Back when we were all going to be rich, famous, and glamorous, living lives of art salons and champagne, making a permanent mark on the world with what we created.

  But reality intruded, showing us that dreams were luxuries and rarely came true and if they did, they weren't what we imagined. Little by little, we each let go of our desires until I barely recognized the hopeful and starry-eyed girls we used to be.

  April rarely painted anymore, deciding a husband with a pile of money was the better option. Belle's illness made it hard for her to spend a lot of time playing music. Mauve decided to be a drama teacher instead of becoming an actress like she wanted. And me? I'd run away to New York and decided to base my writing on what the market wanted, not necessarily what I wanted.

  I had no real regrets and I loved what I had been writing, but I was living a much different life than what I once planned.

  Seeing all this made me a little sad, but it also made me proud. Maybe we weren't who we thought we'd be when we were children, but other than April, we were all at least still involved in what we'd always loved and had found success or joy with it.

  "It's like a time capsule." Belle fingered her old sheet music with awe.

  "It really is. How long has it been since you wrote your own original music?"

  "Too long."

  "Maybe you should take that sheet music with you for inspiration." I nudged her.

  "I think I will. But we're supposed to be finding your old story about a magic inkwell."

  I was still really struggling with remembering anything about that story.

  "Right. Let's see what we've got so far." I flipped through the brittle pages stained with what looked like old jam and tea, my two favorite treats while I wrote when I was younger.

  Jam sandwiches and tea was still one of my favorite treats while I work.

  That sounded delicious.

  "Well, this one seems to be about some kind of love letter or something. Not what we're looking for." I had no memory of writing it, only the slightest hint of familiarity.

  I'd written so many stories over the years, it was impossible to remember them all.

  "This isn't the one either." Belle set another aside.

  "I guess we could pack all of them up and take them back with us. We have to meet Jules soon."

  "We could, but what if this isn't the only box like this?" Belle asked.

  "It's funny that you remember this story better than I do."

  "If I'm remembering right, you read it to me one night when I was really bad off and hurting. Your story took my mind off the pain. You always told me stories to help me keep my mind off the pain. And I still read your books on my bad nights, so even though you're gone, you're still helping me."

  Some of the guilt in my stomach faded away at her words. "I'm glad to hear it, but I should still be here more."

  "You act like you aren't doing plenty for this family. You're sending money home, you check in multiple times a week, you've offered April a free ride to art school. Me too, if I had any interest.”

  "Yeah, but I can do all that here." It was all easy and mostly throwing money at the problem.

  "Maybe. But you made a lot of important contacts by moving there. Your agent and editor are both there. It's not like you chose New York on a whim."

  "True, but the city isn't that far. I can easily make the trip if I need to see them. Plenty of authors never meet their editors or agents in person and things work out just fine."

  "This is it. Definitely." Belle waved the papers she'd been reading in my face. "It's incredible. Most of the magic in your story came true."

  "Let me see." I snatched the papers from her and read through my words from fifteen years ago.

  The writing made me wince, but I saw what Belle was talking about. Everything, the ink pot, the hair, the dog. Everything we'd tried, I'd once written about. There were a few things that still hadn't come true in the story, like flying and something about finding lost things. The story itself is about a girl named Jo was completely different, but the magic part was completely on point.

  "Even the way I described the inkwell, while cringe-worthy, is exactly like the one you and Jules found. So weird."

  "What do you think this means?" Belle asked.

  "I have no idea."

  Magic. Maybe it was unexplainable.

  "What if your other stories start coming true?"

  Horror filled me and widened my eyes. “That would be a nightmare since I don't exactly write little cozy, happy stories."

  Belle winced. “Yeah. We might start seeing more dead bodies if that's the case."

  "I'm starting to rethink my role in Sally's death."

  I really hoped I didn’t kill her. I needed to solve her murder even more now and hopefully get both Jules and me off the hook.

  "You've never written anything about a death at a wedding. And you've never based any of your characters on Sally. That little excerpt from your journal I really don't believe counts. Especially since it doesn’t match up with anything in this story like it everything else does."

  "I guess." I hoped she was right.

  "We should take all these old stories and see what else you've written and maybe try some of that out with the inkwell."

  "I definitely want to try flying."

  Belle laughed. “Of course you do. Though you should probably wait for Jules on that one. He'll be mad if he misses out."

  "Yeah he will."

  I stroked the edges of one of April’s paintings. It was a splash of vibrant colors, even after all these years, back when she was in her abstract stage. Even though she found her lane with impressionism, which I preferred, I could still see the raw talent in these early works of hers.

  Maybe she needed to remember just like I did.

  While Belle gathered up all my scribbles and her sheet music, I gathered April’s art. We returned to the main part of the house with our arms full. I'd tell Mauve about her old playbills and photos of her favorite actors to see if she wanted them later.

  April’s eyes widened when we trooped into the kitchen and I laid her paintings out in front of her on the table. "What is this?"

  "We found your old artwork when we were looking for my old stories. They were in the same trunk."

  Her lips curled as she stared down at them. “Wow. I was awful."

