by Zoe Arden
I shrugged and bit my lip. "I don't know."
Sheriff Knoxx sighed and rubbed his temples.
"So, after Natalie Vargas was almost killed by this 'crazy tourist,' you decided to stop for some coffee?" he asked.
I blushed. "I was gonna bring back a couple of Brass Monkeys, plus I wanted to tell Lucy about what happened."
Sheriff Knoxx nodded as if things were beginning to make sense now. "I see."
"Can we go now?" Lucy asked.
Sheriff Knoxx sighed. "Go on. If I need to ask you any more questions, I know where to find you both."
Colt stayed behind to go over the case with the sheriff. "I'll call you later," he said and kissed me goodbye.
Lucy and I hurried out of the station before Sheriff Knoxx changed his mind and decided to keep us overnight.
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CHAPTER
TEN
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The door to Mystic chimed the next day and several tourists came wandering in. We weren't the only bakery in Sweetland—not since Wilma Trueheart and Polly Peacock had opened Sweets n' Treats—but we were the favorite with locals. That meant when tourists asked a local where to go for a cookie or cupcake, they directed them our way.
The tourists stood at the display cases, looking at our baked goods like they'd never seen a cupcake before. Trixie and I exchanged an amused look. My dad was sitting on a stool, taking a break from the back room where he'd been baking brownies and peanut butter dream bars all day. He'd been unusually quiet since finding out that Mack was murdered, and I hoped he wasn't worrying about me. He already worried about me enough as it was. Eleanor was in the back working on some new flavors to go with my blemish blaster. She thought that a cinnamon apple cake with a vanilla base sounded like just the thing.
Eleanor hadn't been mad at me for getting back late from lunch yesterday. How could she be after I'd found a dead body and explained about Natalie?
"What are chocolate lava peppy cakes?" one woman with a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses asked, pointing at the display case.
"They're lava cakes with a little caffeine added for an extra energy boost," I lied.
All of our goods were safe for human consumption; we just couldn't always tell them exactly what they were consuming. We settled for telling them the expected outcome—in this case, an energy boost—which had proven to be good enough. Most tourists were more concerned with how good something tasted rather than what was in it, anyway.
"I'll take one," said the woman with the hat, yawning. "Make that two."
The rest of them placed orders for more lava cakes, chocolate chip happiness cookies, peanut butter dream bars, and strawberry rhubarb cold buster mini pies. They thought the names we'd given everything were cute.
Natalie walked in just as the last person was paying.
"What in the whole wide witching world is the matter with you?" she shouted so loud the tourists all jumped. My dad jumped, too, almost knocking over his stool.
Natalie was looking at me like she wanted to rip my head off.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, stepping back from her even though there was a counter between us. If looks could have killed, I'd already be dead.
"Did you tell Sheriff Knoxx that someone tried to hit me with a car yesterday?"
Uh oh.
"Yeah..."
"Why would you do that?" she screeched, slamming her hand down on the counter.
My dad hurried over to us, looking worried. "Now, Natalie, Ava was only trying to help."
"That's the problem. She's always trying to help."
Natalie was definitely two steps away from punching me in the face.
"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just..." But I wasn't sure how to say 'I was just trying to take the focus off the fact that I was supposed to be meeting Mack right before he was murdered,' without upsetting her even more.
"You just what?" Natalie yelled so loudly that some of the boxes on the display cases in the center of the store shook.
The tourists looked as though they were torn between staying and seeing the fight, which was sure to make a great story for their friends back home, or getting out of there uninjured while they still could. Once the fisticuffs started flying between two witches, no one was safe. When Natalie picked a brownie bite off our sample tray and threw it at me, they decided it was time to go.
"Ouch!" I shouted as the brownie bite bounced off my head, just missing my eye.
"Natalie! Those are for eating, not throwing." Trixie yelled, setting her hands on her hips.
Eleanor poked her head out of the back room. "What on Earth is going on out here?"
Natalie looked at her. "Your niece is trying to get me killed, that's what!"
"Whoa," I said. "Get you killed? What are you talking about?"
Natalie paused with her mouth open. Her face turned beet red. "Never mind," she suddenly said. "Just don't go spreading any more rumors about me."
"I wasn't spreading rumors," I told her. "Someone tried to hit you with their car. That's a fact. And the only person I told was Sheriff Knoxx."
She arched one eyebrow at me skeptically.
"And my dad... and aunts... and Lucy," I finished, wincing at the number of people who I'd told about yesterday's event. "But I'm sure—"
"From now on, just keep your mouth closed when it comes to my personal affairs."
"I'm not sure if almost getting hit by a car is the same thing as your 'personal affairs,' " I told her. "Especially when a dozen or more people saw it happen in broad daylight."
Natalie grunted, then turned and stormed out of the store. I looked at my dad and aunts.
"What in the world was that all about?" Trixie asked.
"You'd think she'd be grateful you said something," Eleanor said. "That she'd want that maniac behind the wheel caught."
