The Cupcake Coven (15 page)

He remembered walking aimlessly the night Bethany broke it off. Loving that woman took so much out of him that he willingly took a dive off the Piscataqua River Bridge. He had thought he wasn’t good enough. But now he couldn’t imagine letting her—or any woman, ruin his life like that. He hoped April would understand and forgive him for doing something so stupid. This girl was
very
low maintenance and seemed to have her priorities straight.

Before he took her to the beach; however, he wanted to find that bakery and buy her a piece of apple pie. She had mentioned the scent seemed to bring back a memory that was just out of reach. He hoped the strong olfactory recall could jog her memory. It would be nice to know the girl he wanted to get involved with this time.

Dru carried his tray of samples down Middle Street toward market square. A motorcycle roared up beside him.

The driver planted his feet on the ground and raised his voice over the idling engine. “Is there a bakery around here? I can’t remember the name…”

Dru grinned. “Yup. I can recommend the Bewitching Bakery just about a block down that way.” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “Would you like to try a sample?”

The guy leaned over to see what was on the tray. Apparently he wasn’t in the mood for a mini cupcake, because he shook his head and said, “No thanks. We’re looking for apple pie.”

The person on the back of the bike was wearing one of those tinted visors, so Dru couldn’t really see her. He thought about asking if she’d like a cupcake, but they seemed to know what they wanted, and he didn’t want to distract them from their mission.

“Rebecca bakes the most amazing apple pies. You can tell her Dru sent you. Then she’ll know I’m doin’ my job.” He winked at the passenger.

The guy thanked him and continued down the street. Dru watched as they pulled up in front of the bakery and got off the bike.

Well, that was easy. Maybe all my walkin’ is finally payin’ off. They were actually lookin’ for a bakery and Rebecca’s is the only one in the neighborhood.

He continued on his way, whistling.

“That tune again…”

“What tune?” Mike asked as he held the door open for April.

She shook her head. “Just something that sounds familiar. And that guy was whistling it…Something else about him seemed familiar too.”

“Do you want me to see if I can catch him?”

“No. I’m sure it’s just my imagination.”

“Well, if you’re sure…Have a seat. I’ll get our pie.”

April took a seat facing the windows. If things in this neighborhood were sparking memories, she wanted to watch every person and vehicle going by. Maybe she lived around here. Wouldn’t that just be a kick in the pants? She could see the headlines now.
Daughter gets lost five blocks from home.

She heard a male voice taking Mike’s order, and then a cell phone rang. He answered, “Ethan Cox. Yeah. I can be there in five minutes.”

The guy called out, “Rebecca, I have to go. Will you be all right ‘til Dru gets back?”

A female voice said, “I’ll be fine. Go. Save the harbor.”

April turned slightly as the guy rushed by and out the front door. He didn’t spare her a glance. He must be on some kind of emergency crew.

The woman was cutting their pie on a counter behind her and chatting casually with Mike. All April could see was her back and her long, brown ponytail.

Mike turned to her, “Hey, April. Do you want yours heated?”

“Yeah. I want to smell it.”

He grinned and told the woman to heat up both pieces. April resumed staring out the window. As usual, nothing looked especially familiar. Most of the homes in the city were turn of the century Colonials. This section was no different. If she lived in one of these homes, maybe some kind of unique decoration would spark a memory, but so far, she hadn’t seen any.

Mike returned to their table with two pieces of delicious smelling apple pie on stoneware plates. He placed one in front of her and she leaned in to take a big appreciative whiff.

“Oh, yeah. This is definitely familiar. I think I know how to make it. Roll out two pie crusts. Put one in a glass pie plate. Fill it with peeled apple slices, some lemon juice, sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and dot the top with butter before closing it up with the other crust. Then beat an egg with some milk and brush the top crust with that.” She bounced up and down in her chair. “I remember doing it. I was with an older woman in a kitchen with a long wooden counter and a white sink.”

Mike reached across the table. “That’s so cool! You
might have
remembered something. Does it feel real or like somebody told you about it recently?”

“Nobody’s told me how to bake a pie recently.”

“Then it’s real.” He squeezed her hands.

As soon as he let go, she dug into her pie and closed her eyes, tasting every morsel. “Mmmm…”

The woman behind her said, “Now that’s the sound I like to hear.”

April swiveled halfway around and said, “This is delicious, Ma’am.”

A timer buzzed in the other room. “I’m glad. Yell, if you need anything else.” Then she scurried off to the kitchen.

“Oh! We were supposed to tell her that Dru sent us,” she reminded Mike.

“Don’t worry about it. He can tell her himself if he really wants her to know.”

Dru. Why is that name familiar?
She pondered and realized he’d just said it. She might have been remembering what occurred ten minutes ago.

