A Deadly Affair Read online

  Copyright © 2020 R.M. Connor All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Molly Burton of CozyCoverDesigns.com

  Editing: Black Quill Editing

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To my Gramsie

  I wish you were here to see this.

  Welcome to Wildewood

  “Let me see it.” Tessa motioned for me to show her my pumpkin.

  She sat across the table from me in the large meeting hall. The air was stale and smelled of pumpkin innards. Half the town was crammed in the room so we could get as many jack-o-lanterns as possible ready for the Halloween Festival only a few days away.

  I shook my head refusing, but she gave me a do it now look: one eyebrow raised and her lips pursed. Her arms were crossed and she tapped her index finger on her forearm. I groaned. This was embarrassing. I wasn’t good at carving pumpkins. Seriously, I was really bad at it. But Tessa had insisted I come with her.

  I turned the finished jack-o-lantern around to face her. I wrinkled my nose as Tessa averted her eyes from the hideous creature I had created.

  “It’s not that bad.” She bit her lip and turned the pumpkin back toward me.

  Tessa Anderson was my best friend. She was probably the only real friend I’d ever had in my entire twenty-eight years. She was a woman of many talents, but lying was not one of them.

  I looked down at my pumpkin and wiped away strands of orange guts that still clung to the face. The two triangles that made up its eyes were lopsided. One was too close to the mouth, and the other, I mean, come on. How had I managed to carve it so crooked? This was what happened when I didn’t use a stencil. I had accidentally cut off a few teeth when my knife slipped and tried to secure them back in with toothpicks but it just made it look worse.

  I heard a giggle. My eyes flicked to Tessa. She had one elbow resting on the table and her hand pressed against her mouth. The corners of her eyes were pulled tight enough to create wrinkles like chiseled spider webs stretching outward from her emerald eyes.

  If I had been able to use magic to carve it, it would’ve been close to perfect. But being a witch was a secret I hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Tessa. Though, it hadn’t been a secret I’d been keeping for long. After I moved to Wildewood, I woke up one morning suddenly equipped with magical abilities and what a strange morning it had been.

  I woke up late the day of my café’s grand opening. The Witches Brew had been a dream of mine—a charming little café and bakery—since I decided to move to Wildewood. But that morning had not gone the way I had intended. I had run down the stairs to rinse off in the shower. I had snapped my fingers when I remembered I had laid out an outfit on my dresser while simultaneously thinking about starting a pot of coffee before getting ready.

  In horror, I watched my perfectly planned outfit fly down the stairs like a baseball toward me. The lid to the black canister that held the coffee grounds spun violently and landed on the ground at the same time the ball of clothes hit me in the chest so hard I fell backward. I sat on the floor with the pile of clothes in my lap and stared at my hand. My fingers were hot and tingling. I remember feeling completely freaked out, and yet excited. What girl didn’t dream about having powers?

  I took a chance and thought about filling the back of the coffee maker with water and snapped my fingers again. The water turned on full-force and the sprayer attached to the faucet pulled out and floated toward the coffee maker but the hose wasn’t long enough to reach. I threw the ball of clothes off me and scrambled to the sink. Water had gotten everywhere. All over the counter, the floor. By the time I slammed the handle down to turn the water off, the kitchen was soaked.

  Needless to say, I had been late to my grand opening and had been very careful about snapping my fingers the rest of that day. It took me a few months to control my abilities. Though I was still a novice, I could now make a pot of coffee without flooding my kitchen. I still didn’t understand where the magical abilities came from. I supposed it was possible it had been lying dormant my whole life but I couldn’t ask anyone about it.

  I placed the lid on the pumpkin. “There will be so many, I doubt anyone will notice.” The lid slid sideways and threatened to fall inside. I leaned back against my folding chair and crossed my arms. I had been defeated by a squash.

  “I think next year you should volunteer for something else.” Tessa grinned and, this time, didn’t try to hide her laughter.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  Tessa stopped laughing. When I looked up, her already big green eyes were wider and she was staring behind me.

  “Oh dear,” a disgruntled voice said and I stiffened.

  Hesitantly, I turned around. Wildewood’s long-time mayor, Esther Miller, stood with her arms crossed. The wrinkles on her face deepened as she frowned. Her gray curls laid neatly in a clip, pulled back from her face. Her dark blue eyes, that always seemed to know too much, focused on to me.

  Shit.

  “It’s okay, dear. We will find a spot for it.” She patted my shoulder. “In the back.”

  My cheeks burned and I groaned as I wrapped my thin flannel jacket closer to my body and sunk further into my chair. Esther hosted the pumpkin carving meeting every year. This would be my first time participating, and by the disapproval on Esther’s face, probably my last.

  Tessa leaned across the table and whispered as Esther walked away, “It’s okay, Riley. At least the cupcakes you’re making for the festival will make up for it.”