  I bit back a sigh. “It wasn't your best period, but you were so young when you did these and they're still leagues better than anything I could paint. The stuff I used to write was a little painful for me to read, but it was still fun to see. I thought you might want to do something with these."

  April shoved them across the table away from her. “You can trash them. I don't need to be reminded of what a child I was."

  "What? No. What is wrong with you? You had such talent. You still do." I wanted to strangle her.

  "Not enough, okay? And I don't need these hanging around in my face like a constant bad memory."

  I held my hands up in surrender. “All right. I'll get rid of them.”

  “Good. Now, what did you want from me?”

  "Right. I wanted to get your thoughts on Sally Gardiner."

  Chapter Fourteen

  April chuckled. “Oh, I have plenty of thoughts about her."

  "I mean, more specifically, who might have wanted her dead."

  Belle left us alone to talk as she packed up all the papers we gathered and busied herself around the house.

  "The list of who wouldn't would be shorter. You know her. You know what she's like. She hasn't changed much since high school."

  "You can't be more specific than that? Who was in her immediate circle who she might have upset lately. Focusing on those who were actually at the wedding."

  "How much time do you have?" April asked.

  I checked the time. “Not much, so short version, please."

  "Well, Sally was obsessed with Jules. She's been chasing after him for ten years or more and it's gotten worse lately. She's determined to get him to give up his musician dreams and his job at the school so all that work she'd put in wasn't wasted. Not that I don't see her point there. Giving up the family fortune is the dumbest decision Jules has ever made. But anyway. While all Sally's attention is on Jules, all Fred Vaughn's attention is on her. He's been in love with her longer than Sally's had her eye on Jules. It's getting a little creepy at this point. His sister hated Sally and especially hated how she'd string her brother along."

  "Kate? The deputy?" I think I remembered her brother, but not well.

  April nodded. ”Yeah. She and Sally have gotten into it a few times. Sally liked the attention though, even if she had no plans to ever settle for Fred. Maybe as a last resort, but she'd go through every other eligible guy here first. Not that I blame her. Fred has always been a bit on the weird side."

  "Uh, haven't you sort of been doing the same thing? Dating the richest men in town?" I was annoyed with how she made Sally sound like a gold digger when April was no different.

  "I can't help I have expensive taste in men. And I don't string anyone along. And I definitely don't chase. That's just desperate."

  "Right." I had no idea where April came from.

  Where her ideas of love and marriage came from.

  Well, actually, I did. She'd watched money and the lack of it wear our parents down to the bone. Especially our mother.

  April groaned. ”Anyway, don't even get me started on Lee Seasons. He's Sally's ex and they had a massive ugly breakup a few months ago."

  "Lee? I thought she was after Jules?"

  "She was, but she took a break from that to try out Lee. When that blew up, she was right back to nipping at Jules' heels. But I think it was Annie Moffat."

  "Why?" I asked.

  I could see Annie doing it. She and Sally were certainly cut from the same cloth and they were not friends. At all. They didn’t even pretend to be like they did with others in their circles.

  "The two of them are always fighting like cats and dogs, always competing. You should see when one of them goes on some new fad diet, the other does too. If one of them gets a designer dress or purse, the other one has to get something better. Then Mauve chose Sally instead of Annie to be her last bridesmaid since she needed one more. Annie has been pretty vocal over the situation. It wouldn't surprise me if Sally was rubbing her nose in it at the wedding, and Annie just lost it on her."

  "I guess that isn't the craziest theory.”

  April shrugged. “It makes the most sense. A lot more than Jules killing her. Not that I would've blamed him for losing it on her, but how ridiculous is the Sheriff for going after Jules like that?”

  "Yeah. It's incredibly stupid." I understood it up to an extent, but not just because he found the body.

  April played with the edge of her coffee mug. “That's it, really. Those are the main ones and they were all at the wedding."

  "It's a good enough place to start. I might talk to Vanessa and see what she might've noticed during all the wedding preparations."

  April laughed. “Vanessa won't be much help. She can't stand Sally either. Sally was always awful to her."

  "So she could've killed Sally too?"

  Was Vanessa another suspect? I mean, maybe. There were a lot of them though. I just needed to narrow it down to the people most likely and I was leaning towards Lee.

  Ugly breakup? They often ended in violence.

  April shook her head. ”No. Vanessa is way too sweet and pathetic to ever do anything like that. Besides, planning Mauve's wedding was a big deal for her and her business. No way would she have messed things up by killing Sally."

  True.

  "Yeah. She's also the one who sent Jules into the freezer in the first place. If she was trying to hide Sally until later, that would've been a foolish move."

  Belle came back inside the kitchen. “We need to go or we'll be late to meet Jules."

  "Right. Well, thanks, April. This is definitely helpful."

  "I don't know why you're doing the Sheriff's job, but you do know you're not a cop, right?"

  No, I had no idea.

  Good grief.

