Read Miss Spelled (The Kitchen Witch 1) for Free Online Page A

was testing samples.”
    “What was he sampling cakes for?” Stevens asked.
    “He was getting married,” I said, and tears welled up in my eyes. I hadn’t particularly liked Brant, but he was getting married. It was a terrible situation. I thought about his poor fiancée, and wondered if she’d heard the terrible news yet.
    “Brant has some money,” Greer went on. “Well, he did, at least. A lot of people would have liked to get their hands on it. Do you think anyone was out to get him?”
    I was surprised the cop had asked me that. Was it a trick question? “How would I know?” I said. “I just arrived in town. I’ve only just met everyone.”
    Greer nodded and wrote something in his notebook. “Have you ever been to town before?”
    “No, it’s my first time,” I said.
    “But your aunt lived here her whole life?” Greer barked at me. “You never visited?”
    “No,” I said simply.
    “She left you her business?”
    “My father was Aunt Angelica’s brother, but they didn’t get along. I was surprised when I got the letter in the mail.”
    Neither of the police officers said anything for a moment. Both just nodded. Finally, Constable Stevens spoke. “I’m going to go bag that cake, and speak to Thyme.”
    “Can I go now?” I asked her. For some reason I thought everything would have taken longer.
    “I need your number,” Greer said.
    I gave it to him.
    “This place will need to stay closed for a while. A couple of days, I mean,” Greer said as Constable Stevens made her way back through the swinging doors.
    “Oh, okay, that’s fine, of course,” I said.
    “There’s a forensics team on the way, so you’ll need to vacate the crime scene.”
    “Crime scene?” I heard my voice come out shrilly, and the room appeared to spin slowly. I felt like I was in a bad dream, and I couldn’t wake up. “It’s a crime scene?”
    Greer’s expression did not change. “It’s routine, ma’am. You said he took a bite of cake and then fell down to the floor and died.”
    “But Thyme made that cake this morning. We were the only ones who touched it. So it wasn’t the cake; it had to be something else.”
    Greer nodded, as if he had heard a million excuses about a million different things. “You do know not to leave town?”
    “Do you think I did this?” I asked, reaching for the paper bag. I felt as if I were on the edge of breaking down into hysterics.
    “Routine,” he said again. “Don’t leave town. I’ll need to escort you out so you don’t contaminate the scene. Go get your things.”
    I waited for a few moments until I was sure that I wouldn’t faint, and then I took a deep breath and climbed to my feet.
    After I retrieved my purse and coat from the back room, I slipped through the swinging doors and almost turned right back around when I saw Brant, dead, and still lying on the floor. Thyme was outside, her back pressed against the glass door of the cake store. I hurried to the door, averting my eyes from the corpse as I did so. I pulled the door slowly, so Thyme wouldn’t fall if the door was gone from her suddenly.
    She turned around. “Did they give you the third degree?”
    I nodded. “Pretty much. And they told me not to leave town.”
    “Me, too.”
    Just then, men in white suits wheeled the body out, right past us and into the back of the ambulance. Before they left, they fixed strips of thick yellow and black police tape across the store’s door. Passers-by stopped to stare, but Thyme simply waved to them cheerfully.
    I bit my lip. “Well, that certainly won’t help business. People won’t want to come into the store after someone died in there, and even if they did, the police said we’d need to be closed for a couple of days. Obviously they want to collect…” my voice trailed away, “evidence, I suppose.”
    Thyme shook her head. “Don’t worry, all right? It will all be okay.”
    “I can’t see how. I’ve had enough shocks lately,” I said, and fought the