“About Tim?” Zoey asked, slightly unsure after her conversation about Wayne and Missy.
Peach nodded. “It got me so scared I made Otis come home this morning. Can you imagine a killer running around Moonshine Hollow?” Peach pointed to a chocolate croissant and a bran muffin. “But I’m not going to feel bad for eating this yummy croissant in front of him. He needs to watch his sugar intake after all.” Peach smirked.
Zoey pulled out the order as Peach leaned even closer and dropped her voice. “You know who I think it is? I think it was Doris Bleacher.”
Zoey’s eyebrows rose as she handed over her bag. “Dr. Thurman’s Doris?” No way. Zoey couldn’t imagine Doris doing anything besides glaring at someone.
“There’s rumor that she and Tim were having a May-December romance. You didn’t hear it from me, but Doris is quite the cougar,” Peach whispered as Zoey tried not to throw up in her mouth.
“Doris?” Zoey couldn’t have heard that right.
“You betcha. She read a kinky book where a three-hundred-year-old vampire met this young thirty-year-old mortal man and ties him to her bed to have her wicked way with him. Doris started going to these specialty clubs in Knoxville. Sally June said she saw a women she swore to be Doris dressed in black sneaking from Tim’s house early in the morning at the beginning of the summer.”
Zoey blinked speechless. Tim wasn’t a young buck, but he was decades younger than Doris and the image of Doris tying Tim up . . . Well, maybe she got rambunctious trying to bite his neck and accidently broke it.
“Oh, here she is. Act normal,” Peach hissed as she grabbed her bag and tried not to stare while walking past Doris who had inched her way through the door.
Zoey blushed and turned back to the next person in line. “Mornin’ Miss Zoey.”
“Good morning, Billy Ray. What can I do you for?” Zoey asked, using one of her favorite southern phrases she had picked up since moving to Moonshine.
“I’ll take one of them double chocolate muffins. Have you heard the news?” Billy Ray asked as he ran a hand over his long bushy beard.
“Yes, I daresay the whole town has now heard about Tim,” Zoey said, reaching for the muffin.
“Hmm, it had to be Ronald Stone. He’s slicker than a greased pig, and everyone knows he has run Stonecreek Distillery into the ground. But I was talking about Wayne and Missy. I heard she was in the family way. Her Pa was in the club last night and was drunker than a skunk saying the only way he’d allow his baby to marry that good-for-nothing Wayne was if she were pregnant. Then news was this morning she’s engaged, so I guess there’s a bun in that oven.”
As a lawyer, Zoey excelled at rationale and logic, but there was little of that in Moonshine. “I hate to state the obvious, but they only started dating eight days ago. I’m pretty sure she can’t tell if she’s pregnant yet. Besides, Missy is too concerned with how she’d look in a wedding dress to get pregnant. However, I have to admit Ronald Stone does sound suspect. Anyone who tries to make a kale and quinoa moonshine just ain’t right.”
“Amen, sister,” Billy Ray agreed as he headed over to the group of Opossums huddled with some Irises. Gossip brought the romance back to Moonshine that was for sure. Peach and Otis were back together, and Billy Ray slipped his hand around his wife’s waist as he handed her the top of the muffin, which everyone knows is the best part.
“I think it was the sexy biker,” Faye said next as she moved up to collect her muffins. “I saw him, you know?” Faye practically preened.
“I know Luke is looking for him. What does he look like?” Zoey asked as Faye’s cheeks turned pink.
“His face was covered with a helmet, but the good Lord certainly blessed his body. He was wearing these tight black jeans and shirt. I could see everything. Well, thanks for the muffins.” Faye handed her money over and raced to catch up with Peach.
“Hey, baby,” Justin smirked. “I’ll take a dozen.”
That got Zoey’s attention. Justin never came into the shop for one reason—he spent all his money on moonshine. Which lead to the reason he held odd jobs. He drank too much to hold a steady one. “That’ll be twenty dollars,” Zoey said, not reaching for the muffin until she actually saw the cash. But sure enough, Justin slapped a twenty on the counter.
