Beat Around the Broom

  Beat Around the Broom

  Moonlight Cove Mystery #5

  Samantha Silver

  Evelynne Page

  Blueberry Books Press

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Also by Samantha Silver

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Wake up. Seriously, wake up,” a low, annoyed voice purred from on top of me. I had the blankets yanked up over my head, still curled up with a pillow clutched in my arms. My body might have been slowly drifting back to reality, but my mind was still miles and miles away, floating through a vague but intriguing dream. In my head I was standing on a beach, my toes firmly wriggled into the soft, squeaky white sand. Stretched out in front of me was a seemingly endless body of water, perhaps the Gulf of Mexico. The water was perfectly clear and tinted a bright, shimmery turquoise. In the distance, dolphins leapt majestically out of the waves, and I could feel the tides being rhythmically dragged in and out back to sea. With every ebb and wane of the waves, my body felt more refreshed, more renewed, as though I was being cleansed of my worries and stress. Everything was going to be just fine, as long as I just kept staring out at the water…

  “If you don’t get up right now you won’t have time to make breakfast for your guests. You know, for your job,” my black cat familiar Luna insisted, her sassy voice puncturing straight through my lovely beachy dreamscape.

  I groaned as the beach began to fade away out of my mind to be replaced by the real world around me. I could feel Luna’s tiny little paws poking me as she walked around on top of the pillow covering my chest. She was pouting and sighing dramatically, as she was wont to do.

  “Brat,” I accused her from under the blankets.

  She hissed, scandalized. “Fine! I’ve done my best to help you, but if you want to waste your time in bed and get bad reviews on your bed and breakfast because you left out the whole breakfast part, then that’s your prerogative, I guess.”

  “Why are you yammering on about this right now?” I asked exasperatedly. “It’s not even time to get up yet. I haven’t heard the curtains roll open to let the sunshine in like I charmed them to do in the mornings, and you’ve never cared about my guests, ever.”

  “Uh, well, maybe the spell wore off,” Luna suggested, pawing at my face through the sheets. I rolled my eyes.

  “Wow. Your faith in my skills as a witch is truly inspiring,” I said.

  “I’m just saying. It’s after eight o’clock and those blinds are still closed,” she pointed out. Immediately my stomach flip-flopped and I felt sick.

  “What?” I exclaimed, sitting up in bed so quickly that Luna went tumbling off of me with a very undignified yelp of surprise. The blankets slid back off my head, leaving my hair to stick up in a cockatiel-esque crest as I glanced over at the clock with bleary eyes. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the time. Luna was right. It was a few minutes after eight, but that was definitely still after eight.

  “Shoot!” I swore, swinging my legs off the side of the bed. “I was supposed to wake up an hour ago!”

  “Uh, yeah. That’s what I’ve been saying,” Luna replied, examining her front claws.

  I stared at the curtains in confusion. “Why didn’t they open? I had finally worked out the kinks in my charm I placed on them.”

  “Who knows? Doesn’t the spell have, like, an expiration date or something?” Luna asked.

  I gave her a dubious glare. “Really? You think my spells are so weak that I need to re-do them every few months? It’s not a complicated charm,” I replied, rushing across the room to my en-suite bathroom. Luna hopped off the bed gracefully and came padding after me, her black tail pointing straight up in the air.

  “Hey, I didn’t say that. Your words, not mine.”

  “Either way, you’re not helpful,” I snapped, admittedly a little more harshly than I had intended. But I was stressed out. I had some new guests staying in the bed and breakfast, and it was important that I make a good impression. Especially since most of the five-star reviews left for the place centered around my excellent cooking. These guests were young, which told me they most certainly spent a lot of time on the Internet, and would therefore have read through said reviews. So they were probably expecting some big, fancy breakfast that would blow their minds, and here I was already an hour late even getting started.

  “Well, fine then. Next time I’ll just let you oversleep!” Luna pouted.

  Just as I was about to step into the shower, I turned to look at her. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. Thank you for not letting me sleep even later than I already did. You’re a star. You’re the light of my life and all that. Is that better?”

  Luna gave me the closest thing to a smile her feline face could manage and nodded. “Yes, actually. That’s much better. You should praise me more often, you know? Flattery will get you everywhere with me. I’m a sucker for validation.”

  I snorted as I began to wash my hair. “Takes guts to admit that,” I responded.

  She made a movement that I was pretty sure was the cat equivalent of a shrug. “I’m a cat. It comes with the whole package.” Luna leaped up onto the counter and began preening in front of the mirror. I watched her through the shower glass as I rushed through my wash-up routine, then jumped out and got ready to attempt a drying spell on my hair and body to speed things up.

  “Siccescoroa,” I muttered, waving my finger in a broad motion over myself. To my surprise, a few sparks coughed out the end of my finger in a bright flash of reddish light, nearly burning my bare skin in the process. I was so shocked that I let out a small yelp and jumped back a step. When I reached up to touch my hair, I was confused to find it still dripping wet.

