Fatal Fudge is releasing on Friday!!! October 9th – only 4 days! Keep reading for the first chapter =)
***SNIP BEGINS***
“Lina, meet Magic Beans’ new barista.” Bastian indicated the lanky man behind the counter.
I scrutinized the new addition. He was tall, lean, possibly early thirties, with light brown hair in a bun. But those details were unimportant. I waited for him to make eye contact. When he did, I didn’t spot any lurking vengeance in his soft brown gaze.
But it never hurt to ask. “You’re not secretly a murderer, are you?”
His eyes widened, and he shot Bastian a panicked look.
Bastian’s lips twitched. “And you wonder why we can’t keep staff? Quit harassing Boris. He only started yesterday, and he’s been in Boise less than a week.”
“What happened to Jami?” Jami hadn’t been the epitome of all things perfect when it came to baristas, but she’d been a solid addition to the coffee shop. Didn’t quite have the much coveted “feel” for coffee, but she’d brewed a decent light roast and remembered my milk choice. Macadamia nut with my morning coffee, because yum, and a dollop of cream with my afternoon espresso, because delish.
“Quit to…” He muttered something almost unintelligible.
“Did you say join the circus?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. As unlikely as that might seem. I’m supposed to tell anyone who asks that it’s a nontraditional circus focusing on performance art, and no animals are used.”
“Uh, okay.” I snorted. “You lost a barista to the circus. You guys really do have a staffing problem. You should use your revolving door as a hiring gimmick. Ready for your life to move in a whole new direction? Join Magic Beans! We may not have the perfect position for you, but you’re sure to find it when you leave us.”
“Not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“I can always ask Sabrina to come back.” He cocked an eyebrow.
Even in jest, that thought created a twinge of discomfort. Sabrina used to work full-time for Magic Beans, but recently she’d joined me at Sticky Tricky Treats as a junior partner/sales assistant and only worked as the occasional fill-in at Magic Beans.
She liked Sticky Tricky Treats, the schedule and the work, so I didn’t anticipate her leaving anytime soon. Also, I suspected she had a teensy crush on our temporary addition. My cousin Bryson’s recent hockey injury had him on crutches, but he’d been regularly lending a hand at the register during peak hours…and Sabrina happened to be showing up for those same peak hours even if she wasn’t scheduled.
But regardless of Sabrina’s various motivations to stay, I was in the midst of my busiest month. I owned a Halloween-themed candy shop, and it was October. “You win. Not funny, and I’m very, very sad about your revolving door of baristas.”
“Better.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t we on a date? Shouldn’t you be trying to impress me?”
He grinned. “This is the pre-date. I’m saving my best conversational skills for dinner.”
Bastian and I had gone out a few times over the last week and a half. Today was Wednesday, just a few days before Halloween, and we were both enjoying the peaceful interlude we’d been granted. Not on the business front, but the criminal one. Boise had been free of murderous plots and misbehaving criminals, and it had been heavenly. The universe (specifically the local witchy lawbreakers) had allowed us time to squeeze in a few low-key dates between both our busy work schedules.
It’s funny how events will change one’s perspective. I considered the absence of demons and vengeful witches the equivalent of blissful low drama these days.
Having my cousin Bryson in town had been a blessing. (He claimed knee rehab could happen as easily here as in Austin, though I had suspicions of a secret motivation.) He was happy to help at STT, which meant I could occasionally sneak away early, like for tonight’s late dinner date.
Getting to know Bastian under less stressful circumstances had felt like a luxury after the, ah, hectic circumstances surrounding our introduction. Except I had a feeling that we were in the calm before the storm.
Since I’d spent every last minute that I wasn’t minding the shop either making candy or with Bastian pursuing my belated witch training, I knew better than to ignore that feeling.
“You have that look.” Bastian accepted the plain black coffee Boris handed him and my evening caffeine preference, espresso with a dollop of cream. He tipped his head in the direction of his office. “Let’s talk.”
Turned out, my intuition was spot-on, though not interested in giving me much of a head start. As we walked into Bastian’s office, Miles flew through the back door. “I have news.”
I sank into my favorite spot on Bastian’s sofa. Sitting would be best; I could already tell.