“So, baby, I was thinking we could get some chow at the diner tonight. My treat.” Justin winked, and Zoey hurried to duck down to grab the muffins. “You know, like a date.”
Zoey cringed. It wasn’t that Justin was bad, he just wasn’t good. He sped through town, he whistled at women, and he spent all his money on guns and moonshine. “Sorry, I can’t. I have plans with Agnes and Vilma.” Zoey shoved the box of muffins at him and then called, “Next!”
Zoey looked away from Justin’s surprised face and right into the hard-lined face of Doris. “I want to take a bite out of the white chocolate raspberry. Give me two.”
Zoey had to duck her head as she reached into the case so Doris wouldn’t see her red cheeks. Peach had put the image of Doris as a kinky vamp into her head and now Zoey couldn’t get it out of her head.
“Here you go,” Zoey said with a blank face in place. Doris slapped her money on the counter and headed out of the store. No chitchat for her.
The rest of the day flew by. Accusations were flying on who could have murdered Tim and whether or not Missy was knocked up. Finally, at two in the afternoon, there was peace. Zoey’s mind was racing with all she had heard. She may have done her best to leave the law behind her, but as she cleaned her kitchen and prepped for the desserts, she was preoccupied with running all the possible criminal scenarios through her mind. Unfortunately, there were too many scenarios, too many rumors, and too many suspects. However, there was one thing that stuck out—Ronald Stone.
The bell over the door tinkled and Zoey wiped her hands on her apron. When she came out from the kitchen, she saw Luke peering into the display case. “Deputy, what can I do you for?”
“The bourbon chocolate cupcake looks great. I’ll take one of those, please. It’s been a long day.” Luke straightened up, and Zoey saw the tight lines around his mouth.
“Did you meet with Ronald Stone? It seems most people believe he’s behind Tim’s murder,” Zoey said, reaching for the cupcake.
“I did.”
“What about the mysterious motorcycle man?”
“He’s a ghost.” Luke sighed. “Can I ask you a question as a lawyer?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“I’m wondering about how much evidence is needed to secure a conviction. Our town is so small; the biggest case our ancient prosecutor has seen in the last six months is a case of cow tipping. You’re a big city lawyer, and I’d like to see what you think,” Luke told her as he ran a hand over his face.
“I didn’t practice criminal work, but one of my friends did, so I heard a lot about it. I’ll see what I can do.” Zoey handed Luke the cupcake then moved around to the front so she could take a seat at one of the small bistro tables across from Luke.
Luke settled his long frame into the seat and sighed. “The sheriff wants me to arrest Stone, but I don’t think I have enough evidence. Stone refused to let me search his office to look for the recipes, but did tell me he’s seen one of them.”
“Seen one?” Zoey asked as questions formed. “When? In what format? Who showed him? Where were they?”
Luke chuckled as he took a bite of the cupcake. “He said a photo of one recipe was emailed to him last night from an anonymous email address. Stone did show me the email, but not the recipe. The email offered to sell the entire recipe collection for a million dollars. The seller said they’d be in touch soon to receive the answer and the money. The sheriff thought it was a red herring to throw us off since Stone refused to destroy the recipe.”
“I’d tell Stone he needs to hand over the recipe, then confiscate his email account or else charge him with receiving stolen property and also being in violation of Moonshine Distillery’s intellectual pro
perty rights. You can get a warrant for the email address of the sender, but it may take a while to track that person down.” Zoey thought she’d feel alive talking about the law, but she didn’t. Instead, it seemed more like a distant memory. Zoey took a deep breath. She didn’t miss being a lawyer. That revelation slammed into her. If she wasn’t going to be a lawyer again, what would she do? Would she stay in Moonshine baking her sweet treats? And then another reckoning hit her, just like a truck running her over and then backing up to make sure she was dead. She was a witch. She’d been called that a time or two, but now she was a finger-wiggling, bona fide magical witch.
