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I scanned the street as I dialed. “Brenda was here.” My voice was quiet, but urgent.
“I’m on my way.” Violet hung up. I felt better knowing she’d be there soon. Violet and I had a rocky relationship. Back when I was running the pie shop alone, she’d kept coming in looking for Aunt Erma and making accusations. At the time, I’d thought she was a health inspector. I later learned she was a magic inspector, and a good person to have on your side.
I made my way back down the alley to the pie shop. I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder a few times to check if Brenda was following me. Those green eyes. They were burned into my memory, and I would be perfectly happy never seeing them again.
Aunt Erma’s cries echoed into the empty alley and I ran through the open back door. She was leaning over the kitchen island, breathing hard. Her gray hair was a frizzy mess and her felt antlers were askew. A rolling pin was on the floor and a few of the pies we’d had cooling on the counter were now splattered across the kitchen.
“What happened?” I rushed over to Aunt Erma, my eyes scanning over her, looking for injuries.
“She was here. She got more.” She pointed to the box of magic spices on the edge of the kitchen counter. Two more bottles were missing. My heart sank.
Brenda must have circled back when I had chased her. How could I have let this happen? I should have stayed by the pie shop.
Now they had three bottles.
“Are you okay?” I asked. I put my hand on her shoulder, still looking to see if she’d been hurt.
“I fought her off. But not before …” Aunt Erma looked at the spice box, still breathing hard. “I had the advantage. She couldn’t use her magic in here, but she had the element of surprise on her side.”
Violet rushed in, her eyes wild.
“The Magic Enforcement Officers are out looking for her.” She grabbed Aunt Erma’s arm and looked her over. “Are you okay?”
Aunt Erma nodded and stood up a little straighter. “I’m fine. Brenda’s probably long gone by now.” Violet nodded. “She came out of nowhere. I didn’t expect her to come when I was right here. But she didn’t hold back. She’s desperate.”
“It’s my fault,” I burst out. They both turned toward me, surprised. “I ran after her down the alley. I should have stayed.” It all seemed so obvious now. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked Aunt Erma.
“I’m fine, and absolutely none of this is your fault,” she said firmly. She smoothed her hair down. “What’s the next step?”
“For you, nothing,” Violet said.
“But they’re my spices,” Aunt Erma protested.
“And as soon as we find them, you’ll be the first person we call. Until then, open the pie shop, and keep your eyes peeled.” As though on cue, there was a knock on the front door of the shop.
“I should be out there looking!”
“Erma.” Violet’s voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. “We have our best people on it. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”
Aunt Erma hesitated, then nodded.
There was another knock on the front door, and Violet slipped out the back.
Aunt Erma and I looked at each other for a minute. I bent down, picked up the rolling pin off the floor, and put it in the sink.
We plastered smiles on our faces and opened the pie shop to a small, anxious crowd who burst in full of holiday energy.
“So sorry. Everything’s fine. We just lost track of time,” Aunt Erma assured everyone as we quickly worked to serve them.
I kept picturing Brenda’s icy stare and tried not to visibly shudder. We couldn’t let word get out about the stolen spices. The last thing we needed was widespread panic. I looked at the crowd chatting about their holiday plans and felt envious of their ignorance. I wished I could focus on gift-giving and meal preparations and out-of-town guests instead of panicking about an impending magical disaster.
When I looked at Aunt Erma, I could see no trace of this morning’s traumatic events. She was steady and calm, laughing and joking with the customers. I envied her ability to compartmentalize.
***
Aunt Erma had let it slip once just how dangerous it was that the Drakes had one bottle of spices. We had gone to Sal’s bar one night to celebrate. We were celebrating a lot of things these days – our reunion, the fact that Aunt Erma wasn’t a cat anymore, years of missed holidays and birthdays – and Aunt Erma had introduced me to a drink called a Fairy’s Foot. I was a little hesitant because the name did not sound at all appealing, but it was actually quite delicious. Like drinking a chocolate milkshake. The smooth sweet flavor hid the fact that the drink packed quite a punch, and by our second glass Aunt Erma had completely lost her filter and was sharing information about her love life that would have made me blush if I hadn’t already been flushed from the drink.
“Make sure you find someone with good hands,” she was saying firmly. “The hands are just as important as the …”
“No!” I clapped my hands over my ears. “Tell me something else.”
She giggled. “Fine.” She took a deep breath. “I’m worried.”
“About what?”
“The missing spice bottle. Spice number three. Three, three, bo, bee.” She paused to take a sip of her drink. “The things they can do with that magic.” She shook her head.
“Like what?” I asked. My experience with the spices was limited, but I didn’t understand what would be so bad about them.
