Christmas Witch List--A Westwick Witches Cozy Mystery Read online

  Aunt Amber, Aunt Pearl, and Mom burst into peals of laughter.

  Grandma Vi’s Shania renditions amused me too, but I was determined not to show it.

  “What’s so funny?” Gail looked around her. “Why are you all staring at me?”

  “We’re not looking at you, dear,” Mom said. “At least, not intentionally. It’s just an old West family joke.”

  “Well, it’s not funny,” Gail snapped.

  We all sat in awkward silence.

  “Oh, my goodness,” Mom exclaimed. “With all the guests, I really should have put out more turkey. There’s more in the kitchen. I just need to carve it.”

  “I’ll do it.” Brayden jumped up from his chair, eager to escape Gail’s wrath. He followed Mom into the kitchen.

  Gail scanned our faces. She stood and dropped her napkin on her empty plate. She trailed behind them. “I’ll help.”

  “Wait for me!” Grandma Vi spun around and floated behind them belting out another Shania Twain tune. “Ooh, there’s gonna be a party!”

  I rose from my chair and headed to the kitchen. Trouble was brewing with Grandma Vi’s pranks, Gail’s obsessive jealousy, and Brayden’s hands on a carving knife.

  Gail paused in the doorway. She turned and glared at me. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you better stop right now.”

  I was speechless.

  That was a good thing in this case, because I already had the sinking feeling that I was about to do something I would regret later. One way or another, we were headed for trouble, and I wasn’t sure I could stop it.

  10

  Brayden set to work carving the turkey under Gail’s watchful gaze. Aunt Pearl and I observed from across the large kitchen island, careful to keep a safe distance from our psycho guest in case she went off the rails.

  Gail stared daggers at me. I smiled politely in return, relieved she wasn’t the one with a knife in her hand. I hadn’t done anything to deserve her anger, but as Brayden’s ex-girlfriend, maybe it was the mere fact that I existed in the first place. With Merlinda still in the dining room, I was now Gail’s closest target. I knew better than to mess with a half-drunk, insanely jealous girlfriend.

  Mom smiled at Gail. “Too bad you’re missing your family back in Shady Creek. I know it’s not quite the Christmas Eve you and Brayden expected.”

  “No big deal.” Gail didn’t elaborate further. She walked toward us and looked back and forth between Aunt Pearl and the Christmas cake. “Mmm…that cake looks good. Can I try some?”

  “Of course.” Aunt Pearl grinned and turned the platter around so that the largest piece of cake faced Gail. “Help yourself.”

  It worked. Gail took the bait.

  That was mean of Aunt Pearl because nobody could stomach that cake. Nobody deserved it either. I opened my mouth to protest, but something stopped me. One bite of Mom’s vile-tasting cake would stop Gail in her tracks without a word from me.

  It didn’t though. She ate the whole slice, and even helped herself to a second piece of the alcohol-laden cake.

  “Don’t eat too much, or you’ll ruin your appetite.” Mom was practically giddy over Gail’s cake infatuation.

  “It’ll ruin a lot more than her appetite,” Grandma Vi floated just behind Mom’s shoulder, a transparent finger to her mouth in a mock gag gesture.

  Aunt Pearl made a cutting motion across her neck.

  Grandma Vi pouted. “Don’t disrespect me, Pearl.”

  Luckily Mom was so focused on Gail that she missed Grandma Vi’s cake insult.

  I glared at Grandma Vi.

  Gail scowled, assuming my hostile expression was directed at her.

  Mom pointed to Gail’s hand. “That cake always disappears faster than I can make it. I should have made more!”

  Aunt Pearl snorted. “Too bad Christmas comes just once a year.”

  Mom smiled. “I can make the cake anytime you like, Pearl. All you have to do is ask. We don’t have to wait for Christmas.”

  “No!” I said a little too forcefully. “Once a year keeps it special. We don’t want to spoil the West family Christmas tradition.”

  I watched Gail polish off her second piece of cake, thinking how odd it was that she and Brayden were even here in the first place. Brayden’s family lived out of state, and he always visited them for the holidays. Maybe they had planned to visit Gail’s family in Shady Creek instead. But if that was the case, why hadn’t they left for Shady Creek this morning before the highway closed?