Luke interrupted her epiphany as he laid a five on the table. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll see if the state police have any tech experts who can help trace the email address. If all else fails, I can call in a favor from some of my old partners in Knoxville or see if my contacts in Keeneston, Kentucky have any ideas. Ava would know who to talk to. They’re good at navigating the gray area of the law. I like the idea of treating the recipes as stolen property. I’d been thinking of this solely as a murder. At least I can try to protect Moonshine Distillery’s legacy.”
Luke stood but paused as he looked down at her. Zoey’s heart sped up and her fingers tingled to reach out to him so she shoved them into her lap. That was until she heard Ava’s name again. Who was she to him? “Have you ever thought of running for town prosecutor?”
Zoey thought about it and thought about her epiphany she’d just had. “At one point I would have leapt at it. But the excitement isn’t there anymore. I’m happy to help when I can, but baking makes me happy.”
Luke gave her soft smile. “I understand. I am a little disappointed I will continue to be hampered by Mr. Jenkins’s daily naps, so I may be calling on you if I need any more legal advice. Plus, I still owe you a real date.”
When Luke smiled, Zoey felt the warmth shoot from her fingers throughout her entire body. Oh my. She needed more witch lessons or she may accidently zap Luke if he kept smiling at her like that. She also needed answers about Ava.
“I look forward to it.”
9
The pull was strong. His body pulsed. The power of witchcraft spun in the air around him. He looked down the mountain at the small town. Somewhere down there was what his body needed. No, his body demanded it. He would find her, for if he didn’t . . .
* * *
Zoey cleaned up the kitchen and scooped Chance out of the fuzzy sheepskin blanket in his basket before starting for Vilma and Agnes’s home. She might be an accidental witch, but she was growing more comfortable with her powers as the day went on. It was hard to explain and even harder to understand, but something about the powers flowing through her felt right. Now she just needed to learn how they worked.
Chance wiggled in her arms and Zoey put the pup down on the ground. He ran around yipping and playing between her legs. As Zoey approached Vilma and Agnes’s house, Chance stopped wiggling. His hair stood in a sharp strip down his back and even down the length of his stiff tail. A low growl emanated from his throat as sharp little puppy teeth were exposed while he snarled into the wind.
Zoey stopped and picked up her puppy. She brought him close to her chest and held him protectively as she picked up her pace. By the time she was at their door, Zoey was practically running as she flung the door open not even bothering to knock. Vilma and Agnes didn’t seem surprised as Zoey panted, all out of breath, and hurriedly locked the door.
“You feel it?” Agnes asked.
Zoey clung to Chance as she tried to get her breathing back under control. Her body shook with the power coursing through her. And was it getting bright in there?
“Duck, she’s going to blow!” Vilma yelled as she and Agnes dove for the floor a second before a bright light shot through the house.
“Oh dear, she’s out again.”
Two fuzzy white heads slowly came back into view as something wet covered Zoey’s face. Chance was standing on her chest, licking her face, as Vilma and Agnes peered down at her.
“What happened?” Zoey asked as she placed Chance onto the ground. “And why is there a white patch of hair on the end of his tail?”
“You had a power surge, hon,” Vilma said, helping her up.
“Shot out of you and right through poor Chance until it left through his tail. Put a humdinger of a spot on my rug too.” Agnes pointed to the hole in her rug that went well beyond the rug. It was a hole straight into the depths of the earth.
“I . . . I did that?” Zoey stammered as she carefully peered down the hole. Somewhere in the depths of the darkness she could hear running water.
“You’re much stronger than we ever imagined. But first lesson, if you make a mess, you clean it up,” Agnes said, picking up Chance and pointing to the crater in the floor.
“How can I possibly—?”
“If you did it, you can undo it,” Vilma lectured. “It’s just like baking. Close your eyes, imagine what it looked like before, and funnel your power.”
Zoey took a deep breath and did exactly what Vilma had told her. When she opened her eyes the floor was fixed as if nothing had ever happened. “Now that there’s no longer a hole in the living room, can someone tell me what that feeling was that came over me before I ran inside?”
Vilma and Agnes shared a silent look. “Someone is coming near and that was a built-in safety mechanism you felt, warning you that danger is near.”
