Body Bags & Blarney
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Body Bags & Blarney:
Book Three of The Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries
J.D.
SHAW
Copyright
© 2014 by J.D. Shaw
All
rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means
without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in
reviews.
Manuscript
Editing by George G. Weiss.
Cover
illustrations by Allison Marie for Alli’s Studio. Copyright © 2014 All Rights
Reserved. No part of these designs may be reproduced without written consent
from the artist.
DEDICATION
For George, may we forever
walk in fields of gold.
CHAPTER ONE
Vivienne Finch unzipped
her woolen winter jacket and hung it on the coat rack opposite the front door
to Clara’s Diner, revealing her short-sleeved lavender tee shirt with the Sweet
Dreams Bakery logo splashed across the front. ”Hello Clara. Glad to see you
haven’t frozen solid in this arctic chill.”
Clara Bunton peered from
behind the cash register, counting out a roll of quarters one by one and
placing them in the cash drawer. “These have Eunice Kilpatrick’s initials on
the rolls.” She replied, flatly.
Everyone in town knew that
if Eunice happened to be your teller at the bank, you were sure to be shorted
in some obscure manner. Whenever customer comment cards were collected, hers
mostly included variations on the words rude, ill-mannered, and discourteous.
If you asked any Cayuga Cove resident how she managed to remain employed, they
would tell you it was based specially on the thrilling gossip she passed along
as she conducted your business. She knew the good secrets. In a small town,
secrets were often more valuable than gold.
“Say no more.” Vivienne
nodded back as she stood before Clara’s hostess podium where the specials for
the day were written on a small chalkboard.
Clara had donned a
light-weight white sweater over the pink poly-blend fabric of her work uniform
to combat the constant blasts of cold air from the opening and closing of the
front door. As she counted out the last quarter from the ten dollar wrapper she
frowned. “Seventy-five cents short.”
“At least you know the
staff isn’t responsible.” Vivienne countered.
Clara closed the cash
drawer and scribbled a note on an order pad. “I’ll be sure to mention it to her
when I pick up my deposit bag tomorrow morning.” She stuffed the note into her
apron pocket. “Dealing with Eunice or the frigid temperatures, both situations
leave me worse for the wear.”
“It feels like we’ve gone
back to January again.” Vivienne shivered and ran her hands along her arms to
warm them up.
Clara clucked her tongue
in disapproval. “A flimsy short-sleeved cotton shirt is not a suitable winter
garment unless you’re living in the Florida Keys.”
“It feels like the Florida
Keys with all those ovens blazing in the bakery this morning.” Vivienne
responded as she slid into her usual booth. “I’ve been thinking about your
basil and Swiss tomato soup all morning.”
“Cup or bowl?” Clara
asked.
“Today is definitely a
bowl day.” Vivienne smiled as a few more customers arrived for the noon rush,
briskly taking up the counter seats. “Better bring another one for Kathy too,
she’s on the way.”
Clara nodded and stepped
behind the counter where her cook, Harold, was ready to tackle the lunch hour
crunch. “Two bowls with extra crackers.”
Harold nodded and
disappeared from the kitchen window as Clara pulled some menus from under the
counter and handed them to a quartet of young college students who had just
claimed some of the swivel chairs. They barely looked up from their smartphones
as Clara informed them to save room for dessert, as a fresh batch of pecan pies
were cooling in the kitchen.
Vivienne glanced at the
young college students. They were together, at least physically, but not one of
them engaged in actual conversation. No doubt they would have thought her lunch
date with Kathy to catch up on personal news in person was quite old-fashioned
and probably not a productive use of time. Sadly, Vivienne mused, this
generation was pressured from birth to keep pace not just with the friends and
family in their hometown, but the entire world. She certainly didn’t envy them
when it came to competition for top-notch schools or careers. Gone were the
care-free days of cutting class to buy concert tickets or praying just to get a
passing grade on an exam. Their entire future seemed to be set in stone before
they even tried on a cap and gown. Admitting they did not know what the future
held was almost heresy these days. It was a little sad, Vivienne mused, that
they would never have that personal thrill of discovery on their own.
Of course, how could they
when compared to her? After the Christmas incident involving Natalie Burdick
exacting vengeance from beyond the grave, Vivienne realized that getting more
involved with her magical studies had to become a priority. While those around
her made New Year’s resolutions to lose weight or quit smoking, she chose to
make weekly training visits with Nana Mary to start unlocking the plethora of
spells and charms waiting in her very own grimoire.
As the doldrums of January
dragged on, Vivienne began to understand the fundamentals of magic through Nana
Mary’s own experiences with the craft. They would have a nice dinner complete
with stories from the old days when the witches were more isolated and had to
find creative ways to stay informed. Just last week, Nana Mary had explained
how before the telephone was invented, witches would send communications
through birds to each other. Song birds would sing notes outside a kitchen
window or groups of birds with varying plumage and feather color would
congregate on a tree branch nearby. It reminded her of the Victorian flower
messages where a bloom could carry all sorts of messages without writing a
single word on paper.
