Bonbons and Broomsticks

  Bonbons and Broomsticks

  Pacific Cove Mystery #4

  Samantha Silver

  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

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue: Three Months Later

  Also by Samantha Silver

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  I was reasonably certain I had messed something up with this recipe. After all, chocolate wasn’t supposed to come to life and start dancing on the counter.

  “Oh boy. What did I do wrong?” I asked as four truffles sprouted arms and guitars and began singing a country ballad. Honestly, it could have been anything. I was just getting over a cold, and I knew I probably should have waited an extra day before making chocolates again—not only was my brain still feeling a little bit fuzzy, but my sore throat meant my words weren’t always incanted properly—but I had been feeling cooped up and was getting a little bit stir-crazy.

  I figured surely a simple batch of chocolates with soothing properties couldn’t hurt.

  Obviously, my magic had come up with chocolates with singing properties instead.

  Another quartet of truffles jumped from the cauldron, this time dressed in little miniature colorful ponchos and sombreros. They were a little chocolate mariachi band, and I had to admit, these ones were pretty cute.

  They immediately began playing their song, and I watched as they danced along to it, wondering how on earth I was going to reverse this.

  The next truffles to escape from the cauldron were a group of female truffles from the nineties with a real Spice Girls vibe. They ran along the counter, singing into their microphones while leaning down and touching the hands of invisible fans. I had to say, the mixture of the different songs was starting to get on my nerves.

  “What on earth is this?” my sister Andy said as she made her way into the room, covering her ears. “What happened?”

  “I messed up a spell and now my chocolate is singing,” I replied with a shrug.

  “I’m not sure ‘singing’ is the best descriptor,” Andy replied, scowling at the chocolates. “‘Screeching’ might be a tad more accurate.”

  She looked over at one of the country-singing chocolates, thumped a fist on top of him, crushing him completely, and then picked him up and popped him in her mouth. The other singers all stopped, stared at Andy, and began running around in circles, panicked, their little chocolate arms waving around in the air. One of the mariachi singers collided with one of the pop stars, and the former’s sombrero fell off his head and onto the counter, abandoned.

  Another of the country singers ran around aimlessly as he looked up at Andy, playing the Grendel who wanted to eat them all, and forgot about the edge of the counter. He careened off the edge, a high-pitched shriek following him down as he plummeted to the ground, the noise stopping when he hit the floor with a soft ‘thud.’

  “Now look what you’ve done,” I scolded Andy as I picked the country singer truffle off the ground before my familiar Sherlock could get to it. “You’ve caused chaos and panic in the singing truffle community.”

  Andy laughed. “Oh please. It’s not like they’re actually alive.”

  “I know, but they’re so lifelike, it kind of feels like you’re murdering them.”

  “Delicious, delicious murder,” Andy said, plucking a struggling mariachi band member from the table and dropping him into her mouth.

  “You probably shouldn’t eat them anyway. I don’t know what I did wrong with the potion, and so I don’t know what other negative effects it might have.”

  “You were always way too nervous about things,” Andy replied, waving away my worries. “I’m sure there won’t be any ill effects from this at all.”

  I raised an eyebrow as I looked at her. “Do you know how many people have ended up in the hospital because of magic gone wrong?”

  “Of course I do. But don’t worry, I’m sure this is fine.”

  “Right. Based on absolutely no facts whatsoever.”

  “Hey, if there was anything wrong with the chocolate don’t you think I’d already be showing symptoms?”

  “No, because that’s not at all how magical poisoning works. Did you not pay any attention in your concoctology classes?”

  Andy shrugged. “I mean, it was all pretty boring anyway. Fine. If anything weird happens, you’re allowed to say ‘I told you so.’ But until then, I get to eat these singing truffles. They’re actually delicious.”

  “Whatever, I’m not Mom, I’m not going to stop you,” I replied, rolling my eyes. Andy’s face lit up and she scooped up the remaining truffles and popped them into her mouth. I shook my head as I started cleaning up the kitchen after my baking. I had a few orders to fill, but given what had just happened with this set of truffles, I was going to be waiting another day or so before I worked on them. I figured it was safer for everyone that way.

  The last thing I wanted was for customers to complain that their chocolate had mysteriously come to life when it wasn’t supposed to.

  As I cleaned up the kitchen, a wave of melancholy came over me. I knew exactly where it was from, too: the mention of my mother. She and Dad had been in Spellcatraz, the notorious prison that held captive witches and wizards convicted of a crime, for months now. They had admitted to fraud, which made no sense whatsoever, since they were the most honest people I had ever met. I knew they were innocent, but proving it was a whole other story.

  I had gotten close, and I was getting closer. In fact, just last week I had found out that Las Brujas, the gang that was behind my parents’ arrest, had been using the portal set up in the factory to transport contraband without being seen.