But the apple pie recipe… That was a real memory. “I remember how to bake,” April said. Her voice broke on the word bake and she couldn’t utter another word around the lump in her throat.

Mike stroked her hand and smiled. “You’re getting there.”

“So, did those two kids I sent get their apple pie?” Dru asked.

“Yeah. Did you send them?” Rebecca dried her hands on a paper towel and walked into his hug. He kissed her neck and she backed away. “Don’t start that again.”

He grinned. “Why not?”

“Because I have an order to get ready.”

“Oh well. Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”

“Come into the kitchen with me. I haven’t had a chance to tell you about the circle the other night.”

“Oh, yeah. How did that go?”

Rebecca whistled a long descending note as she grabbed a mixing bowl and started gathering her ingredients.

“That bad?”

“I don’t know what to think. I wasn’t even sure if I should tell you about it. You don’t really believe in magic and you’ll think I’m loony tunes.”

“I know you, Rebecca. You’re not crazy. And as far as I know, you’ve never lied to me. Hell, you don’t even embellish the truth.”

She smiled. “Goddess willing, I never will. I’m happy you trust me.”

“Completely. Now, go ahead. You can tell me anythin’.”

She sighed. “Okay…here goes. The new high priestess…well, I’ll get to her in a minute. The big news is teleportation.”

“Telewhat?”

“Two members of our coven just up and disappeared, then rematerialized right in front of us.”

Drew didn’t react. How could he? He’d just told her she could tell him anything and he wouldn’t mistake her for crazy or call her a liar. Now she sounded like a crazy liar! “What the fuck?”

She whirled on him with one hand on her hip. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Whoa. I didn’t say that. I was surprised is all. I shouldn’t use profanity in front of a lady, though. I apologize for that.”

She gave him a sad smile and turned back to her baking. “I don’t blame you. I think most of us had the same reaction.”

“So, who did this teleportin’?”

“You remember Cassandra? Her witch name is Celestia.”

“Yeah. I remember her. The blonde, right?”

“There are a few blondes, but she’s one of them…probably the only natural one.”

“Yeah. Anyway…You’re sayin’ she just up and disappeared? Where did she go?”

“She was doing a spell to have tenure at her job and suddenly…poof! A few seconds later she reappeared and said she’d accidentally gone to her lecture hall at the University.”

Again, Dru had no idea what to say.
Cool? Holy figgin’ shit?
No idea. So he just remained silent and let Rebecca continue.

“If that wasn’t enough, Abigail—you know, Ariel, decided to try it on purpose.”

“And?”

“And she was gone a little longer. We were getting really worried when she reappeared with a new scarf around her neck. She said she got it in Paris.”

Drew’s jaw dropped and his mouth went dry. He couldn’t have expressed a thought if he’d wanted to.

Rebecca had measured her dry ingredients and whisked them together. She proceeded to the fridge and took out milk and butter as if she’d just told him the sky was blue.

He cleared his throat. “So, what did the others think about it?”

“We were all pretty stunned. Keith was almost angry. Hanna wouldn’t admit to trying it, but she didn’t freak out. The new high priestess acted like it was no big deal. She asked if anyone else wanted to try it.”

“And?”

“And the general consensus was ‘thanks but no thanks.’”

Drew shook his head hard. “Well, don’t that put pepper in the gumbo?”

“Huh?”

“Nuthin’. Just another expression, but nicer.”

A pensive silence filled the kitchen. Drew wondered if something like that could have happened to Shasta. Maybe she tried teleporting and didn’t know how to get back.

“So how does it work?”

Rebecca shrugged. “It’s magic. Are you asking how magic works?”

“No. I understand that’s the Goddess’s doin’. I was wonderin’ how they got where they wanted to go? I take it they knew how to get back, because they both returned.”

“Apparently, they just thought about where they most wanted to be. When they wanted to come back in the hotel suite, they concentrated on it and reappeared.”

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s cousin.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Drew studied her as she folded the dry ingredients into the wet. “Do you think you could do it now?”

“Me? Eesh, I hope not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have two dozen cupcakes to make.” She grinned, then turned the mixer on.

I wonder if I could do it.
Dru thought about the ranch. He closed his eyes and pictured it in acute detail. The dusty dirt roads from the main house to the bunk houses and barns. The smell of manure and hay. He even felt the sun beating down on his back and shoulders.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Rebecca’s beautiful backside, surrounded by an industrial kitchen.
I guess if it was easy, we’d all be doin’ it.

Or maybe he was right where he wanted to be.

“Now I wish I could get back into the coven.” Dru sat with Hanna at the small table in the bakery’s kitchen. “I understand I’m not nearly ready, but I’d like to get ready.”
In case I decide to stay here in the pleasant Northeast.
There had been a few days in the nineties, but it was nothing like the Texas summer.

“Why? Are you interested in the religious aspect or the magic you can do?”

