Spelling Mistake (The Kitchen Witch Book 4)

by Morgana Best

  “The outside says Nightfilled Witch Supply Shop,” Kayleen said, leaning over me and jabbing her stubby finger at the package.

  “But it doesn’t say what’s inside the package. It’s illegal to open people’s mail, Kayleen.”

  Kayleen smirked at me. “Well, what are you going to do about it, Amelia? Australia Post gets complaints like that all the time. They won’t do anything about it. Trust me, I know.” Her eyes narrowed into slits.

  I was furious. “We’ve spoken about this before, Kayleen. You say that I’m a witch, so do you think it’s wise to be so nasty to a witch?”

  Kayleen hesitated. “What are you going to do about it then, Miss Smarty Pants?” Her belligerent manner had, however, lost some of its sting.

  “I’ve already told you that I’ll turn you into a toad.” It was the best I could come up with, and the last time I’d said that to her, she had seemed somewhat frightened.

  “Craig says it’s impossible to turn someone into a toad. Anyway, you’re just jealous that I’m dating Craig. You wanted him for yourself. Keep your hands off him. He’s all mine!”

  I shook my head. “You can have him.” Just then, out of my peripheral vision, I saw Camino heading for Kayleen. I figured she must be expecting a package. Camino was dressed in her cane toad onesie. It couldn’t be more perfect.

  “Yes, Kayleen, you’re right. I am a witch, and I will turn you into a toad. I’ve been practicing. My neighbor annoyed me, so I turned her into a toad.”

  Kayleen snorted. “Oh Amelia, you’re so full of…” She stopped speaking when she saw Camino, a.k.a. a giant cane toad, hopping quickly down toward her.

  Kayleen threw her arms in the air, let out a bloodcurdling scream, and sprinted for her van. Within seconds, she was out of sight. I had no idea that old van could go so fast.

  Camino lifted off her cane toad head. “Oh no, I was expecting a package today. I was hoping to catch that dreadful woman, because she always cards me.”

  After that scene with Kayleen, I had five cups of coffee before I headed for the store. Kayleen had shaken me up, but I don’t know why I thought coffee would help. I was wide awake, but not at all calm. I figured things were about to get worse when I saw Sergeant Tinsdell and Constable Dawson waiting for me at the front door of my store.

  I saw at once that Tinsdell looked a bit sheepish, not his usual self. “Can we speak to you, Miss Spelled?”

  “Sure.” I unlocked the door, and they followed me inside the shop.

  “Is Miss Thyme working here today?” Constable Dawson asked, a little too eagerly.

  “Yes, she’ll be here in about five minutes or so,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

  Tinsdell shuffled from one foot to another. “We’re obliged to follow up all complaints.”

  I nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

  “Someone has lodged a complaint against you. She said you threatened her.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Kayleen! Threatened her with what, exactly?”

  Sergeant Tinsdell looked over in the direction of the lemon cheesecake cupcakes. “Um, she said you threatened to turn her into a toad.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Yes, I did. I’m sure that’s not against the law, is it?” I said through gritted teeth. “She brought a package to my house, despite the fact I have a Post Office Box and she accused me of being a witch. I can’t believe you actually came here over this.”

  Tinsdell had the grace to look embarrassed. “Like I said, Miss Spelled, we have to follow up all claims of threats, no matter how, um, far-fetched those threats might be.”

  “And don’t forget, Craig and Kayleen were in the shop with the victim when I left to go to the kitchen. I wasn’t gone long at all, and when I came back, Scott Plank was lying strangled on the ground. I didn’t see anyone else around.”

  “Yes, Miss Spelled. That’s a matter of record. Are you saying you believe those two murdered him?”

  I shook my head. “I actually don’t have a clue who murdered him. I’m just saying that I think it’s strange that the three of them were in the shop together; I left for a short time, and when I came back, they were missing and he was dead. I told the detectives that. It’s all in my statement.”

  “Well, thanks for your help, Miss Spelled.” With that, Tinsdell headed for the door, followed by Constable Dawson who was looking around him hopefully, no doubt for Thyme.