  "I'm well aware. I'm also aware I write fictional mysteries, not real ones. But Markle is a moron and Jules is going to end up in trouble for this. Word is already spreading around town about it, people are ready to play judge and jury. Even if Markle can never find any evidence to arrest him on, if the real killer isn't found, it could ruin his reputation completely. When people work with kids, bad reputations can cost them jobs."

  "Well, good luck figuring it out." She hopped down from her seat and sauntered away with swinging hips.

  "Thanks for your help."

  Time for us to go see about our magical mystery and see if the antique shop has some answers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jules was already waiting outside the shop when Belle and I arrived. “Why is Jules just standing outside the shop?"

  "I don't know."

  Jules waved at us. "Hey guys. Shop's closed for the rest of the week apparently."

  "Do I write too many mysteries, or is that incredibly suspicious timing?"

  The day after my magic hits, the store it came from is closed for days? Super creepy.

  "It's probably a coincidence, but it's definitely weird." Jules glanced back at the shadowy shop.

  It even looked a bit sinister from out here.

  "Thanks for waiting. Though you could've just messaged."

  Jules grinned. “I figured I could take you two out for lunch."

  "It's already your turn to make dinner."

  His grin widened. “I don't mind doing both. Though I guess since Belle cooked last night and I'm cooking tonight, maybe you should treat us to lunch."

  "Deal. But if I'm buying, I get to pick the place." I started walking in the direction of the food I wanted.

  Jules and Beth both groaned in unison.

  I stopped and turned to frown at them. “What?"

  "You want the fancy, overpriced sandwiches again, don't you?" Jules asked.

  "Actually, no. I'm in the mood for Mexican." I started walking again, shaking my head.

  I loved the sandwich shop, they just didn’t know good food when they tasted it.

  Jules slumped. “Thank goodness. I hate those sandwiches. I can taste the pretentiousness."

  "They're not pretentious. They're just unusual."

  "Pomegranate and blue cheese paninis are not unusual, they taste like gross gym socks someone tried to spray with perfume to hide the stink."

  I glared at him. “Usually you like going on adventures."

  "Not food adventures. When it comes to food, I prefer more normal fare."

  "Are you about to go on a rant about hipsters, grandpa?"

  "I might. Though they make decent coffee."

  I snorted. "You're ridiculous."

  "Enough about hipsters and gross food, how did it go at the house this morning?"

  Belle handed Jules the story. "See for yourself. It's amazing."

  “And creepy." I was trying not to think too hard about it, worried I’d come up with some horrible and terrifying reasoning for my new and not that awesome magic.

  "It's magical. Literally."

  Jules flipped through, skimming the story. “She's right. This is insane. And definitely magical. I don't think you ever shared this story with me."

  "I'm remembering more of it now and I think it's a story I made just for Belle."

  It was a time she and I both desperately needed to believe in magic and hope and something other than the drudgery of her illness.

  I shrugged off those memories, trying to remain in the present. “Since we aren't getting any answers right now from the antique shop, let's put aside the mystery magic for now and focus on your problem. We got some interesting information from April that at least gives us a place to start."

  "And where are we starting?" Jules asked.

  "At the Mexican restaurant. I checked social media and Vanessa planned to come here for lunch. I thought she might want to join us."

  Jules shot me an impressed smile. “Look at you being sneaky. Almost like you were meant for this sleuthing business."

  "Yeah well, it's a one-time thing. Unless I have more friends and family accused of murder with only a bungling sheriff in charge of the investigation, I'm going back to my day job."

  Which I was behind on with all the festivities and then murder and then magic.

  We reached the restaurant and Jules barely looked up from my old story as Belle and I arranged seating and ordered drinks.

  Jules finally put the papers down and shook his head in bemusement. ”It sounds like something straight out of an actual novel. At least you can possibly use this whole experience as fodder for a future book."

  "Maybe. This whole thing is making me rethink the way I write the investigations in my books. Mine are usually a lot more fast-paced and dangerous. But investigating is apparently a bit slow and boring. A lot of talking to people you really don't want to talk to."

  Jules patted my shoulder. ”I’m really sorry you had to talk to April. I know how often you leave every conversation frustrated."

  "And today was no different. But she was helpful this time at least."

  Maybe nothing would come of the information she got us, but at least it was a start.

  The waiter returned with our drinks and we ordered our lunch while I stared at the door, waiting for Vanessa to walk through it.

  "There she is." Jules spotted her before I did.

  I waved to catch her attention. “Hey, Vanessa."

  Vanessa waved back and walked over to our table. “Oh hi guys. Here for lunch?"

  "Yeah. Want to join us?" I gestured to the empty seat next to Belle.

  Vanessa looked shocked, but nodded. ”Oh. Sure."

  "How are you doing? After well...the other night."

  She looked pale and shaky and like she hadn’t slept since the wedding.

  "I'm doing okay, I guess. Still a little shaken up. How about you guys?"

  I shrugged. “Same as you."

  "How's Mauve?” Vanessa asked. “I’ve tried to call her, but I didn't get an answer."

  "She's taking it pretty hard and is still dealing with thank you notes, phone calls, and plans. And she's helping Sally's family with the funeral."