"I better go after her," I said and hurried out the door. What was going on with her lately? She was clearly afraid that someone was after her, but who and why? Was it the same person who had killed Mack?
"Natalie!" I yelled, calling after her as she hurried down the sidewalk. A few people glanced at me, but most just continued on their way without paying us any attention.
"Go away," she said.
"What are you afraid of?" I asked.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do."
I grabbed hold of her shoulder, stopping her between the barbershop and the florist. We were standing in front of a brick wall with tourists and locals walking around us and barely glancing up as they texted on their phones or snapped pictures of the multicolored palm trees Heavenly Haven was known for. Not many places had orange and blue leaves on their palm trees.
"Will you leave me alone?" Natalie snapped.
"Not until you tell me what's going on."
"Why do you even care?" she asked. "You didn't know Mack." She paused. "Did you?"
I hesitated. "Did you?"
We stared at each other for a minute, neither of us saying a word.
"Natalie," I finally asked, a new thought occurring to me. "Do you know who killed Mack?"
She hesitated then opened her mouth. A dagger flew past her nose so fast that it actually stuck in the brick wall when it landed there.
Natalie jumped back, looking wildly around. I looked around, too, but whoever had thrown it was already gone.
"Natalie—"
"Stay away from me," she said. "Don't talk to me."
She ran down the sidewalk and out of sight.
* * *
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
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"What do you think it means?" I asked Snowball, who licked one front paw and looked at me with her wide, green eyes.
"Snowball thinks it sounds like someone is trying to kill
Natalie Vargas."
"Yeah, I know, but why?"
Snowball licked her other front paw. "Snowball does not know, but she will confer with the other familiars for ideas."
She jumped off my bed and hurried to find Tootsie and Rocky. Tootsie was Trixie's familiar, a big orange cat who did not limit himself to tuna but loved all things fishy. Rocky was Eleanor's wolfhound. He had gray and white fur and came almost to my waist.
I sighed and pushed myself off my bed. I was already running late for the bakery this morning. I'd overslept and neither my dad nor Trixie had bothered to wake me up. I knew they were both preoccupied with other things though, so didn't hold it against them.
My dad had a date with Sadie Belle last night, his steady girlfriend and the first woman he'd dated since my mother's death over twenty years ago. He'd gotten home quite late, and it had probably been all he could do to get himself out of bed this morning, let alone me.
Trixie had gone out with Melbourne last night. I hadn't even heard her come in, though that wasn't entirely unusual when she went out with Melbourne. He preferred the night time, so she had a tendency to stay out late even when she had to get up early.
I headed downstairs and grabbed the coffee from the pot. I winced. It was cold. It was even later than I'd thought. I checked the time again and realized I'd misread it when I first woke up. It wasn't 7:09. It was 9:07.
"Crud," I muttered and hurried out the door. The bakery was already open.
"Mama, Mama, Mama!" Snowball called, running after me.
"What is it, Snowy?" I asked, slowing down but not stopping.
"Tootsie had a good idea."
I saw a giant orange blur whiz past me, and Tootsie was suddenly in front of me on the sidewalk. Rocky came up on his right, Snowy on his left. They formed a line across the sidewalk, blocking my path. I stopped running and looked at them.
"All right, I'm listening," I said.
Tootsie meowed loudly, clearing his throat, then spoke. "Tootsie believes, based on facts so far, that Natalie is hiding something."
I sighed, slightly exasperated. "I know that. I'm trying to figure out what it is that she's hiding."
"Rocky agrees with Tootsie," said Rocky.
"So does Snowball," said Snowball.
I sighed. This was getting me nowhere fast.
"Tootsie is not yet finished. He believes that Natalie would trust her secrets with people she was close with, the same as Auntie Ava would."
"Okay..." I said. "That makes sense."
"Natalie is married," Snowball said, her voice higher-pitched than either Rocky's or Tootsie's. "Marriage means trust."
"That's true," I said, wondering if Bill Vargas might be home now. Probably not. He was probably at work. "Thanks," I told them.
"Snowball gets tuna?"
"Rocky gets bacon?"
"Tootsie gets both?"
I laughed and ran back into the house to give them each a treat, then hurried down to Bill Vargas, Sr.'s dental office.
His office was surprisingly busy when I stepped inside. Every chair in the waiting room was taken. Witches and wizards looked up from their phones and wiggled in their seats, as if making sure I knew those seats were spoken for.
"May I help you?" asked the receptionist. I stepped up to the counter. There was a door to the left of it, which led into the back where Bill Sr. did his stuff. I could hear some sort of dental machine going now.
Even with all the spells and charms that witches and wizards had come up with, the best way to fix a bad tooth was still a visit to the dentist. Of course, these dental tools were a little more specialized than the tools found in a normal dentist's office—a human dentist's office, that is—but they did essentially the same thing.