  I knew that Alex, the special enforcer from Bruxspells with his sexy French accent, was on the case. But that wasn’t enough. I was the one who lived about a hundred yards from the factory. I was the one whose parents had been unfairly locked up, their reputations destroyed and their company taken from them. I was going to find proof that my parents were innocent, and I was going to free them.

  I was this close to getting the proof I needed, and nothing was going to stop me. Nothing.

  Chapter 2

  Of course, my plan to find the people who were sneaking contraband and get them to tell me who was in charge had one minor issue: in the past week, no one seemed to be using the factory portal at all. Maybe they had been spooked off when we had confronted a murderer in there. Maybe they had decided to leave a little bit of time before coming back.

  I sighed at the thought. Hopefully the gang members would come back soon. Finding them and identifying them was basically the entirety of my plan so far, and if they abandoned my family’s portal completely, well, my entire plan went out the window and I was going to have to start from scratch.

  “What’s wrong?” Andy asked, and I shook my head.

  “Nothing,” I lied. “Just getting over this cold. I was thinking I might run down to the grocery store and get some food for tonight.”

  “Sounds good,” Andy said. “I’m working the night shift tonight, so I’ll be out of here by nine.”

  I nodded and shout
ed down the hall. “Does anyone here want to go for a walk?”

  Straightaway the pitter-patter of little feet began thundering down the hall. Sherlock, my corgi familiar, came flying around the corner, his little legs moving as fast as they would carry him. He sprinted toward me, not coming to a stop until the last second. But, because he never seemed to get used to the hardwood floor, instead of actually stopping a second earlier than he had to, his little paws continued to slide on the wood until he slid right into my leg.

  “Whoops, overshot that one a little bit,” Sherlock said. I was kind enough not to point out that he overshot it every single time, but it wouldn’t have mattered even if I had. Sherlock ran straight from me to the front door, spinning around like a crazy dog as I laughed and grabbed his leash.

  “Alright, we’re just going to the grocery store,” I told him.

  “I love the grocery store. There are always friends to say hello to at the front who are also waiting for their witches and wizards to come out, and all sorts of paranormal friends, too.”

  “Good, I’m glad you like it,” I said, smiling down at my dog. I opened the door and then grabbed the leash, with Sherlock darting straight out the door and toward the fence at the end of our property before making a U-turn and sprinting right back toward me.

  “Come on, Megan. Come on! Don’t be so slow!”

  “Alright, alright,” I laughed. “I’m coming.”

  It was only about a five-minute walk to the grocery store downtown, but with Sherlock in tow it took a little bit longer. After all, he had to sniff every brick, plant, and fence post we passed along the way.

  Finally, however, we reached the grocery store and I clipped the leash to his collar and attached it to the dedicated dog post near the entrance where, sure enough, there were already three familiars sniffing butts and wagging tails together while they waited for their owners.

  Sherlock was already ignoring me and saying hi to a pure black standard poodle as I hooked his leash around the post and went inside. Grabbing a basket, I began perusing the aisles, hoping that something would inspire me. Maybe this would be a good night to make a chili, or something.

  I eventually settled on chicken tacos, and as I made my way into the next aisle to get the vegetables I’d need, I saw a familiar flash of grey hair.

  “Grace!” I called out, and the witch in front of me turned, her face breaking into a beaming smile. The old witch was short and had eyes that twinkled when they looked at me.

  “Megan. How are you? How is business?”

  “Things are good, thanks,” I replied. “Actually, they’re quite busy.”

  “Excellent. I’m not surprised. You’ve got a knack for making chocolate.”

  “If only that was everything that went into it,” I said with a laugh. “Actually, making the chocolate is the easy part. It’s keeping up with orders, going out on sales calls, and that sort of thing that’s taking up way too much of my time and driving me crazy.”

  “Ah, it sounds as though you’re going to have to hire someone to help you with those sorts of things,” Grace said.

  “But who? How?” I asked. “I don’t have any business experience, really. I’ve just been winging it so far, but hiring someone is a big step. I don’t want to make a mistake.”

  Grace looked at me kindly. “Dear, you’re almost certainly going to make mistakes. That’s a part of life. It’s how you react to the mistakes that determines how successful you’re going to be.”

  I sighed. “I don’t want to make a mistake, though. What if I ruin my entire business?”

  “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that starting a business is a risky venture? You’re a smart cookie, with a good head on your shoulders. You remind me a lot of your mother, and she grew one of the biggest businesses in the entire paranormal world. Besides, you’re now established as a businesswoman in the paranormal world. It’s not going to sink overnight. If you make a mistake, you fix it, and you pivot. Always remember, nearly every mistake in life is fixable. It’s not permanent. You address it, you fix it, and you move on.”

