A Taste of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Alaine Allister

  A TASTE OF MAGIC

  Alaine Allister

  Copyright © 2015 A. Allister

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events depicted are products of the author’s imagination. The cover is for illustrative purposes only. All rights reserved.

  Out of work reporter Clarissa Spencer is being stalked by a stray cat that won’t go away. She can’t cook to save her life, her garden is an overgrown mess and her chocolate chip cookie addiction is out of control. Then to top it all off, she manages to get struck by lightning!

  Clarissa thinks she has it bad…until she finds out the town mayor has been shot to death and his widow has been falsely accused of killing him. Clarissa makes it her mission to expose the killer before her arch nemesis, an infuriatingly handsome reporter from the city newspaper, can.

  To make matters worse, her best friend won’t stop meddling in her love life and her eccentric aunt turns up unannounced on her doorstep. As if that’s not enough, Clarissa discovers the lightning strike apparently gave her magical powers. What a week!

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 01

  Chapter 02

  Chapter 03

  Chapter 04

  Chapter 05

  Chapter 06

  Chapter 07

  Chapter 08

  Chapter 09

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 01

  “Meow!”

  Clarissa Spencer awoke with an undignified snort, startled from her slumber. Her blue-green eyes popped open as she was rudely jarred awake. She immediately squinted against the morning light, shielding her eyes with her hand.

  She pulled her blanket up over her head. Then she took a few deep, calming breaths and prepared to drift off again.

  “Meowmeowmeowmeow!”

  Clarissa’s eyes opened again. There was no ignoring the irritating, insistent sounds outside her bedroom window. And there was definitely no going back to sleep. She stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom with an expression of utter exasperation on her face.

  Oh no.

  No, no, no.

  This wasn’t really happening...except it was.

  Her sleep had been unceremoniously interrupted by that darn cat again!

  With a grunt of displeasure, Clarissa clambered out of bed, hissing at the coldness of the hardwood. The floorboards creaked beneath her feet as she galumphed across the small but cozy room. They would need to be replaced before long.

  There were a lot of things around the house that needed attention. New shingles and a new furnace topped the list. It was a well-kept, quaint little place – her parents had taken great care of it. But it was getting older and old houses required repairs.

  Sadly, those repairs would have to wait.

  Once Clarissa reached the window, she pulled the blind up with an unnecessarily violent thud. She wasn’t a morning person at the best of times, and she had stayed up late trying her best to find unnecessary expenses to cut from her budget. It was fair to say she was tired and grumpy.

  She peered outside.

  Sure enough, two beady eyes were staring in at her.

  “Augh!” Clarissa gasped in alarm, clutching her hand to her heart and jumping back.

  Even though she had known that blasted cat was out there thanks to its incessant meowing, its presence was still startling. With its sleek black fur, unwavering gaze and sneaky mannerisms, the little beast was rather unnerving.

  Clarissa peered out again.

  The cat was still sitting there staring in at her, unblinking.

  “Meow,” it said through the window.

  “Don’t do that!” Clarissa told it sternly. “Go away. Shoo!”

  The cat just sat there defiantly.

  “What do you want?” Clarissa demanded, because obviously the cat was going to answer her.

  The cat continued to stare.

  “Go away!” Clarissa ordered. “Go find someone else to bother!”

  Some people were Cat People.

  Clarissa’s best friend Liana, for example, was one of those suckers who would turn to mush at the mere mention of a cat. Whenever she crossed paths with a furry feline, she would fall to pieces. It was as though a switch flipped in her brain and she suddenly started cooing and spewing out incoherent baby talk.

  Clarissa thought it was simultaneously disgusting and hilarious to witness.

  Liana’s defence was that she was a Cat Person, as if that justified her insane behavior. Clarissa teased her that if she wasn’t careful, she would soon turn into a crazy cat lady. There was no denying that Liana was most definitely a Cat Person.

  But not all people were Cat People.

  Clarissa, for one, was most definitely not a Cat Person. She like animals in general and didn’t hate cats, exactly. But she much preferred dogs. Canines were, generally speaking, affectionate, enthusiastic and loyal to a fault. With dogs, you always knew where you stood.

  But cats...most cats were fickle, arrogant and hard to read. Clarissa had never understood why people like Liana pandered to them. Clarissa also didn’t understand why the little black beast in her window kept coming back.

  It had started turning up about a week ago, just lurking about in the shadows outside Clarissa’s cozy little house. The first night it had leapt out at her from behind a rose bush with a howl, startling her so badly she had nearly wet her pants right there in her front yard! Needless to say, the cat hadn’t made the best first impression.

  But apparently her shriek of terror hadn’t deterred it from returning.

  For seven days, the stubborn little creature had been skulking around outside the house. Clarissa didn’t want it out there turning her flowerbeds into one giant, disgusting litter box. She had tried ignoring it, clapping her hands and once, even chasing after it with a broom.

  But nothing had worked.

  The cat kept coming around.

  “Go home,” Clarissa said to the cat through the windowpane.

