Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Ibroke into hysterical laughter. “And how, pray, do you intend for us to do that? Unless you can figure it out by magic, which, by the way, you still haven't explained to me?” I asked the cat.
He gave me a pitying look. “That’s not how it works.”
“No kidding, Sherlock,” I said. Then I stared at him. “You're pulling my leg, aren't you.”
“Why should I do that? Honestly, Bex, you need to stop doubting me and doubting yourself. You can do this.”
“Do what? The baking? You’re really trying to tell me that the reason my spell thingy, whatever, doesn't work is due …”
“Yes. An unsolved murder has released a ton of negative energies, and it appears, because of what the letter said, it’s indirectly linked to your aunt, so it’s affecting you. It’s a bit like a domino effect.”
I stopped laughing. He was serious. “You’re telling me I don’t only need to become a witch overnight –”
“An excellent witch,” he interrupted me.
“Okay, an excellent witch. I now also must rival Sherlock Holmes with you as my Watson?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t so much as blink when I compared him to Watson, so he really meant it.
“Ok. How about we see how far the police have come with their investigation?”
“That's a very good idea,” he said. “I'm glad you're starting to understand.”
“Oh yes.” I didn't mean a word – after all, what did I know about investigating a crime - but if it made him happy, it would make my already crazy life easier.
“Have you forgotten something?” He stopped me before I could leave the kitchen.
“Like what?”
“We haven't finished the baking.”
My mind boggled at this U-turn. “You just told me the reason that I can't get the cookies done right is because I haven't solved the murder yet. And now you want me to try again and fail?”
“We need to have them for the library,” he said. “They’re important, especially for your start. Unlock the bottom drawer.” He jumped to the floor and sauntered over to a kitchen wagon with several drawers underneath. “You'll find the key mixed in with the cutlery.”
I did as I was told. Inside the drawer were several small tins. Each carried a label, “Spice mix 1”, “Spice mix 2”, “Spice mix secret”. “Now what?” I asked him.
“These are our emergency supplies, in case your aunt was taken unwell and didn't have the energy to work her magic.”
I noticed a slight tremble in his voice. In his way, Cosmo appeared to grieve just as much as I did. “Which one do I take, or do I need them all?”
“For now, mix number one will do.”
One hour later, I had three cookie sheets full of cat, dog, and star shaped treats. If I squinted, I noticed the glow, but to an uninitiated, that effect could be attributed to the golden hue of my lemon cookies. As they cooled off, I saw the glow fade, as it sank into the baked goods.
I reached for a star. Cosmo swatted my hand.
“Excuse me? Shouldn’t I test them?”
“They’re not meant for you.”
“Aunt Violet ate hers.”
“Not the special ones. And you can’t afford to nibble something intended to make you feel relaxed and serene.”
“That’s what they’re there for? What about people who are already calm?”
“Different cookie tin, no added magic. That’s the sort Violet had.”
He made me switch equipment to whip up the non-magical batch. Heck, he even allowed me to choose the flavor. I went for my trusted stand-by, chocolate chip, with a few drops of peppermint essence. My mouth watered as I took them out of the oven.
With the all-important baking out of the way, I tidied the kitchen while my mundane cookies rested.
They’d cooled enough for me to snatch one on my way to get changed.
As I’d hoped, they’d come out with a firm crust and a soft inner.
Chocolate and mint mingled on my tongue. My aunt would have loved them.
I pushed that thought aside. If the cat and I were to solve a murder, I needed a firm grip on my emotions, and my brain power.
“Where to first?” I asked him. I owed it to him to take the lead, not only because he’d do it anyway, but also because he let me snap his picture with the shower cap on for my daughter. I’d sent it to Alex to show her how great everything was on my side.
“Normally, I’d say you wait until the library fills with customers and let the cookies help us with interviews. But since we’re still closed, we must start elsewhere.”
“We could take a tin over to the police station. Being neighborly and all.”
“In the middle of an investigation? The dispatcher might accept the gift, but the officers won’t give you the time of day.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“We’ll go where all the gossip happens.”