Chapter ten
Ibroke into hysterical laughter. “And how, pray, do you intend for us to do that? Unless you can figure it out by magic, which, by the way, you still haven't explained to me?” I asked the cat.
He gave me a pitying look. “That’s not how it works.”
“No kidding, Sherlock,” I said. Then I stared at him. “You're pulling my leg, aren't you.”
“Why should I do that? Honestly, Bex, you need to stop doubting me and doubting yourself. You can do this.”
“Do what? The baking? You’re really trying to tell me that the reason my spell thingy, whatever, doesn't work is due …”
“Yes. An unsolved murder has released a ton of negative energies, and it appears, because of what the letter said, it’s indirectly linked to your aunt, so it’s affecting you. It’s a bit like a domino effect.”
I stopped laughing. He was serious. “You’re telling me I don’t only need to become a witch overnight –”
“An excellent witch,” he interrupted me.
“Okay, an excellent witch. I now also must rival Sherlock Holmes with you as my Watson?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t so much as blink when I compared him to Watson, so hereally meant it.
“Ok. How about we see how far the police have come with their investigation?”
“That's a very good idea,” he said. “I'm glad you're starting to understand.”
“Oh yes.” I didn't mean a word – after all, what did I know about investigating a crime - but if it made him happy, it would make my already crazy life easier.
“Have you forgotten something?” He stopped me before I could leave the kitchen.
“Like what?”
“We haven't finished the baking.”
My mind boggled at this U-turn. “You just told me the reason that I can't get the cookies done right is because I haven't solved the murder yet. And now you want me to try again and fail?”
“We need to have them for the library,” he said. “They’re important, especially for your start. Unlock the bottom drawer.” He jumped to the floor and sauntered over to a kitchen wagon with several drawers underneath. “You'll find the key mixed in with the cutlery.”
I did as I was told. Inside the drawer were several small tins. Each carried a label, “Spice mix 1”, “Spice mix 2”, “Spice mix secret”. “Now what?” I asked him.
“These are our emergency supplies, in case your aunt was taken unwell and didn't have the energy to work her magic.”
I noticed a slight tremble in his voice. In his way, Cosmo appeared to grieve just as much as I did. “Which one do I take, or do I need them all?”
“For now, mix number one will do.”
One hour later, I had three cookie sheets full of cat, dog, and star shaped treats. If I squinted, I noticed the glow, but to an uninitiated,that effect could be attributed to the golden hue of my lemon cookies. As they cooled off, I saw the glow fade, as it sank into the baked goods.
I reached for a star. Cosmo swatted my hand.
“Excuse me? Shouldn’t I test them?”
“They’re not meant for you.”
“Aunt Violet ate hers.”
“Not the special ones. And you can’t afford to nibble something intended to make you feel relaxed and serene.”
