Witches, Recipes, and Murder Page 5

  She was a few feet from the curb when a brown sedan turned a corner and came barreling down the street. Natalie froze, her head swiveling in its direction as it veered into her lane and aimed right for her.

  "Natalie! Run!" I shouted.

  Hearing her name seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she'd been in, and she took two giant steps, leaping the last foot so that she landed on the sidewalk just as the car crossed over the spot she'd been standing in a moment before. Natalie landed in a heap on the ground, and several bystanders ran over to her. It was a hodgepodge of men and women, old and young alike.

  "Are you all right?"

  "You could have been killed!"

  "He didn't even slow down!"

  "Didn't even honk!"

  "I don't think he saw you!"

  "Neat!"

  That last remark came from a ten-year-old boy wearing a superhero cape. His mother looked mortified and quickly ushered him away from the still-growing crowd.

  I ran over to her and knelt down. Her knees were a bit scraped up, but otherwise, she seemed untouched.

  "Wow, that was close!" I said, helping her up.

  "Yes," she said, pressing her lips firmly together.

  "Did you get the license plate of that guy?" I asked her.

  "No. I missed it."

  I looked around at the crowd. "Did anybody get the license plate number?"

  Everyone sort of looked at each other and shrugged. A thirty-something woman with two tweeners looked at me. "He didn't have a license plate," she said.

  "Are you sure?" I asked.

  She nodded.

  "We should call Sheriff Knoxx," I told Natalie.

  "No!" I shot her a look and her cheeks turned bright pink. "I mean, uh, that's not necessary. I'm fine. No harm done."

  I studied Natalie's face. She was incredibly pale, which was understandable under the circumstances, but there was something in her eyes that made me think she knew more than she was saying.

  "Natalie, that guy could have killed you. Don't you want to report him?"

  "What's to report?" she asked. "I didn't get a good look at him and no one got the license plate number."

  "How do you know it was a him?" I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. "It's a figure of speech."

  I sighed and looked around. The crowd was starting to disperse. Now that everyone knew Natalie was okay, the event suddenly seemed less exciting.

  Natalie brushed herself off. "Look, thanks for stopping to check on me, but I'm okay. Really."

  "Are you sure?" I asked, unconvinced. "The way that guy swerved... It was almost like he swerved toward you."

  The little color still in her face drained away. "What are you saying? That he was trying to hit me?" She laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. Like she didn't really believe what she was saying. "You're letting your imagination run away with you."

  I couldn't imagine why anyone would want Natalie dead. Even though she was the town gossip, she was generally well-liked. Except, of course, by those whose rumors she'd taken a little too far.

  "Well, I guess it's up to you. But I really think that—"

  "Oh, my roses," Natalie said suddenly, drawing her phone from her pocket. "Would you look at the time? I have to go." She hurried away before I could say anything else.

  I sighed and turned back toward Knobs and Broomsticks. Mack was standing there. His face was pale, and his eyes were dark. He backed slowly away, mixing in with the crowd that had formed across the street.

  "Mack!" I called out. "Wait!" I hurried into the street after him and nearly collided with a tourist in a straw hat driving a Cadillac.

  "Watch it!" they yelled at me through their window.

  I jumped out of their way and when I looked up again, Mack was gone.

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

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  I headed over to Coffee Cove. I was already late getting back from lunch and figured a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

  Lucy was behind the counter, as usual, but I didn't see Melbourne or William anywhere. That was probably a good thing since I needed to talk to Lucy and didn't want her getting in trouble for not working. I must have just missed the Cove's lunch rush because there was only one person in line ahead of me.

  I got behind him, and Lucy smiled at me. The guy was taking forever to make up his mind.

  "Oh... gee, I don't know. What's in a latte?"

  "Espresso and steamed milk," Lucy said.

  "Right. And what's in an espresso?"

  Lucy blinked. I tried not to laugh. "Um... espresso," Lucy said. She was gritting her teeth together.

