Enchanted Island Mysteries : Serena & Grant

  Enchanted Island Mysteries

  Jenna St. James

  Copyright © 2021 by Jenna St. James.

  Published by Jenna St. James

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Secrets, Soul Cakes, & Murder

  Chapter 1

  “May I have one of your Samhain Soul Cakes, Serena?”

  I looked up from the display case and smiled at Gertrude Anise, one of the oldest yet kindest witches on Enchanted Island. Her jaundice skin, large hawk-like nose, and hairy warts also made her one of the scariest-looking witches on the island. She smiled, and I barely suppressed a grimace. The absentminded witch had forgotten her dentures again.

  “You sure can,” I said. “And you’re in luck. Since I’m closing the shop in a few minutes, how about I throw in the last two for free?”

  Gertrude banged her wooden staff on the ground and cackled. “Oh, Serena Spellburn, aren’t you just the sweetest thing.”

  I owned Enchanted Bakery & Brew with my best friend and roommate Tamara Gardener. We’d both grown up on the island, left to attend culinary school on the mainland, and after earning dual baking and pastry degrees, decided to come back and open our own shop. Of course, it took us a while to find a suitable building downtown, scrape up enough money for a down payment and buying supplies, but we finally did it. The bakery and coffee shop had been open for three years now.

  “Will I see you tomorrow night at the Samhain Celebration?” Gertrude asked.

  “You bet. Tamara and I are baking the pies for the pie eating contest.”

  Gertrude cackled. “I still remember what happened last year.”

  I winced. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  I rang her up, handed her the bag, and followed her to the door. With one last wave goodbye, I locked the door and turned the sign to CLOSED.

  Because I was in a hurry to clean up, I did something I don’t normally do…I used a little magic to make tidying up faster. Usually I enjoyed opening and closing the store. Tamara and I both did. We arrived around four or four-thirty to start prepping for the day, and then we closed the store at three. One of us cleans while the other counts the till and does office work or ordering. It was a system that had worked well for us.

  But today I had to be at city hall by four o’clock for a last-minute meeting. Mayor Stone wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page for the Samhain Celebration starting at sundown tomorrow.

  Once the till had been counted, I grabbed two cold coffees from the refrigerator, dumped in some ice, and headed out the back of the store to my car. Normally I’d just walk the two blocks to city hall, but since I didn’t want to waste time by coming back after the meeting to get my car, I decided to drive over.

  Enchanted Island had a population around ten thousand, give or take, with the downtown being the heart and soul of the whole island. You could pretty much find any store you needed—mainly because no one really ever wanted to leave the island to shop on the mainland. We felt safe here. And by “we,” I mean the nearly ten thousand supernaturals that called Enchanted Island home.

  Not everyone who lived here was a supernatural. Sometimes there was a generational gene skip in families, or as was the case with the new detective in town, Grant Wolfe, his dad had been adopted and raised on the island before moving away years ago. Now Grant was back as the new departmental detective. Even though we didn’t have a lot of crime on Enchanted Island, there was still enough to need law enforcement.

  I parked in the city hall parking lot and lifted my coffee in greeting when I saw Tamara standing near her boyfriend’s car. I didn’t particularly like Jack Luckett, but I loved my best friend, so I tried as hard as I could to support the relationship. Thankfully they were coming up on their one-month anniversary…pretty much the kiss of death. I’d known Jack Luckett my entire life, and he’d never had a relationship that lasted longer than a month. All that was left was the breakup.

  I was about to veer over to them, when I noticed the narrowed eyes and pinched lips on Tamara’s face. If that wasn’t a telling sign of her anger, the finger pounding to Jack’s chest was a dead giveaway.

  “That doesn’t look good.”

  I glanced over at Martin Wulfton. I hadn’t heard him sidle up to me. “Sure doesn’t. But I can’t say it’s a surprise.”

  A couple cars driving by slowed down to watch Tamara and Jack fight. I had no doubt the gossip mill would be hot tonight and by six o’clock everyone on the island would know about the argument in the middle of the city hall parking lot.

  “At least it’s over,” I said. “I wouldn’t say that to her, but I’m glad she’s finally seeing his true colors.”

  “I’m just sorry for Tamara.” He held the door open for me. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

  “He doesn’t deserve to live,” Daisy Woods said from behind the welcome desk. “He’s a thief that needs to be stopped.”

  Daisy had been Jack’s last girlfriend—or maybe the girlfriend before that…it was hard to remember. But she was newly dumped and obviously still bitter. Usually the petite blonde with short, curly hair, big green eyes, and infectious laugh was bubbly and cheerful. It was unnerving to hear her speak so harshly.

  “The mayor is waiting for you.” Daisy had been the mayor’s secretary now for about five years. She was a couple years older than me, but we traveled in the same circles. “Don’t worry. I’ll send in Tamara when she finishes raking that no-good loser over the coals.”

  I blinked in surprise at her language. “Do you know what the fight is about?”

  Daisy bit her lip and looked away. “I don’t really want to say. I’m sure she’ll want to tell you herself.”

  “Oh please,” a female voice said behind me, “like we don’t all know what that’s about.”

