Magically Murdered: A Witch Cozy Mystery (Paranormal Bed & Breakfast Mysteries Book 1)

2020·0.22 MB·english

by  Joynell Schultz [Schultz

Magically Murdered

A Paranormal Bed & Breakfast
Mystery,
Book 1

JOYNELL SCHULTZ
Copyright © 2020 Joynell Schultz
All rights reserved.

ISBN (print):  9798646081446

WET DOG PRESS

Cover by Author
Editing by Mary Smith Editing, www.chicklitshop.net/editing-service

Magically Murdered: A Paranormal Bed & Breakfast Mystery

There’s something magically mysterious about Moonstruck Manor, and Kyla can’t put her finger on
it.
And neither can the police.
Two murders had happened on the property in the past six months, and it can’t be a coincidence.
Especially since both murdered suspects just happened to be  hired as breakfast cooks. That’s why
the police called in Kyla, a witch, as an outside consultant to work undercover as Moonstruck
Manor's latest culinary mastermind. Unfortunately, although she might be able to detect hidden
magic, she’s absolutely no good at whipping up breakfast.
But this bed and breakfast is filled with suspicious people, from the gardener who knows a lot about
toxic herbs to the housekeeper who was having an affair with both previous victims, and then there’s
the handsome bed and breakfast manager…a man Kyla’s attracted to more than she ever thought
possible…but that’s just a bit of magic, too.
With the murderer targeting the bed & breakfast cooks, can Kyla solve the murder before she
becomes the next victim?

Learn more about the PARANORMAL BED & BREAKFAST MYSTERIES at
http://www.joynellschultz.com/PNBB
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
Magically Attacked, Chapter 1
Chapter 1

