The book looked ancient. From its cracked leather binding to its brittle parchment-colored pages, the book exuded antiquity. It smelled ancient, too, giving off a slight whiff of vanilla mixed with something earthy and just a hint of mildew.
But even though it looked ancient, the printing was modern. The letters didn’t have the flourish of an old printing press, and the ingredients listed didn’t seem that old.
The recipes were a little usual. Grewel, wasters, and barley water weren’t exactly modern fare. I flipped the pages carefully, and the letters swam before my eyes. I blinked, and they came back into focus. Yep, definitely not that old.
“A pretty good replica,” I said as I flipped to the next page. Again, the letters seemed to transform before my eyes, and I squinted. The eye doctor had warned me that I would soon need reading glasses since I was in my late forties. I guessed the time had come. I made a mental note to make an eye doctor appointment.
“Mew!” Pandora, my cat, hopped up onto the counter. Every bookstore should have a cat, and Last Chance Books was no exception. I brought her to the store with me every day as my grandmother, who I’d inherited the shop and the cat from, had always done. Her sleek gray fur shone in the sunlight. She looked at me with reproachful, luminescent green eyes.
“What? It is a fake.”
She twitched her tail, the slight kink on the end pointing toward the recipe section of the bookstore as if trying to tell me something.
“Yes, I know it’s just a recipe book. Maybe it’s just made to look old as a gimmick or something.” I swear, the cat was almost human, and there were times when I actually thought she was trying to tell me something. But I also didn’t need her bossing me around. Naturally, I knew it belonged in the cookbook section of the store. But not just yet. I had a list of people wanting to buy quirky cookbooks with old-fashioned recipes, and if I could sell this one without even putting it on the shelf, all the better.
I rummaged through the filing drawer under the counter, pulled out the list, and scanned the names.
Mary Ashford, Sonja Peterson, Danielle Norden, and—ugh—Felicity Bates. I had forgotten that my arch-nemesis had asked to be put on a list for recipe books months ago. She would be the last person I called. Hopefully one of the others would buy the book first. Maybe it was childish, but I secretly didn’t want Felicity to have it, especially since I suspected she had designs on my boyfriend, Sheriff Eddie Striker.
“Speaking of Striker…” I glanced at the clock. It was almost time to meet him for our dinner picnic date.
“Merow?” Pandora brushed her cheek against the side of the box. Her eyes seemed a little brighter at the mention of Striker. I couldn’t blame her. He had that effect on people—and cats.
“I’m going to dinner with Striker. Picnic in the park. You’ll have to stay alone.” I grabbed my purse, my brain conjuring up visions of cold fried chicken and wine atop a red-checked blanket on the grass.
Pandora purred and licked her paws innocently, which made me nervous. On a few occasions when I’d left her alone in the bookstore, I thought I’d seen her wandering around town. But it couldn’t be. The store was locked, and there was no way for her to get out. Perhaps she had a doppelgänger.
I pulled the thick oak door open, flipped the closed sign, and took one last look at Pandora. She was lying on the counter, lazily twitching her tail as if to imply she was just going to lounge around in my absence, which made me very nervous.
My stomach grumbled, and I exited the shop, locking the door behind me. Hopefully, I wouldn’t return to find that she’d spooled the toilet paper off the roll or thrown up a hairball on the purple microsuede sofa. Her nonchalant demeanor on the counter gave me the feeling that something just wasn’t right.
* * *
Pandora jumped to her feet as soon as Willa walked past the window, her auburn curls bouncing as she practically skipped toward her date with Striker.
The book! There was something about it. Something magical. Something she should pay attention to.
She couldn’t blame Willa for not picking up on the special nature of the book. As one of the ancient cats of Mystic Notch, Pandora was privy to supernatural knowledge that mere humans could not fathom. She knew that there were certain relics hidden in town centuries ago, and if they fell into the wrong hands, Mystic Notch would not be the pleasant place it was now. Could the book be one of them?
“I told you there is a recipe for Robert Frosted Cookies in there.” The ghost of Robert Frost materialized on the other side of the counter, and next to him, the ghost of Franklin Pierce. Yes, the ghosts of the poet and president haunted the bookstore. They were both from New Hampshire and had been haunting the bookstore since Willa’s grandmother, Anna—Pandora’s most beloved human—had owned it.
The ghosts were always feuding and playing pranks on the bookstore guests. Of course, no one could see them, but Willa could, and of course Pandora could also.
“That doesn’t make you more important than me!” Franklin floated over and glared down at the book. “I bet they might have some Franklin Pierce Pies in there.”
Robert Frost laughed. “You have miles to go before you find a book with a recipe named after you.”
That was so like Robert, always working in a reference to one of his famous poems.
Franklin made a face. “I was president! People named many things after me!” He reached out for the book, managing to pick it up in his hand, which was unusual. Typically, the ghosts’ hands went through solid matter. This was further evidence that the book was enchanted.
“Oh, look!” Franklin held the book up, and it opened on its own, magically flipping through the pages. A subtle lavender glow appeared around the edges. “I think I see a Franklin Pierce Pumpkin Bread recipe!”
“Let me see that.” Robert grabbed the edge of the book in an attempt to wrestle it from Franklin.
“No, you don’t!” Franklin pulled back.
