Easy Bake Coven: Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries (19 page)

She
went about taking a shower and getting herself ready for another day. With
Mona’s memorial service taking place, she decided she would go down to the
bakery and whip up some sort of dessert for Richard and the many guests that
would surely follow back to his home afterwards.

She
debated whether or not to let Tom Cat stay inside, but seeing how the
temperature had warmed considerably she figured he would benefit from the fresh
air and escorted him out as she left her home. Besides, she didn’t have a real
litter box or any cat food. She made a mental note to stop at the Monarch
Grocery and pick up both items on her way to the bakery in case Tom Cat faced
another night in the cold. ‘Oh, who am I kidding?’ She thought to herself. If
she was investing in a litter box, she was committing to a long term
relationship.

It
was half past noon when she arrived at the
Sweet
Dreams Bakery
after picking up her cat essentials. After studying several
dessert books, she ditched the professional recipes for something more personal
from her collection of three by five recipe cards she kept in a candy tin that
once held chocolate covered cherries. She went about creating an old family
favorite,
Treavis
cake. The simple Bundt cake,
flavored with pistachio and sugared walnut filling, tinted green and finished
with a simple sugar glaze, always proved a crowd pleaser. The name was derived
from an old family friend, Virginia
Treavis
, who
brought it to many neighborhood potluck dinners over the years. Nana Mary
started calling it ‘
Treavis
Cake’ and eventually so
did everyone else who were fortunate enough to enjoy a slice. After her death a
few years back, Virginia’s daughter had tucked the recipe into a thank you card
for the flower arrangement she had sent to the family. ‘Mother insisted you
inherit the famous recipe. Nothing would please her more than for you to carry
on the legacy.’ She had written.
  

She
had no sooner finished drizzling the glaze onto the cooled cake when her bakery
phone rang. Seeing Kathy’s number on the caller ID display, she answered on the
second ring. “What’s going on, Kathy?”

“Did
you see the news?” Kathy asked.

“That
they set the time and date for Mona’s memorial service?”

“Who
cares about that?” Kathy mused. “You always have your head stuck in a cookbook
so you miss the really good stuff.”

“Well,
I am a baker who works in a bakery.” Vivienne set the bowl with the sugar glaze
down on the stainless steel workstation. “So what’s this sudden news flash?”

“The
police arrested Suzette Powell for Mona’s murder.” Kathy spit out breathlessly.
“What do you think about that?”

“Suzette
Powell?” Vivienne couldn’t believe it. “Why on Earth would she kill Mona
Clarke? The only thing they had in common was that they were both on the historic
commission. That’s a motive for murder all of a sudden?”

“Who
knows with that bunch?” Kathy replied. “I highly doubt it was all sunshine and
rainbows between them.”

“That’s
true.” Vivienne stared at the
Treavis
cake on the
rotating stand. “I’ve known Suzette for years. I just can’t believe she would
resort to cold-blooded murder.”

“Do
we ever really know our neighbors?” Kathy asked. “Isn’t that always what people
say when they find out someone who lived among them did something terrible?”

Vivienne
thought back to yesterday when she had nearly collided with Suzette’s catering
van. She seemed to be in an awful hurry and she definitely was having words
with someone. “Come to think of it, I saw her van over by city hall where
people were gathering and leaving flowers at the makeshift memorial.”

“You
did?” Kathy’s voice brightened. “Did you tell the police about it? Is that why
she was arrested?”

“No.
It wasn’t anything big. I was driving over to Joshua’s last night and I almost
ran into her van.”

“Oh.”
Kathy’s bright tone morphed into disappointment. “I thought maybe you were the
key witness to the whole case.”

“Oh,
please.” Vivienne protested. “I did talk to Sheriff
Rigsbee
about Mona being in here but frankly he didn’t seem to act like my story added
anything remotely useful.”

“I
wonder if you’ll be called to the trial as a witness? Wouldn’t that be
exciting?”

The
very thought made Vivienne feel nervous. She had never even served on a jury,
but the thought of being grilled by opposing attorneys was just too much.
“Perish the thought.”

“Well,
you never know with these big trials.” Kathy added. “Why can’t my life be this
exciting?”

“You
want to trade places with me?” Vivienne asked. “Be my guest.”

There
was a moment of silence on the line. “Well, not really.” Kathy continued. “But
I’ll take the part of dating a gorgeous sheriff’s deputy.”

“Thanks.”
Vivienne glanced at the clock and decided she had better deliver the confection
before too much longer. “I’m going to drop off a
Treavis
cake to Richard’s home today. Want to come along?”

“I
wish I could but I have a shipment arriving today.” Kathy whined. “You really
need to start making those for other occasions besides funerals we aren’t
invited to.”

“I
will.” Vivienne smiled. “Talk to you later.”

The
home of Richard and Mona Clarke was close enough for Vivienne to walk to from
her bakery downtown. In fact, she was glad to get out in the sunshine and take
in the majesty of color that the trees were providing to all the residents.
With the pink and brown cake box bundled securely with twine, she walked
briskly along the businesses on Main Street and turned off onto Presidential
Circle where most of the grand homes were located.

The
stately Victorian that they had chosen to call home was a three-storied
structure with a large porch wrapped around the front. Painted in a pale yellow
shade with white trim, it gave no sign of the sadness within its walls. The
sidewalk leading up to the front door was lined with a dozen hardy fall mums in
alternating colors of burgundy and orange.

As
she walked toward the front steps, Vivienne wondered why two people required a
home that probably had no less than fifteen rooms inside. Richard and Mona had
never had children or any pets. It just seemed like an awful big waste of
space, but then again she tried not to judge. They both may have liked the
style of architecture and the extra space probably came in handy whenever they
threw a fundraiser for some political cause.