  The bigger question was why Gail had ever considered a Christmas Eve celebration with me, Brayden’s ex-fiancée. Unless Brayden had neglected to tell her about me in the first place. That made sense, given how self-centered he could be.

  I guessed that for whatever reason, Brayden hadn’t wanted to spend the holiday with Gail’s family. He could have purposely delayed their departure. And since Gail was insanely jealous, she was probably afraid to leave him on his own for Christmas. Maybe her sole reason to stay in town was just to keep an eye on Brayden.

  By now I was certain Aunt Pearl was up to no good. If she had invited Brayden to join us only hours ago at the very last minute, then she knew Gail was part of the deal.

  Mom turned from the sink and beamed at Gail. “I’m so glad you love the cake! I would love to give you the recipe, but I can’t. It’s a family secret. You’ll never find another cake like it.”

  “That’s for sure,” Aunt Pearl said.

  We all pretended to like Mom’s cake so much that we had convinced her not to share the family recipe with outsiders. It was for general public safety reasons more than anything else. The downside was that Mom baked even more of her secret recipe each year, mistakenly believing that we all loved it.

  The strangest thing was that Mom was an accomplished gourmet cook and a master baker. Everything else she made was mouth-watering delicious. Yet she was taste-blind when it came to her horrible Christmas cake. No one had the heart to tell her the truth. It was all we could do to prevent her from serving it to our bed and breakfast guests. Yet against all odds, Gail seemed to like it.

  “Turkey’s carved.” Brayden held up the platter for all to see, proud of himself.

  Mom beamed. “Looks wonderful, Brayden. Now, let’s go eat. Cen, grab some more wine.”

  I grabbed another bottle of merlot and a bottle of white, a nice sauvignon blanc from a nearby estate winery.

  Gail followed suit and grabbed two more bottles of white from our wine rack. Apparently, she was committed to getting drunk. I couldn’t really blame her with Brayden’s wandering eye. Spending Christmas Eve with his ex-girlfriend was bad enough. I just hoped that Gail wasn’t a mean drunk.

  Brayden held the door open for Mom and ushered her through to the dining room. Gail trailed behind, followed by Brayden with the turkey platter.

  I waited until the door closed and turned to Aunt Pearl. “It was supposed to be a family dinner.”

  Aunt Pearl snorted. “Oh, just relax, Cen. Brayden is practically family.”

  “No, he isn’t,” I hissed. “He’s been ex-family ever since we broke up. Why did you invite him in the first place? You don’t even like him.” Her plans to drive a wedge between Tyler and me were glaringly obvious.

  Aunt Pearl rolled her eyes. “If it wasn’t for that dead body at your wedding rehearsal, Brayden would be your husband right now. You know, technically you’re both still single. It’s not too late to turn things around.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” My almost-wedding to Brayden had been halted for good reason, and it wasn’t because of a pre-marital murder. We simply weren’t right for each other. My last-minute wedding jitters had stopped me from marrying the wrong man.

  “Brayden’s got a lot more going for him than what’s-his-name,” Aunt Pearl pointed out.

  “You know Tyler’s name. Even if you don’t like him, you could at least be polite.”

  Aunt Pearl’s face suddenly brightened. She grabbed the cake platter. “Why
don’t I offer Tyler some Christmas cake? You know, like a peace-offering.”

  “Don’t you dare, Aunt Pearl. Poor Tyler is exhausted from work, and that cake has so much booze in it that he’s liable to pass out.” I knew better than to argue because she somehow sucked me in every time.

  Grandma Vi snorted. “Did you see Gail? She already ate two pieces! That girl’s got to have a strong constitution because she’s still standing. Somebody better have a heart-to-heart with Ruby about her damn cake, though. She’s liable to kill somebody.”

  “You could have told her years ago,” I whispered. Grandma Vi wanted one of us to take the fall, as usual. The Christmas cake had been a tradition for years, so confronting Mom after all this time was too little, too late. Our big family conspiracy had backfired in our faces.

  Grandma Vi shrugged. “Too late now. I’m a ghost. I can’t eat anymore, so it’s not my problem.”