  Rose Winterbourne was every inch her name. Pale, alabaster skin, white-blonde hair that hung straight down her back, and ice-blue eyes. She had a penchant for wearing all white clothes. The only color she ever wore was her signature blood-red lipstick.

  “Jack is once again being Jack,” Rose said. “But really, who here is surprised? Jack is a user and a taker. He enjoys taking things that don’t belong to him. It’s in his nature to be a deceiver.”

  Now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure at one time Rose had dated Jack too. I was also pretty sure I was the only person on the island under forty and older than twenty who hadn’t succumbed to his charm.

  And that’s really what Jack had…in spades.

  Jack’s parents were both leprechauns. Not like the kind you see on TV. Jack doesn’t wear all green, or talk with an Irish accent, and he’s actually quite tall. Leprechauns were gifted, lucky, charming, but also cunning. And that was exactly Jack. He had a prosperous business, he was naturally charismatic and friendly…but he could also be devious. Jack’s deceitful nature wasn’t in his business dealings, though, it was in his relationships. Hence his tendency to attract women and then cheat on them.

  “Are we ready to get started?” Mayor Stone’s voice boomed out from his office.

  “Just about, sir,” Daisy said. “We are waiting for one more.”

  Mayor Stone appeared in the doorway of his office. He was a large man standing over six feet tall, wide, linebacker shoulders and chest, and was a solid two hundred fifty pounds. His black hair was threaded with
silver, especially around the temples, and he was movie star handsome with dark blue eyes and a sharply chiseled face. “Show that person in when they get here. I’m ready to go.”

  The front door burst open, and a red-faced and red-eyed Tamara blew in. “Sorry I’m late, Mayor.”

  “Not late at all,” he said smoothly. “Come inside and we’ll get started.”

  Chapter 2

  “You okay?” I handed Tamara the other iced coffee and sat next to her at the long oak table in the mayor’s office.

  “No,” she whispered. “But we can talk about it later.”

  Mayor Stone brought us to order, and soon we were discussing events like the three-legged zombie race, pumpkin carving contest, bobbing for poisonous apples, and other fun amusements for the kids and adults.

  “Serena and Tamara, you are down for six pies,” Mayor Stone said. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “We’ll bring them with us.”

  “Sounds great,” he said. “The contest starts at eight, so as long as I have them by seven-thirty that’s fine.”

  I smiled. “We’ll be at the festival by six, so plenty of time.”

  Mayor Stone nodded. “Very good.”

  The mayor spoke a little longer about where certain booths would be set up, what time workers needed to be at the park, and then finally adjourned the meeting. Tamara and I stood to leave, but the mayor called us over. Everyone else gave us knowing smiles and quickly exited the room.

  Mayor Stone was a gargoyle…which meant he was fiercely protective and watched over the town with the same loyal passion. He’d been our mayor for as long as I could remember, as had his father before him.

  “I was wondering what kind of pies you were making this year?” he mused.

  I hid my smile behind my coffee cup. I knew what he was politely hinting at. Last year, Tamara and I had made the mistake of baking cherry pies. Perfectly normal for a human pie eating contest. But not for a supernatural contest.

  When the elderly vampire, Stewart Bloodworth, had looked up and grinned a very fangy grin after he finished his pie—his very red cherry pie—the crowd of onlookers had forever been traumatized. Red pie filling covered his mouth and chin and globs had even plopped onto the table as he preened with excitement. Little kids screamed and called out for their parents, and a couple old ladies even fainted.

  It didn’t matter that vampires on Enchanted Island didn’t feed like they once did…the damage had been done. Poor Stewart had been devastated when he realized what had happened. Even his own family had stood by looking on in horror at their dad and grandpa.

  “We were thinking apple pies this year,” Tamara said. “We went over different scenarios and didn’t see anything bad happening with apple pie filling.”

  I snorted. I couldn’t help it. Mainly because Tamara was telling the truth. We thought of every supernatural that might enter the contest and figured we were safe with apple filling.

  Mayor Stone cleared his throat, but I could see he was trying not to smile. “Well, I think apple pies are a wonderful choice this year. We don’t want a repeat of last year.”

  And then we all burst out laughing.

  “Thank you for understanding,” he said when we’d settled back down. “See you girls tomorrow.”

  I locked arms with Tamara, and together we walked out into the front entrance. Daisy waved goodbye from behind the welcome desk as we stepped outside into the cool dusk air. It wasn’t quite five o’clock, but the sun was about to set. The street lights in the parking lot were on, helping to illuminate the four cars.

  “Meetcha back at home,” I said.

  We were almost to our cars when Tamara let out a sigh. “Looks like Jack left me a note.”

  I gave her a squeeze around her waist then looked over at her car three spaces down from mine. “You okay? Want me to get it?”

  “Would you?”

  “You bet.”

  We strolled over to her car, and reaching out, I dislodged and read the note aloud. “I know he took it. Your boyfriend is dead if he doesn’t give it back.”

  Neither of us spoke for about three seconds.

  “What the heck?” I demanded. “What’s going on? Is this about Jack?”

