Free Bewitched, Bothered, and Biscotti: A Magical Bakery Mystery by Bailey Cates Page A

Eastmore all felt too coincidental. Not to mention
     that Declan and I had discovered the body in the first place.
    My breath rasped in and out of my lungs, ragged and harsh. I wiped moisture off my
     forehead with the back of my wrist. The scent of sautéing onions drifted from one
     of the apartments stacked on both sides of the street.
    I couldn’t help being curious. Getting hit over the head in one of the historic squares
     of Savannah seemed more secular than magical. How could I tell Quinn who Eastmore
     was so he could find the killer? Yes, I was thinking in terms of a murder, but Quinn
     was right—it could have been an accident. It was hard to believe that, but I’d only
     seen the guy lying under the rhododendron. So it was possible. Either way, the police
     couldn’t investigate properly unless they knew the dead man’s identity.
    That was silly, though. Quinn was a perfectly capable detective, and he’d said Detective
     Taite was smart. They’d have people canvassing the neighborhoods aroundJohnson Square, taking fingerprints, looking at video footage, and whatever else they
     did to solve their cases. They probably already knew who he was. They didn’t require
     any help from me.
    I needed to get over myself. Katie Lightfoot simply wasn’t that important to the equation.
    Katie! Go left! Now!
    Instantly, I veered left between two cars, into the street and oncoming traffic. A
     minivan screeched to a halt, and I flung up my hand, as if that would make it stop
     faster. The horn blared. A woman screamed.
    A sickeningly wet crash behind me made my heart buck in my chest. I sprinted five
     more steps as more dull, moist thuds sounded. I stopped and spun around. An amber
     projectile streaked down from above, and I instinctively ducked. It exploded on the
     pavement where I’d been running, followed immediately by another.
    My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my chin jerked up, and I frantically searched the
     sky. It was blue and cloudless.
    The barrage seemed to have stopped.
    The minivan driver got out and joined me. “Wow. They barely missed hitting you.” Her
     voice shook.
    Hand at my throat, I nodded and gulped air into my lungs. “Yeah,” I managed at last.
    Vivid, flame-colored remnants of several pumpkins lay in shreds and chunks on the
     sidewalk. Their slimy guts spattered the brick wall of the apartment building, the
     ground, and the sides of several cars. Over the years I’d seen the result of kids’
     “tossing” jack-o’-lanterns on Halloween, but this was different. Some of the pieces
     of pumpkin were recognizable shards, but many hadliquefied when they’d hit the pavement. The seeds and pumpkin goo looked disturbingly
     like the insides of something that had once been alive. What might normally have struck
     me as mild vandalism instead felt violent and threatening. I shook myself, carefully
     avoiding the reason why: Any one of those orange missiles could have killed me with
     a direct hit.
    “Oh, my God! I’m so
sorry
!” The voice came faintly from above, and I craned my neck to look up. A dark-haired
     woman in a purple bathrobe waved her hands from the eighth-story terrace. “Stay there!
     I’m coming right down.” She disappeared into the apartment behind her.
    “Are you okay?” The woman who had honked at me only moments before asked with obvious
     concern. She was a few years older than me.
    I blinked back at her. “I guess so.” Took a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes. Of course.
     I’m fine.” She could have run right over me. I shuddered again.
    But this nice woman hadn’t been the one who warned me. I looked around. A few residents
     had ventured out of nearby doorways to inspect the mess. As soon as they realized
     no one was hurt and there would be no flashing lights to gawk at, most turned right
     around and went back inside.
    Katie! Go left! Now!
I’d heard the words loud and clear and had responded to the directive without a split
     second of thought.