Easy Bake Coven: Book One of the Vivienne Finch Magical Mysteries (21 page)

Stephanie
returned with two mugs and placed them on the table. “Can I get you ladies
something to eat?”

“No,
thank you.” Samantha shook her head.

“Coffee
is just fine with me.” Vivienne answered.

“What
time do you close?” Samantha asked.

“Ten.”
Stephanie smiled. “But don’t rush on account of that. We have lots of cleaning
up to do.”

“Thank
you.” Samantha answered back.

Stephanie
turned to leave and then spun around on her white sneakers with a squeak. “I
just wanted to say thank you for the tip today. It really meant a lot.”

Samantha
nodded. “You’re very welcome.”

“I’m
putting it in my savings account for school. It’s a long way off, but I’m
making progress at paying the tuition.” Stephanie explained.

“What
school do you want to go to?” Samantha asked with interest. “Wellesley?
Vassar?”

Stephanie
let out a little laugh. “I was thinking more along the lines of Lakeshore
Community College.”

“I’m
sure they have some very nice programs.” Samantha did her best to answer.

“It’s
right here in town and I just might be able to go next fall.” Stephanie’s eyes
lit up with anticipation. “Well, I better get back to work or we’ll be here
until midnight.”

“So,
you said on the computer that you and Mona weren’t particularly close friends.”
Vivienne poured a cup of coffee and filled Samantha’s mug as well.

“I
knew her.” Samantha answered. “But Victoria and Fiona were really close with
her.”

“So
you came for moral support for Fiona and Victoria?”

Samantha
let out a little laugh. “You think that Victoria Clemens needed moral support?
That woman could make Queen Elizabeth feel inadequate.”

“Well,
I’m afraid I don’t know any of them particularly well.” Vivienne took a sip of coffee.
“Except for Suzette Powell, that is.”

“Were
you two friends?”

“No.”
Vivienne clarified. “It’s a small town and when you go to social events here
they are usually catered by Suzette. I would talk to her from time to time.”

“That’s
good.” Samantha nodded. “I was worried I’d say the wrong thing about your good
friend and then you’d be mad at me.”

Vivienne
waved her hand. “It takes more than that to raise my hackles.” She chuckled.
“Just ask my Mother.”

Samantha
smiled. “Does your Mother live in town?”

“Yes,
along with my grandmother.” Vivienne leaned back against the vinyl booth. “The
seeds don’t scatter too far here in Cayuga Cove.” She studied Samantha’s
expression for a moment. “So why do you think Victoria is mad at you?”

“Well,
it was just one of those feelings you get.” Samantha thought back to earlier in
the day. “Right after you left, the guests started to arrive and they were
hungry. I guided them to the buffet we set up and everyone seemed to enjoy the
selections. More than a few people raved about your cake.

“That’s
good to hear.” Vivienne added.

“So
a short time later, Richard comes in with Victoria and Fiona at his side. He
takes a plate and says how wonderful everything smells and how thoughtful we
all were to provide a meal for this occasion.”

“So
far, so good I’d say.”

Samantha
nodded and cupped her hands around the mug. “Well, afterwards I see Victoria
and Fiona whispering to each other and then point at me.” Samantha took a sip
of coffee. “I make eye contact with Victoria and she gives me one of those
social smiles.”

“What’s
a social smile?” Vivienne asked.

“I’m
sure you’ve seen it before. It’s the smile you find on the face of every
politician running for office. The one so big it nearly reaches the corners of
their eyes.”

“Ouch.”
Vivienne shook her head. “I know that one well.”

“If
I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought she knew what we did with the food.”

“I
think that secret is safe.” Vivienne took another sip of coffee. “They don’t
seem like the crowd to recognize Clara’s cooking.”

“It’s
almost like she wanted me to screw up with the catering and have it blow up in
my face.” Samantha confessed. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“I
can’t think of a good reason why she’d want something like that to happen.”
Vivienne agreed. “But it doesn’t sound stupid. We all get those feelings from
time to time.”

Samantha
put her hands up to her mouth. “Oh God, I wonder if they found out what
happened with their purses in the guest room?”

“What
about the purses?” Vivienne asked with interest.

“Okay,
I’ll admit I’m a bit of a klutz when I’m rushed. I was trying to help out by
taking coats and purses into a spare bedroom. I put one too many purses on one
of those skinny leg end tables and the darn thing flops over.” Samantha
blushed.

“Those
things happen.” Vivienne reassured her. “I doubt anything was broken.”

“No.
Some lipsticks and compacts had spilled out of a few, but I was able to put
everything back and no one was the wiser.” Samantha paused. “But maybe one of
them saw what I did?”

“It
could happen to anyone. Besides, if they did see that happen, wouldn’t a real
friend offer to help?”

“I
guess so.” Samantha reasoned. “Or maybe they just found another reason to keep
me at arm’s length?”

“It’s
their loss if you ask me.” Vivienne smiled. “I’d have helped you.”

Samantha
took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, whatever it is I can’t point to anything
tangible.”

“That’s
how I feel about Suzette Powell’s arrest.” Vivienne spoke softly. “I can’t
point to anything tangible, but it doesn’t feel right to me.”

“So
here we are.” Samantha added.

As
the evening went on, Vivienne shared stories of her little battles with Nora to
lighten the mood. Much to her surprise, Samantha had similar experiences with
her Mother and the two of them shared quite a few laughs as the coffee carafe
was emptied and Harold informed them he was ready to turn off the lights and go
home.

“It’s
been so nice getting to know you, Samantha.” Vivienne spoke as she stood by her
car.

“I
was going to say the same thing.” Samantha opened the door to her sleek
Mercedes and slid into the leather seat.

