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"I made them," I said. My breath caught in my throat. It felt like I was choking.
Trixie grabbed my hand. "But I'm certain—"
"We're both certain," Eleanor interjected.
"—that there is no possibility Ava's cupcakes could have killed David."
I tried to hide my disbelief. I had nearly killed Aunt Trixie. What made either of them think I hadn't succeeded in killing David?
"How do you know that?" Sheriff Knoxx asked, mirroring my own question.
"Because," Trixie said defiantly. I waited for her to finish, but apparently because was all she had.
"It might not be as simple as a bad extract or two," Sheriff Knoxx said. "It could be misuse of a wand by an inexperienced witch. A miscast spell could mimic cake poisoning.
He glowered at me. I considered telling him about my arrival on the island—seeing David in the boat arguing with someone. But that would mean admitting a human had seen me perform magic.
"There's only one way to tell." The sheriff stretched his hand toward me. "May I see your wand, Ava?" he asked, his voice dripping with sickly sweetness.
Eleanor came to my rescue. "Ava didn't even use her wand today. She didn't have to." She looked proudly at me before continuing.
"David Buyers ate two cupcakes. He was here at nine this morning. When he left our store, he was perfectly fine. You say you found him an hour ago? You know perfectly well that cake poisoning acts much quicker than that. If Ava's cupcakes were going to... harm David, they would have done so almost immediately. Or certainly within the first few hours of his eating them."
Sheriff Knoxx reluctantly nodded. "Did Mr. Buyers purchase anything else while he was here?"
"Just some of our hazelnut-happiness chocolate-heaven cookies," Trixie said. "And I dare you to find anything wrong with those!" She folded her arms across her chest.
"Are those the ones with the little bits of pixie chocolate in them?" he asked, licking his lips.
"They are," Eleanor said.
"Do you have any left?" Sheriff Knoxx's eyes looked past us to the counters. "Perhaps I should sample a few. To check them for... inconsistencies."
"We sold out," Trixie said.
"Too bad." His face fell. I had the feeling Sheriff Knoxx had a bit of a sweet tooth himself. "And the cupcakes Ava made?"
"Gone as well," Eleanor told him. Though I noted she failed to mention I'd almost killed Trixie with them.
"Well, then," he said, puffing out his chest. "We'll just have to wait until Dr. Dunne furnishes his toxicology report." I felt that strange, dark energy flow out of the sheriff again and wondered if my aunts felt it, too. "I'll be back when we know more. Until then," he said, looking directly at me, "don't go anywhere."
The moment he was gone, we all exhaled.
"Now, don't worry, Ava dear," Eleanor said, patting my shoulder. "Trixie and I know you did nothing wrong." But she was biting her lip as she said it.
That night, I found myself missing my father for the first time since leaving New York. I hadn't talked to him since arriving on the island. I found a sheet of paper and wrote him a letter, letting him know I was safe. Tootsie strolled into my room just as I was finishing.
"Are there any stamps?" I asked him.
"Ava has letter?" Tootsie asked. "Tootsie will mail it." Before I could stop him, Tootsie jumped into my lap, grabbed my letter between his teeth, and trotted out of the room, carrying it in his mouth. I watched him go, wondering how he would ever reach the mailbox, let alone find me a stamp, then decided not to question it. Tootsie had his ways.
The next day at the bakery, the energy had shifted. My first day there had been intense, but there'd also been a lightness to it. I'd had fun learning and Trixie and Eleanor had had fun teaching me.
Today, David Buyer's death had left a heavy cloud hanging over our store. When nine-thirty arrived and we still hadn't had a customer, I began to worry.
"This is all my fault," I muttered. "People are scared to come in here."
"Nonsense," Eleanor said. "Business ebbs and flows. By noon, this place will be packed."
An hour later, our first customer finally filed in.
"Good morning, ladies," Eleanor said a little too cheerily. "Ava, this is Anastasia Peacock and her daughter, Polly. They run The Alchemic Stone. It's a magical rock and gem shop here in town."
I smiled at a pretty girl about my age with long blond ringlets, a snow-white face, and the pinkest lips I'd ever seen. She wore no makeup, yet looked like she'd just stepped out of a salon.
"Hi," I said.
I'd never had many friends growing up. It would be nice to make a few here. But I could see from the suspicious way Polly was looking at me that the rumor mill had already been hard at work. It was probably even worse in a small town like Sweetland Cove. Aunt Eleanor had said there were only about five thousand of us on the whole island.
"We also sell magical herbs and plants now, you know," Polly's mom said, looking down her nose at Eleanor. "We find they quite often go with gemstones, don't you agree?"
"Oh. Yes," Eleanor said politely.
Trixie leaned over and whispered. "They're part pixie."
Pixie? Like fairies? Cool. I looked at the two women again with more curiosity.
Anastasia was wearing a billowy dress that looked more like a robe. She had platinum hair that hung in loose curls around her head. Her skin was as white as her daughter's and her lips just as rosy. "Do you have any apricot dream enhancers today? My metaphysical impressions tell me you may be running low."