“The magic in them is so powerful because of the secret ingredient. That’s why you have to be careful to use just a little bit in the pies and make sure you’re focusing on the proper intention when you add them. I’ll explain it more to you one day. Maybe when I’m sober-er.” She clinked my glass with hers and began talking about highly inappropriate things again before I could ask her what the secret ingredient was.
Flora, Lena, and Mr. Barnes, more affectionately known as the Morning Pie Crew, rushed in the minute there was a lull. Flora’s bookshop was kitty corner from the pie shop, and I sometimes wondered how much of her day was spent peering in our windows. She always seemed to have a pretty good handle on what was happening in the pie shop.
Lena’s white hair was piled on top of her head in its usual bun, but her ever-smiling face was creased with worry. Flora’s big brown eyes scanned us up and down as though searching for injuries. Mr. Barnes was wearing his usual matching fedora and vest. He put his hands on my and Aunt Erma’s shoulders. I immediately felt some of my anxiety slip away. Mr. Barnes was a yoga teacher, and he specialized in calming magic.
“Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?” Their voices filled the shop as they anxiously turned from Aunt Erma to me and back again.
“Yes, we’re fine.” Aunt Erma waved them away and started pulling plates out so she could serve them pie.
“How did you guys even know that Brenda was here?” I asked.
“Violet called me to ask if I’d seen anything,” Flora explained, fiddling with the sparkly white flower pin on her sweater. “I didn’t. I can’t believe I wasn’t watching.”
“Sit, and we’ll have our pie,” Aunt Erma demanded. I could tell some of her confidence was an act by the way she aggressively cut into the pies and scooped them out onto their plates. She didn’t like to be vulnerable.
I carefully took the plates from her and set them on the table.
“How’s everyone doing today?” I asked, giving them each a meaningful look.
They took the hint and struck up a conversation about today’s Ask Elodie, an advice column in the local paper. Today’s column was about a husband who was going to miss the birth of his first child.
I was one of two people in town who knew that Henry was actually Elodie. He liked to keep that secret because he didn’t want people hounding him when they didn’t agree with his advice. Plus, I think the mystery made people more intrigued by the column.
Flora couldn’t help herself for long though.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I heard her quietly ask Aunt Erma while Mr. Barnes and Lena argued about what constituted a good excuse for missing the birth of your child.
“We’ll get the spices back and everything will be fine,” Aunt Erma said.
She’d no sooner gotten the words out when Violet rushed in, her usually slicked-down hair now stuck out in a messy halo around her head.
“Come with me. It’s already happening,” she said urgently.
Aunt Erma jumped up and the rest of us followed suit.
“Since you all already know about Brenda and the stolen spices, you might as well make yourselves useful,” Violet said, a hint of her sternness returning. She turned to Flora. “Can we use your basement?”
The bookstore had a basement? I’d been there several times, but I’d only seen stairs going up to Flora’s apartment. Never a set going down.
“Of course,” Flora said. We left our half-eaten slices of pie and filed out the door. I reached back in to hang the “Back in ten minutes” sign before locking up.
Like soldiers getting ready for battle, we marched across the street to Flora’s. She led us to a small door in the back of the shop. Everyone but Flora had to crouch down to get through it.
We went down a dark narrow staircase to a room below. It was warm and cozy with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with old volumes. There was a quiet anxiousness in the room as Violet strode over to a computer with a large screen that sat on a deep mahogany desk. While we waited, Mr. Barnes cleaned his thick-rimmed glasses on the corner of his bright blue shirt. Lena reached over and patted down a stray chunk of his white hair that was sticking straight up on his head after he’d taken his hat off.
“Sit,” Violet demanded. We gathered chairs from around the room and pulled them up to the computer screen. I wasn’t sure what we were about to see. I smiled at Lena, hoping for reassurance, and she flashed a quick smile back at me. Her bright blue eyes lacked their usual twinkle. Violet stuck a thumb drive in the computer, and a black and white video started playing. It was taken from a high angle, looking down at a crowd walking along the street. A cloud descended on the group. It was hard to see exactly what it was in the grainy picture, but suddenly the people were taking slow, even steps. Some of them turned so they were all heading in the same direction. I shivered a little at the sight. Then suddenly everyone stopped walking. People looked around as though confused, and the crowd dispersed.
“They must be having trouble making the effects last very long,” Mr. Barnes said.
“But they’re going to make progress more quickly now that they have more spices to work with,” Aunt Erma said.
The video skipped ahead, and Stan’s parents popped up on the screen. Even in the fuzzy footage, I could recognize them. They were walking along, stopped, and looked straight into the camera.
“That’s strange,” Flora said, her brown eyes narrowed. “They know the camera is there. Why don’t they hide themselves better? They could have erased the footage if they really wanted to.”