  "I don't know," the guy said again. He looked about sixteen or seventeen years old, with big dark glasses and a pointy nose. "I guess I'll just get a regular coffee." Lucy nodded. "Actually, I think I'd like to add steamed milk to that."

  "So, you want a latte?" Lucy said.

  "No, just plain coffee with steamed milk. And maybe some vanilla."

  "That's a vanilla latte."

  "It is?" he asked. "Oh. Well, then yes, I'd like a vanilla latte, please." He paid for his order and went to stand by the sugar dispenser. Lucy passed the order off to a teenage barista who looked like he needed some coffee himself. His eyes kept shutting.

  "I'm not really here for coffee," I told her. There was still no one else in line behind me. "I'm here for your opinion. You'll never believe what just happened."

  She lifted one eyebrow. "You and Colt finally set a date for your wedding."

  I blinked and shook my head.

  Lucy shrugged.

  "It was a good guess. It's bound to happen sooner or later."

  "Lucy..." I started to tell her that I was still wavering on the date. Sometimes I wanted to make it as soon as possible. Other times, the further away the better. I couldn't decide, and it was driving Colt crazy. Especially since I'd already told him a few times now that I'd made a decision, only to change my mind again later.

  "Hey," Lucy said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that."

  "It's okay," I told her. "You're right, sooner or later it's bound to happen. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to tell you." I leaned in toward her and looked around the coffee shop to make sure no one was standing close enough to hear. The tables all had silencing charms around them, but the counter was open territory.

  "Natalie Vargas almost got hit by a car."

  Lucy's eyes went wide. "When?"

  "Like twenty minutes ago. This guy came out of nowhere and tried to run her down."

  "Tried to run her down?" she asked. "You're making it sound like they did on purpose."

  I shrugged. "It sure looked that way."

  Lucy's mouth dropped open. "You're not serious," she said.

  "I'm just telling you what I saw."

  "What did Natalie say about it? Did she know the guy who did it?"

  "No. At least, she said she didn't. She also claimed she didn't get the license plate, didn't see the guy driving, and thinks it was just an accident."

  "Maybe it was."

  "If you'd seen the way this car swerved toward her like he was aiming for her, there's no way you'd think it was an accident."

  "But who would want to kill Natalie? She's a pain, I know, but murder her? That's a bit hard to swallow."

  I shrugged. The few people sitting at tables glanced our way at the mention of murder.

  "Maybe this isn't the place to talk about this," I said.

  Lucy looked around and saw the teenage barista leaning against the counter with his eyes half closed.

  "Hey, Ben, I'll be right back," Lucy said and grabbed a bag of trash from under the counter. Ben nodded and continued leaning, having already handed off the vanilla latte to the guy who'd ordered it.

  "Come on," Lucy said to me. "No one ever goes into the alley. The trashcans stink up the place. We
can talk out there, and no one will bother us."

  I wrinkled my nose. "Sounds perfect."

  She laughed and went through a door to the back room. I followed her. We walked through a small room that served as both a break room and a storage area. There were a couple of tables with chairs scattered around them, a counter, a microwave, and tons of boxes. I knew that Melbourne and William shared an office off to the side, but it didn't seem like either of them were in it right now. I supposed that was the privilege of being an owner—you got to take time off whenever you wanted.

  I realized that I was guilty of the same thing. I owned one-third of The Mystic Cupcake—the third my mother would have gotten if she'd still been alive—and my lunchtime break was extending far beyond the norm. Eleanor and Trixie would be livid when I returned. They were probably starving. I'd do well to bring a round of Brass Monkeys back with me.

  "Okay," Lucy said, opening up the back door leading to the alley. "So, what about this guy you think tried to run down Natalie?" She threw the bag of trash into the dumpster and leaned against the brick wall. "Who do you think it was?"

