Sweet Menace (3 page)

Taken as a criminal to the police station was something new to me. Sam, the handsome best man, left me with another cop who was the one leading me to justice. From outside my shop, Officer Sam Whilhey just left in a motorcycle without a hint that he recognized me. In the police station I was led to an interrogation room and left by myself there. I sat to think. My head was so full of feelings I couldn’t think with sanity. Resting my head to the cold surface of the stainless steel table I remembered what he had said. I was there under the suspicions of poisoning the town’s people.

“Want water?”

I straightened myself in the cold chair and looked at him. Confusion took power of me. Confusion and pain. How someone can make me feel so perplexed and nervous when I’m the one who plays to be the killer queen bee? When I’m the one under investigation? He asked again but I just denied with the head.

“Morgan, what exactly did you do yesterday?” -He asked, all official and protocol.

“Well, before or after dancing with you?” -I dared to answer with a no-nice tone.

“You think this is funny? You know why you’re here? These are serious accusations and you want to play flirting?” -He scolded me.

“I’m sorry.” -I said looking at my hands sweating and twisting in my lap. Oh, boy! This man seriously knows his way to make a woman feel shame.

“What exactly di
d
you d
o
yesterday? Something new you use
d
wit
h
your food? Someone else helped you cook or at the wedding?” -He kept making questions.

“Nobody helps me cook. I always cook alone. In the reception I had help to serve the food and entrées.”

“You know those people? Trust them?” -Sam continued with the interrogation. -“I need a list of their names.”

It was hard for me to understand why all this was happening. I thought this was related to what happened with Jerome’s blanket that morning but I was very wrong.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. I have neve
r
ha
d
problems in my life.” -I told him while writing some names in a piece of paper he handed me. -“How would I poison this people? Especially my only relative?”

As soon as the words left my lips I regretted having asked. My cheeks blushed so bad I feared I was giving myself away. What if, in fact, my hatred for this people was so big that it turned into a spirit zest to spice yesterday’s food? No. It couldn’t be. I have cooked with hate revolving my foundation since I set foot in this town of murderers and profaners and I haven’t killed anyone. Yet.

“See Morgan, people got sick yesterday. People at the wedding. People who ate your food and your sweets. Help me with this, please.”

What only came to my mind was that my thoughts found a way to inside the food, to poison people. My biggest wish was to kill the groom. But I can’t tell him that. I can’t say it. I can’t let him know my rage and hatred. I would never say it aloud to him.

“Jerome sent some friends of him to help at the buffet table. He said they were trusty. You were there too. You told me you were watching me while serving the food to the guests. You’re not sick. The people I saw this morning weren’t sick at all and they were there as well.” -I defended myself.

“I don’t know what I saw.” -Sam said looking fixed at my eyes. -“If we don’t solve this, you’ll have to stay here, jailed to pay for those accusations while we arrange a major trial for you. Help me here, Morgan. Help me to have a better judgment of you. Someone apart from you had access to the food before served? Someone suspicious? Something wrong?”

I wanted to help him. I wanted to say something. I didn’t want to take credit for the crime someone else committed. But if the crime was mine, and many of this people die for this, I’ll happily take pride of the action. His eyebrows were so furrowed they were almost touching each other. Expression lines of worry appeared in the corner of his eyes and those little things made him look even more handsome. My heart was beating even quicker than yesterday when we danced a ballad before Connie Marie Valence, aka Blondie Man Eater, came to take him away.

“This morning Jerome said something that, if I consider it now, was kind of suspicious.” -I confessed, remembering our early brawl.

“And what was that?” -Sam asked without much interest.

“He said that thanks to his ancestors he ordered Lavender to eat nothing at the wedding.” -Regrets weren’t coming to me when on purpose I changed his words to make them seem worst. Maybe Jerome had used the word “told” or “said” instead of “ordered”, but Sam didn’t have to know it. Right?

“Why he said that to his wife? Why wasn’t she allowed to eating anything?” -While Sam paced up and down, he recited those questions. Certainly he wasn’t asking me, because I had no answer to Jerome’s weird words, but I was enjoying so bad watching Sam’s strong frame while his gun was firmly attached to his abs. From this day on I’m in love with uniformed guys with permit to carry big guns.

“What kind of symptoms people have?” -I asked when I realized I was staring so deeply at him that he was watching me with the corner of the eye, a big cute grin in his mouth. He had to be so used to this… to be watched and devoured with hungry gazes.

A knock on the door broke the electric magic going on around us. Another officer came into the interrogation room calling Sam to one corner. After a few sentences exchanged, the officer left the room and Sam gathered all the papers, throwing them to the garbage.

“Come, miss. Let me escort you back home.” -Sam offered while extending his hand at me just like the previous day at the wedding. I made no question neither waited a second but hurried to slide my fingers in between his and walked fast out the police station.

