Bewitched, Bothered, and Biscotti: A Magical Bakery Mystery by Bailey Cates Page A

ring.
    “Hello, Quinn. How are you this fine morning?” Being able to get this information
     off my chest had lightened my mood considerably. “In kind of early, aren’t you?”
    “My caller ID says this is Katie Lightfoot. Could that possibly be true? Because why
     would my friendlyneighborhood baker be calling me on my official line only one day after I see her
     in the vicinity of a homicide case?”
    “Funny man. Do you or do you not want to know who we found yesterday?”
    “Are you telling me you know?”
    I abandoned the question game. “Yes! His name is Lawrence Eastmore.” I practically
     crowed.
    “I know.”
    “But—”
    “How do
you
know?”
    There was no reason to be disappointed, yet I was a little. “Cookie recognized the
     drawing in the paper.”
    “Cookie who works there?”
    “Of course. But she used to work in the registration office at SCAD. She met Dr. Eastmore
     then.”
    “Ah. That makes sense.” There was a little too much relief in his tone. “It turns
     out she’s not the only one who recognized the picture. The main desk got an anonymous
     call to the same effect about an hour ago.”
    “Just one other call?”
    “Yes. Most people are still asleep.” His tone was wry.
    “We’re up.” I sounded smug.
    “Bakers and policemen don’t exactly keep normal hours. I have a murder to solve.”
    “At least you know whose now. And, Quinn? This is me saying, ‘I told you so.’”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    Something muffled his voice, and he seemed to be talking to someone else. His words
     became less garbled. “I’ll be right there.” He spoke into the phone again. “Katie?
     I need to go now. But I do appreciate the call. Really. We’ll take it from here.”
    “Okeydokey.” If he’d hurry up and solve the murder maybe the Dragohs would leave me
     alone. “Stop by if you’re in the neighborhood. The special today is cranberry coconut
     cookies.” They were Quinn’s favorite.
    “Sounds great.” He was obviously distracted. “But I doubt I’ll have time for a Honeybee
     run today.”
     * * *
    “I just love those little cat faces! Where on earth did you find them?” Mrs. Standish,
     one of our regulars, put her fists on her ample hips and peered at the decorations
     surrounding the front entrance.
    “Lucy and Bianca made them,” I said as I filled a box with a dozen assorted muffins.
     The kitties were cute, based on jack-o’-lantern carving patterns and fastened to the
     doorframe. The ladies had used yellow felt painted with orange and white stripes so
     they looked like tabby cats. Actually, they looked like Lucy’s familiar, Honeybee,
     who had inspired the name for our bakery. I loved Honeybee, but she made me sneeze
     and sniffle like crazy. Thankfully, unlike Mungo, she preferred to stay home.
    “We’re going for a little scarier,” Croft Barrow said from where he sat at a table
     near the display case. Croft owned the bookstore next door. He and Annette Lander,
     who had the knitting shop on the other side of the bakery, were planning Halloween
     parties, too. “You know, spooky music, gross stuff in jars. We even have a cauldron
     to fill with dry ice on Halloween night.”
    I smiled. “Us, too.” I didn’t mention that it was a real working cauldron that had
     seen its share of brewing.
    Behind me, Cookie snorted.
    “You girls make Halloween too cute,” Croft went on. “Annette’s decorations are all
     made of wool, forheaven’s sake. Halloween is supposed to scare the pants off you.”
    “Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Mrs. Standish said in a dry tone and handed
     me a bill. I grinned and counted out her change.
    “We won’t set any records for scariness,” I said. “But it’ll be a fun and safe place
     for kids to come and hang out on Halloween.”
    I’d always loved Halloween, and was glad to be among so many other people who felt
     the same way. My parents weren’t much for the holiday. They let me dress up and go