Christmas Witch by Willow Monroe

Author:Willow Monroe [Monroe, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fun mystery, funny mystery, culinary mystery, cozy witch mystery
Goodreads: 28051891
Published: 2015-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Six

I make it back to Bilda’s house by eight the next morning, but all this early rising is killing me. Luckily, she has coffee and cake. I pause before taking a slice, though. “Are these safe?”

“Yes.” She throws a dishtowel at me.

“Just checking.” I catch the dishtowel just as Angelo comes through the door.

He’s carrying a couple of brown paper bags with handles, the kind you get at takeout places. “Is that the stuff?” I ask.

He laughs, and I smile to see that he seems like his old self. “You make it sound like we’re drug dealers.”

Rain speaks up. “Well, we sort of are, aren’t we? Lacing cookies and sneaking dill to people?”

I think about this. She’s right.

Angelo lifts the bags onto the countertop. “I took the liberty of talking to Raul, the chef down at the Cup. He told me that cinnamon was not a good idea at all.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Cinnamon for what?” Bilda asks, retrieving her dishtowel and pulling biscuits from the oven. Angelo moans when he sees them.

“I thought we could mask the dill with cinnamon,” I explain, then turn back to Angelo. “Why is that a bad idea?”

“He said that cinnamon has a tendency to make tempers flare, and we don’t need that. I broke up two arguments just getting to the Cup and back, and I’m pretty sure Mrs. Kline was threatening to burn her house down if Mr. Kline didn’t go buy the right kind of flour for her fruitcakes.”

“He’s right. It’s a bad idea,” Bilda cut in. “Trinket, you need to ask me before you do these things.”

I sigh. “It was just an idea, and I’m only trying to save Christmas.”

“A lofty goal, my dear.” She pats my hand and offers Angelo a fluffy biscuit, which he takes. Then he dives for the refrigerator, grabs the butter, and slathers the bread before shoving it in his mouth. Anyone watching would think the man was starving to death.

I wait until he’s finished chewing, then ask, “Did Raul have any other ideas?”

“Yep. Peppermint.” Angelo grabs biscuit number two. Bilda lets him, then pulls the plate away.

“OK, that’ll work fine, I guess.” I look to Bilda, the herbalist among us. “No nasty side effects?”

“Nope. That works fine,” she says, picking at a biscuit of her own.

“Ok, then. Let’s get started.” I reach for the bags and start pulling out ingredients. The one at the bottom puzzles me. “Angelo? These are those round peppermint candies.”

“I know. He said that it would be fine, since we’re only using them for the taste. We have to crush them up ourselves, though. I couldn’t find the already crushed kind.”

“Really? What about peppermint oil? That would work, too.”

“It’s Christmas, Trinket. Everything’s sold out. Even the candy canes.”

Of course it is. I dig through Bilda’s pantry, find the rolling pin, and hand it plus the candy to Rain. “Take this outside and pound on it for a while,” I instruct her.

She goes without a word, and I wonder if she’s still feeling bad about her goof.

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