I can’t name what I’m feeling right now but it is obvious love and hate come holding hands like lovebirds. Early home without anything better to do, I turned my oven on, closed my cookbooks and let my mind create a new masterpiece. What came to my mind smelled like him. Every bite tasted like his voice- raspberry chocolaty macaroons- and suddenly I hated him so bad. Despised him for being rude and kind, stern and gentle. All those things tangled together in the fine man he appeared to be.

I should be cautious as he was the best man in my cousin’s wedding to a jerk, which means he’s one of the jerk’s best friends. That equation will be summarized into him being a jerk too. But when he took me home today he behaved all gentleman and classy.

“I would ask you to invite me in but I think I know better than to try it, so see you later.” -His face reflected the opposite of what he had said. Funny how eyes can betray us, as his were yelling
if you invite me in I’ll kiss you
. If I say I wasn’t tempted to invite him to a cup of coffee I’ll be a liar, but I took my ground. He had taken me like arrested that very morning, threatened me like a common criminal.
Show some respect to yourself, Morgan.

“Sorry, officer. You arrested me just a few hours ago. I’ll call that a conflict of interests.” -I answered teasingly.

“That wasn’t technically an arrest. You need to be handcuffed to be arrested. I was just using my bad-cop method.” -Vainly, he tried to defend himself before walking away. It was better that way. Our paths would never cross again.

After the sickness in town resulted into water they drank in a near water well I had nothing to do with, I was resting relieved. My soul was unexplainably comforted about not being a murderer. Silly me, I shouldn’t be worried if I was still planning on turning a mass killer fairly soon. Preparing next day’s menu I noticed I ran out of dragon fruit for some tartlets I was planning to do.

Night air smelled like coriander and parsley, herbaceous aromas dragging me through the wet night air. Getting ready for next day’s challenges seemed harder with Sam Whilhey’s image engraved in my head. Dragon fruit tartlets seemed weak and easy as opening an ice cream bowl and engulf it all in a single sit. Despite the simplicity of it, it was wiser to go for a walk to clear my cloudy mind.

Soon I found myself with a straw basket in hand, feet easily sliding into rubber boots. Walking under the moonlight towards the herb field I gardened close to my house I felt free as in no other moment. I was accustomed to collect my usual herbs every evening, though never this late when the sun has long gone and only frogs, crickets and owls were watching over me.

Never afraid of the dark I learned to live in the shadow. My cousin’s shadow. Her family shadow. My past’s shadow. In the shadow of my powers. What could be scarier than a limp witch stumbling in the middle of the night, gathering herbs for who knows what concoction?

Basket full of regular herbs I walked a little farther to a lily pond beyond my property. Dragon fruit grew better closer to the pond. Juicier and bigger too. Their white petals were a precious treasure to me. Wild and fragrant. Lasting aromatherapy. With it I prepared my usual body scrub. No witchcraft involved, just science and food engineering twisted together to feed both body and soul. Sitting in the shore I took my boots off and slowly sank my toes into the cold water. My legs had never felt so free rather than this very night, shoeless, careless, without been watched by tons of eyes.

Fireflies flitted around, their yellowish green light reflected in the trembling water as fireworks. I liked flowers and plants so much that I used to ask their permission before cutting some leaves. Portobello mushrooms were the hardest to take as I feared for them to yell at me hard as mandrakes. Here, surrounded with plants and flowers, and in my kitchen covered in flour and smudged with sweet frostings I can tell what it feels to be a witch. To be a witch with a black cat and a flying straw broom was just a tale of yore.

Steps through the forest crushing dry leaves startled me, quickly activating my defense system. I hurried to put my boots back on, grabbed my herb basket and hung it in my elbow.

Contrary to what my intelligence told me, I walked towards where the noise was coming. A teen girl maybe my age was crouched under a tree, crying and sobbing while chewing wild flowers.

“Hello?” -I ventured to call. My inner coward told me to run, to shut my mouth, to cast a spell on this girl or maybe just go back home without been noticed. -“Are you alright?”

I repeated my question several times but she kept sobbing and chewing. She was acting like a dog in pain.

“Don’t come closer.” -She said between tears. Her words seemed like a warning to me, first furious then fearful. -“Don’t harm me, please. Let me go. I won’t say anything about you.” -She finished with trembling voice.

“What are you talking about? I won’t hurt you.” -At the mention of those words she looked at me. To my surprise, her eyes were fire, horrid flames of fire. Instantly I regretted having ignored my inner coward, who was wiser than my nonchalant and intrepid personality. This girl was hardly a normal human. She had a mayor evil inside.

“The witch. She said this to me.” -Those first two words felt over me as ice bath. I’ve spent years looking for signs of others like me just to give up and accept to be the last of my kind. This girl’s words changed it all.

