Spellbound Sweets by Connie Shelton

Author:Connie Shelton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Secret Staircase Books, an imprint of Columbine Publishing Group

Chapter 12

Sam hung up before Autumn Feather could pry any more information from her. It should be the other way around—she knew this—but she felt suddenly out of her depth. She wasn’t sure what Beau could do about it at the moment, but she had to pass the witch’s statement along to him. She drove home mulling it over.

Ranger their black Lab and Nellie the border collie greeted her with their typical happy-dog excitement, tails whipping back and forth, bodies in motion. She knew the reason was more about getting their dinner than actual enthusiasm for her company, but it was a nice way to be welcomed home nonetheless. She patted their heads and spoke to them. After a day of murder investigation, their cheerful mood was a refreshing change.

The dogs followed her to the kitchen and before she scooped kibble into their bowls she heard Beau’s vehicle coming up the long driveway.

“Whew, I can’t say I was unhappy to see this workday end,” he said as he hung his Stetson on the rack near the front door and shrugged out of his jacket. “This case is a tough one. I guess it’s mainly the fact we have so many people who had access to the victim, and with every one of them I have to sort out the real person from the character they played that night.”

Sam sympathized. Aside from her close friends, the rest of the crowd was a blur of masked faces. She felt badly that she couldn’t recall more of them but her attention had quickly focused on Jen, Rupert, Kelly, Scott and Riki, making sure those dearest to her were safe.

She got Beau a beer from the fridge and told him about her call to Autumn Feather, the Wiccan lady. “She actually said, and I quote, ‘Any real witch would kill to own one.’”

Beau digested the new information. “If there are only a dozen copies known to exist, I can well imagine.”

“You might want to add to your list of questions for the partygoers—ask whether they know anything about Wicca.”

His indulgent smile told her he was a step ahead of her in that department. “While you were having a leisurely afternoon at the bookstore, I had a parade of the guest list coming through my office. I tell you, no one wanted to spend part of their Sunday at the sheriff's office.”

“But they came anyway?” Sam pulled out a container of homemade green chile stew she’d planned to reheat for their dinner.

“They came anyway. I talked to most of the book group, at least. Learned one tasty little bit of gossip from your friend Riki.” He stood with a hip against the counter, an open bag of tortilla chips at hand. “She says Darlene Trawl and Alan Pritchard were having an affair.”

Sam stopped in mid-stride, trying to remember Pritchard. “Tall, good-looking guy? Dark hair? He was dressed as Max DeWinter from Rebecca, I think, and his wife is the leader of the book group.”

“Wow, very good.

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