  Oh, yeah. The cupcakes.

  Every establishment was asked to participate in some way with the festival. I had decided the café would bring a few hundred cupcakes. I may have been a bit over-ambitious.

  I scrunched my nose and said, “I get it. I’ll stick to what I’m good at.”

  Grinning, Tessa bobbed her head up and down.

  Esther made her way to the front of the large room and cleared her throat loud enough for us to hear in the back. The room went quiet, as it always did when she demanded the attention of a crowd. Her presence was much larger than her petite frame and hard to ignore. I suppose that’s how she managed to be mayor for the last few decades—no one could compete with her.

  Tessa crouched underneath the table to get to the side I was sitting on. We watched as Esther clapped her hands together, her demeanor transforming as a large grin appeared on her face, erasing the frown lines my pumpkin had given her.

  “I am so pleased with the turn out of this year’s pumpkin carving night. The festival would be nothing if it weren’t for every one of you.” She spread her arms out and took a moment to look around the crowded room.

  My assistant at The Witches Brew, Leah Crane, walked into the meeting hall dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was pulled up into a rare ponytail. She usually wore it down and straight, curling at the ends toward her neck. Jennifer Mitchell, an employee at Wildewood’s bakery, Just Treats, came in behind her. She was a few inches shorter than Leah, with long brown hair. I usually only saw it pulled back in a hairnet but tonight it was hanging loosely around her shoulders.

  I watched as they propped the doors open, glimpsing a large wheelbarrow sitting outside. Alice Starr, the owner of Just Treats, stood in front of the wagon holding the handle as she spoke with a man I had never seen before. He smiled and a dimple formed in his right cheek above the line of his neatly trimmed beard. I wonder if he had a dimple on both cheeks. His caramel-colored hair was long, falling to his neck but cut in layers that had slight waves. Leah and Jennifer hauled finished jack-o-lanterns to the wagon, blocking my view.

  I squirmed in my seat, trying to catch another look at Dimples. Who was he?

  Giving u
p, I asked, “Has anyone ever been banned from pumpkin carving night?”

  “Nope.” Tessa’s grin stretched across her face. “But there is always a first time for everything.”

  Esther cleared her throat, her eyes focusing on us. I tried to slink further into my chair, trying to hide from her gaze. “My daughter Samantha will be passing out tea lights. Please take one and place it inside your pumpkin. If you cannot put yours out in the square, Alice will take them for you. Thank you again, Wildewood!” She gave one last smile and walked around the room, making small talk.

  Samantha came walking toward the two of us with a small box of battery-powered tea light candles. Her dark brown hair framed her face, falling right above her shoulders. Impeccably dressed, just like her mother, she wore a black pencil skirt with a gray turtleneck tucked in, adorned with a thin black belt showing off her small waist. Her black stiletto heels tapped the ground as she came to a stop in front of our table. She held out two candles to Tessa.

  “Are you coming over this week to work on costumes?” Tessa asked Samantha who handed me one of the small candles. The two of them had grown up in Wildewood together and had been friends since kindergarten, but recently Samantha had been distant, distracted with her upcoming wedding. She was planning it mostly by herself instead of hiring someone to do it for her. The only help she had was Esther’s assistant at Town Hall.

  “I’m not sure.” Samantha shuffled the box to her other arm. “Who all is going?”

  “Riley.” Tessa nodded toward me. “Maybe Leah and Jennifer.”

  Samantha shrugged. I could tell by the look on her face she was uninterested. “I think I’ll just buy my costume this year.”

  “That’s no fun.” Tessa poked her bottom lip out in a pout.

  “I’m not in the mood for fun right now,” Samantha replied, her face solemn. She looked past us for a moment before walking away to continue handing out candles.

  Tessa turned back to face me, resting on her elbows on the table and mumbled to herself, “I wonder what’s gotten into her.”

  Peeking behind me, I saw Samantha’s fiancé, Trey Brewer. He was leaning against the back wall of the room, a trash bag in one hand and the other resting on the wall above another woman’s head as they talked. The woman twirled her blonde hair in her finger, laughing at whatever he was saying. Trey was a handsome man but looks only went so far.

  “Probably that.” I tilted my head in Trey’s direction. It was common knowledge that he was a flirt but it was still unsettling that he was so unashamed about it, especially in the same room as Samantha.

  Tessa glanced behind me and I saw her nose scrunch before she looked away. “I can’t stand him.”

  Changing the subject, I said, “Do you think I should ask Esther where she wants me to stick this guy?” I patted my pumpkin. Tessa could be a hot head when it came to her friends and I didn’t think Samantha would want another scene in front of so many people. Trey was doing a good enough job of that.