She
pressed the doorbell and waited with the box in her hands. Her mind wandered
back in time to when the home was first built. She imagined maids in pressed
uniforms and butlers in tails scurrying about to keep the home neat and tidy
for the residents. As the door opened, she recognized one of the blond ladies
from the
Trade Winds Clothier
that
had buzzed around Fiona. “Hello, I’m Vivienne Finch.”

The
woman, the one from the group with the darkest blond hair and dressed in a
simple black dress, regarded her coldly. “You’re late.”

“I
beg your pardon?” Vivienne blinked in response.

“Where’s
the rest of your catering staff?” The woman asked. “If it’s just you, I don’t
see how you can possibly have the buffet setup in time before the mourners
arrive.”

“I
think you’re mistaken.” Vivienne smiled. “I’m not the caterer.”

“Oh.”
The blond woman frowned. “Fiona is going to be furious.”

Vivienne
handed her the box. “I baked a
Treavis
cake for
Richard. I thought he could use it for when the guests return from the
service.”

“That
was very thoughtful.” The woman took the cake and set it down on a dark walnut
table with clawed feet beside the front door. “How many does it serve?”

“Oh,
about fifteen to twenty, depending on how thick the slices are.” Vivienne
answered.

“It’s
a start.” The woman sighed. “Thanks again.”

“Is
there something wrong?” Vivienne asked. “Why aren’t you at the memorial
service?”

“Someone
had to stay back and let the caterers in and since I had hired them it was the
logical choice.” She glanced down at her gold wrist watch and shook her head.
“I can’t believe the catering people never showed up.”

“Who
did you hire?” Vivienne asked.

“
The Formal Affair
.” The woman answered.

“Oh,
no.” Vivienne truly felt sorry for this woman who had no idea what had
transpired. “I think I know why they couldn’t keep the commitment.”

“Did
they go out of business overnight?”

“Well,
not exactly.” Vivienne couldn’t think of a nice way to spin it. “The head of
the company was arrested today.”

“Arrested?
For what?”

Vivienne
swallowed hard. “There’s no easy way to put this.” She fidgeted with her hands
as she spilled the awful truth. “She was arrested for the murder of Mona
Clarke.”

The
woman swooned and nearly dropped to the floor.

Vivienne
grabbed hold of her and gently eased her into a thrown-like chair inside the
grand foyer. “Easy now, have a seat.”

The
woman shook her head back and forth. “Oh God, Victoria is going to be livid. I
hired the caterer who killed Mona?”

Vivienne
bit down on her lip. “Did you tell everyone who was catering?”

“No.”
The woman sniffled. “But they’re going to find out in less than an hour.
Victoria and Fiona just told me to take care of it and I did.” Tears of
frustration rolled down her cheeks.

Vivienne
reached into her purse and rummaged around for a tissue. Finding one, she
handed it to the woman. “Then we still have time to fix this.”

The
woman snatched the tissue and blew her little nose, which was quite red against
her fair complexion. “How are we going to fix this?”

Vivienne
knelt down on the floor and took hold of her hands. “I know a place that has
fabulous comfort food and can probably make the deadline, but they don’t
deliver. Do you have a car?”

The
woman nodded. “Yes.”

*
 
*
 
*

As
they pulled into the parking lot of
Clara’s
Diner
, the woman whom Vivienne had learned on the ride over was named
Samantha Charles, stared up in disbelief at the tacky coffee mug sign. “This is
the where we’re getting the food?”

“It’s
our only hope.” Vivienne jumped out of the passenger seat. “If we ask nicely,
they just might help out.”

Samantha
seemed hesitant to leave the comfort of her sleek Mercedes. “I’ve never been in
one of these places.”

“Then
you’re really missing out on some good old American comfort food.” Vivienne led
the way into the diner. “Follow me.”

As
they stepped inside, Clara was at her usual post by the register keeping order
amongst the familiar lunch crowd. “Vivienne, what brings you here?”

“Well,
we’ve got a bit of a problem that I’m hoping you can help us out with.”
Vivienne spoke in a sugary sweet voice.

“Oh
no, I know that tone.” Clara shook her head. “What do you need?”

“We
need some good food for about…” She looked at Samantha for confirmation. “How
many do you think?”

Samantha
stared at the locals as if they were wild animals in a zoo. She kept close to
Vivienne. “Between thirty and forty people I’d guess.”

“Forty
people?” Clara raised her voice in surprise which caused the patrons inside the
diner to stop gabbing about the weather and sport scores and prick their ears
up to catch a bit of juicy gossip to spread.

“We
also need to have it ready in less than an hour.” Vivienne pleaded. “Do you
have any ideas?”

“Vivienne,
I don’t know that I can help you with this.” Clara smoothed the lines of her
pink uniform with her hands. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Samantha
decided to help. “The catering company was going to do lobster
thermidor
, some vegetarian canapés, and crème
brulee
for dessert.”

“Oh,
is that all?” Clara rolled her eyes.

“So
you can do it?” Samantha replied eagerly.

“Why
sure.” Clara smiled brightly. “We do that all the time for lunch specials here.”

Samantha
looked at Vivienne with renewed hope. “You really are a miracle worker.”

Vivienne
grimaced in response. “Not exactly, Samantha.”

Clara
put her hands on her hips. “She must be one of Mona’s friends?”

“Yes.”
Samantha answered. “From New York.”

“Clara,
maybe we can do something like a casserole?” Vivienne offered.

Clara
tapped her index finger on her chin in thought for a moment. “I have two trays
of scalloped potatoes and ham. That would feed about forty people if they don’t
take too much.”