  Thyme arrived five minutes later. I was smudging the shop with white sage—after all, a man had been murdered in there—and I quickly brought her up to speed with the day’s events. She doubled over laughing about Camino, the giant cane toad, hopping toward Kayleen, but sobered up quickly to discover she had missed Constable Dawson.

  “What can we do to investigate Craig?” I asked her. “He had the opportunity, but what motive did he have?”

  “Or what motive did Kayleen have? If either of them did it, then they had to be in it together,” Thyme pointed out.

  I washed my hands and then dried them. “Sure, but what motive did Kayleen have? I don’t know where to start investigating those two.”

  Thyme slapped her forehead. “Silly me, the hairdresser!”

  I groaned. How could I have forgotten that?

  Thyme continued gleefully, “Call both hairdressers and see if you can get an appointment right now with either of them.”

  “But aren’t you going to go one of them?”

  Thyme laughed. “I don’t mean you should go to both hairdressers. I’ll go to the other one at some point, but I have to spend most of the day baking, and we both know you can’t do that. Your time’s better spent investigating, by pumping a hairdresser for information about Craig and Kayleen.”

  I threw up my hands in resignation. The first hairdresser I called said she could fit me in. She was probably the better choice of the two hairdressers, because I was stuck on the phone to her for fifteen minutes hearing how her children had been late for school and how she’d already had cancelations that morning.

  I told her I wanted a trim. Thyme had pointed out it would be no use having a treatment, because the stylist would leave me alone while the treatment was in my hair.

  I headed downtown, dreading the appointment. I’d never had any luck having a simple trim—they always cut off far too much. And as much as I wanted to get information on Craig and Kayleen, I did have to hurry back to mind the shop to leave Thyme free to get on with the baking.

  The hairdresser’s salon was small and dingy, and I thought I could smell mold as soon as I entered the room. Even the coloring chemicals weren’t able to suppress the damp, musty smell. Paint was peeling off the walls, and it had anything but a cheerful atmosphere.

  “You must be Amelia,” the woman said. “I’m Samantha.”

  I tried to sum her up. She wasn’t overly cheerful, but she wasn’t as depressed as her surroundings. “Yes, that’s right.”

  She motioned me to a chair, and at once fastened a cape around my neck. “So, what are we having today?”

  “Just a trim, please. I don’t want much off it at all.”

  Samantha clucked her tongue. She selected a strand of my hair, and held it to one side. “But you have dreadful split ends,” she said in a morbid tone. “They all need to come off.”

  I clutched the armrests on the chair. “Exactly how much has to come off?” I asked.

  Samantha indicated the amount on my hair. “This much,” she said firmly.

  “No, this much.” I held my fingers in the air.

  Samantha looked horror-stricken. “You really need it all to come off. There’s absolutely no point just cutting off some of your split ends. You have way too many split ends, and they all have to come off. Now, I suggest a good shampoo and conditioner, because your hair is so damaged. You’ve clearly been using the wrong shampoo and conditioner for your hair. You need to use a good brand. What brand are you using now?”

  I shot a quick glance at the brand she was selling, and named it.
I knew she was just trying to sell me the brand she had on hand.

  Samantha’s face fell. “That’s a good brand. I don’t know why your hair’s so damaged.” She sighed. “I really need to take all the split ends off.”

  I had to think fast. “I’ll tell you what, I’m a bit scared to have it all off in one go. Why don’t you cut off as much as I want, and then I’ll call some other time and make an appointment for my next day off, once I check the roster.”

  To my relief, Samantha agreed, albeit reluctantly.

  I thought it through. It wasn’t going to take her long to cut off the tiny bit of hair I had requested, although I had no doubt she would cut off some more. “I think my hair’s damaged because I’m stressed,” I said after a moment.

  Samantha latched onto the explanation like a Labrador to a tasty treat. “Why are you stressed?” she asked me.

  “That man, Scott Plank, was killed in my shop.”