“Both.”

She nodded slowly and appeared to be mulling it over. “Most people are only interested in the magical portion. Are you willing to embrace the Goddess and celebrate the sabbats, even if you have no spells to cast at that time?”

“Yes. I want to learn, and Myranda’s classes don’t jive with my helpin’ Rebecca. I was hoping you’d have a suggestion. I can read books, go on the Internet—”

Hanna held up her hand. “Stop right there. Don’t use the Internet to learn beginner’s Wicca. You think that love spell went wrong? You should see some of the stupidity posted—or rather, you
shouldn’t
see it. Nobody should.”

“Okay. No Internet.”

She smiled slyly. “Do you like computers, Dru?”

“Right now all I have is my phone, but I like to browse interesting sites, keep in touch with old friends from school, that sort of thing. Why do you ask?”

She took a sip of her tea. “Just curious.” She reached into her black tote bag embroidered with a gold pentagram and produced a book. “I had a feeling this is why you called me.”

Dru smiled. “I keep forgettin’ how psychic you are.”
There’s that sly smile again. What’s she up to?

She handed him a book by Laurie Cabot. “Read this first. If you have any questions Rebecca can’t answer, you can always call Myranda or Yvonne. If they’re stumped—which I highly doubt, you can call me.”

“The biggest wish I had seems to stump everyone. No disrespect intended.”

She sighed. “I know. You desperately want to find your sister, and all I can tell you is you’re very close.”

He sat up straighter. “
Very
close? You’re sure? What do you mean? Close time-wise or close distance-wise?”

“Both. I’d be surprised if you haven’t crossed paths already.”

“Shoot! I knew that girl looked familiar.”

Hanna tipped her head. “You saw her?”

“I thought I did. Ethan said he might have seen her too. Apparently she’s been changin’ her hair color like she used to change her clothes…which was all the time.”

“Young people her age experiment with different looks.”

“I know, but you were talking about an internal change earlier. Now you think it’s external too?”

“You tell me.”

“I saw someone during the zombie race. Her eyes were blue, but her hair was all wrong.”

“What was different about the girl you saw? Just her hair color?”

“Not just. It was short and she had bangs. Shasta would never have cut her hair like that. And the color—way off. It was kind of dark blonde and dull. What she used to call ‘dishwater blonde.’”

“Did she used to spend a lot of time in the sun?”

“Yes, ma’am. She was outdoors as much as possible.”

Hanna sighed. “Ever hear of the sun lightening blond hair?”

“Well, yeah. What are you sayin’? Maybe she’s indoors a lot now?”

“Maybe she’s trying to return to her natural color, but black to blonde is quite a leap. It could be that she went with a more natural tone to match the roots. Women do that if they’re sick of dying their hair. Witches tend to go natural. You said she’s Wiccan, right?”

“Yes. Very much so. That’s why I was sure I’d find her in your company.”

“Hmmm…”

“What are you thinkin’?”

“Is there any chance she’s lost her memory?”

Dru’s jaw dropped. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Maybe she looked right at him in that zombie race and didn’t
remember
him. That would explain the internal change. “Fuck.”

Hanna chuckled. “No thank you, but Rebecca might be up for it.”

Dru laughed. He felt lighter as hope filtered in.

That lasted about two seconds. Rebecca’s panicked voice called out, “Dru? Dru! Come quick.”

Dru jumped up and dashed to the storefront.
Whoa!
Some guy was holding Rebecca at gunpoint. He raised his voice, so Hanna could, hopefully, overhear. “Put down the gun. We don’t want any trouble.”

Hanna strode around the corner and folded her arms. “Really? Some idiot’s stupid enough to hold up the Bewitching Bakery?”

“Stay where you—”

Hanna snapped her fingers, and the guy froze mid-sentence.

Dru switched on the safety and pried the gun from the criminal’s warm hand. Then he yanked the guy’s arm away from Rebecca and she stepped out of his grasp.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank Goddess you were here, Hanna. I don’t know how to do that yet.”

Dru waved a hand in front of the guy’s eyes. He didn’t move or blink. In fact, his mouth was still forming his next word—‘ah.’ He had a Boston accent.

“What did he want, hon? Was it a plain old robbery or some goon lookin’ for your dad’s gambling debt?”

“Dru!” Rebecca’s face reddened and she glanced at Hanna.

“He’s not telling me anything I didn’t already know,” Hanna said.

Psychics.
He’d have shaken his head, but she pulled him out of the hot water he’d just dunked himself in.

Rebecca wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Yes. He was looking for the money, or the
For Sale
sign out front.”

“Don’t sell,” Hanna said. “Bind the bastard.”

“That’s just it. I did. Only it was a couple of different bastards last time.”

“Shoot. I hate when they have accomplices.” Hanna glanced around. “What do we have to tie him up with? I think a truth spell is in order.”