  “It’s all of our problem, Grandma. No wonder it’s a secret recipe. It should stay that way.” The family recipe had probably been passed down to Mom from Grandma Vi in the first place.

  Grandma Vi shook her head. “It certainly didn’t come from me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I do have a problem with all these guests, though. I could do something about that.”

  “No,” I said. “They’ll be gone in a few hours. Or at least by tomorrow morning when the storm lets up.”

  “That’s far too long. How can I possibly relax with all these people here?” Grandma Vi hovered by the dining room door.

  Aunt Pearl scowled. “Is it a crime to get into the holiday spirit?”

  “No, but you’re definitely up to something, Pearl,” Grandma Vi said. “You hate people, and you hate socializing. You invited all these interlopers for a reason. I just wish I knew what it was.”

  I felt a presence behind me and turned to see Gail. I had no idea how long she had stood in the doorway.

  Gail frowned as she eyed Aunt Pearl and me. “Who are you two talking to?”

  “No one in particular.” Aunt Pearl fake-smiled.

  I waved a hand in dismissal. “Aunt Pearl was talking, not me. She talks to herself a lot. Senility and old age, I guess.”

  “Watch your mouth, missy. I’m sharper than everyone here.” Aunt Pearl said.

  Brayden came up behind Gail to see what all the fuss was about. He shook his head in disappointment at Aunt Pearl and me. “Can’t you two just get along for once?”

  My business hadn’t been his business ever since we broke up. I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind but stopped short as Aunt Pearl’s plans became clear. She was purposely provoking me into a fight by inviting Brayden and Gail in the first place. All because she resented me dating Tyler. Only her plan wasn’t working, and she was frustrated.

  Tyler was the first sheriff to stand up to Aunt Pearl and her arsonist antics. As my boyfriend, he was around way more often than she wanted. No wonder she’d rather see me with Brayden than Tyler, who she considered her archenemy.

  I was a pawn in Aunt Pearl’s chess game, and so was Tyler. Brayden, as my ex-fiancée and Tyler’s boss as mayor, was Aunt Pearl’s checkmate. Brayden’s jealous girlfriend was a last-minute bonus, all designed to stir up trouble.

  Add in the gorgeous Merlinda and it was clear that Aunt Pearl wanted all of us to be throwing pitchforks at each other. Well, I wasn’t falling for it. This was just her latest attempt to make Tyler quit his sheriff post and leave town for good. Not if I could help it.

  Brayden steered Gail back into the dining room and motioned for us to follow. “C’mon. Time to eat.”

  “Good idea.” I smiled and shooed Aunt Pearl through the dining room doorway. “Let’s go enjoy dinner.”

  Breaking bread together on a holiday could mend both old wounds and new. Brayden and I could be civil with one another, for starters. And while I didn’t exactly expect Aunt Pearl and Tyler to become fast friends anytime soon, maybe we could plant the seed. It was worth a shot.

  Aunt Pearl eyed me suspiciously, but she complied.

  “Let them eat cake!” Grandma Vi squealed in delight as she clapped her hands together. “This is going to be good.”

  I opened my mouth to reply but caught myself just in time.

  Tonight wasn’t exactly the Christmas Eve I had planned, but it was getting interesting. I might as well sit back and enjoy the entertainment.

  11

  The storm battled on but indoors all was calm after a delicious turkey dinner. Whatever jealousies simmered had been softened with copious amounts of alcohol.

  We were all a little tipsy from too much good cheer. We had polished off a half-dozen bottles of wine between us, and Dominic had downed at least a half-dozen beers. Aunt Amber and Earl had enjoyed several generous glasses of spiked eggnog, and everyone was happy, or at least civil, to one another.

  The alcohol had taken the edge off our personality conflicts and romantic rivalries for the moment. While we weren’t exactly each other’s chosen company, we had figured out how to enjoy ourselves as we rode out the storm. We had lots of good food and plenty to drink. I just hoped it wasn’t a false calm before a storm of drunken tirades.

  The lights flickered off and on as the wind howled outside. Then the power went off for good, and Mom lit the twin candelabras on the sideboard. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows but allowed us to see one another again.

  Without electricity, we could have just as easily been sitting around a 19th-century candlelit dinner table instead of a 21st-century one. The flickering flames added to the atmosphere and even seemed to soften the petty rivalries around the table.