  Then it occurred to her that the cat might be a stray. Maybe it had no home. That would explain why it was hanging around on the edge of town. Maybe it spent its days hunting for food in the forest just beyond Clarissa’s house. The cat wasn’t wearing a collar and its black fur, while shiny, was slightly matted.

  Still though, it appeared to be in good condition. It looked well fed and seemed to be healthy and energetic. Besides, it was only autumn and a very mild one at that. It wasn’t as though it was the dead of winter or anything.

  “Meow!” the cat yowled. For such a small animal, it sure had a mighty set of lungs. Even through the closed window, its cries could be heard loud and clear.

  Clarissa scowled at the cat. “Can’t you go bother someone else?”

  “Meow.”

  “If I feed you, then you’ll never go away,” Clarissa informed the cat, as if trying to justify her decision. She closed the blinds, turned her back and eyed her unmade bed longingly. All she wanted to do was crawl back in and catch up on some much-needed sleep.

  But then her conscience got the best of her. Stupid conscience…

  Even though she wasn’t a Cat Person, Clarissa couldn’t stand the thought of a living creature being cold or hungry. Though she would never admit it to anyone, she wasn’t as heartless as she pretended to be. Actually, she was secretly a big softie.

  So with a sigh, s
he returned to the window.

  She undid the latch and opened it, allowing the cat to come inside.

  “This is just a one-time thing,” she told the cat firmly as it entered her bedroom and pranced around as if it owned the place. “Don’t get used to it. You’re not welcome here, okay?”

  The cat paid her no attention whatsoever. It was already strutting down the hallway with its little pink nose triumphantly in the air, exploring its new castle. As she followed along behind the cat like its unwilling subject, Clarissa couldn’t shake the feeling she had been duped.

  Clarissa’s house was no castle, but it was cozy and comfortable. The small craftsman cottage had been her childhood home and it was full of happy memories. The fireplace was where Christmas stockings had been hung every December and the kitchen was where many a family dinner had been enjoyed.

  Unfortunately, Clarissa hadn’t inherited any cooking genes from her mother. Adding milk to a bowl of cereal was about as complicated an endeavor as Clarissa could handle in the kitchen. Anything more ambitious than that always seemed to end in catastrophe.

  Even though the kitchen was rarely used these days, all the memories were still there.

  The memories had been a bit part of why Clarissa had kept the family home. She couldn’t bear the thought of random strangers moving in and creating new memories in that space. Truthfully, she was far more sentimental than she cared to admit.

  When her parents had announced they were selling the house and retiring to Florida, Clarissa had moved heaven and earth to get financing in place so she could buy it.

  The decision to purchase the charming little house had been made with Clarissa’s heart rather than her head. But at the time, she had also looked at it as a sound financial investment. Then again, at the time she had also had a high paying job.

  Oh, how things had changed...

  “Meow!” the cat called insistently as it sat expectantly in front of the refrigerator.

  “Okay okay, I’ll find you something to eat,” Clarissa told the impatient feline.

  She opened the fridge and rummaged around inside. She had to offer her unwanted houseguest three different things before it finally deemed something acceptable and began to eat. Clearly this stray wasn’t starving!

  That was the primary difference between cats and dogs, Clarissa decided. When you had a dog, you were its owner. But when you had a cat, it was your owner. Or at least it liked to think it was. Who in their right mind would ever want a cat as a pet when it would just essentially try to make you its slave? Yuck!

  “As soon as you’re finished eating you have to leave,” Clarissa instructed the cat.

  It, of course, ignored her.

  Now that she had fed it, clearly she was of no use or importance. Stupid ungrateful cats...

  As the cat bathed, Clarissa hopped on her laptop and quickly skimmed the Help Wanted section of the town’s web site. The reason she skimmed it so quickly was because there was literally nothing there. Well, not unless a thinly veiled “wife wanted” ad from Sugarcomb Lake’s most ineligible old bachelor counted – gross!

  With a sigh, Clarissa picked up the phone book and flipped through it. She grabbed a pen and paper and made her way over to the living room. She flopped down on the couch, still wearing her pajamas. Then she began cold calling every business in town to see if there was, by chance, a job vacancy.

  Luck was not on Clarissa’s side. Or at least the economy wasn’t. That was the problem: no one seemed to be hiring and she was quickly running out of money. She still couldn’t believe she had gotten herself into such a pickle. Her faith in humanity had basically left her penniless.

  “What am I going to do?” she moaned in despair after making what felt like her millionth call.

  “Meow,” the cat replied matter-of-factly.

  Clarissa looked down and saw the stray sitting at her feet. It looked up at her. It was still smacking its lips, if cats had lips. Before Clarissa knew what was happening, the furry feline sauntered over to her favorite armchair, jumped onto it and curled into an impossibly tiny ball.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” Clarissa protested. “Get off the furniture! You’ll get cat hair everywhere!”

  Predictably, the cat paid her no attention whatsoever.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It opened one eye and gave her a dirty look that basically said “I’m trying to sleep so be quiet, Human.” Then it contorted its body into a position that didn’t look even remotely comfortable. It promptly fell asleep like that, basically lying upside down.