“I just wanted to look.” Robert tugged again.
Franklin jerked the book back.
Robert spun around. Cold goo splattered on Pandora’s fur. She jumped back, shaking it off. Yuck.
Robert had grabbed the book mid-spin, and it flew out of Franklin’s hand, bending at the spine. It hung in the air, balanced between Robert and Franklin’s fingers.
And then it swiveled ninety degrees and shook itself. Something dropped out of it and clattered on the floor.
A fancy old skeleton key. And it was glowing.
The book thudded to the floor, no longer glowing. The key must have been giving it the magic. Robert and Franklin hovered over the book, their ghostly faces wrinkled in concern. But Pandora was more interested in the key. It must be a magical item. She needed to grab it and get it to the cats of Mystic Notch!
Pandora leapt down from the counter and pawed at the key. It was hot! Electricity zinged from her paw to her shoulder, and she jerked back.
Darn. That thing was dangerous. But she had to get it. If this was one of the items that could undo the pleasantry charm, she had to take it to the other cats so they could make sure it didn’t fall into enemy hands.
“Oh dear, have we ruined it?” Robert swirled over the book, dripping cold, ghostly goo onto the pages.
“It will be ruined if you keep dripping on it!” Franklin swatted him out of the way.
Pandora didn’t have time to get into the middle of their argument or worry about the book. The key was most important. She crouched over it, trying to come up with a plan to grab it.
Robert swirled over. “Hey, that looks like the key to my writing box!”
Pandora glanced up at him. “Your writing box?” That would be an odd coincidence, but stranger things had happened in the Notch.
“I had a lovely box I used to keep my poems in, and the key had a distinctive bow. That’s the wide end, you know. Anyway, mine had a design just like this one with a notch on the top.” Robert smiled at the key fondly. “The poems I put in that box always seemed to be my best sellers.”
Pandora studied the key. It was very distinctive, with a fleur-de-lis inspired design, but surely there was more than one key with that design. Either way, she didn’t have time for Robert’s reminiscences.
She reached out tentatively with her paw and touched the bow end. That end was much less hot. Now all she had to do was pick it up securely with her mouth and use one of the escape routes to take it to the barn cats.
She touched it tentatively with her tongue.
Ping!
Willa’s phone! Apparently, she’d been so intent on getting to her dinner with Striker, she’d left it on the counter. Pandora’s nose wrinkled at the thought of the humans and their lovey-dovey machinations. It was distasteful, but they seemed happy, so she let them alone and ignored them when they got too friendly. She liked both Willa and Striker. In fact, it wouldn’t be bad if they made a permeant alliance. What did humans call it? Marriage?
Wait, did she hear footsteps outside the door? She turned her attention back to the key, snaking out her paw and pushing at it. It had cooled off. She twitched her whiskers and picked the key up between her teeth.
“Oh-oh!” Franklin cast an alarmed look at the door and promptly disappeared.
“Trouble!” Robert yelled before fading out.
Shoot! The door creaked open.
Pandora’s mind whirled. Willa would see the key sticking out of her mouth. She dropped it, and it clattered on the floor. She needed to bat it under something to hide it. The bookcases were too far. The microsuede sofa. If she swatted the key hard enough, and if she was lucky, it would slide just far enough under the sofa not to be noticeable from standing height and not come out the other side. She pulled her paw back.
“Pandora! What is this mess? Bad kitty!”
Too late.
Pandora plastered on a look of innocence and tried to make her sweetest, cutest face. She cocked her head and looked up at her human.
Willa’s disappointed frown indicated that even her cutest face wasn’t going to get her out of trouble.
Willa crouched down beside the book, and Pandora’s heart fell at the crushed look in her amber eyes. Willa loved books, and Pandora knew seeing one damaged wounded her. She subtly moved her tail to cover the key. With any luck, Willa would be so intent on the book, she wouldn’t notice the key.
“I guess it’s not too bad.” Willa picked the book up and then turned to Pandora. “Lucky thing for you it’s not ruined.”
Pandora felt better at that. Not that Willa would hand out a strict punishment, but it was punishment enough to disappoint her.
Willa stood and put the book on the counter. “Oh, there’s my phone. Can’t go far without that.” She turned and held it up before putting it in her purse.
Pandora sat stock-still, trying to fluff out her tail to maximum width to hide the key. In her experience, humans were not that observant, so hopefully Willa would not notice the slight glow peeking out from between the hairs on her tail.
“Now you be a good—” Willa stopped midsentence and frowned at Pandora’s tail. Darn!
Willa crouched down, and Pandora swished her tail, trying to push the key under the couch, but it was no use.
“Huh, look at that.” Willa picked up the key and held it up. Oddly, it no longer glowed. Now it simply looked like a fancy brass skeleton key. “What an interesting key. I guess one of my customers must have dropped it. I’ll just put it away for safekeeping.”
Pandora hoped she would put it in the cash register drawer because she could easily open it and take the key out. But Pandora’s hopes were dashed when Willa walked over to the tall shelf in the corner and took a box from the very top shelf. She opened the box and dropped the key inside.
“There. That should keep it safe.” She started toward the door with a stern warning to Pandora. “Now, I’m going to enjoy my supper. You try to keep from destroying anything else in the store.”