"Hi," I said to the receptionist. "I'd like to see Bill Vargas."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but I—"
"The doctor is very busy right now. If you don't have an appointment, you'll have to come back."
"But I don't need him to look at my teeth," I said. "I just need to talk to him."
She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glared at me. "Do you see all these people here waiting? They all have appointments."
"But I'm not a patient."
"Then what are you?"
"A friend," I lied. I barely knew Bill.
"If you're a friend, then you should have his personal number and can call him on it, thus talking to him anytime you wish."
I forced a smile. His receptionist was much snarkier than I'd anticipated. One of the kids in the waiting room behind me suddenly stood up, bored, and started running around the room screaming. His mother chased after him. The kid was running so fast that he ran into the wall and knocked himself to the ground. His nose started bleeding, and his screaming increased by ten.
"Help!" the mother screamed so loudly that everyone there knew where the kid had gotten such powerful lungs from.
The receptionist bolted out of her seat. The kid was fine, I could see that. His nose wasn't even broken, just bloody. I took the opportunity and slipped in through the door. Bill Vargas was in the back room, hovering over a patient in the dental chair.
"Excuse me," I said.
Bill jumped about a foot. His patient must have been under some sort of anesthesia or spell or something because he barely batted an eye.
"Who are you?" Bill demanded. "What are you doing back here?" He squinted at me and his expression changed. "Ava Fortune?" he asked, surprise replacing irritation. For now, at least.
"Yeah. Hi. Haven't seen you in a while."
He looked at his patient, who seemed perfectly at ease. His mouth was hanging open, and he was drooling slightly.
"If you have a tooth you need me to look at it..." he began.
I shook my head. "That's not it. I need to talk to you. About Natalie."
Bill narrowed his eyes. His brow furrowed. He ushered me out of the room and into a separate office. "What about my wife?" he asked, his voice deepening. Not threatening, exactly, just serious.
"You know what happened to Mack Heathrow, right?" I asked.
He nodded. "Sure. Everybody knows. It's all my patients can talk about. What's that got to do with Natalie?"
"I'm not sure, exactly. But I think that whoever killed Mack might be after Natalie, too."
Bill's eyes darkened. "What would make you think that?"
"First, that car tried to run her over," I said.
His eyes widened. "Wait, what? What car?"
I paused. "Natalie didn't tell you about that?"
He shook his head.
Oops.
Well, now that the cat was out of the bag, I might as well keep going. "A brown sedan almost collided with her a few days ago. Then, just yesterday, I was talking to her in the street and a dagger flew right past her nose."
"What did you do with the dagger?" he asked.
I blushed. "I tried to pull it out of the wall where it was stuck, but I couldn't get it to budge. I went to look for something to help me with it, and when I got back, it was gone."
He licked his lips. "Sounds to me like your imagination is running a little wild with you.”
Why were people always saying that about me? I sighed, exasperated.
"Just ask her about it."
"I will, but I think I know what's going on here."
"You do?" I asked.
"Sure. You know that my wife and Mack used to date. He's dead, and a few things go wrong for her the last couple of days, and you assume that there must be a connection."
"Mack and Natalie used to date?" I squealed.
His face paled. "That's not a secret. Most people who were living on Sweetland at that time know that."
"If they used to be so close," I said, excited now, "then maybe that means they still were. Maybe he asked her for help."
Bill's face went from pale to red. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, Ms. Fortune, but I have nothing further to say to you."
"Wait," I squealed and the door to the office burst open. The receptionist glared at me.
"There you are," she yelled, then looked at Bill. "I'm sorry, sir. She slipped past me when I was dealing with some clients."
"It's all right, Isabel. Please show Ms. Fortune out."
"With pleasure," she said and gave me a death stare that forced me from the room. I decided to go quietly. The last thing I needed right now was more people who wanted to punch me in the face. I dared a glance back over my shoulder at Bill. Too late. I could now add him to my ever-expanding list of people who wanted to rip my head off.
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CHAPTER
TWELVE
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Every day seemed to bring more questions than answers.
Dr. Dunne had finished his post-mortem on Mack and announced that he'd been killed with a dagger about a half-hour to an hour before we'd found his body, which meant he must have been murdered just after I'd seen him in front of Knobs and Broomsticks. For all I knew, I was the last person to see him alive. I shuddered at the revelation. Natalie had come so close to meeting her own fate with a dagger just recently, it couldn't be a coincidence.
I wished now that I hadn't left the dagger sticking out of the wall. I should have tried another spell to free it before running off to look for something or someone to help me. Maybe it could have provided valuable clues, like fingerprints.
Maybe it was time to fill Eleanor, Trixie, and my dad in on what was going on, though the more dangerous things seemed, the less eager I was to draw them into things. I didn't want whatever maniac was after Natalie going after my family next.
I was just setting out some fresh cookies in our display case when Natalie came in. She had both kids with her this time. Bill Jr, or Billy as they called him, was eight. Mary was six. I could tell as soon as they walked in that they were giving her a run for her money today.