  “I’m sure she’ll sniff it out tomorrow morning when you aren’t looking.” Tessa stood, her chair scraping along the cement floor. Her eyes flicked up to spot Trey once more. “Come on.” She pulled her jacket on. “I’m hungry.”

  We walked out of the warmth of the meeting hall and into the chilly autumn night to find a spot for our pumpkins. The Halloween Festival was only three days away. There were promises of a hay maze in one of the four corners of the square, but it was currently nothing more than bales of hay stacked in a large pile. The stage where a band would be playing was being set up. Esther didn’t seem to be bothered by the lack of progress. As far as I knew, this was normal.

  Walking through the middle of the square, past the large oak tree in the center, we found a spot along the path where the maze would be. I placed my pumpkin down and it tipped and teetered, daring to fall over onto its side.

  “I hope no one will notice.” I fumbled with the lid, trying to keep it from falling inside. How did this even happen? It should fit like a puzzle piece but somehow the lid was smaller than the hole.

  “I think it would take actual magic for no one to notice.” Tessa chuckled, setting hers next to mine to help prop it up.

  I tensed at the words she chose. Sometimes I wondered if Tessa knew more than she let on. But there was no way she knew I was a witch because I had never used magic around her.

  “I’m not even sure magic could fix this thing.” I stared at the lopsided mess.

  “Want to go get something to eat?” Tessa asked. It was her turn to change the subject.

  “I think I’m going to just go home.” The Witches Brew opened at seven in the morning, but I had to be in earlier to prep for the morning rush.

  I waved at her; Tessa wiggled her fingers in return. She headed in the opposite direction toward her favorite late-night eatery, Mike’s, Wildewood’s only bar. I waved at Leah and Jennifer as I walked past but then slowed. I looked back at my pumpkin. Though I had tried to stop it, the lid had fallen sideways in the hole pushing the teeth off their toothpicks. Maybe I could use a little magic to fix it.

  I brought my hands in front of me, curled my index finger, and whispered a simple Latin word to conjure the magic I possessed. I had learned to use simple terms to better control what I wanted to do. Heat blossomed at the tip of my finger—it happened every time. The pumpkin lid wriggled upward then set back in place, where it belonged. Using the same motion, I breathed out another spell. The teeth secured themselves in the pumpkin’s mouth without support from the toothpicks. With a smirk forming, I turned back and continued on my way, picking up my pace to get to Cattail Road. A quiet, narrow street with overgrown oaks lining both sides and my cozy little cottage nestled between a row of old houses in the forest of Wildewood.

  The horizon was still dark as I left my house the following morning. The sun wouldn’t be up for another two hours, giving me plenty of time to bake the goods my regulars had grown to expect. The wooden broom stayed airborne as I swung a leg over the handle to dismount. My boot made a slight tapping sound as the toe touched the ground. Whispering, I took away the broom’s ability to fly and it fell, clattering loudly to the ground.

  Grabbing the handle, I leaned it beside the back door of the café. My legs wobbled as I began to walk. No matter how many times I flew, my legs always felt unsteady afterward. I ran my hand along the brick wall lining the alley between my café and the neighboring bookstore for support as I walked to the storefront. The brick was damp from the storm that had moved through last night. A strong wind had howled between the clapping of thunder. It would be just my luck that the storm carried away all of my Halloween decorations.

  I touched the thin, wrought iron fence separating The Witches Brew patio from the sidewalk. It was wrapped in a lighted garland, with red, orange, and yellow leaves. Plastic spiders and bats were weaved through it. Heavy, black chairs and two small, circular tables matching the fence sat outside. The patio was slightly covered with a large black and white striped awning that offered a small amount of shade in the afternoon. Under the awning on the large window were black letters that spelled out The Witches Brew with a silhouette of a bubbling cauldron.

  Everything appeared intact until I noticed one small pumpkin lying face down beside the front door. I wiggled my index finger in an upward motion at the magically carved jack-o-lantern and muttered a word under my breath. It sprung up, sitting back against the brick wall where it belonged and gave me a toothy grin. Stepping back to see the entire patio, I felt content with how it had been set up. I snapped my fingers. “Accendere.” The yellow lights of the garland lit up, creating a soft glow around the café.

  The street was barely illuminated by the weak light from the short, black lamps lining the sidewalk. Banners hung from every other one to remind everyone of the annual festival. Each storefront was decorated, ranging from spooky to kooky, representing the individual business owners’ personalities. I had chosen to decorate simple compared to some.

  The café looked out onto Town Square, the only grassy area in the dense forest of Wildewood. I noticed more progress had been made after I went home last night. String lights were wrapped around the trunk of the large tree then strung from its branches to posts on the perimeter of the square. It gave the impression of a Big Top at a circus. The lights shone brightly in the dark morning. More jack-o-lanterns lined the pathways, creating a magical, orange glow.