  “I don’t know,” Tamara admitted. “I guess so. But I don’t know what they’re talking about. Give what back?”

  I turned and looked her in the eye. “What’s going on? Why were you two arguing?”

  She sighed and laid her head on my shoulder. “You were right about him. I mean, I knew it deep down, but I wanted to believe him when he said he’d changed.” I waited silently for her to continue. “I caught him making out with Dawnya.”

  I sputtered. “Dawnya? You mean Dawnya from the Dairy Drive? What is she, twelve?”

  Tamara laughed. “Twenty.”

  “What a dirt bag. Want to put a spell on him tonight?” I wiggled my fingers in the air. “Maybe a little hex?”

  “No.” Tamara opened her car door. “Maybe?”

  I laughed. “That’s my girl! I’ll get out the spell book when we get home and see what we can come up with.”

  Chapter 3

  I was more than a little shocked the next day when Tamara barreled through the front door of our bakery. Last night, after a long crying jag and a bottle of wine, she decided it would be better if she stayed home and baked the pies if I was sure I could open and close without her.

  “What I wouldn’t give to snap his pretty little neck,” Tamara growled as she cut the line in half, circled the counter, and grabbed her apron off a peg.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  I saw the eager faces looking for a morsel of gossip to take with them along with their goodies, but there was no sense trying to keep Tamara from venting. It wouldn’t do any good.

  “What’s going on is that Jack stopped by to get some of his things he left at our house,” she replied tersely as she tied the apron behind her. “And I wanted nothing to do with him.”

  “Good for you girl,” Millie Thornewhistle said. “That boy ain’t nothin’ but trouble. Always has been. I taught him all four years of high school English. The boy never could focus long enough to finish a story. Why should his life be any different?”

  I blinked in surprise. Mrs. Thornewhistle was probably on to something with that line of thought.

  “You left him alone at your house?” Rose Winterbourne asked. “That’s awful trusting of you. I’ll take a Samhain Soul Cake and an espresso to go.”

  Tamara turned to make the espresso while I gathered up Rose’s soul cake, put it in a bag, and handed it to her then turned to the next customer.

  “I took precautions, Rose. It’s okay.” Tamara slid the espresso to Rose, rang her up, then turned to make the next drink.

  We worked side by side for a few minutes, neither of us talking, rushing around and getting orders filled.

  “I don’t want to talk out of turn,” Berta Caston said, “but I think you should know, Tamara, that I recently overheard Daisy tell someone that Jack stole something from her and she wanted it back. It might not be wise to leave him alone at your house.”

  I frowned. “Daisy accused Jack of stealing?”

  “I’ve heard the same thing,” another lady whose name I couldn’t place spoke up. “I don’t know what it was, but she said he stole it and she wants it back.”

  Just like the note from last night said.

  Fifteen minutes later, after the customers had cleared out for the lunch rush, I leaned against the counter and smiled at Tamara. “You doing okay?”

  Her lower lip trembled. “I think so.”

  “Did you get the pies baked?”

  “I have two left. I’ll pop them in the oven when we get home.” She swiped at a tear in the corner of her eye. “I just couldn’t stay there any longer. He tried to give me some song and dance about how he was in big trouble, and he just needed a place to lay low.”

  “Did you tell him about the
note on your car?” I asked.

  “No. I didn’t want to hear his lies anymore, so I told him to just get his stuff and get out. To be on the safe side, I put a ward over the house so he couldn’t take anything out that wasn’t his. Then I left.”

  “Good riddance.”

  Tamara snorted. “I could use a stiff drink.”

  “You know the strongest elixir we have here is black coffee.”

  “How about a double mocha?”

  I shrugged. “Why not. We’ve earned it. I think we’ve also earned an early day.” I started making the mocha. “Whaddya say we close early and go home and bake those last two pies? Maybe even have a glass of wine before we get ready to go to the festival tonight?”

  Tamara grinned. “Sounds good.”

  I’d just handed her the mocha when her phone dinged.

  “It’s a text from Jack,” she said.

  “What’s it say?”

  She gasped and tears filled her eyes. “Lucy look up.”

  My face went hot, and I had to take a couple deep breaths to calm down. When I got angry, my powers tended to surge. And that was never good. My dad died in a boating accident before I was born, and all I really knew about him was that on top of being a witch, his side also had dragon in their bloodline. Hence the last name Spellburn. Fire was my element.

  “Give me that phone,” I said between clenched teeth.

  “What’re you going to do?” Tamara asked as she reluctantly handed it over. More than once I’d let my hot head get control of me and Tamara had to rein me back in.

  “Give him a piece of my mind.” I quickly typed back the response: “Wrong girl, jerk! This isn’t Lucy.”

  A few seconds later another text from Jack. “I am my namesake.”

  I quickly typed back: “What? Jack the Destroyer? Jack the Homewrecker? Jack the Jerk? Don’t bother Tamara again, or I’ll make sure fire rains down from heaven onto you!”

  Another text. “I’m sorry.”

  My reply: “You’re gonna be sorry if you contact us again!” I handed her back the phone. “That should get rid of him once and for all.”