Spells and Scones by Bailey Cates Read Free Book Online Page A

look.
    â€œYeah, okay,” I sighed. “You should definitely let Quinn know. Gosh, Lucy. That’s something, you putting that together.”
    My aunt smiled but still looked sad as she peered around the end of a bookshelf. “He’s done with that woman. I’m going to tell him now.” She strode toward Quinn with a purposeful set to her shoulders.
    I sidled over to where Angie Kissel now hovered alone near a display of Harry Potter books. She looked up at me with wide brown eyes, and I realized she was terrified.
    Because she’d just committed murder? Or because she was innocent? I got the feeling that either way, it hadn’t gone well with Detective Quinn.
    Mungo had been shadowing me around the bookstore, and I hadn’t had the heart to ask him to sit out of the way. Now he made a noise in the back of his throat. Angie looked down at him, and her gaze softened. He had that effect on a lot of people. There was something different about her response, though. I couldn’t put my finger on what.
    â€œAre you okay?” I asked.
    Her head bobbed yes, but her eyes still said she was anything but okay.
    â€œCan I get you some cider or something?”
    She shook her head.
    Well, this is going nowhere.
    We were silent for several long seconds, watching the hustle and bustle of uniformed men and women.
    â€œThat detective thinks I did it,” she said.
    My eyes cut sideways to her. “You sure didn’t like her.”
    â€œNo, I did not. Not a bit. But I wasn’t the only one.”
    â€œFrom what I understand, that’s true,” I said.
    We were quiet for a few beats. I debated what to say next. Probably my best option was to say nothing at all. It wasn’t any of my business who killed Dr. Dana. I didn’t know her, and I sure didn’t see any connection to magic in her death. Still . . . Mungo was gazing up at me with an urgency that bordered on hunger.
    And I couldn’t help being curious. So I asked, “Care to tell me why you disliked her so much?”
    She looked down at Mungo again. Smiled. Then she bent at the knees and ran her fingers lightly down his back.
    He beamed at her, looked at me, and then returned his attention to Angie.
    Well,
he
sure doesn’t seem to think she’s a murderer.
    I realized then that I couldn’t read Angie Kissel at all. I can occasionally get intuitive hints from people, especially if I really try. It wasn’t any kind of real clairvoyance, more of a feel for who they were or their emotional state, and usually I interpreted it in terms of flavors—bitter, sweet, salty, and the like. It came in handy at the bakery when a customer needed a little enchantment in her life. But try as I might, Angie was . . . flavorless.
    She gave Mungo another pat and stood, then answered my question in a low voice. “I was having problems withmy husband. It was just the usual stuff couples go through, I suppose, but we’d only been married a year. I wanted it to be like it was when we first got together, all lovey-dovey and moonlight and wanting to be with each other all the time.”
    â€œThe honeymoon phase,” I said without thinking.
Like I know.
I glanced over at Lucy and Ben. He had his arm around her shoulders as she spoke with Peter Quinn. Those two had never known anything
but
the honeymoon phase, so maybe it didn’t even exist.
    Then I looked at Declan, tall and in charge yet so gentle and easy with Margie. A little thrill went through me as I watched him talking with a crime scene tech. By now I knew his many sides, and other than a tendency to be a bit of a slob, he was a flat-out gem. Would that thrill I felt fade away if we were to marry? Or even if we didn’t?
    Angie nodded. “There’s a good reason they call it the honeymoon phase, of course. We still loved each other, don’t get me wrong. There was nothing really wrong, just that all those