  "No idea," I told her and searched my pockets for some candy. I was getting pretty hungry, too, I realized. I found my debit card which I'd forgotten was there, a crumpled-up Kleenex, and no candy.

  "So...?" Lucy prompted.

  I looked up at her and absently tossed the Kleenex into the dumpster.

  "So?" I asked.

  "So, what's making you so paranoid all of a sudden? This isn't about that note Natalie got when you two had coffee the other day, is it?"

  "No," I said, then paused. "At least, I don't think so." It hadn't occurred to me that those two things might be connected. "Then again, whatever that note said freaked her out. And if you'd seen her today after that car nearly collided with her, you'd know she was freaked out even more."

  "Well yeah, but that could've just been because a car almost collided with her," Lucy said, exasperated.

  I frowned. Lucy wasn't known for being the voice of reason. If she thought I was overreacting, then maybe I was.

  "Oh, crud," I said suddenly and felt my eyes pop open.

  "What?"

  "I think I just threw my debit card in the dumpster."

  Lucy broke into laughter. "What'd you do that for?"

  "I didn't do it on purpose," I told her. "I was throwing out my Kleenex and you distracted me." I sighed and went over to the edge of the dumpster, which smelled bad but not as bad as Lucy had led me to believe it would.

  "You're not going in there," she said.

  "Of course, I am."

  "You're nuts."

  "I need my card."

  "Get a new one."

  "That'll take a week." I stood on my tiptoes and tried to peer over the side. "Maybe it's just sitting on top. If I can see it, I might be able to just—"

  My voice froze. My blood went suddenly cold.

  "Lucy?" I squeaked.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "I think we need to call Sheriff Knoxx."

  "Why?" She hurried over to my side and peeked over the side of the dumpster with me. Her eyes widened as much as mine. Her voice grew soft. "Oh, my roses. Is that...?"

  "A body," I finished for her.

  "Whose body?" she said. "I'm not sure I recognize him."

  "I do," I told her. "His name's Mack Heathrow. He owns that bar outside of town." I stepped back from the dumpster, and Lucy stepped back with me.

  "I'll call the sheriff," she said.

  "I'll call Colt."

  There was a noise at the end of the alley. It wasn't super clear, but it sounded kind of like footsteps. Both our heads snapped around, searching the garbage-laden pathway for its source.

  "What was that?" Lucy asked, her voice even softer.

  "I don't know. Let's get back inside though, before we find out."

  * * *

  CHAPTER

  NINE

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  "Murder," Lucy whispered to me at the sheriff's station. "I can't believe it. Who would want to murder that poor guy?"

  We were sitting at Sheriff Knoxx's desk waiting to give our statements. The sheriff's station itself wasn't very large—Sweetland Cove was a small town, after all. It had a handful of cells and three interrogation rooms, two of which were generally used for storage.

  "I don't know," I whispered back to her and almost told her that Mack had come to see me the other night. Sheriff Knoxx walked in just then, though, and I decided to hold my story for later.

  "All right," Sheriff Knoxx said. "Lucy, I called Melbourne and William. They're on their way down to the Cove. Ava, I called your Aunt Eleanor. Your dad wasn't there, he had a lunch date with Sadie and left the bakery a little while ago, but Eleanor said she'd fill him in for me."

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, he'd called Eleanor. They were married, and married couples told each other everything. The last thing I needed right now, though, was Eleanor worrying over nothing. I wasn't hurt or in danger, but now she'd be so worried that she'd have Trixie and my dad worried, too.

  "Relax," Sheriff Knoxx said. "I told her she didn't need to come down here and that you were both fine."

  "Thanks," I said, slightly relieved. Everyone in Sweetland would know what had happened within the hour anyway. I suppose if he hadn't called her, someone else would have.

  "Now then," the sheriff continued, "I need you both to tell me exactly what happened. What made you look in the dumpster to begin with? Did you hear something?"

  "I threw my debit card in there," I told him and blushed. "Accidentally, of course."

