Some Enchanted clair : A Magical Bakery Mystery (9780698140561) by Bailey Cates Page A

share.”
    Uh-oh.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” My voice sounded weak.
    He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Katie, I like you.”
    â€œUm, I like you, too.” The last word lilted up, making my statement sound like a question. What was he getting at?
    â€œAnd I think you have a good heart. Good intentions, if you will.”
    I waited.
    â€œBut darn it, why are you so often in the middle of my homicide cases?” His voice rose an octave in frustration.
“Why?”
    Mungo scrambled to his feet.
    At least I wasn’t in the middle of
all
of his murder investigations, I wanted to say. Only the ones with some kind of paranormal activity involved. But then why was I here? Was it because Ursula was a psychic?
    I said, “I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I truly don’t. And furthermore, I don’t
want
to get involved. It just seems to . . . happen . . .” I trailed off, the very picture of lame.
    He sat for a moment, then shook his head. “Okay. Fine. Call me if you think of anything that might help with this one.”
    â€œReally?” I was stunned. “You want my help?”
    â€œSo far no one seems to have seen anything, and no one is bad-mouthing anyone else—which, frankly, I find a little odd.”
    What about Niklas telling you Althea drinks too much?
    â€œWe’ll see what the physical evidence says, but I can tell this one is going to be tricky.” He stood. “I don’t know what else to say. Whatever the reason for your involvement, you’ve given me good information in the past. In fact, you’ve actually helped find three killers. Even my limited intuition says it would be stupid not to at least listen to you.” At the doorway, he turned. “Katie, that’s not an invitation to actively investigate. Okay?”
    Still speechless, I nodded.
    â€œAll right, then. You’re free to go.”
    I picked up Mungo and followed him out of the tent. “Quinn?”
    He paused and tipped his head to the side. “What?”
    â€œHave you heard anything from Franklin Taite since he left for New Orleans?”
    â€œTaite? Now, why would you ask about him? As I recall, you two weren’t exactly the best of friends.”
    Which was true as far as Quinn knew. And I still wouldn’t call Taite my friend, so much as absent mentor. Now I was trying to figure out how absent he really was.
    â€œHe seemed like a pretty good detective, though,” Quinn said.
    Other than thinking I was the devil’s spawn for a while there.
    â€œAnd he’s the last person you were partnered with,” I said.
    â€œHe was okay,” Quinn said. “But I like working alone—and no, I haven’t heard anything from him since he left.”
    â€œHmm. Well, I’m sure he’s living it up down there in the Big Easy and doesn’t have much time to stay in touch.” I started off across the square. “See you later, Detective.”
    He watched me go with a speculative look on his face.

Chapter 5
    The late-day sun cast shadows across the walkway leading up to the front door of Ben and Lucy’s town house. Pots marched along each side of the path, overflowing with verbena, petunias, marigolds, and geraniums and accented with blowsy ornamental grasses and richly colored sweet potato vines. As I stepped toward the bright rows of flora, Mungo wiggled in the tote bag slung from my shoulder.
    â€œLooking forward to seeing Honeybee?” I asked.
    Yip!
    But it wasn’t just that, I realized a second later when the tantalizing fragrance of slow-roasted pork layered with garlic and savory spices reached my nose. Mungo was always excited to visit my aunt and uncle’s home and hang out with my aunt’s familiar, but I knew it was the prospect of supper that made him lick the drool off his wee chops. The aroma drifted all the way to the public sidewalk.