I scanned the table and smiled. “It’s a magnificent spread, Gildena. You’re obviously quite a chef.”
“It’s my passion. Please try the pissaladière. It’s my specialty.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Mr. Bixby said, leaning down for a good sniff. “All clear. No poison.”
“It’s like pizza, only way better,” Blaine said. “French for the win.”
Taking a piece, I bit into it and smiled. “So good, Gildena. Heavenly.”
Bixby’s nose was up as he eyed every mouthful.
“Let him have a piece,” Gildena said. “I like dogs and I’m sure Tiffin will grow on me.”
“Don’t be that sure,” Bixby said. “No one knows what he’ll do. But I’ll save my piece for later, thanks. If Janelle doesn’t die from it.”
I finished and shook my head. “He has a sensitive tummy. But I’m going for this little puff next.”
“Gougères,” Gildena said. “Fancy name for cheese puff.”
They were so good I had two. “Never tasted anything like this, and I’ve worked in a million resorts, give or take.”
“Mom was always an amazing cook,” Cassie said. “I was a chubby kid. Dad never let up about it. Wanted me to join a weight loss program before I was ten.”
Gildena squeezed her daughter again. “You were perfect in every way and still are. I wouldn’t change a single curl on your head.”
Cassie finally brightened. “Even though you hate yours?”
Her mother patted an unruly tangle of graying curls. “So hard to manage, especially in Wyldwood Springs. How do you do it, Janelle? Your hair is beautiful.”
“Three million products tried and tossed,” I said. “Happy to share my damp climate secrets.”
Mr. Bixby drooped over my arm. “Girl bonding. Can it be more frivolous than hair?”
Gildena glanced at him, bemused. “Those grumbles are adorable. It’s almost as if he’s complaining.”
“He is. That’s how he lets me know he’s bored. But I don’t dare put him down with so many people walking around.” The din had grown behind us. “This is quite a turnout.”
Cassie nodded. “Most are here as a formality. And one of them is likely behind my father’s death.”
Gildena patted Cassie’s back. “They’ll find him, don’t you worry.” Glancing at me, she added, “One of the Main Street Mafia, I bet. Angus ran with a slick crowd.”
I decided not to wade into those murky waters aloud, and she’d shut me out of the sneakier route. “You’re right, Gildena. The police will find out what really happened.”
She caught my eye. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you helped solve a few crimes, Janelle. It sounds like a special talent of yours.”
I offered a bland smile. “Overhyped, I’m afraid. Just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Like this time,” Cassie said. “What are the chances of your being in the library when my father died?”
“I love the library. It was a safe haven when I was young.” I sighed. “Not anymore.”
I’d hoped to deter Gildena, but she pressed on. “I just wondered if there was anything you could do to help find the killer, Janelle. With a criminal still at large, I worry about Cassie’s safety. That’s why I’m here. To protect her.”
“I’m a novice just like Cassie and Blaine. Like my own mom says, it takes time and practice.” I tipped my head and smiled. “She warned me just last night about taking on too much too soon.”
Cassie stepped in to help. “We have our training program now. Mr. Strump will lead us along. Right, Janelle?”
“I’m counting on it, that’s for sure. I need all the help I can get.”
Gildena rolled her eyes. “Norris Strump. With all due respect to Ruthann, he’s well past his prime. I intend to visit her and offer my services, at least as a guest lecturer.”
“Guest lectures are a great idea. I’d welcome that,” I said.
“We haven’t had one lecture yet.” I recognized the grating voice even before I turned. Marli Seagrave had come up behind us. “Maybe you could be a real teacher, Mrs. MacDuff. I bet you had to know a lot of magic to survive a marriage with Angus.”
I probably should have stuck around to run interference for Cassie but I couldn’t stand it. Excusing myself discreetly, I made my way back to Sinda, Ren and Bijou.
“Alert,” Bixby said, as our group united. “Prepare for incoming magical flatulence.”
The snakes in my belly were roiling. “Can we avoid Oscar? He’s going to give us a hard time over absconding with the golf cart. If not leaving a turkey behind.”
“Too late,” Ren said. “Tavi Knight is heading our way. Where she goes, Oscar follows.”
It was true. Now that she wasn’t protected with his magic, the overconfident man always looked uneasy when his wife was moving about freely. His past actions could come back to haunt him at any moment through his Achilles heel. His adoration of Tavi was somewhat redeeming, though not enough to quell my inner snakes.
Tonight, Oscar’s past resurfaced before Tavi even reached us. Cousin Liberty crossed the room wearing a stylish, fitted black dress and a pillbox hat, complete with small veil. Her strut wasn’t dissimilar to my dog’s.
“Not untrue,” he said, aloud. “Only she does it in heels. At seventy-something.”