  Samantha stopped clicking and stared at me in the mirror. “That’s right, and Craig and Kayleen were there as well, weren’t they?”

  I had to choose my words carefully, because I didn’t know if they were friends of hers. “That’s right.” When she didn’t respond, but continued snipping away, I decided to risk saying something else. “You know, I’m surprised they weren’t arrested, because the three of them were in the shop together, and I only left to go into the back room for a moment.”

  “They did it,” Samantha pronounced angrily.

  “They did?” I asked her. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” I added hastily in an attempt to encourage her to say more.

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” She stopped snipping and held her scissors in the air once more.

  “Did they have a motive?” I asked hopefully.

  “Of course!” Samantha raised her scissors even higher for emphasis. “Scott Plank cheated Kayleen over some land deal. Craig is frightened of her, so that’s why he went along with murdering Scott. Craig is a lovely person. He’s just really scared of that, that…”

  I could see Samantha was having trouble restraining herself from calling Kayleen some fancy words. I was also surprised that she seemed to like Craig.

  “Yes, I don’t know what Craig is doing with that awful woman,” I said. “Do you know Craig well?”

  Samantha returned to snipping, a bit more viciously. “Yes, we were dating, but then he dumped me for Kayleen. Of course, he can’t be attracted to her, so she must have something over him. That’s how I know she’s the murderer. I feel so sorry for Craig, but Kayleen would’ve forced him to do what she wanted. That’s just the kind of person she is.”

  I murmured my sympathies, and then added, “Do you know any details of the land deal that Scott cheated her over? Because if you did, you could tell the police and then they’d know she had a motive.”

  “No, I don’t,” Samantha said. “I wish I did. I’d like to see that, that… woman end up in prison.”

  Chapter 14

  I didn’t think it would be hard to cater the official opening of the new Council Chambers. After all, we were only catering the cakes. There were no meals being served, and we didn’t even have to make the coffee, which was just as well, because neither Thyme nor I were trained baristas. I was good at drinking the stuff, but I had no idea how to make it professionally.

  Thyme and I had spent the previous day baking. To be more precise, Thyme had spent the previous day baking and I had been her assistant, running around and collecting ingredients for her—and no, I hadn’t mixed up the salt and the sugar. I hoped so, anyway. I had done all the frosting, and had done a good job, if I do say so myself.

  There had been no sign of Fred, or Alder for that matter. I was a little upset. If Alder had meant to kiss me, then why hadn’t he contacted since?

  I carried a tray of lemon meringue cupcakes from Thyme’s car to the back of the new Council Chambers building, in which was their cramped but spotless kitchen. Not a cockroach in sight. That didn’t surprise me. Cockroaches could survive a nuclear holocaust, but not a Bayberry Creek winter. Thyme had tried to teach me to make meringue the previous week, but I’d made rubber instead. Perhaps I should patent it.

  “More boring speeches,” Thyme said, as she struggled under a huge load of strawberry basil shortcake cupcakes.

  “We don’t have to be in there listening,” I pointed out. “Don’t forget, we’re setting out the cakes for afterward, so we can stay in here meanwhile.”

  “And eat as many cupcakes as we like,” Thyme said, punctuating her remark by popping a peach cobbler cupcake in her mouth.

  I pulled a face. “Thyme, don’t eat all the merchandise.”

  “Go on, you know you want to,” she said through a full mouth of crumbs.

  I shrugged and devoured a raspberry pavlova cupcake.

  “So what’s happening with Alder?” she asked me.

  I finished eating the cupcake before I spoke. “What do you mean?”

  Thyme gave me a playful swat. “You know what I mean! Are you guys dating, or what?”

  “I don’t really know,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

  “Well, did he kiss you?”

  I felt my cheeks flush, and that was a giveaway. Thyme opened her mouth to say more, but then the hunky constable along with the dour Sergeant Tinsdell walked into the kitchen. I was relieved. I didn’t want to get into the whole did-the-entity-make-Alder-kiss-me-or-not scenario, not right now.