“Who is near?” Zoey asked as she felt a shiver run through her body again.
“The Tenebris. Someone has come to finish the job,” Agnes said ominously.
Zoey blinked as everything she had read about the Tenebris ran through her head. Then she groaned. “They won’t have to search for me. I’ll just light the way straight to me.”
“Not if we teach you how to control it. Agnes, put on a pot of tea. It’s going to be a long night.” Vilma rubbed her hands together, and Zoey was suddenly not so sure of herself after all.
* * *
Zoey was torn between two worlds. The world she’d grown up in and known her entire life and the world Vilma and Agnes had introduced her to over the past few days. As much as Zoey wanted to pretend it was all a dream, her internal witch alarm was denying her the luxury of sticking her head in the ground until she was ready to face the situation.
Zoey flipped the lock to her café as she downed another shot of espresso. Maribelle was jumping from foot to foot and knocking impatiently. Maribelle was normally composed in a low maintenance country girl way but she was completely flustered that morning. Her hair was sticking out in every direction and there were dark circles under her eyes.
“Maribelle, what is it? Are you okay?” Zoey asked as Maribelle pushed through the door and shoved ten dollars into Zoey’s apron pocket.
“There, I’ve paid you a retainer. You’re my attorney now, right?” Maribelle shot an anxious look out the front of the shop as she bounced from foot to foot.
“Mari, I’m not licensed in Tennessee. Slow down and just tell me what’s going on.” Zoey grabbed her friend’s arms to draw her attention away from the windows and back to her.
“Sheriff Weller thinks I murdered Tim. He and Luke are out looking for me right now,” Maribelle said so quickly Zoey was sure she misunderstood.
“Wait, they think you killed Tim? Why would they think that?” Zoey asked as calmly as possible. Maribelle had the crazed look in her eyes that her celebrity client, Scott Westerfield, used to have.
“They already arrested Dale. His mama called me to blame me for getting him wrapped up in this. It’s all because I used to date Ronald Stone, but that ended right before you arrived in town. They think Dale and I worked together—Dale to get the recipes from Tim and me to sell them to Ronald since I know how bad off his company is.”
Zoey crossed her arms over her chest as Maribelle paced the length of the display case. “What evidenced do they have to prove this theory?”
“I don’t know! All I know is th
ey think I masterminded this.” Maribelle gasped, her whole body shaking with fear. Zoey turned to see Luke watching them as he walked past the window toward the door. “Help me, please Zoey,” Maribelle cried as tears began to stream from her eyes.
The door opened as Zoey grasped her best friend’s hand. Luke walked through the door and stopped with his hand resting on the butt of his gun as his face set in frown. “Maribelle, you need to come with me.”
Zoey felt her friend tighten her grip on Zoey’s hand to a near painful squeeze. Maribelle’s whole body shook, and Zoey felt the power inside her surge. The need to protect her friend had her body humming, but lighting up downtown wouldn’t be the way to do so. Zoey took a deep breath and envisioned an old-fashioned mercury thermometer. Vilma had taught her this trick somewhere around two in the morning. The temperature was how close she was to losing it like she did yesterday. In her mind she saw the levels of the thermometer dropping, and as a result Zoey felt her powers change from volcanic to a gentle flow coursing through her.
“Luke, do you really think this is necessary? What evidence do you have to arrest her?” Zoey demanded, stepping in front of her friend as if she could physically protect her.
“We found a copy of one of the recipes at Dale’s house with Maribelle’s name on it,” Luke said seriously. “It matched the recipe that was emailed to Ronald Stone. Ron finally handed over the email when we threatened to arrest him.”
“Which recipe?” Zoey asked.
“Cherry blossom,” Luke told her, reaching for handcuffs.
“That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard,” Zoey said, focusing hard to keep her powers in control. “Maribelle and Dale were in charge of the Mountaineers’ recipe for the moonshine competition. Of course they had copies of it! But so did half the club.”
Moonshine & Murder: Moonshine Hollow Series #1 Page 6
