Spelling Mistake (The Kitchen Witch Book 4) Read Free Page B

about a supernatural entity that I had accidentally summoned, while standing next to the body of a murder victim. “Scott Plank came in here in a foul mood, and demanded a sample of a cupcake, and then threw it on the floor. I went into the kitchen to get something to clean it up, and when I came back I found him there. I’m just scared that the entity strangled him because he was rude to me, or something.” When I said it, it did sound lame, and that gave me a little bit of hope.
    Thyme frowned. She patted my shoulder quickly. “I’m sure this thing didn’t do it, Amelia. Don’t worry.” Her tone was less than convincing.
    I remembered something important. “Oh, and when I left to get something to clean up the mess, Kayleen and Craig were still in the shop.”
    Thyme opened her mouth to speak, but the arrival of the police forestalled her. I recognized Sergeant Tinsdell, but the constable was new, and he had a far more pleasant face than Constable Walker’s. I had heard that Walker had been transferred, but I hadn’t heard anything about his replacement.
    Tinsdell sighed heavily when he saw me. “This is getting to be quite a habit, Miss Spelled.” He looked at us both and then nodded at the other officer. “This is Constable Dawson.”
    “Well, hello,” Thyme said, looking the constable up and down. “The sticky buns aren’t the only sweet thing in your shop,” she whispered to me.
    I elbowed her in the rib. I could only assume that the stress was getting to her.
    “We’re here to investigate,” the constable announced.
    “You’re not here for a croissant, then?” I said sarcastically.
    The constable appeared not to take offense. “You’re not trying to bribe a police officer, are you, ladies?” He beamed at Thyme, who giggled.
    Sergeant Tinsdell glared at the constable. “Dawson, a murder has just occurred.”
    Dawson looked shamefaced for a moment, before shooting another smile at Thyme when the sergeant wasn’t looking. I had never seen Thyme interested in anyone before, and she sure seemed taken with this police officer. It appeared to be mutual.
    “The detectives are on their way,” Sergeant Tinsdell said, “so I suggest we go into a back room and await their arrival. I’ll take your statements. I assume neither of you touched anything?”
    Thyme and I shook our heads. “Thyme wasn’t even here when it happened,” I said. “She arrived back here after I called you.”
    The police officers followed me into the little office. I hastily wiped the small table while Thyme snuffed the lemongrass candle burning in one corner.
    The sergeant pulled out a notepad and a pen. “You know the routine by now, Miss Spelled. Tell me what happened, right from the beginning, and then you can give your statement to the detectives later. We won’t need to take your fingerprints to exclude them from the crime scene, as we already have them on record.” He shot me a pointed look as he said it.
    I recounted the events, how I had gone to the physical therapist, and then returned to the shop, replaced Thyme, and then served Craig and Kayleen as well as Scott Plank. I told them how Scott had yelled at someone on the phone and then thrown his cupcake to the floor. I told him that Craig and Kayleen and Scott had all been in the room together when I left to get something to clean up the cupcake remains on the floor, and when I returned, Scott was dead.
    “Right,” Tinsdell said. “The forensics team will bag that cupcake out there, and we’ll need to bag all the cupcakes from that batch. The shop will have to be shut until we get the test results back.”
    “But he wasn’t poisoned,” I protested. “He was strangled.”
    “Just because there was a rope around his neck doesn’t mean that he was strangled,” Tinsdell said in a superior tone. “We can’t make assumptions in this line of work.”
    I was seething. It was obvious that Scott had been strangled, given the angry red mark around his neck,