“I think I found a connection between two crimes.” He was panting, but not terribly. With prodding, he’d started running with Bastian recently. It was one, probably his only, attempt to offset the hours he spent behind his desk as the local International Criminal Witch Police research and transport expert. “A magical connection.”
“You ran here?” It was obvious he had, but I had to ask. If it was so pressing, why hadn’t he just called?
“Um, yeah. Faster than driving. Bastian has his ringer turned off. Was hoping to catch him before you guys went to dinner.”
Surprised, I turned to Bastian. “Your ringer is off?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Yours isn’t?”
I couldn’t help a small smile. He could be really sweet. And it was the small things, like not letting work disturb our scheduled date, that I appreciated the most. “I turned my ‘do not disturb’ on, but I’m not the lead ICWP detective.”
“Sabrina’s available. I double-checked when we arranged our date.” He flicked a glance at Miles.
It was a good guess that he’d told Miles to call Sabrina if there was trouble, but I couldn’t blame Miles. He’d worked with Bastian for years, and I knew for a fact that Bastian hadn’t had much of a personal life before I came along. It was probably hard for Miles to change habits after so long.
I reached my hand out. He was still standing in the middle of the office, so he only had to take a single step to grasp my fingers. I tugged, trying to pull him into the seat next to mine.
With a quick grin, he settled next to me on the sofa and draped his arm behind me. Then he was all business. “What crimes? And how are they magically connected?”
“A nun robbed a liquor store, and a kindergarten teacher punched a pedestrian.”
I stared at him. “Is that supposed to be the beginning of a joke? A really terrible joke?”
His breath was almost back to normal, a much-improved recovery rate over the last mad dash to Magic Beans I’d witnessed. “Joke? No. I’m totally serious. But it was their improbability that tipped me off.”
“A nun, not a person wearing a nun costume?” Bastian asked.
“No, real nun. Real kindergarten teacher. A local reporter saw dollar signs with the headline possibilities, which is how it came to my attention.”
“And you did some digging,” Bastian said.
“You know it, boss, and I found some unusual similarities in the cases. Both the nun and the teacher claim to have no memory of their illegal acts. They also seem confused about the crimes themselves. The teacher doesn’t have a history of violence.”
“And the nun no regular habit of theft.” Bastian looked at me.
I knew it. I’d had the feeling that a storm was coming, and this was it. “It’s my fudge.”
Bastian replied, “It’s possible.”
Miles winced. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Lina. After you and Bastian told me, I’ve had an eye out. These crimes were so unlikely, and then when I looked at the facts, they fit with your missing fudge.”
My missing mind-control fudge.
When I’d first learned of the latest in a series of magic candy mistakes, I’d immediately alerted Bastian and my great-aunt. Bastian was head of the local witch police force and my great-aunt was my magical mentor.
We’d put our heads together and tried to track the candy. We’d even used Bastian’s magical navigation app. I guess it wasn’t a huge surprise when it failed. The thing hadn’t alerted us to the fact that there were three demons in town instead of one when Bastian had been tracking the bloodsuckers on our last case.
Great-Aunt Sophia had still been impressed by Bastian’s ability to combine magic and technology, a wizardly trick she claimed no witch could master half so well.
I, on the other hand, just wanted my fudge back. Or destroyed. Either way, so long as it wasn’t being used by evil-minded witches. What was with the witchy community? They bumped into a little raw magic and automatically started plotting evil deeds. It was disheartening to think that was the world I lived in now.
“You have that sad unicorn look right now.” Miles frowned. “I thought you’d be happy that I found it. That’s good news, right? And no one’s dead.”
He said it with such enthusiasm, as if the absence of murder were as great a treat as a large bag of Holland mints. A lack of homicide shouldn’t be a bonus. It should be the norm.
But I needed to throw the guy a bone. He looked pretty disappointed that I wasn’t happier over his find. “You’ve done a great job, Miles. Thank you.”
“But…?”
“Let’s say my fudge was used. Did the teacher lose her job? Is the nun going to jail?” I could see the light of understanding flickering in his eyes. Poor guy.