“I thought so too,” Violet said. “The only conclusion I could come to is they wanted us to find them. That can only mean one thing. They’re trying to draw you out, Erma.”
All of our heads turned towards Aunt Erma. Her eyebrows were pinched together with worry, but she quickly rearranged her features into a brave face.
“If they want me, they’ll get me,” she said with a determined edge to her voice.
Chapter 2 (#ua92752a4-d33e-5aa4-9524-bd000b219827)
Dear Elodie,
Last week my cousin and her two young daughters were over at my house. I fed them a meal and snacks and drinks and made sure they had games to play with. When they left, I found my favorite porcelain duck statue in pieces and stuffed behind the sofa cushion. I called my cousin to confront her about it, and she denies that her daughters did anything wrong. No one else has been at my house lately. I’m blown away. I wasn’t looking for any monetary reimbursement, but I did expect an apology. I’m so mad right now, I don’t ever want them in my house again. How do I get past my anger if they won’t apologize?
Sincerely,
Decapitated Duck
Dear Decapitated Duck,
One word in your letter stuck out to me – confront. You called your cousin to confront her? Were you aggressive right off the bat? Sometimes when people feel attacked they respond with hostility. Yes, they should have admitted their wrongdoing, but maybe you should also re-examine how you handled their mistakes. Work toward forgiveness because your anger is hurting you more than anyone else.
Ask and I’ll Answer,
Elodie
The room erupted as everyone protested at once.
“I’m going with her,” I yelled over the noise.
“Neither of you is going anywhere until we figure out if this is a trap or not.” Flora pulled out her stern librarian voice that made me shrink back a little.
“I have to go,” Aunt Erma said, almost matching Flora’s firm tone. “I’m best suited for the job since it’s my magic they’re altering. You know how dangerous it could be if they’re successful. For everyone.”
“We’ve been looking for them for months,” Violet added. “Now we’ve seen them twice in one day? They must be gearing up for something.”
Everyone was silent for a minute.
“Susie, I’m not sure you should go, though,” Lena said. “I think I should go along with Erma.”
I bristled a little at her slightly condescending tone. I might be new to this magic thing, but I knew I could be helpful. I had taken karate for three years when I was in elementary school, and kickboxing for four years in college. There were some problems magic couldn’t solve and I was ready to face them.
“We should all go,” Mr. Barnes chimed in.
“That might draw too much attention,” Violet said.
“Susie will come with me,” Aunt Erma said firmly. “We’ll go and see what’s happening and report back.” Everyone nodded. I noticed that when Aunt Erma talked, people tended to agree with her.
“And I’ll keep an eye on you through the security cameras,” Violet said, pointing at the computer screen. She had paused the image on Dennis and Brenda, and I glared at them, trying to build up my confidence. If I could keep myself from being afraid of their image, then I could definitely take them on in person. I tried not to think about Brenda’s eyes.
“I’m going to need a little time to get ready,” Aunt Erma said. I saw calculating curiosity in Violet’s eyes.
“Fine,” she said with one curt nod. “But hurry.”
We emerged from the basement and headed our separate ways. Something about the way Flora hugged me before I left made my stomach clench. How dangerous was this going to be?
“Come with me.” Aunt Erma grabbed my hand and led me to her car.
“Are we going now?” I asked, unable to keep the panic out of my voice.
“No,” she said. “There’s something I want to show you.” I got in the car.
“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Aunt Erma ran to the pie shop. She only seemed to have one speed: fast. A minute later she appeared with her dog, Mitzy, close at her heels. Mitzy was a brown ball of fluff with boundless energy. Her large, expressive brown eyes reacted when you talked to her, showing a level of understanding that I often found unsettling.
Aunt Erma opened the back door and Mitzy hopped in. Her tail was wagging so hard I thought she might take flight.
“Mitzy loves a good car ride,” Aunt Erma explained. The dog heard her name and somehow took it as an invitation to leap from the back seat into my lap.
“Hi, Mitzy,” I said flatly. I loved Mitzy, really, but I was still getting used to this furry licking creature who lived life as if she did a shot of espresso every hour.
Aunt Erma drove through Hocus Hills, which currently looked as though Father Christmas had thrown up on every street corner. Lights twinkled on every tree and bush and along the front of every shop. I didn’t see a single door without a wreath and a very elaborate winter wonderland had been set up in the town square complete with nine reindeer, several elves, and Christmas fairies. There were also banners all over town advertising the upcoming snowman-building contest. “Erma’s Pies” was one of the sponsors, and Aunt Erma had been making me practice my snowman-building skills for the last two weeks.
We drove out of town and hit the highway.
“Where are we going?” I asked. The old, light blue car was finally warm, and I sank back into the brown velvet seats. Mitzy had settled down in my lap. Her previous excitement seemed to be wearing off.
