The next morning, I'd decided I would go to The Golden Goose as soon as I'd had my coffee. I'd slept badly during the night. So badly, in fact, that I'd dipped into my mother's Fluffernutter tea. It had put me out like a light in a matter of seconds.
There was still something about the Fluffernutter in the baked goods that bothered me.
I dialed Doctor Wallace as I put on my coffee. It rang three times before he answered.
"Doctor Wallace here."
"Hello, Doctor, it's Felicity Redfern."
"Felicity," he said. "How are you, my dear?"
"I've been better," I replied as honestly as possible without getting into it. I could almost hear him nodding sympathetically over the phone.
"Listen, Dr. Wallace, I was calling because there's been something bothering me about the Fluffernutter you found in my mother's pastries."
"Yes?" he asked. I was grateful he was willing to listen to my questions.
"Well, Fluffernutter root is a sleep aid. It doesn't generally make people sick. It can explain the coma my mother and Mayor Singer fell into, but it doesn't explain the green slime they both coughed up."
"That's true," he said carefully. "I had the same thoughts. That's why I've actually been conferring with a witch regarding some of the magical elements of the case."
"You have?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes. I recognize that I'm no expert in magic. I've learned a lot living on Heavenly Haven, but I'm still learning new things every day. For example, did you know that the Wildebeest Mushroom can actually turn a person into a wildebeest when mixed with maple syrup?" He sounded more excited than alarmed by this information.
I tried not to laugh. Every witch and warlock in first grade knew that. Sometimes, I forgot just how human Doctor Wallace was. When he'd first taken his position at Mistmoor Hospital, there had been a paranormals town meeting to discuss whether or not he should be informed of the different types of people he might encounter in his work.
It had been decided that, for the safety of the wizarding community, as well as the odd shapeshifter and fairy who sometimes made an appearance on the island, he had to be told the truth. Though witches and humans weren't so different anatomy wise, there was a wide disparity between illnesses that humans and witches might suffer from. No human had ever gone to the hospital suffering from a hammerhead hex. How was Dr. Wallace going to know how to treat them if he didn't even know that witches and warlocks were real?
"So, what do you think? Is there more to this than just Fluffernutter root?"
Dr. Wallace hesitated and I got a sneaking suspicion I knew why.
"Did Lincoln ask you not to talk to me?"
"No, nothing like that. He just... encouraged me not to lead you on about the case. He's just worried about you, Felicity. He doesn't want to see you upset."
"Humph."
"But I don't think I'm violating any oaths if tell you that it's likely the Fluffernutter root was mixed with something that, when combined, created a toxic poison."
"So then whoever mixed them might not have even realized they were creating anything poisonous."
"It's possible. This may have been a simple case of misidentification. According to Amanda Hollyberry, the simplest addition of basil or thugwort could have resulted in a catastrophic reaction."
"Thank you, Doctor Wallace," I said, hanging up.
My head was spinning on the way to see Grayson. My conversation with Dr. Wallace had done nothing to help my headache.
When I pulled up to The Golden Goose, Grayson was pacing the path outside. I looked for his car to park next to but didn't see it anywhere, so I just picked a spot and got out.
"Hey," I said.
He jumped a foot in the air.
"Don't sneak up on a person like that!" he hollered.
I paused. Grayson never yelled at me.
"I didn't sneak up on you," I told him. "I just walked up the path. What are you doing out here anyway? I figured you'd be inside, checking the tables for gum and the waiters for excessive drool, or whatever it is you do here."
I was trying to keep things light, but Grayson didn't even crack a smile.
"Have you been to see Mom?" I asked.
He nodded. "This morning. She had more color in her cheeks."
"Sunny says she'll wake up any day now."
Grayson chuckled. "Sunny's a know-it-all."
"Yeah, but he's right most of the time."
We stood awkwardly outside the doors to his restaurant. "Well, I'm going in," I told him. "You coming?"
He sighed and followed me inside. I inhaled sharply when I saw the dining room. It was empty. Not one person was here. I knew it was still early, but Grayson usually had a pretty good breakfast crowd. I looked at him and realized how sallow his cheeks looked.
"I know," he said as he slipped into a booth. "We're cursed."
I sat across from him. My eyes widened. "Cursed? What do you mean? Who cursed you?"
Grayson waved his hand through the air, indicating the restaurant.
"Whoever decided to ruin the mayor's party and kill Norbert Clark. The Golden Goose has gone from party central to crime central. "
I felt bad for my brother. This restaurant was his dream.
"But otherwise, business has been good, right?"
He looked at me oddly.
"I mean, until now you weren't having any, um, business... problems. Were you?"
I felt like a little kid again. Questioning my big brother was harder than I'd realized it would be.
"Sure," he said. "Business is great. Normally. Why?"
"No reason," I said.
My heart thumped in my chest. I had to stop being a baby and just spit it out.
"I might've heard something," I finally told him. "About the restaurant. And... a human."
Grayson's face turned to stone. He sat still and said nothing.
"A man named Damon Tellinger?" I prompted, hoping the man's name would get a reaction. It did, but not the one I expected. Then again, did I even know what I'd expected? I'd hoped that Grayson would tell me he'd never heard of anyone by that name. Instead, he confirmed my worst fears.
"What about him?" Grayson asked.
My jaw dropped. "So you know him?"
"Yes. What of it? I often have dealings with people in Sweetland Cove. Damon is no different."
Sweetland Cove?
Why was Grayson doing business with someone in Sweetland Cove?
"Do you owe him money?" I asked. My throat was dry. "This doesn't have anything to do with Mom, does it?"
Grayson's face darkened. "I can't believe you," he snarled.
"What?" I asked as Grayson rose from the table. I followed after him, pulling on his arm as he tried to go into the kitchen. The few waiters who were there watched us with interest.
"What's going on?" I demanded, wishing I'd made some more Deception Detector before coming down here.
"Why are you asking me all this, Felicity?" Grayson yelled. "Do you really think I had something to do with poisoning Mom's catering job? What could I possibly have to gain from that?"
I didn't want to answer that question. The truth was, I could think of a couple things. If anything happened to Mom, Cakes and Creations would go to Grayson. He was the oldest, and he had experience running a food establishment. And if he really owed money to someone... my mom's Oven-Hot recipe was a goldmine. There were any number of people on the island who would pay handsomely to get it.
"Just tell me the truth," I said, stepping as close to my brother as I dared. I could see he was mad, and I was only egging him on at this point. "Is it possible that this man, Damon, had anything to do with what happened to Mom?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" he shouted.
"Answer my question!"
"I already have!"
"Whoa!" a voice called out from behind us. We turned to see Lincoln walking toward us. We hadn't even noticed him come in. "What's going on here?"
"Nothing," I said. "I'm done here."
"That's right, we are," Grayson said. The wait staff had all retreated to the back when we started yelling at each other. "And don't come back here till you get your head on straight. I can't believe you would ever think I'd do something to hurt Mom."
Lincoln turned to me. "Are you accusing Grayson of tampering with your mother's cakes now? First Edith, now your own brother? I already told you to stop investigating. I'm handling it."
"If that were true," I snapped, "then I wouldn't be here, would I? Your problem is that you think you're so good at your job there's no way you could be wrong. So what happens when the day comes that you are wrong? By the time you realize it, it'll be too late." I left the restaurant with Lincoln's mouth hanging open behind me. I didn't need him or Grayson to solve this case. I was going to clear my mother's name if it killed me.
* * *