Rebecca snapped her fingers. “Brilliant. Can you carry him into the kitchen, Dru?

One last pass around his body and he was completely cocooned in plastic wrap. Rebecca cut off the excess and stepped back so Hanna could do her truth spell.

Hanna had raided Rebecca’s altar drawers in order to find what she needed, and was now mixing herbs together in a mini cauldron. She touched the top of the dried contents with a match and fire sprang up. She waited until the fire went out on its own, then waved the resulting smoke under the gangster’s nose.

“What do we say to do the spell?” Rebecca asked.

“To bind the spell well every time, try to say the words in rhyme.”

Rebecca groaned. “I’m so not good at that.”

Hanna chuckled.

The gunman awoke with a start, then frowned and gazed down at his body as he tried in vain to move. “What the fuck?”

Hanna waved another curl of smoke under his nose. He seemed to relax, but still regarded the others warily.

“Speak your truth, whole and complete. Do not try to hide or cheat.” Rebecca folded her arms and tried to look tough.

“We have a few questions,” Hanna said. “You will answer them fully and truthfully.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re under my influence and I asked you to. What is your name?”

“Terrance Fritz Mikuluck, but I prefer to be called Terror.”

Dru glanced at Rebecca. “Yup. Anyone who fesses up to a name like that must be under a truth spell.”

Hanna hushed him with a stern look. “Rebecca, why don’t you ask him what you want to know.”

“Okay.” She stepped into the guy’s line of vision and took a deep breath. “Who sent you?”

“My boss. Marvelous Marv.”

“Does he have a more official name?”

“I don’t know it.”

“What about the other two guys who came here before? One was short with a moustache and the other was tall with a scar across his cheek. Did they work for Marv?”

“Yes. Dom and Fred. They got homesick. Went back to their families in New Jersey.”

“Hmmm…” Dru whispered to Hanna. “Does that mean Rebecca’s bindin’ spell worked?”

Hanna nodded.

“Impressive,” he murmured.

“What does Marv want?”

“He wants his money. He loaned your father two hundred grand. He owes three-hundred grand now with the interest. You’re supposed to come up with it by Sunday or sell the place and give him the cash.”

“What if I can’t?”

“He said if you don’t, I can break your left leg. Next time, your right leg.”

“Like hell,” Dru exclaimed.

Shock waves ripped through Rebecca. If Terry hadn’t been under a truth spell, she’d have thought he was bluffing.

Dru stepped up and curled his arm around her. “Let me ask a couple of questions.”

She nodded numbly and the guy’s gaze shifted to Dru.

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Marv.”

“I don’t know where Marv is at the moment. He moves around. He has lots of other guys working for him. We’re all good at breaking legs.”

“Oh!” Rebecca squeaked. Her hands covered her mouth.
I need to let Dru finish the questioning.
She had a feeling his head was clearer at the moment. Rebecca wanted to cry, but she had to hold her emotions in check.

“How many other guys work for Marv?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen half a dozen. He’s not just a loan shark. He has other businesses too. Drugs and guns mostly. ”

Rebecca’s knees gave way and she sagged to the floor. “Dammit…”

Hanna helped her onto a chair and gave her a paper bag to breathe into. “I—I’m fine. We’ll need to get the police involved. I’m sure of that now.”

Dru twisted to glance at Hanna. “Will the police believe you if you say you used a truth spell to get the information?”

Hanna smirked. “I can use another spell if they don’t.”

He smiled. “Witches come in handy when you need one. Rebecca, I’ll call the cops.” He took his cell phone out of his pocket.

Hanna nodded. “They may know who this Marvelous Marv is. If not, this guy will keep telling the truth as long as I have him under the spell.”

“How can you guarantee he’ll tell the truth if the police take over?” Dru asked.

Hanna shrugged. “Who said I was going to release him from the spell?” Hanna stepped in front of the man and focused on his eyes. “I want you to waive your right to a phone call and a lawyer. You will tell the police everything…and you’ll sign a full confession.”

They guy looked horror stricken. “Everything? I don’t even remember some of the stuff I’ve done. Like, when I was an altar boy…”

Hanna pinched the bridge of her nose. “I mean everything related to this loan shark and drug dealer, including his sending you here and what you did today.”

The guy nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll be going to jail, now.”

“Maybe this is a message from the universe, telling me to sell the business and go to work for someone else.” Rebecca dropped onto her living room sofa.

“No,” Dru said. He sat next to her and curled an arm around her shoulder. “You’ll regret it and you shouldn’t have to pay for your father’s stupidity. The police are onto them now, and they said they’ll patrol the neighborhood more frequently.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure. That’ll help. They could have rolled by when Terry Fritz was holding a gun to my head and they’d have missed it. I don’t exactly have wall-to-wall windows here.”