Mrs. Morris and the Witch

end here, Jack, and he thought it amusing to try to trip her up. After leaving her suite of rooms with Jack right behind her, Charlene entered the kitchen. Minnie, her housekeeper and cook, opened the oven to release the scent of cinnamon, spice, and everything nice. Smells great. You need any help? I've got it all under control. Minnie's full face was flushed, and she mopped perspiration off her brow with a paper towel before taking a sip of water from a ceramic mug. Gray curls, quick to laugh, Minnie Johnson and her husband, Will, his dour face and lean body, the complete opposite of his cheery wife's, had been her first real hires, and both priceless. Will has the wine and champagne chilling on ice, iced tea and lemonade in the fridge. I'll make fresh coffee. Perfect. We don't have a lot of time, as Kevin will be here between five and five-thirty. Charlene snagged a cookie from the tray. The kids will love the ghost-shaped cookies with the gooey witch hats. Minnie had formed chocolate cake mix and pudding into a cone set with orange icing. The Jensens, Ted and Catherine, had arrived from England for Halloween because their son Peter had studied the witch trials in school. Their precocious daughter, Hayley, was very much about dressing up in costume. Charlene adored having children in the house, as she and Jared hadn't been fortunate enough to have their own. It remained her greatest regret. You bet they will, Minnie set her mug down with a clatter. Is that concern on your face? I don't want anything to go wrong. She and Minnie exchanged a look, but neither woman brought up the last party, which had ended in disaster. Jack's murderer had held a knife to Minnie's throat, right where they were standing. Everything will work out, Minnie harrumphed, her big bosom lifting and falling with her exaggerated sigh. The guests will mingle and have some cheer before the big night you've planned for them. Charlene hadn't done much. I can't believe how this place goes wild for Halloween. All weekend there's been the psychic fair and witch festival. Yesterday was a parade. Tonight is the witch ball at the Hawthorne Hotel. Will and I have gone to that ball a few times, Minnie said, placing cookies on trays. There's a prize for best costume. You should go at least once to check it out. Maybe next year. Charlene adjusted a loop on her Halloween scarf and peered out the kitchen window at the yard beyond. Even at dusk, it was a gorgeous piece of property, with a lawn in the front and around the side leading to a screened porch and private garden in back. The mansion had seven bedrooms on two floors, four double rooms and three single, her suite behind the kitchen on the main level and an ornate wine cellar below. She'd spent the past few months selecting furnishings for each room, buying from estate sales, combing through antique shops and bargain hunting online. Now she just had to keep her beautiful home and business filled with happy guests to satisfy the bankers and stay out of the poorhouse. Minnie gave her a sly look. Martin was extremely nice to offer this tour tonight, being Halloween and all. Kevin Hughes was a bartender at a popular bar in town, Brews and Broomsticks. Sandy blonde, mid-thirties and a Salem native, the part-time tour guide was also single. I got lucky there. Kevin knows so much about the rich history of this place, really fascinating stuff that doesn't make the books. Well, he's a fine gentleman and must have taken a liking to you, Minnie said with a wink. It's not that, Charlene hurriedly explained, glancing around guiltily for Jack, who had a jealous streak. Kevin feels protective after what happened at last week's party. He'd played the bartender role to keep her guests preoccupied as the police arrested Jack Strathmore's killer. Had it been only a week ago? She felt a chill beside her. I'm glad he's watching out for you, Jack's husky voice whispered in her ear, but is it more than that, Charlene? Since she couldn't tell him to scoot, she used her hip to get Jack to move. She gave him a reproving look, which was answered by his sardonic smile, handsome devil.