  “What on earth was that?” Luna asked, horrified. She stared at my finger wide-eyed, all the fur along her spine and her tail pricked up in fear. I looked carefully at my finger, wincing in anticipation of it doing something scary again. But it did nothing. It was normal. Or at least it seemed to be.

  “I have no idea. And why didn’t that spell work? I’m still soaked,” I murmured, frowning down at my finger. “I feel so betrayed. Anyway, I guess I’ll just towel-dry and skip the makeup for now. I have to get dressed and get started on breakfast before I run out of time completely.”

  “Good idea. Who cares about your looks? Guests are way more interested in your cooking than your ability to apply a perfectly winged eyeliner,” Luna said, clearly trying to comfort me. But even as I hurriedly pulled on a long-sleeved black sweater dress and leggings - along with my favorite trusty pair of black boots - I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong here. First, my enchanted curtains didn’t slide open like they were supposed to do every single morning. And then my finger doing that weird sparking thing when I tried to cast a spell. What was going on, and how was I supposed to deal with it?

  Nonetheless, I had other things to worry about this morning, so I rushed down the stairs as quickly and quietly as I could so as not to wake my guests, and headed into the kitchen to get started on breakfast. Luna came trotting after me and jumped up onto the counter. Sure, maybe it wasn’t the most sanitary to have my familiar perched up on the counters where I
did my food preparation, but I had learned long, long ago that trying to break Luna of bad habits was about as effective as arranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Perhaps that was part of why she and I got along as well as we did: we were both insanely stubborn.

  “So, what’s on the menu this morning, chef?” she asked me brightly. “And can I help? I mean, I don’t have thumbs, so that does eliminate a lot of tasks from my repertoire, but I do have a pretty handy tail if you want me to stir something. Oh! Or I could use my claws to chop vegetables! Just not garlic, because then my paws will smell like garlic forever and I just can’t have that.”

  “Uh, actually, I think I’m good. You just sit there and look pretty,” I declined politely, not wanting to have to remind her that cat hair was not an ingredient my guests would appreciate. “And I actually planned ahead of time for breakfast today. I found this really luxurious recipe for lobster and brie omelettes in an old cookbook from a friend of my mom’s. She lives in Maine and has an entire cookbook dedicated to lobster,” I said.

  “Wow. Way to lean into the stereotype,” Luna scoffed. “Lobster recipes? From Maine? How original.”

  “That’s pretty stiff criticism coming from a cat who eats the same food every day of her life, you know,” I teased back with a wink. Luna looked utterly offended.

  “Okay, first of all, you’re the one who feeds me, so whose fault is that? Secondly, you don’t mess with perfection,” she reminded me, sticking her nose up in the air snobbishly.

  “Fair enough. As long as you’re happy.” I reached into the fridge for my pre-prepared lobster meat and a block of locally-made brie cheese. Acting on instinct, I pointed my finger absentmindedly toward the cabinets.

  “Aperioroa,” I said, fully expecting the simple household spell to work and for the cabinet doors to swing open. Instead, the cabinet doors swung open for a split second, then began violently slamming closed and open over and over again, making an enormous racket.

  “Oh, I’m out of here,” Luna yelped, nearly face-planting in her haste to jump off the counter and go barreling out of the kitchen.

  “No, no, no,” I muttered, grimacing as I rushed over to close the cabinets manually before the entire household was woken up by the racket. The doors zapped me, almost like a strong static shock, as soon as I touched them, causing me to jump back in surprise. Luckily, my intervention seemed to have made a difference, as they stopped slamming themselves repeatedly, but now I was even more disturbed by my backfiring spells. It wasn’t like these charms were rocket science or anything - they were the simplest household spells used by just about everyone on a daily basis. This was the magical equivalent of going out to check your mail and having your mailbox try to bite your hand off.

  Luna slowly peeked her head around the corner, her great green eyes staring at me in pure horror. I gave her a wordless, stupefied shrug. “You’re not doing that on purpose, right? To scare me?” she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes to slits.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Of course not,” I said, sighing. “I have no clue what’s going on, but it looks like I’m going to have to do everything the manual way this morning, which is very unfortunate. This lobster omelette is super fancy and I’m already running late and-”

  “Hey, hey, calm down,” Luna said, trotting into the kitchen to rub her head against my leg soothingly. “You’ll be okay. You got this. Just pretend you’re some non-magical chef doing things the old-fashioned way. If non-witches can cook without magic, then so can you. It’ll just be annoying, that’s all.”

  I smiled and knelt down to scratch her behind the ears, instantly feeling some of my anxiety ebb away. Sometimes - well, ok, a lot of the time - she could be a pain in the rear, but it was moments like this that reminded me why she was my familiar.

  “Thanks, Lu. I’d better get to work, huh?” I said softly.

  She nodded. “Yup. Get going, chef!”