His job was mostly about solving the puzzle. It made him a great researcher, and he loved that part of working with ICWP. Also, he wasn’t without empathy. Miles was a really great guy. But the plight of the nonmagical victims of witchy shenanigans, even those that didn’t involve murder, wasn’t his first thought. Likely, not his second or even third.
“Wow, that really sucks.” He rubbed his scruffy jaw. “If they’re innocent, I mean.”
“Exactly.” And now he got it. “Do I really look like a sad unicorn?”
Miles and Bastian both made affirmative noises.
Bastian squeezed my shoulder. “Only when you’re disappointed by the witch world.”
“There’s a lot to be disappointed about.” I got a glimpse of what a sad unicorn might look like, because Miles was doing an excellent impression, except he seemed more puppy than unicorn to me. “Not that there aren’t wonderful things—wonderful people—as well. It’s merely the ratio of good to bad that I’m struggling with right now.”
“Ah. You’ve been exposed to a disproportionate amount of criminality due to your, ah—” Miles frowned, as if trying to find just the right word.
“Circumstances,” Bastian provided.
“My circumstances? You mean all the cursed candy I unleashed on the local populace?”
Miles shrugged, because that was exactly what he meant.
Bastian glanced at the chunky watch on his wrist. “If that’s all you have, we have a dinner date I’d like to get started.”
Miles’s mouth opened. Then closed. He blinked. “You can’t go on a date now. We have a lead.”
After a quick squeeze of my neck (which felt heavenly because I tended to carry a lot of tension there), Bastian withdrew his arm from behind me on the sofa and leaned forward. Giving Miles all of his attention, he said, “If you were leading this investigation, what would you do next?”
“Interview the victims. Um, I mean the perpetrators of the crimes, who are also quite possibly the victims of magical suggestion.” He shook his head and made a frustrated sound. “I’d interview the nun and the teacher. It’s really confusing when the people committing the crimes aren’t the criminals.”
“You’d interview the nun and the teacher.” Bastian raised his eyebrows. “Who are both nonmagical. At seven o’clock on a Wednesday evening. Where are they?”
Miles blinked again. “The teacher’s still in custody, though she should be out shortly. She just gave the guy a black eye. And the nun’s already been let out. She didn’t even have a weapon. Honestly, I’m not sure exactly how she managed to rob the store. The prosecution’s best bet would be for her to confess and then take a plea deal. What with her being a nun and all, you’d think that was a no-brainer, but if she doesn’t remember committing the crime, she’d hardly confess to ease the burden of her guilt.”
Actually, that was an interesting point. And if the nun was claiming memory loss, why hadn’t the cops put that together with the kindergarten teacher claiming the same?
“We can’t interview the teacher until she’s released,” Bastian explained patiently. “And I doubt a nun, or any nonmagical person who’s likely been swamped by media attention due to the nature of the crime, would be receptive to a visit from strangers at this time of day.”
Miles chewed on his lower lip. “I should come up with an interview strategy for both of them.” When Bastian nodded, he continued. “And continue my research to see if there is any link between the two victims. I mean, a connection between the nun and the teacher.”
“And also the victims of the crimes. Liquor stores are state-owned in Idaho, but look at the cashier.”
“Right,” Miles agreed. “I know that. And you’ll—”
“Go on my date with my girlfriend, because there’s nothing else she and I can do right now.”
I grinned at their conversation. First, because it was cute. Also, because Bastian usually just told Miles what to do; this time he’d let him work some of the details out himself. But mostly because Bastian had called me his girlfriend.
That was new. And adorable. We’d had the exclusivity conversation, so it wasn’t presumptuous on his part. But he’d never actually said the word “girlfriend.”
I really liked hearing him say it out loud, to other people. Well, Miles, but he still counted.
And while girlfriend seemed a little youthful for a couple our age, it did designate us as a couple, so color me happy.
“What’s got you suddenly in such a great mood?” he asked. Miles had already planted himself behind Bastian’s desk and begun to type on his computer at a freakishly fast pace.
“You. Our date.”
And that seemed to satisfy him. More than satisfy him, actually, since he grinned then kissed me.
“Get a room, people,” Miles said without a break in his rapid typing.
***SNIP ENDS***
Fatal Fudge is now available for pre-order, releasing October 9th!
