Cozy Mystery: Cake Spell Disaster (A Haven Witch Woman Sleuths Book) COMPLETED

ELEVEN

Sweetland Cove wasn't a far drive—with only three hundred square miles, nothing on Heavenly Haven was ever far. But it was still about two hours to the center of town. I packed a few snacks and set off early in the morning.

Grayson and Lincoln had both texted me last night. Grayson demanded an apology from me. Lincoln offered his apology to me. I was not prepared to talk to either of them at the moment. And as far as Grayson went, I rather thought he should be the one apologizing.

The drive to Sweetland Cove was pleasant. Palm trees lined the road in, but so did more exotic plants and trees that had no natural place on an island like this. Giant cherry trees mixed with the palms. They'd been planted by witches who came to the island over four hundred years ago and had grown into breathtaking pink and red landscapes.

Blue and orange bushes fitted themselves into the island's background like they'd been painted there, and all around were fruit trees. Anyone could walk up to the tree of their choice and take the lemons, limes, and apples free of charge. They were there for all to enjoy, maintained by Heavenly Haven's Witch's Council.

The town of Sweetland itself was cute. It had that quaint feeling that all small towns had. Brick buildings stood beside wooden walkways and long piers reached miles out into the sea. It wasn't as nice as Mistmoor Point, but I had to admit it was beautiful.

When I got to Sweetland, I parked at the curb in front of Coffee Cove. The handful of times I'd been to Sweetland, I'd made a point of stopping here. They were reputed to have the best coffee in all of Heavenly Haven. They were good, but I didn't think they beat Mistmoor Mud's café lattes.

I garnered a few looks as I walked into the coffee shop. Mostly from wizards who knew I was from the other side of the island. In such a small town, you knew everyone who lived near you. Outsiders weren't always unwelcome, but that didn't mean they were wanted either.

"May I help you?" the girl behind the counter asked. She had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Her nametag read Megan.

"Yeah, I'll take a tall mocha latte, please."

"Okay, and your name?" Megan asked. Her smile was flawless. She was all of eighteen and seemed like the cheerleader type. I bet she knew everyone in town.

"Felicity."

She wrote it on the side of the cup and rang me up.

"Say, maybe you can help me," I said, hoping I sounded casual. "I was supposed to let my friend know when I got here, but I forgot my phone at home and don't have his number with me. Do you know Damon Tellinger?"

Megan glanced suspiciously up at me.

"You're a friend of Damon's?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yeah. If you've got his number, I'd really appreciate it if you could help me out and let me have it."

"If you want Damon's number," Megan said. "Then I suggest you ask him yourself."

She glanced pointedly behind me, and I turned to see a man with long dark hair and light brown eyes standing there. He was six feet tall and S.H.—strictly human.

"You looking for me?" His voice was a deep growl. He couldn't have been more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

"Um," I said, feeling like an idiot. "Are you Damon Tellinger?"

"You're my friend. You ought to know me when you see me." He grinned at me, showing too many teeth.

"I, uh..." I wasn't expecting to find Damon so soon or so easily. "Sorry," I said. "About lying like that. I was just... I think you know my brother."