  Still smiling, I dutifully collected all the ingredients I would need for this dish – no magic involved - and started following the instructions from the Maine cookbook laid out on the counter. This was an elaborate and downright sumptuous dish involving a probably-unhealthy amount of butter, free-range eggs, brie, mascarpone, green onions, diced heirloom tomatoes from my mother’s garden in shades of purple, red, and green, and of course, the star ingredient: lush, thick bites of reddish-pink lobster purchased from the little fish market down by the park yesterday evening. Before long, I had the whole kitchen smelling downright heavenly, even without the use of magic. As it turned out, my hands were perfectly capable of chopping ingredients and whipping eggs into a frothy, creamy mixture on their own. Still, the fact that something was going haywire with my magic nagged at the back of my mind. That was definitely a problem I was going to have to face up to sometime soon.

  “Wow, that smells good. Are you sure you can’t make, like, the world’s tiniest cat-sized omelette on the side for me? With extra lobster?” Luna pleaded, nuzzling my elbow as I used a spatula to neatly flip the omelette in the cast iron pan.

  I raised an eyebrow and gave her an amused smile. “Oh, so now you’re a believer?”

  She smirked. “Yes. Don’t rub it in. I hate being wrong. So, can you?” she asked.

  I burst out laughing, shaking my head. “No! Dr. Wildes would probably have an aneurism if I gave you something as rich as lobster covered in drippy cheese. Do you want to disappoint the veterinarian?”

  “Uh, considering that she’s the demon-woman who gives me my shots, I have to say I don’t particularly put much stock in her opinions of my diet,” Luna quipped bitterly. Truth be told, Dr. Wildes was a fantastic vet and a good friend, but Luna had always been really good at holding a grudge, and she definitely did not like needles.

  “Well, whether you like it or not, she’s the one with the science degree to back her up. Did you go to college to learn what a cat should and should not eat? No, you did not,” I replied. Luna groaned in frustration and pawed at my arm.

  “Come on, I’ve never tried lobster before. Are you really going to deprive me of an enriching dining experience just because I’m a cat? That sounds like discrimination to me,” she accused, leaning in to give the omelette a deep sniff.

  “Nope. Not happening, no matter how much you argue,” I told her as I scooped her off the counter with one arm, still tending the omelette with the other. She dropped to the floor and pranced away, nose in the air.

  Just as she was leaving, I heard the telltale thump-thump of feet on the stairs across the house. My guests were coming down just in time. I quickly plated up the omelettes and threw some sliced persimmon and pear - winter fruits from my mother’s garden - into a couple of little bowls on the side, then walked out to place it all on the table right as my guests were sliding into their chairs. I greeted them cheerfully, they thanked me for the food, and then I promptly retreated back to the kitchen to count my lucky stars that I managed to pull off this breakfast spread despite my apparently malfunctioning magical abilities.

  A moment later, Lara came sliding into the kitchen with a big grin on her face, still wearing her silk pajama set and slippers. “Good morning!” she said, keeping her voice down so as not to disturb the guests eating in the dining room around the corner.

  “Morning,” I replied, cutting the third omelette in half so we could share it. I handed her a plate and she took a big whiff, then let out a seemingly involuntary groan of delight.

  “Holy cow, whatever this is, it looks amazing,” she said, grabbing a fork and shoveling a shockingly huge bite into her mouth. It was always funny to me to catch her in rather unladylike moments, because she was well-known for being such a glamorous movie star. I was happy and relieved to know that underneath the designer clothes and glossy magazine covers, Lara Lancaster was just a regular young woman. Albeit an annoyingly, stunningly gorgeous one.

  “Is this lobster?” she asked, eyes wide and mouth full. I chuckled and nodded.

  “Yup. You like it?” I replied, t
aking a bite myself.

  She nodded vigorously and swallowed. “Arti, this is incredible. I bet it took ages to make, didn’t it?”

  “Actually, it was kind of a pain, but that’s not the recipe’s fault,” I said, launching into an explanation of how my magic hadn’t been working all morning. Lara looked totally stumped by the whole thing. “What about you? Have you noticed anything off?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, no. I used an opening spell this morning, no problem.”

  I sighed, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “So weird. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Maybe I should ask my sister. Diana always seems to know the answer to conundrums like this,” I mused aloud. I pulled out my phone to text her, but to my surprise, the phone started vibrating. The screen lit up to show an incoming call, and when I read the name on the caller ID, my heart skipped a beat. My cheeks instantly started to burn, and Lara noticed.

  “Ooh, who’s that? Your hot detective guy?” she teased, waggling her perfect eyebrows up and down suggestively.

  I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off casually. “Yeah, yeah. It’s him,” I sighed, setting down my plate and turning my full attention to the phone. I slid the screen open, turning away so as not to see Lara giggling at me, and answered.

  “Hey Xander, what’s up?” I said, hoping my voice sounded more chill than I felt.

  Chapter 2

  “Hi. Hey, Arti, how are things? How are you?” Xander’s deep voice came through the phone, and I had to fight harder than usual to keep a smile off my face, especially since Lara was right there, grinning wickedly at me. Ever since I had started dating Xander - totally casually, nothing serious about it, barely more than just friends, of course -I’d gotten no end of Lara’s questions. It was all just good-natured teasing, of course. It didn’t help that Xander had a way of making me blush the more we got to know each other.