie. “I am Massimo Cuore, but please call me Max.”
She smiled at him as they shook. “Cookie Calderon.”
He paused, his mouth open in shock as he glanced at Maris. “The chef?” Maris smiled and nodded. He took Cookie’s hand in both of his and gave her a little bow. “It is an honor to finally meet you. I have heard about you…everywhere.”
“Oh, well,” Cookie said, her face flushing pink. “That’s very kind.” She glanced down at their hands, looking more flustered than Maris had ever seen the older woman.
“Oh, pardon!” he said, and let her hand go. “I am in disbelief that I am actually meeting you.”
When the diminutive chef seemed lost for words, Maris said, “And this is Sheriff Daniel McKenna.”
Mac shook the chef’s hand. “We’ve actually already met,” the sheriff said. “Good to see you.”
“You’ve met?” Maris asked.
Max nodded. “At the County Recorders office.” He grinned at Mac. “I was lost but luckily the sheriff found me.”
It was no wonder that the crows feet at the corners of Max’s dark eyes were deep because, as always, his smile was enormous. As usual he wore a traditional white chef’s shirt, but modified with a stripe of bright green running down one side of his chest, and a stripe of red down the other.
“And may I introduce Bear Orsino.” She gestured to the big man. “The world’s most accomplished handyman.”
Max thrust his hand forward, peering into Bear’s face. “Orsino? From the old country?”
Bear took the man’s hand. “Abruzzo. My grandfather.”
Max slapped his other hand over Bear’s enormous one and shook it vigorously. “Ho, compagno!” he exclaimed, beaming. “My family too. Maybe near Matelica?”
Bear shook his head but grinned. “Pioraco.”
“Oh, the mountains!” He regarded the young man. “Fitting. Very fitting.”
“Massimo,” Maris said. “Would you–”
“Please call me Max,” he said, putting on a hurt look. “We are friends, are we not?”
Maris laughed a little. “Max,” she started again, “would you like to join us?”
He put a hand over his heart as he sat back on his heels. “I am honored. Truly.” Then he reached to the boxes of pizza, took one, and handed it to her. “But I am on my tour of the plaza. Free pizza for everyone.”
Maris cocked her head back as she accepted it. “Free pizza?”
Cookie added, “For everyone?” She gazed around at the plaza.
“Yes,” he said, nodding. Then he stood. “So I best go on my way.” He took them all in with a fond look. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
Maris opened the box top and took a peek. The beautiful smell of the tomato sauce and fresh crust immediately wafted up.
“A seafood pizza?” she said, as Max bent and picked up the rest of the boxes.
He grinned down at her. “When in Roma, eh?” Then he was off, heading toward the next blanket. “Ciao, amici!”
“Look at that,” Cookie said, gazing down into the box with awe in her voice. “Are those scallops?”
“And baby shrimp and crab meat,” Mac said noddi
ng.
“I can smell the garlic,” Bear said.
Maris was about to set the box down so they could all take a slice, but then she remembered the basket. Cookie had spent the morning getting their picnic ready.
When the chef noticed her gaze, she closed and patted its wicker top. “It’ll keep.” Then she eyed the pizza. “Let’s give this a try.”
Maris quickly set the box down and they each took a slice. Bear folded his piece and was the first to take a bite. “Mmm hmm,” he murmured.
Maris had already sampled Max’s triple mushroom pizza earlier in the week. But as she took her first bite, she knew immediately that this was completely different. He’d changed the tomato sauce to compliment the seafood—just a tad on the zesty side.
Mac nodded as he chewed. He gave Maris the thumbs up sign.
Cookie was next. As the chef sampled her slice, Maris saw the gears turning behind the dark and glittering eyes. She covered her mouth as she said, “Oh, that is good.” She looked down at her slice, analyzing it. “Asiago instead of Parmesan. Very nice choice. It’s–”
“Pig!” said a woman’s shrill voice. “Chauvinist pig!”
Not ten yards away, a woman was shaking her fist at someone.
“Who is that?” Maris asked. She didn’t recognize either of them.
“Rudy Schmid,” Bear said.
“The owner of Superior Hardware,” Cookie said, glaring at him with distaste. She peered at the pair a while longer before returning to her pizza. “I don’t know the woman.”
The tall man standing in front of her, on what was presumably his blanket, had his arms folded over his chest and was laughing. He shook his head and said something Maris couldn’t make out. The woman was so angry that she was shaking.
Maris looked back at Bear and Cookie, who were eating their pizza, making her frown. “Wait a minute,” she said, reluctantly setting her slice down, just as Mac did. “That woman just called him a pig, and is obviously livid. Am I the only one bothered about it?”