  “So much for laying down the law,” Clarissa muttered as she looked over at her snoring houseguest with disdain. “But you’re not staying here, Cat. As soon as you wake up from your nap you have to hit the road.”

  As if right on cue, the cat suddenly and unceremoniously passed gas. Logically, Clarissa knew it was nothing more than a gross, foul-smelling coincidence. The cat was fast asleep, so it wasn’t as though it had done that out of spite. But it sure felt like it.

  Chapter 02

  The next day was yet another beautiful, uncharacteristically warm one.

  After another unsuccessful morning of job-hunting, Clarissa was stressed. To unwind - and because it was on her chore list – she decided to spend the afternoon gardening. It was getting to be that time of year when snow could hit at any time. Minnesotans knew the unpredictability of winter better than anyone. So Clarissa figured she had better take advantage of the sunshine and mild temperatures while she could.

  Her normally immaculate garden had been neglected for a few weeks.

  Once Clarissa had finally accepted the harsh reality that her job was gone for good, she hadn’t felt like gardening. She hadn’t felt like doing much of anything except moping around. Then anger had set in. She had alternated between sadness and rage for a while, during which time many boxes of chocolate chip cookies had been consumed.

  Then she had picked herself back up and tried to figure out her next move.

  She was still working on that.

  Some days she still couldn’t believe her career had been yanked right out from under her.

  Everyone had assumed she would have her job back in no time, Clarissa included.

  Clarissa had been a journalist. Although living in a small town where not much happened meant she had to write a lot of fluff pieces, she had nonetheless loved her work. It had been her dream job...until the dream had come to an abrupt end.

  When the local newspaper had been shut down, it had caught everyone by surprise. One day Clarissa had been gainfully employed and the next she had been out of a job. That had been a bitter pill to swallow. But she’d had every reason to believe her office closure was temporary and she would soon be back at work.

  The Sugarcomb Lake Gazette was a small newspaper with a focus on local attractions and events. It had been a staple in the community for decades. But the tiny newspaper hadn’t been able to compete with The Green City Chronicle.

  The big city newspaper had bought the Gazette out. That had been the beginning of the end.

  It had also been when Clarissa’s garden had become overgrown and neglected.

  The Chronicle was owned by Elwood Tweed, a rich businessman with questionable ethics. Immediately after purchasing the Gazette, he had shut it down citing restructuring issues. Clarissa and her co-workers had trusted that after a week or two of unpaid vacation, they would be back at work.

  Unfortunately, that hadn’t happened.

  One week off had turned into two…and then three…and then four…

  There had been promises of the office re-opening. Eager to get back to the job she loved, Clarissa had faithfully waited. She had lived on her savings in the meantime, grateful that she had them to fall back on.

  Then her co-workers had started grumbling about being misled. At first Clarissa hadn’t wanted to believe it. But one by one, her co-workers had moved on and found new jobs – and some had even attempted to take legal action against Elwood T
weed.

  His big city lawyers had quickly put a stop to that. Apparently his team had exploited some silly loophole. While what he had done had been unethical and underhanded, technically he hadn’t broken any labor laws. He had shut down the small town newspaper and there wasn’t a thing anyone could do about it.

  The Gazette, a long-time and much-beloved part of the community, was gone.

  And there was nothing anyone could do about it.

  At first residents of Sugarcomb Lake had been indignant on Clarissa and her co-workers’ behalf. There had been a small but mighty public outcry and calls to boycott Elwood Tweed and The Green City Chronicle. At first, Clarissa had felt like she had support.

  But then news of Sarah Anderson’s lurid affair had hit the town gossip circuit. Apparently the prim and proper minister’s wife wasn’t so prim and proper after all! The small town had been abuzz with news about that discovery for a good week. Actually, Sarah Anderson’s name was still spoken in hushed whispers at the coffee shop on a rather regular basis.

  After that, there had been talk about the mayor’s intern getting into some hot water. Photos of him at a drunken frat party in Green City had surfaced on social media, causing all the prissy middle aged ladies in town to clutch their pearls and cluck in disgust. Clarissa had thanked her lucky stars social media hadn’t been an integral part of her college experience!

  The third tidbit of gossip had been something about a vandalism spree. Technically, Clarissa wasn’t sure if one could consider it a “spree” when the sole victim had been Mrs. Meddler, the town’s crankiest and most impossible resident. The infuriating old woman’s house had been rather meticulously covered in toilet paper. Clarissa had driven by to check it out for herself and had been rather impressed with the precision of the prankster or pranksters.

  The point was, bit by bit, everyone had forgotten about the Gazette.

  People moved on, opting to subscribe to the Chronicle or get news online. As for local goings on, there was always the coffee shop on Main Street. It was more of a rumor mill than an actual source of accurate information, but for many people it scratched an itch. So one way or another, life returned to normal for the residents of Sugarcomb Lake in the absence of the Gazette.