Stirring the Plot (A Cookbook Nook Mystery) by Daryl Wood Gerber

Author:Daryl Wood Gerber [Gerber, Daryl Wood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-09-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

ALL NIGHT LONG, I fretted about my aunt and whether she would return Cinnamon’s calls. Most of Sunday morning, I wondered whether she would be thrown in the clink for insubordination. I hoped not. It was the big day. The Winsome Witches luncheon was scheduled to start at 11:30 A.M. Between 10:00 and 11:00 A.M., I called Aunt Vera several times but got no response. At a quarter past eleven, I put Bailey in charge of The Cookbook Nook, changed clothes, and hurried to Nature’s Retreat.

The hotel, built in the hills above Crystal Cove and surrounded by gorgeous oaks and other indigenous trees, was the only hotel in town that had a ballroom grand enough to hold over three hundred attendees.

I entered the ballroom and stared with wonder at the splendor. The room was typically elegant with its natural wood panels and lavish crystal chandeliers, but the Winsome Witches decorating committee had done a number, too. Each of the fifty-plus tables was draped with black cloth and adorned with a dramatically tiered centerpiece. At the base were silver pumpkins and shiny red leaves. Bramble dripped off the tiers. On top of each perched a silver witch hat encircled with more red leaves. A string quartet situated at the far side of the ballroom was playing “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered.”

I noted a number of men in attendance. Tito stood beside the head table with a plump-faced man. Both wore suits; neither wore a witch hat. Tito seemed to be regaling the plump-faced man with a story.

As I passed near their table, Tito reached out to me. “You look pretty, Jenna.”

“Thank you.” I had donned a Chanel-style black sheath, gold beads, gold strappy sandals, and the same gold witch hat that I had fashioned for the faire.

Tito said, “Are you flying solo? No Bailey?”

“She’s managing the store.”

“Of course. How is she doing with that boyfriend of hers?”

I had forgotten that Tito and Bailey had talked at Latte Luck Café a few days ago.

He added, “Jorge does not appreciate her enough.”

“How true. They broke up.”

“Some love is not meant to be. Tell her to wish upon a star.” Tito twirled a finger in the air. “It is good luck and will bring new love into her life.”

Was everybody in town superstitious? I wondered, then chided myself. Wishing upon a star wasn’t superstition; it was an act of hope.

“Thanks, I will. Um, forgive me for asking, but why are you here, Tito?”

“Here? At this table? We”—he gestured to his tablemate—“are guests of Dr. Thornton’s, may she rest in peace.”

“Were you a patient?”

Tito guffawed. “Me? Go to a shrink? Never.”

The plump-faced man grinned. “Tito donates a ton of money to support literacy. The doc loved him.”

Tito blushed and shrugged. “Kids have to read, no?”

I looked at Tito curiously. When had he become a nice guy and not the obnoxious braggart I’d taken him for?

“Jenna, dear, over here.” My aunt, who was dressed in a fitted black gown and a grandiose witch hat brimming with black lace and black ribbon, waved to me.

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