She began to wonder if
perhaps there was a spell waiting in her grimoire that permitted time travel.
What would it be like to not only read about the past, but be able to
experience it herself without looking through the lens of someone else’s
memory? Would she be able to visit the great library of Alexandria before it
burned to the ground? Watch an original Shakespeare performance at the Globe
Theatre with the master playwright himself behind the scenes? The possibilities
of such an amazing power just mesmerized her.
“Dreaming of a tropical
beach and a margarita?” Kathy’s voice stirred Vivienne from her thoughts.
“Hi there.” Vivienne
smiled. “Not, really.”
Kathy grabbed a napkin
from the table dispenser and gave the booth seat several wipes before setting
down her outrageously expensive Coach purse. “If I hear anyone mention global
warming, they’re going to see my fist flying at their face.” She slid into the
seat facing Vivienne and let out a frustrated sigh.
Vivienne chuckled. “It’s
not all that bad, now.”
“I can’t remember the last
time our high temperature had a double digit.” Kathy scoffed as she pulled out
a compact mirror and checked her hair and makeup. “All this week I kept seeing
this red cardinal out at the feeder in my backyard.” She fixed a few stray
pieces of her blond hair that had drifted out of place in the frigid wind. “I
actually went out this morning to check that it hadn’t died and was just frozen
in place.”
“It may be only a few
weeks to the first day of spring, but that doesn’t mean that winter just fades
away.” Vivienne replied. “They don’t call it a lion for nothing.”
Satisfied with her
appearance, Kathy put away her compact and rubbed her hands together. “I just
got a shipment of bathing suits in today and I’m not even going to open the
box. I can’t stand to even look at those yet.”
“I agree that putting
bathing suits out for sale this early seems silly.” Vivienne glanced out the
window where a strong wind was blowing drifts of dry snow across the parking
lot. “I was actually going to come down this afternoon and look at your winter
scarves.”
“Didn’t you just buy a
couple during my New Year’s sale?”
“Not for me.” Vivienne
continued. “For Mother’s birthday.”
Clara arrived with a
circular tray balanced above her shoulder. She deftly lowered two steaming
bowls of her famous basil and Swiss tomato soup onto the table. “Two bowls of
tomato soup with extra crackers.”
Kathy waved her hand over
the steaming bowl and sighed. “Perfect.”
“Two iced teas, unsweetened.”
Clara set the tall glasses rimmed with a lemon wedges down next to the bowls.
“Enjoy ladies.”
“Oh, we will.” Vivienne unwrapped
her straw and placed it in her glass as Clara left to take another order from a
frantic mother with two hyper-active toddlers banging the salt and pepper
shakers on the tabletop.
Kathy opened a small
package of oyster crackers and dropped them into the soup. “You’ll never guess
what I saw today.”
“A groundhog waving a
white flag?” Vivienne teased as she dropped crackers into her soup.
Kathy gingerly sipped a
spoonful of soup. “How about a ‘Going Out of Business’ sign on Main Street?”
“Really?
Who?” Vivienne quickly asked and then took a
spoonful of soup.
“Carriage House Antiques.”
“No way.” Vivienne’s jaw
dropped.
“I saw Nathaniel putting
it in their front display window on my drive over here.” Kathy shook her head.
“I knew they weren’t doing a ton of business the past month, but I had no idea
things were that bad.”
“After what happened back
in December, I had hoped the town would rally to support them.” Vivienne said
as she recalled the vicious attack that had landed both men in the hospital due
to Natalie’s Bad Santa notes distributed around town. “I guess my faith in
humanity is just a little bit more eroded now after hearing this.”
“I’ve always been jaded.”
Kathy remarked. “But, I do feel terrible about them losing their business.”
“Things are going to pick
up when the storefront renovations resume in the springtime.” Vivienne added.
“I wish they could hold up until then and see.”
Kathy stirred more
crackers into her soup. “Well, maybe they had some medical bills from the
hospital that were higher than they expected?”
“All the more reason we
should try to see if there is something we can do to help them out.”
“Vivienne, I’d love to
help them out but things aren’t exactly flush with my shop either. I’m making
enough to pay the bills and put some money in my checking account each month,
but it’s not exactly the horn of plenty for me right now.”
Vivienne sipped her iced
tea and nodded. “I know that.”
“Your heart is in the
right place but unfortunately most of the town’s wallets and purses aren’t.” Kathy
reasoned. “It’s survival of the fittest in this economy.”
“Well, I haven’t been over
to visit them in a few weeks. Now, I have all the more reason to.” Vivienne
added.
“Let’s talk about
something more upbeat now.” Kathy changed the subject. “Like the chances of us
winning the lottery and moving to a tropical island where handsome, muscular,
and tanned native men cater to our every desire.”
“Where every hour on the
clock is happy hour.” Vivienne replied dreamily.
“And seventy-five degrees
and partly-cloudy is a typical winter day.” Kathy mused blissfully.
“Saint Patrick’s Day is
only three weeks away.” Vivienne laughed. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find a
leprechaun frozen to the ground by your bird feeder?”