  The dinner dishes had been cleared, and we all sat back in our chairs, content and stuffed from too much food. We sipped coffee and tea and nibbled on dessert. There was pumpkin pie with whipped cream, butter tarts, shortbread cookies and, of course, Mom’s secret recipe Christmas cake.

  Only Merlinda, Dominic, and Gail, our unsuspecting guests, had actually eaten the Christmas cake. I was thankful for the cake’s somewhat delayed reaction. When our guests’ stomachs protested later on, they would never suspect Mom’s Christmas cake.

  The rest of us stashed the cake in napkins, pockets, and purses for later disposal. In fact, the current power outage presented a great opportunity. I edged my dessert plate closer to the table edge and tipped it slightly until the cake fell into my palm. I wrapped it in my napkin and shoved it into my pocket.

  “It’s game time,” Aunt Pearl announced. “This is going to be fun.”

  “No family games with guests here, Pearl,” Mom said.

  “Why not? I love games.” Gail’s expression brightened. “What are we playing?”

  Aunt Amber clasped her hands together. “Ooh, let’s play the Hungry Games!”

  “Is that like The Hunger Games?” Gail asked.

  “Yes and no,” Aunt Amber said. “Instead of fighting for your area, you fight for food.”

  “But we already ate,” Mom protested. “I’m too stuffed to even think about food, let alone fight for it.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “You don’t have to eat it, Ruby,” Aunt Amber said. “We’ll just use the food as a prop this time. Whoever wins the most food at the end will have their wish granted. Let’s make it a game with a cargo cult theme!” She clapped her hands together.

  In the West family, a wish meant a spell. I wondered how we would accommodate our non-witchy guests.

  Mom laughed. “We’ll use whatever dessert we have on the table. A fight to the death over my Christmas cake.”

  We all stared at her, open-mouthed.

  After a few moments of awkward silence, Merlinda asked in a drunken slur, “What kind of game is that?”

  “A dumb game,” Aunt Pearl said. “I’m not motivated by food.”

  I agreed, though I didn’t dare say so out loud. Using Mom’s Christmas cake as poker chips was a recipe for disaster. The cake wouldn’t be cleared off the table anytime soon, and our
guests would be tempted to eat even more of the stuff. What if they got alcohol poisoning?

  Suddenly, Merlinda leaned back in her chair, her eyelids drooping. The wine and booze-soaked Christmas cake had clearly affected her to the extent that she looked ready to pass out. The wine was all gone. Now we really had to get rid of the cake before she ate any more.

  “I was only kidding about the cake fight.” But Mom’s crestfallen expression said otherwise. She had been deadly serious.

  Aunt Amber sensed Mom’s disappointment and quickly piped in. “Why don’t we play truth or dare instead?”

  “Great idea.” In reality, I thought truth or dare was a terrible idea, given the assorted personalities around the table. But it beat eating or hiding more alcohol-soaked Christmas cake.

  “I’ll play as long as anything goes.” Aunt Pearl smirked. “Winning at all costs is the name of the game.”

  “Count me in for that.” Gail glared in Merlinda’s direction. “I always come out on top.”

  I cast a warning glance at Aunt Pearl. “There are no winners in truth or dare. Just certain embarrassment and possible injury.”

  Mom sucked in her breath. “Nothing too reckless, though. We stop before anyone gets hurt.”

  “Don’t change anything because of us,” Gail said. “Just pretend you’re having a normal family Christmas Eve.”

  Aunt Pearl smirked. “Hah! Our West family Christmas games are anything but normal. Be careful what you wish for.”

  I shuddered. We were witches after all, and our witchy games could get a little ugly because we were all so competitive. But sharing spells with outsiders, even other witches, was a definite no-no. Aunt Pearl’s veiled threat worried me. Whatever schemes she had in mind for our guests would no doubt cross a line.

  I knew that Aunt Pearl would never share details of our supernatural spells and secrets. But I still distrusted her. Maybe it was the Earl effect, or maybe she wanted to impress Merlinda with her spell casting. She normally disliked our family witch games, so her enthusiasm signaled danger. Something was percolating in that witchy mind of hers.