  I nodded. The pep talk from Grace was helping. “Ok. So you think I need to hire someone.”

  “I do,” Grace said.

  “Are you looking for a job, by any chance?” I asked with a smile, and Grace shook her head.

  “Oh no, dear. I’m afraid I’ve become quite comfortable with retirement. Besides, my skills lie in the creation of chocolate. I’d be quite the awful saleswitch.”

  “Well, that’s too bad,” I said. “If you ever want it, the job is yours.”

  “Thank you, dear. I do appreciate the offer, but I’m sure you can find someone far better at it than me.”

  Grace and I spoke for a few more minutes, then split up to do our shopping individually. I settled on chicken tacos with a mango salsa—after all, with the warm summer season now upon us, mangoes felt like the perfect addition to the meal—and gathered up all of my ingredients before heading toward the register.

  I spotted Grace also walking toward the cashier with her goods, and she had just placed her basket down on the conveyor belt and was beginning to unpack it when a tall elf rushed over from behind her. “Hey, you! That’s my spot!”

  Grace turned slowly to see the elf, who looked rather young by elven standards, with long, brown hair that cascaded down his back and black, deep-set eyes, rush over. He grabbed her basket and shoved it to the side violently, causing half of Grace’s vegetables to fall out and onto the ground.

  “Hey!” I said, striding over there. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “This old witch took my spot,” the elf snapped, throwing down some bananas and frozen orange juice in front of Grace. “I was here first. I just forgot to grab the bananas, so I had to rush off for a minute.”

  “Well, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” Grace said firmly but politely. “As you didn’t leave anything on the conveyor, I didn’t realize you thought this was your spot.”

  “Of course it was my spot, you idiot.” I was busy picking up a couple of carrots off the ground for Grace, but when the elf started calling her names, I’d had it.

  “Alright, that’s enough. Apologize to Grace right now,” I ordered, placing myself between the two of them. It was one thing to be irrationally angry that someone had accidentally stepped in front of him in the line—although, personally, I was of the opinion that if you didn’t leave anything in the checkout line, you forfeited your spot—but it was another entirely to start calling her names.

  I was far from the most confrontational witch in the world, but this elf had crossed a line.

  “Get out of my way, witch,” the elf told me. “This doesn’t involve you.”

  “You’re being needlessly abusive to my friend,” I replied. “That does involve me. It was an honest mistake. Now go, check out with your two things, and get out of here.”

  The elf sneered at me. “Or what?”

  Or what? That was a good question. I was so far out of my comfort zone here, I had absolutely no idea. What did someone do in this situation? Call security? Did the small grocery store in Pacific Cove even have security? I had my doubts.

  “Or else I’ll call the manager over,” I said, and the words sounded lame even as I said them. Wow, I was totally not cut out to be a badass.

  The elf laughed. “Oh, I’m so terrified. Fine, I’ll go. But I hope you’ve learned your lesson, old witch. Pay more attention to your surroundings in the future.”

  I glared at the elf’s back as I helped Grace pick up the rest of her food and put it on the conveyor belt. A couple of other paranormals came over and helped as well, and when the elf left, the cashier looked over at Grace.

  “Would you like to replace all those with new vegetables?” she asked, but Grace shook her head.

  “Thank you, but no. A quick cleaning spell will get rid of anything nasty that’s gotten on them, and I’d rather not waste food.”

  “Alright. I’m sorry for what happe
ned,” the cashier said, but Grace waved her apology away.

  “Not to worry. Perhaps he’s just been having a bad day. You never know.”

  Grace’s relaxed manner in the face of such hostile aggression was incredible. It was like there wasn’t a thing in the world that could faze her. I was extremely impressed. I wasn’t sure I would have handled the situation nearly as well as she did.

  “Who was that elf, anyway?” I asked, but I was met with blank stares and shrugs. “He can’t have been from here, then.”

  “No, I don’t think he is,” the checkout clerk said. “But the elves are having a large reunion of some sort this weekend. I overheard a couple of them talking about it yesterday. Something to do with what part of the world they were born in.”

  “Oh, yes, I think I saw an article about that in the local paper the other day,” Grace said, nodding. “Every elf born in Washington State, regardless of their age, is coming to Pacific Cove to have a celebration of their origins. I believe it’s all supposed to start this weekend, so he must be one of the first arrivals.”

  “Well, if they’re all like that, they can stay home as far as I’m concerned,” I muttered.

  “I’m sure that elf was just having a bad day,” Grace said, patting my arm gently. “Now, I’m going to be heading home. I’ll see you later.”

  “Sure thing,” I said, nodding in reply as the fairy cashier began to scan through my items as well.

  Chapter 3

  “What are we having for dinner?” Sherlock asked excitedly as I unclipped his leash and we began the walk back home.