  He scratched his head. "So, you went into the dumpster to get it and discovered the body?"

  "No!" I squealed. "I didn't go in the dumpster, I just looked in the dumpster. I thought the card might be sitting on top or something and I could just grab it."

  "I see," he said and wrote something down in his notepad. "What else?"

  "That's it," I told him, and we both shrugged.

  "You didn't see anything? Hear anything?"

  "Well, there was a noise..." Lucy said. "But we didn't see anyone."

  "What sort of noise?"

  She looked at me. "Like heavy footsteps," she said and I nodded.

  "Yeah, but we didn't see anything. We just got out of there."

  His brow furrowed. "Are you sure there's nothing else you're leaving out? Did either of you know the victim?"

  "Mack?" I blurted out without thinking.

  Sheriff Knoxx's head swiveled in my direction. "So, you did know him."

  For some reason, I felt like he was interrogating me rather than just taking my statement. I looked at Lucy and could tell she was feeling the same way.

  I bit my bottom lip, another trait I shared with my aunts. "Not really. I've met him... once or twice."

  "When? Where?"

  "He's been to the bakery," I told him. He didn't look convinced.

  Colt walked in just then. He came straight over to me and kissed me. I immediately felt more at ease, even though Sheriff Knoxx was staring at me like he had X-ray vision and was trying to see my insides.

  "Are you okay?" Colt asked and looked from me to Lucy. "Both of you, I mean."

  We nodded our heads.

  "Lucy was just about to tell me how she knew Mack Heathrow," Sheriff Knoxx said, cutting in.

  "I already told you," I snapped.

  "He came into the bakery, sure. Makes sense," Sheriff Knoxx said sarcastically. "It's awfully convenient, though, don't you think?" He was puffing out his chest. "Have you ever been to his bar?"

  I froze, not sure what to say. For some reason, telling him that Mack had asked for my help seemed like a bad idea. He was already looking at me suspiciously. Even though he was married to my aunt, I knew he wasn't above locking me up if he thought I was hiding something. It was the goblin in him—he was one-eighth goblin or somethi
ng like that, and it gave him a real "shoot first, ask questions later" sort of attitude when it came to his job, though he rarely shot people. He preferred interrogating them.

  "Well?" Sheriff Knoxx said, raising his voice. "Have you? And where were you before going to Coffee Cove, because I know you weren't at the bakery. Eleanor confirmed that for me. She said you were late getting back from lunch, and she didn't know where you'd gone off to till I called her."

  "Um," I said.

  He folded his arms across his chest. "Why were you late? What were you doing?"

  "Now hold on," said Colt, coming to my defense. "What do you think you're doing? You don't think Ava had something to do with Mack's death, do you? What would Eleanor say if she knew you were questioning Ava like this?"

  Sheriff Knoxx paused. "I have to question everyone. It's part of my job. Eleanor knows that."

  "I was with Natalie Vargas," I suddenly blurted out, deciding that answering one question meant I could more easily sidestep another.

  I didn't want anyone to know that I was supposed to be meeting with Mack until I found out more about who'd killed him and why. When he'd come to the bakery, he'd said he had something that people were after. What was the thing they were after, and where was it now?

  "Since when do you and Natalie Vargas hang out?" Sheriff Knoxx asked.

  Colt was looking at me curiously. "Yeah," he said.

  I shot him an irritated look.

  "We weren't hanging out. I was in front of Knobs and Broomsticks and saw Natalie almost run down by a crazy tourist when she tried to cross the street. I went to help her. That's why I was late getting back from lunch."

  "Was she hurt?" Colt asked.

  "Can she confirm this?" asked the sheriff.

  "No, she wasn't hurt. And yes, she can confirm this."

  Sheriff Knoxx made another note in his notepad. "Did anyone get the license plate?"

  "No, but he was driving a brown sedan."

  "Make? Model?" he asked