Haunted by Murder by ReGina Welling & Erin Lynn

Author:ReGina Welling & Erin Lynn [Welling, ReGina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-07T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Aren’t you glad this place was on the way to the shelter?” A bag of chocolate donuts in one hand and molasses ones in the other, Clara juggled the two packages and waited for Mag to choose.

Located halfway between Port Harbor and Harmony, C&R’s carried as eclectic a mix as Balms and Bygones, except it lay at the other end of the spectrum when it came to goods. Part grocery store, part restaurant, and part gas station, you could also purchase a full set of fishing gear including a license, browse through a selection of rental DVDs, or play a game of pool.

Considering the merits of both flavors, Mag made a quick decision. “Get both. And if they have any orange creme whoopie pies, I want one of those, too.”

“Okie dokie,” Clara said. A display of handmade Celtic-style jewelry had captured her attention. She’d already wrapped several sterling silver rings around her slim fingers and was holding them up to admire the effect. “I wonder if this artisan is local. These would sell really well at Balms and Bygones.”

Mag agreed. “Ask for a card on our way out.” She chose a pair of earrings and examined the beaten silver dangles. Good weight, nicely crafted. Excellent shelf appeal and would make a good addition to our product line.”

Born of the necessity to cater to Mag’s tiny bladder, the store made a perfect stopping point on the weekly trips back to the city to visit Clara’s granddaughter Lexi. But it was the rustic charm and homemade potato salad that kept them coming back.

The witch’s way of transport, magically skimming from one place to another, would have been easier, but driving offered the advantage of being able to stop and shop along the way. So, while Mag ruthlessly scoured shops and yard sales for rare antiques, Clara made it a point to hit every boutique from Harmony to Port Harbor.

“What do you think? Is it me?” Popping out from aisle behind the coolers, Mag sported a ball cap in pale blue with the words Wicked Pissah in white script across the front. To make matters worse, she’d added a sweatshirt featuring a moose wearing a googly-eyed lobster apron.

“Cute,” Clara deadpanned, then whipped out her phone to snag a photo. “I’ll blackmail you with this later.”

“Can’t see how. I’d have to give a rat’s patootie for that to work, and I’m fresh out,” Mag scoffed.

“You take the fun out of everything.”

In addition to trying on various combinations of tourist wear, every time they visited the establishment, Mag enjoyed the photo mounted on the wall behind the register. A panoramic view of the store’s facade taken at least thirty years prior.

To her, the photo represented a real life version of the ‘find the differences between these two photos’ game. So far, other than updated trim colors, only one element appeared out of place: a set of hand hewn, three-foot-tall, wooden letters spelling out the store’s name.

At some point in its history, CARS had become C&R’s simply by replacing the A with an ampersand and adding an apostrophe.

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