“What witch? How is she?” -I asked while curiosity was creeping through my body as mucky earthworms.

“Adult and evil. You notice her as soon as you see her diabolic face. Beware, she’ll kill us all with painful deaths.”

I walked closer to the girl but she just stood up and ran away from me, disappearing between the black cloak of the night.

Teapot boiling, I finished my French braid before serving myself a steaming cup of coffee with frothed whole milk. Parsley chopped over goat curd topping some crispy buttery crackers made a perfect and fast breakfast before going walking back to my bakery. My van was left abandoned there under the scrutinizing eye of bystanders the previous day. I preferred not to give it much a thought because it was easier to imagine what a silly idiot could make of my van if the chance was given.

A knock on the door scared me, something hard to happen anyway, but this time I was freaked out. Memories of the girl talking about a lethal witch marauding town were brought to my mind. Waiting a few seconds I moved from my chair to read the clock. Five forty five in the morning. Another knock startled me and my legs moved towards the door without waiting for a prudent brain command.

My fingers touched the bolt of the door, willing to open the house to any stranger. Whoever was waiting outside could certainly be someone who had forgotten their wedding anniversary or a son’s birthday and was at my door remembering- while going to work- that he would sleep on the couch if returned home empty-handed.

“Morgan? Are you awake?” -Obvious, I thought. A man. One forgetful man. -“It’s me, Sam Whilhey.”

I hurried to open the door to admire the handsome uniformed man right in my porch.

“Sorry. Did I wake you up? My bad.” -He apologized with sincerity.

“No. I was just taking my morning coffee.” -I answered while stood there, silent, watching him from my house's threshold. -“Want some coffee?”

Say yes, Sam. Please, say yes.
I thought.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I remembered your van was left at your shop yesterday and it’s my fault you have to walk all the way there. Will be rude of me not to help a lady; so I come to offer you a ride.” -His eyes glistened with every word and my heart was sinking so deep as an useless ship.

Blushing, I looked away and my first thought was hideous. Having known Sam was coming, I would have dressed better. With these ordinary clothes I looked like another common village girl.

“How thoughtful of you, officer Whilhey! I’ll collect my stuff if you give me five minutes.” -I said and opened the door ajar. -“Come, make yourself at home.”

He stood still in the threshold, like inviting him inside my house was somehow an offensive act. Grabbing him by the hand I dragged Sam inside my house.

“I can wait outside. I don’t want to cause you any trouble, or people thinking wrong about you.” -He apologized shyly. His naughty eyes said otherwise.
I don’t care what this crappy town villagers want to say, I want…

“I don’t care what they assume.” -I answered without thinking.

“What you said?” -He asked confused.

“…Either they think we are from easy living or spinsters dedicated to sanctity. I don’t care.” -He smiled at me and I melted like butter over fresh baked baguettes. -“Coffee?” -I asked, already placing a mug of coffee and a saucer with crackers and cheese in front of him.

“Sugar?” -I offered.

“No, please.” -He answered quickly, a disapproving look on his face. He nibbled some cheese and sipped his coffee and I couldn’t stop to imagine having this cute fine man in my coffee table not just every morning, but every meal as well.

“I hardly have any visitors besides Lavender so I apologize in advance if my manners to treat guests are inappropriate.” -I dared to apologize, but it was true, I never have visitors so I don’t know how to be a good host.

Getting off his patrol car this very morning, he opened the door for me and helped me to open my bakery.

“You’ve been an outstanding host this morning, Ms. Caprice. Maybe I’ll take my lunch local today. Thank you so much.” -He said while saying goodbye with a bow.

“Oh, thank you, officer Whilhey. I had given a road trip fit for royalty. Two days in a row.” -I riposted between laughs.

“That must be a record then.”

After he left I cursed my name at least a hundred times. I was falling into the same disgrace that killed my family. I was the curse to both my mother and father. If they were still alive they would be spitting over my birth date. Luckily, they don’t live anymore.

They are gone. Not in the best way, but gone the same.

Murdered by their own kin.

Cold blood death brought as consequence of Love.

Gregor, the messenger, came calling me. I was busy in the bakery’s private room where I worked and baked without been seen by prying onlookers.

“Baker… Baker.” -He yelled from behind the dessert showcase.

“Bloody bad habit, Gregor.” -I protested, coming to the front of my shop. -“I’ve told you a hundred times I have a name. Stop calling me Baker!”

I shook the excess of confectionary sugar off of my fingers and apron. Gregor looked at me like a kid will look an alien.

“What are you staring at?” -I asked with a repressive tone. -“Stop looking at me like if I don’t belong to this world and tell me why are you calling me with so urgent voice.”

“Mrs. Lavender wants you to come to her house before her husband returns from work.” -Gregor said at last. I thought about it for a second. No. I needed to hold my ground. She had rejected me for her now husband. Had supported what he had said about me being a criminal who poisoned the town on her wedding day. She allowed Jerome to humiliate not just her but her family as well, me included.