My sister was a typical twenty-first century witch.
Her magic just “happened” when she mixed ingredients together. Be
it in a magical spell or simply in a batch of cupcakes at her old-fashioned
mortal bakery.
Me on the other hand?
I wasn’t quite sure what type of witch I was, but whichever type it
was, I knew I wasn’t typical.
A wisp of sweet steam struck my face like a rush of magic as I
pulled seventy-two cupcakes out from the commercial oven at my sister’s
bakery. One pan was perfect, another one burnt, while the top pan’s batter
still wiggled. I glanced over my shoulder at Tabitha, with her ginger hair
tied up in a messy bun and her flour-spotted black apron, and gave her my
apologetic, puppy-dog eyes.
My sister joined me at the stainless-steel island to admire the
disaster.
I tossed the final pan of cupcakes down. “How is it possible that I
ruin them every single time? I follow the directions and use the exact same
equipment that you do…and yet, my stuff doesn’t even compare to yours!
You swear you’re not using magic to make yours turn out perfect?”
Tabitha laughed. “Of course not! We want cupcakes that simply
taste good, not ones that make people fall in love or spill the truth.”
I shook my head at my failed baking attempt. “We’ll have to throw
away two-thirds of these.”
“That’s why I told you we needed six dozen.” A slow, sneaky smile
grew on her glossed lips.
“I made six dozen and two-thirds of them are ruined.”
“Kyla, we actually only need two dozen.”
“Oh.” I chuckled. “Is that how you manage me? You plan on me
ruining things? I don’t know why you keep me around.”
Tabitha dumped the hockey-puck burnt cupcakes into the garbage
and flashed me her sweet, hometown-girl smile. “Like I have a choice?”
As I threw the raw cupcakes back into the oven, the bakery’s front
door chimed. I brushed the flour and cocoa powder mixture off my apron so
that the bright pink cupcake logo for Sprinkles was visible. I was sure I had
cake batter smeared on my forehead, but that was the life of a baker, or at
least, a woman who attempted to bake because she didn’t know what else to
do with her life. “I got it.”
“Now, that’s why I keep you around,” Tabitha teasingly called after
me as I headed towards the shop’s front end.
My hand flew up to my wild, sweat-filled hair, trying to smooth
down my dark auburn locks when I saw the navy blue uniform and shiny
gold badge in front of the dessert display case.
“Officer Gentry.” I smiled, but when he scowled at me, I quickly
rectified the issue, switching to his first name. He hated being called
“Officer” by his friends outside of the precinct, but his uniform always
triggered the respect he deserved. “Devin…what brings you down here? I
thought I was meeting you at the station later this evening.” Like after I had
a chance to shower, throw on the cutest dress in my closet that made my
barely-there boobs look like something spectacular, style my hair in an up-
do, and brush on enough powder that he wouldn’t see the little
imperfections in my skin that being thirty-something brought out.
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d save you some time
tonight.” He flashed me a big toothpaste-white smile that used to make me
swoon when we had dated years ago. Hell, who was I kidding? It still did.
Why had I run away from him as soon as he had hinted at commitment?
“Besides, I couldn’t resist an opportunity to grab one of Tabitha’s famous
chocolate hazelnut biscotti.”
From the back, Tabitha’s voice called out, “The secret’s the instant
coffee added to the mix.”
I snatched two from the dessert cabinet and handed them over in a
little wax paper bag. When he pulled out his wallet, I waved him to put it
back away. “It’s on the house.”
“You sure?”
“She’s sure,” Tabitha yelled.
I hitched my thumb in my sister’s direction, trying to look somewhat
cute. “And she owns the bakery, so her word is law. So, why did you want
to see me tonight?”
Tabitha and I had spent all morning speculating why Devin had
called me. He told me the police needed my help, but deep down, I hoped
that was just a line—a way for him to get closer to this witch again. Never
mind that I had an active consulting contract with the local law
enforcement.
I mean, there was no way I could pay the bills by burning cupcakes.
My little consulting gig was enough to help Tabitha and I make ends
meet while she struggled with her dream business, and I spent most of my
time here helping out—free of charge. It’s not like I knew what to do with
my life. You’d think at thirty-two, I’d have it all laid out in front of me. Ha!
Not quite.
Black Hallows had a bit more paranormal activity than the typical
midwestern town. Because of that, a few people at the local police station
knew about the existence of magic. Law enforcement sometimes needed an
expert to investigate those crimes that were unexplainable by traditional
methods.
I fell into the role ten years ago when Devin and I had been hot and
heavy…and I told him my secret. Both he and his superior, Detective Cass,
knew about me being a witch, but didn’t divulge any of the specifics to the
rest of the force. Still, they welcomed me into their precinct whenever they
needed a consult.
Usually, I was helpful.
All it took was a quick glance at the crime scene, and I could tell
whether there was magic or not. I could do the same with the suspects.
Were they magical or were they civilians? A slight shimmer to their skin
that only witches could see always gave them away.
“Can we go somewhere more private to talk?” Devin asked, nodding
towards Tabitha’s head hanging out the kitchen door. She was so into my
personal life, but I didn’t blame her. I was just as much wrapped up in hers.
It was nice to have someone—family—to discuss all my failed
relationships.
“You can have the office,” Tabitha said, sulking back to her giant
mixing bowl.
I led Devin back to Tabitha’s perfectly organized office and clicked
the door shut. It was like my sister picked everything up from a display at
IKEA. Actually, she did. She had black and white prints of ferns on her
walls which I loved for some unknown reason, a white desk, and a splash of
color from a few fake green plants. There wasn’t a single paper on her desk,
making it look like the office was all for show.
Maybe it was. She did do all her paperwork at home in the little
two-bedroom apartment we shared, after all.
I sat on the black wheelie chair behind her desk, and Devin pulled
up the black cushioned one that had been against the wall, opening a manila
envelope I hadn’t noticed him carrying. Where had my eyes been focused?
His pecs? His strong jawline? Those lose-yourself bedroom eyes? He did
that to me.
Too bad I didn’t do that to him.
Not anymore.
He dumped a pile of eight by ten-inch gruesome photos from the
envelope onto Tabitha’s desk. I cringed.
Devin brushed them into a pile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you.”
“I wasn’t expecting photos of a corpse.”
“They’re not all of a corpse.” He pushed about half-a-dozen photos
of a woman with dark hair aside until there were a few shots of various
other people that looked like they were stolen directly out of the DMV’s
records. He was the police. They probably were. The deep brown eyes of
one man stood out.
“Who’s he?” I asked. It was just odd. Among those specific half-a-
dozen photos was one of an exotic, sharp-looking man in a tuxedo. What an
odd way to take your driver’s license photo.
“That is Luke Shade. He’s been running Moonstruck Manor for his
aunt, Aubrey Dirksen, for about five years now.”
“The Bed & Breakfast where all the paranormals stay?”
Devin nodded.
“Didn’t someone die there a few weeks ago?” Then my eyes fixed
on the dark-haired woman in the multiple photos. “It wasn’t her.”
“No, it wasn’t. It was her.” Devin fanned out the photos to reveal
another woman with much lighter brown hair. “Her name was Saige
Oakley, but she wasn’t the first to die there. Six months ago, this other
woman, Melody Reid, passed away from what we thought was a rare
breathing problem.”
“And you’re here because you don’t think it’s a coincidence two
women have died at Moonstruck Manor?”
Devin tapped the photo of the brown-haired woman. “Not when
Saige died the exact same way—she just stopped breathing and fell over.
And on top of this, they both were hired as the bed and breakfast’s cook.”
I pulled the photos out that were not of dead people. “And are these
your suspects?”
“Some of them. These are the people who had been at Moonstruck
Manor when both women died. Luke Shade manages the place, as you
already know. He lives there on the top floor. Nik Gates is their
housekeeper.”
“Wait, their housekeeper is male?” I laughed. “I like that.”
Devin pulled out a few more photos, telling me everyone’s names
and how they were connected to Moonstruck Manor. There were too many
people for me to track.
“Are you going to give me CliffsNotes?” I laughed.
Devin shook his head. “You’ve never needed them before.”
True.
Devin continued, “I haven’t actually met any of these suspects yet,
since Detective Cass has been the primary investigator, but he called me in
to help him last week and we spent countless hours on the case. At this
point, all our leads have run cold…and…”
“And you believe magic was behind it.”
Devin nodded, and I saw the dark circles under his baby blues.
“Sure, I can help. I’m done here for the day, anyway. I can come
down and look through your evidence pile.”
Devin shook his head. “It’s more than that, Kyla. We’ve combed
through everything already. See, we have a new officer who’s like you.”
“You have a witch on payroll? Was he or she sent your way by the
paranormal police force?”
“No. Jake came to us on his own. I recognized a symbol on his ring
to match one I saw on that old book of spells you have. It’s my fault
Detective Cass and I know about him. Jake’s usually really good at these
things, but even though he examined all the evidence and met all the
suspects, he couldn’t find anything either. We don’t want to alert the