Metaphysical impressions?
"Certainly, Anastasia," Eleanor said, going to a shelf and pulling out a tray of gooey orange bars that were drizzled with caramel. Sweet syrup oozed out of them, sticking to the tray.
Trixie sidled up next to me and whispered, "Anastasia's psychic." The way Trixie said it, though, made me doubt whether she was really psychic or only thought she was.
"How many would you like?"
"That depends," Anastasia said, turning her eyes on me. "Who made them?"
I could feel Eleanor tense up. "I did," she said. "But even if I hadn't—"
"I'll take a dozen," Anastasia said, cutting her off.
Eleanor bit her tongue and boxed up the apricot dream enhancers. On her way out, Anastasia paused at the door and turned back to me.
"I see great danger in your future," she said dramatically. Polly blushed and tugged on her mom's sleeve.
Danger? I glanced at Eleanor and Trixie to see how seriously I should take Anastasia's warning, but they were busying themselves with laying out some cupcakes.
The customers began to flow more frequently after that. By noon, we were packed, just as Eleanor had predicted. Even rumors of tainted cupcakes couldn't keep people away when they had a lunchtime sugar craving.
Unfortunately, with the people came their stares. Their obvious suspicion. Everyone wanted to know which products I'd made so they could stay clear of them. When the rush was over, my head was aching and my blood was boiling.
"These people don't even know me and already they're judging me," I complained to my aunts.
"It's not uncommon to be suspicious of strangers, especially in the witching world," Eleanor told me. "Your Aunt Trixie and I... well..." She smiled slyly.
Trixie began to bounce like an overactive toddler.
"We're going to have a party! In your honor!"
"A party?" I asked. "I'm not sure that's the best idea."
"Sure it is. What better way for the townspeople to get to know you?" Eleanor asked.
"I suppose..."
"What you need now is some air," Trixie said.
"Trixie's right. Get out of here for a bit. Go see the island."
"Ooh! Stop at Coffee Cove on your way back and get me a vanilla latte, would you?" Trixie asked. "Just tell them it's for me. They know how I like it."
I thought some air sounded good, but there was something more important on my mind. My wand was still missing. I'd been able to dodge Eleanor and Trixie's questions about it, but that wouldn't last much longer. Especially with David Buyer's death hanging over my head. If I wanted to clear my name, I had to find that wand.
The sandy beach was just as golden as I'd remembered it from my arrival. I wiggled my toes in the sand as I searched the shore for any sign of my wand. After an hour of looking, I’d found nothing except some rocks. A small dinghy was tied up at the dock. I headed over to it, hoping that somehow my wand would be sitting inside, waiting for me. I was just giving up my investigation when a deep voice growled from behind me.
"Get away from my boat."
I turned to see a late twenty-something man with long dark hair and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. If not for the scowl on his face, he would have been attractive.
A man a few years younger, also with dark hair and a smooth complexion, was chasing after him. "Damon!" he called.
Damon cocked his head but didn't take his eyes off me. "I said, get away from my boat." Danger dripped from his every word, but somehow, he didn't scare me. Not in the way he meant to, anyway.
I scooted away from the dingy. "I-I'm sorry," I stammered. My hands were shaking. My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I hadn't felt like this since I was sixteen and had kissed Tommy Kendall behind the bleachers in the school gym.
"You should be," Damon growled. He walked past me, checking his boat as if he'd caught me drilling holes in it.
"Sorry about my friend's manners," said the man who'd been following Damon. He'd finally caught up. He had an easy smile and sparkling blue eyes, though not quite as blue as Damon's. "I'm Slater Winston. That grunting maniac over there is my cousin, Damon Tellinger."
Damon glanced at us then walked off in a huff. Cousins? I could see the resemblance. With their blue eyes and dark hair, they looked more like brothers than cousins.
"I'm sorry," I told Slater. "I didn't mean to—"
Slater waved me off. "Damon's just a little touchy today." He lowered his voice. "A friend of ours died last night."
"Oh," I said, my face going red. "You mean... David Buyers?"
"Did you know him?" Slater asked, looking at me with fresh curiosity.
"Not really. I just arrived on the island a few days ago. I don't really know anyone yet. I'm Ava, by the way."
I considered asking Slater if he'd seen a wand lying around anywhere. But if he and Damon had been friends with David, chances were pretty good he was human.
"Well, Ava, consider Damon and me at your disposal."
Damon grunted loudly from his boat. If looks could have killed, I would have been six feet under.
"Well, consider me at your disposal," Slater said uncertainly.
Despite Damon's brusque manners, I couldn't stop looking at him. "Is he always like this?"
"Actually," Slater said, looking back at his cousin. "He's usually pretty personable. I guess he just doesn't like you."
My face fell.
"Kidding!" he said. "I'm kidding!"
But the way Damon was shooting daggers at me, I didn't think there was much to joke about. For reasons I didn't fully understand, Damon Tellinger hated me. Too bad, because in the few minutes I'd known him, I'd developed the biggest crush of my life. Sometimes, fate was a prankster.
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