“Tell Mrs. Lavender that first of all I have a phone. Is a modern apparatus that prevents us from using the messenger, a guy who looks the message’s recipient as someone with scabies all over. Second, tell her that she knows where I live and that I’ll be more than happy to receive her in my house for tea. Now go.”

The messenger looked at me, incredulous for my lack of manners. The fault was not his alone, but of the whole town. They had forced me to act as a sarcastic chick instead of a proper lady.

The showcase was now full of sultry danishes and pies. The dragon fruit tartlets tasted exquisite and I couldn’t help but eat a few more than what I intended in the first time. But hey, when I’m angry I kill my bad humor engulfing many sweet treats. Aspiring is a pain reliever. Sugar is a cranky killer.

Food was ready. Beef stew simmering in the huge crock pot. Salad well arranged, waiting to be utterly attractive to hungry clients. The vapor coming from the hot rice with bacon and chives tarnished the glass. Everything was at display waiting for lunch time.

Soon, hungry people ordered and I served. I served while they ordered. They were so nice to me while I fed them. While I was dirty and suffocated from cooking for them, they liked me. As long as there was always hot food to warm their bodies, I was a nice lady. As long as I wasn’t walking down the street, forcing them to twist their gazes at my different walking.

“I want a service, please.” -To my surprise, Sam had come to lunch after all. -“Little rice. Lots of meat and salad, please.”

“Well, hello.” -I managed to say, while it was impossible not to think on how disheveled I looked. -“Take out or dine in?”

“Dine in, if I can find an empty spot. You have quite nice business here. Income should be decent.” -He confessed.

“It is, but I don’t care about money. There’s not too much to invest in this town
.
I
s
it?” -While I said it I looked at him, finding out he was staring at me attentively. -“Dessert is on the house!”

Officer Sam Whilhey smiled at me. Oh so gorgeous smile! How silly of me. Just yesterday I was certain we would never meet again.

“I’ll pass on dessert though they all look mouthwatering. I have some issues with sugar.” -He passed me a five dollar bill but I gave it back to him.

“On the house anyway. For the morning ride.” -I flirted with a wink. -“Come this way.”

Quickly I arranged a coffee table, covered it with a fine satin tablecloth and placed his food and a bottle of water on it. While he sat to eat, I excused myself to return to attend waiting customers.

Politely, Sam waited for me to finish the line. He even cleared a few tables. I couldn’t avoid thinking on what a nice team we can come to be. Team Sam and Morgan. That sounded so nice that my plan of revenge seemed so little now. But what was I supposed to do? Abandon this dream? Let go off the pain and rage that I had harbored during my whole life?  Or built new dreams, bigger aspirations which can outgrow my pain?

“Miss Caprice, it has been a pleasure.” -Sam said ready to leave and return to work.

I stood right where I was. The murmurs of people still echoed in my brain. People talking about me. Others praising the food. And some of them complaining for my excessive attentions to Officer Whilhey.

“Are you okay?” -Sam asked holding me. It was like I was abandoning my body to just look at everything going on from above. -“Need to go to the hospital?”

So sweet of him!

“I’m fine. It’s just the excess of heat.” -I lied.

“You better take care. Control the sugar you eat. It can be bad as hell, believe me. I talk for own experience.” -Sam advised. -“Some of these things you sell here are poison to the body. No offense, but sugar is sometimes a terrible enemy. Ask me.”

“I’ll ask you.” -Someone talked from behind us. We both turned to look to who was eavesdropping our conversation. -“I think we didn’t have a proper introduction, Officer. I’m Ms. Connie Marie Valence. You can call me Connie. It is nice meeting you at last.”

Sam shook her hand politely and she blinked excessively.

“Are you eating here today, Ms. Valence?” -Sam tried to make conversation. -“Because I can suggest the salad and chicken with veggies. Morgan, here, cooks heavenly.”

Connie looked straight at me when Sam mentioned my name. A wave of anger ran through me as I knew what she had in mind. I tried to be clever enough and don’t show any interest for Sam in presence of any of these people.

“Oh, thanks, Officer. But God forbid me to eat like a commoner.” -Connie tried to act offended. -“I’m here to get some hors d'oeuvre my mother forgot to order yesterday. We have a little reunion for friends on home. You should come.”

“Well.” -Sam turned towards me raising his eyebrows, a displeased expression masking his face. -“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.” -I said straightening my body and taking my apron off. -“Now you must go. Don’t want to be late to protect this ghost town, right?”

We both laugh for my joke, but he stopped laughing and looked sternly at me.

“I’ll be returning to work. Thanks for everything, Ms. Caprice. See you later.” -He walked away but soon came back to me. -“You know something about ghosts? Witches maybe?”