A
cold wind blew some leaves across the parking lot as the lighted sign above
their heads blinked off. Harold and Stephanie emerged from the darkened diner
and scurried to their cars with a wave.

“I
better get back to the inn before Fiona and the others send out a search party.
Heaven knows I don’t need to get on their radar any more than I already am.”

“When
are you leaving for home?”

“Tomorrow
morning.” Samantha looked a little sad as she started her car up. “I’d stop by
your bakery if you were open for business.”

“I’ll
be there baking up new treats all day.” Vivienne replied as she unlocked her
car. “You should stop by on your way out and I’ll give you a little tour.”

“I’d
like that. If it isn’t too much trouble, that is.”

“It’s
no trouble at all. It can get rather boring baking alone all day long.”
Vivienne confided.

“Then
I’ll swing by.” Samantha waved goodbye. “I’ll be checking out around ten.”

“I’ll
be up to my elbows in flour.” Vivienne grinned. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”
Samantha shut her door and pulled away onto Spruce Street.

Vivienne
plopped into her car and slammed the door. As she turned the key, the ignition
failed to turn over. She pulled it out and tried again. The engine gave a weak
little warble sound and then fell silent. “Oh, don’t do this to me tonight.”
Vivienne shook her fist at the sky outside her window. “Is this some kind of
test or something?”

Fixing
cars was not something she had ever given much thought to. She had always
suspected that husbands and boyfriends made repairs sound more complicated than
they really were just to have an excuse to stay out in the garage and drink
beers in peace. Still, it reasoned that popping the hood and taking a look
couldn’t hurt matters. Maybe a wire had come loose or a spark plug had popped
out? She reached down under the steering column and pulled the hood release.

As
she stepped out of the car, a strong gust of wind threatened to push the door
closed on her. She forced her way out and was about to grab her purse when
another very strong gust caught the door and slammed it shut with a tremendous
thud. She yanked her hand back in shock, inspecting that all her fingers were
still intact. Thankfully, they were.

She
tried to open the door, but it had locked. “Oh, come on.” She protested. “This
really isn’t fair.”

She
pulled at the handle a few more times, hoping it would just open. But it
remained stubbornly closed. She cupped her hands to the window and saw her
purse sitting on the passenger seat, the
grimoire
sticking out slightly. “Tempus
Openus
?” She spoke
futilely. “
Lockus
Unlockus
?”
She tried again. “How about just plain old help me out here?” She asked with a
sigh.

She
would have to call Nora and have her bring the spare set of keys over. She
tapped the pockets of the light sweatshirt she was wearing and came up
empty-handed. The cell phone, she realized with growing frustration, was still
in her purse.

As
she looked up at the sky, the moon was full but it threatened to be consumed by
angry dark clouds. A storm was brewing and if she didn’t hurry along she was
going to get drenched. It was only a few blocks to Main Street and thankfully
there were several businesses still open late where she could duck in and make
a quick call. Wishing she had worn something warmer than the thin sweatshirt,
she folded her arms together and trudged along fighting the cold wind with each
step.

Spruce
Street, she realized, had very few homes on it. At least, it seemed that way to
her in the dark of night. The area around the diner was a cluster of light
manufacturing type businesses that employed about half the population of the
town. Unfortunately for Vivienne, none of them had a night shift.

The
wind whipped her auburn hair around back and forth, and rattled the leaves
still on the trees above her head. The sound of her footfalls echoed against
the brick buildings that had only minimal lighting in their parking lots. She
had hoped someone she knew would drive by and offer her a lift, but tonight the
road was quite dead. Bad word choice, she thought with a grimace.

As
she walked along the first block toward her destination, her eyes caught
something darting across the road up ahead. It looked like a large dog. It
stopped and stared at her for a moment and then dashed off into some bushes.
She stopped in her tracks and considered the fact it might be a coyote that
sometimes strolled into town from the fields and woods surrounding the lake.
What if it tried to attack her? Did she have anything to fend it off with? She
scanned the road around her and found only a small branch that the wind had
knocked down from an old oak. She picked it up and decided it was better than
nothing.

With
the crude weapon firmly in her grip, she resumed her stride toward Main Street.
The sound of her footfalls once more echoed off the buildings and she tried to
think of something that made her feel safe and secure. Joshua popped into her
head. She imagined him walking beside her, his strapping figure imposing fear
in those who would wish to do her harm. She could almost hear his footfalls
beside her own. Actually, she thought with a start, the sound wasn’t in her
head. Someone or something was trailing behind her and getting closer.

She
craned her head back and caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure walking along the
road behind her. She couldn’t tell if it was male or female, as it appeared to
be wearing a heavy coat or cloak of some kind.

She
picked up her pace and so did whoever it was that was trailing her. Her mind
raced with questions of what to do next. She considered veering off into one of
the parking lots and waiting to see if her stalker followed or continued by.
She tried to recall the night class she and Nora had taken to learn self
defense against attackers using car keys and elbows as weapons. But in the end,
all she could think to do was pick up the pace to a near jog and hope to keep a
safe distance between them.

She
glanced behind once more to see how close her pursuer was, only to find the
street empty once again. She stopped in her tracks and frantically scanned the
darkness for any movement. “Hello?” She called out. “Is someone there?”

She
didn’t really expect an answer, but it couldn’t hurt either. With no response,
she tightened her grip on the branch and turned toward Main Street. The shadow
figure was now ahead of her, standing in the middle of the street. It watched
her silently, without moving.

Without
hesitation, she turned around and ran full speed back toward
Clara’s Diner
. Fueled with fear, her
legs moved at a speed she was certain qualified her for Olympic trials in track
and field.