Read Online Brownies and Broomsticks: A Magical Bakery Mystery by Bailey Cates - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bailey Cates
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the menu design on a blank sheet of paper. Glancing back and forth at the colors of chalk in the box, I tried to imagine what they’d best represent on the board behind the register.
Coffee drinks in white.
Cookies in light blue.
Biscotti in yellow.
Muffins and sweet confections like the cherry-chocolate cupcakes in light pink. Or maybe—
“That was delicious.”
I jumped and turned to find the columnist leaning one hip against the counter beside the register.
Thumpa.
“Um, thanks.”
“I’m not here to make your uncle look bad.”
“Thanks,” I said again.
“In fact, I hope the Honeybee will be a big success.”
“Th—” I bit my lip.
“Because then you’ll be around for a while. And I’d like to get to know you better.”
My brain shouted,
Too slick! Don’t trust him
! But something considerably south of my brain couldn’t have cared less.
“How much do you know about the haunted side of Savannah?” he asked.
“Not much,” I managed to get out.
“Want to know more? Not the tourist traps, mind you. The real deal. I could show—”
“Yoo-hoo!” Mimsey Carmichael’s distinctive Southern tones echoed from the kitchen, followed immediately by the lady herself. Today’s color of choice was turquoise, from the beads around her neck to the surprising blush of blue-green on the toenails peeping out of her sandals. The only incongruity was a tiny blob of white on her shoulder.
“Lord love a duck, what have y’all been getting yourselves involved with? When Jaida told me whathappened yesterday you could have knocked me over with a feather! Thank goodness Lucille called.” When she saw Steve, her mouth snapped shut. Twinkling eyes moved rapidly between us as if we were batting a tennis ball back and forth. Finally they rested on me—and one closed in a conspiratorial wink.
I was sure he’d seen. Crawling under the counter seemed like a good idea, but there wasn’t room. If I’d been a real witch I would have made myself disappear.
“Why, Mrs. Carmichael. What a nice surprise,” Steve said.
Sheesh—did everyone here know everyone else?
Mimsey’s responding titter was tight with nervousness, which surprised me. The older woman struck me as unflappable.
“Another of your book club meetings?” His eyebrows rose and fell a mere fraction.
Mimsey cut a sidelong look in my direction. “Oh, we’re just being supportive friends,” she said. “Lucille called and wanted us to stop by, you see.”
Steve leaned forward.
“We’re going to see what we can do about—”
I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her—and discovered the white blob on her shoulder was slightly sticky.
What the … bird poop? Really?
“Do you have any more questions for me?” Ben said.
“What?” Distracted from Mimsey’s near revelation, Steve turned. “Oh. No, I don’t think so.”
My uncle opened the front door. “We sure do appreciate you including us in your column.”
Steve took the hint, albeit with reluctance, if the lookon his face was any indication. “I’ll check in with you later, okay, Katie?”
I nodded mutely, ignoring the grin on Mimsey’s face, and reached for a napkin to wipe my hand.
She noticed and twisted to look down at her jacket. “Oh, dear. Heckle’s usually so good when he’s on my shoulder. I had no idea he’d gone and made a mess.” Shrugging her jacket off, she said, “Heckle’s my parrot, you see.”
Her parrot. Of course.
Chapter 7
Lucy leaned forward on the poufy brocade sofa and clasped her hands in her lap. “I told Katie this morning.”
Four sets of eyes lasered to where I perched on the arm beside her. I met their curious gazes one by one.
“She’s still getting used to the idea, though.”
“I bet,” Jaida said. Her smile was rueful but kind, as if she really did understand how strange it would be to learn out of the blue that you’re a witch. Or at least that a dear member of your family believes you possess magical
Coffee drinks in white.
Cookies in light blue.
Biscotti in yellow.
Muffins and sweet confections like the cherry-chocolate cupcakes in light pink. Or maybe—
“That was delicious.”
I jumped and turned to find the columnist leaning one hip against the counter beside the register.
Thumpa.
“Um, thanks.”
“I’m not here to make your uncle look bad.”
“Thanks,” I said again.
“In fact, I hope the Honeybee will be a big success.”
“Th—” I bit my lip.
“Because then you’ll be around for a while. And I’d like to get to know you better.”
My brain shouted,
Too slick! Don’t trust him
! But something considerably south of my brain couldn’t have cared less.
“How much do you know about the haunted side of Savannah?” he asked.
“Not much,” I managed to get out.
“Want to know more? Not the tourist traps, mind you. The real deal. I could show—”
“Yoo-hoo!” Mimsey Carmichael’s distinctive Southern tones echoed from the kitchen, followed immediately by the lady herself. Today’s color of choice was turquoise, from the beads around her neck to the surprising blush of blue-green on the toenails peeping out of her sandals. The only incongruity was a tiny blob of white on her shoulder.
“Lord love a duck, what have y’all been getting yourselves involved with? When Jaida told me whathappened yesterday you could have knocked me over with a feather! Thank goodness Lucille called.” When she saw Steve, her mouth snapped shut. Twinkling eyes moved rapidly between us as if we were batting a tennis ball back and forth. Finally they rested on me—and one closed in a conspiratorial wink.
I was sure he’d seen. Crawling under the counter seemed like a good idea, but there wasn’t room. If I’d been a real witch I would have made myself disappear.
“Why, Mrs. Carmichael. What a nice surprise,” Steve said.
Sheesh—did everyone here know everyone else?
Mimsey’s responding titter was tight with nervousness, which surprised me. The older woman struck me as unflappable.
“Another of your book club meetings?” His eyebrows rose and fell a mere fraction.
Mimsey cut a sidelong look in my direction. “Oh, we’re just being supportive friends,” she said. “Lucille called and wanted us to stop by, you see.”
Steve leaned forward.
“We’re going to see what we can do about—”
I put my hand on her shoulder to stop her—and discovered the white blob on her shoulder was slightly sticky.
What the … bird poop? Really?
“Do you have any more questions for me?” Ben said.
“What?” Distracted from Mimsey’s near revelation, Steve turned. “Oh. No, I don’t think so.”
My uncle opened the front door. “We sure do appreciate you including us in your column.”
Steve took the hint, albeit with reluctance, if the lookon his face was any indication. “I’ll check in with you later, okay, Katie?”
I nodded mutely, ignoring the grin on Mimsey’s face, and reached for a napkin to wipe my hand.
She noticed and twisted to look down at her jacket. “Oh, dear. Heckle’s usually so good when he’s on my shoulder. I had no idea he’d gone and made a mess.” Shrugging her jacket off, she said, “Heckle’s my parrot, you see.”
Her parrot. Of course.
Chapter 7
Lucy leaned forward on the poufy brocade sofa and clasped her hands in her lap. “I told Katie this morning.”
Four sets of eyes lasered to where I perched on the arm beside her. I met their curious gazes one by one.
“She’s still getting used to the idea, though.”
“I bet,” Jaida said. Her smile was rueful but kind, as if she really did understand how strange it would be to learn out of the blue that you’re a witch. Or at least that a dear member of your family believes you possess magical
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