  The constable stopped and smiled at Thyme, while Sergeant Tinsdell walked straight over to me. “What are you doing here, Miss Spelled?”

  I bit back the urge to say ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ and instead said, “I’m catering the cupcakes to be served after the opening.”

  The sergeant simply nodded and walked into the main room, where people were already collected. The constable smiled at Thyme again and then followed him. The two officers took seats at the back of the room.

  I turned to Thyme. “So what’s happening with you and Constable Gorgeous?”

  Thyme stared at a spot on the wall. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I smiled. Now that I had some ammunition, I figured that Thyme wouldn’t give me the third degree about Alder to such an extent, not now that I could get my own back.

  I busied myself setting out the cupcakes onto nice plates, and onto cupcake tier stands. I had recently bought some vintage and antique bone china stands for occasions such as these. I arranged some cookies and cream cheesecake cupcakes on a Royal Albert china stand that featured a pretty rose design with gold trim and polka dots. Thyme set some triple chocolate cupcakes on a Tuscan china stand, their color set off nicely by the pale mint green of the china. The sugary aroma was hard to resist.

  It didn’t take long, and soon we had finished. “This is boring,” Thyme complained.

  “You’re telling me,” I said. “And I had to shut the shop to be here, so I’m likely losing business.”

  Thyme rearranged some red velvet cupcakes. “When your business grows, you can employ another staff member.”

  “That’ll be the day,” I muttered. “Why are all the speeches so boring? Why can’t anyone make an interesting speech? You know, like a speech from a soap opera. That would be funny. I wish they would.”

  Thyme agreed with me. “This speaker acts like he thinks an election’s coming up. He’s singing his own praises. It would be comical if it wasn’t so boring.”

  I laughed, and then joined Thyme at the doorway. I could see everyone was restless. I hoped the speakers didn’t go overtime, because I wanted to get this over with and head back to the shop. The speaker continued in a monotone, albeit a loud one. “Do you think we could leave, just for a bit?” Thyme asked, but I knew she was joking.

  “I’m going to sit down and read a book on my phone,” I told her. “Do you have any books downloaded to your phone?”

  Thyme’s face brightened considerably. “What a good idea!”

  Just the
n everybody gasped. I looked into the main room to see that a new speaker was at the microphone on the stage. Judging by everyone’s reactions, this speaker wasn’t boring. My stomach sank. I knew at once what was going on.

  “Yes, we owe a big thanks to Councilor Robinson for his speech here today. Why do I say this? Well, it was good of him to leave his lunch with his assistant, the young and beautiful Miss Austin.” Another collective gasp went up from the crowd.

  Thyme turned to me. “Did you wish for anything?”

  “I must have,” I said. “What are we going to do?”

  “Well, unless you can figure out how to banish him on the spot, there’s nothing we can do.”

  I stood there, frozen to the spot, my hands pressed to my cheeks, as Fred continued his speech. “I wish you’d stop!” I said. Nothing happened, so I added, “I wish you’d stop speaking right now.”

  Fred kept speaking, although he looked up at me and smiled. “Why didn’t that work?” I said to Thyme.

  “How should I know?” she asked me. “Perhaps he has to fulfill your first wish at the expense of later wishes? I have no idea.”

  “And which Councilor said he was on a business trip to the Sunshine Coast, but there was no business involved. Not if you don’t count funny business.” Fred paused to laugh. “And what about the Councilor who always expands his expenses sheet? I think you’ll find those expensive airfares to Sydney are fabricated, considering he drove and didn’t fly.”

  At that point, someone killed the sound to Fred’s microphone. Fred waved and walked off the stage.

  “I suppose it could’ve been worse,” Thyme said. “Just don’t say the W word anymore.”

  I nodded, too afraid to speak. Just then, I caught sight of the detectives standing at the back of the building. “Look, Thyme, it’s the detectives. They must think the murderer’s in the room.”

  “Chances are that the murderer is,” Thyme said. “I sure hope the detectives are making more progress than we are.”

  “We’re not making any more progress at all,” I said.