• Home
  • Sarah Kelly
  • Dying to Make a Fortune: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 5)

Dying to Make a Fortune: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 5) Read online




  The India Kirby Witch Mystery: Book 5

  DYING TO MAKE A FORTUNE

  All rights reserved. Without limited the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission for the publication / use of these trademarks.

  Sign up our mailing list here and receive two complimentary eBook bonuses

  - Dead Girls’ Don’t Speak by Sarah Kelly

  - Breaking Girl Hearts by Ophelia Juliet

  Plus, be the first to receive The India Kirby Witch Mystery new book launches!

  Like us on Facebook and Twitter!

  Do you enjoy Dying to Make a Fortune? Tell us about it here.

  The India Kirby Witch Mystery Series

  Dying to be a Star

  Dying to be Married

  Dying to Break Free

  Dying for a Vacation

  Dying to Make a Fortune

  CHAPTER 1

  “Ahh, a Christmas Eve wedding,” Amy said dreamily, packing India’s woolen scarves and jumpers into the suitcase. “Such a whimsical idea.”

  India smiled as she knelt down and pulled out the drawers under the bed. She’d stuffed all her Wisconsin clothes in there, not sure she’d ever need them again. Visiting her hometown had been so far from her mind. “You know, I thought Christmas in Florida would be just fine, but I’ve got to admit, it’s better in Wisconsin.” She found a pair of thick woolly socks and tossed them into her case.

  “You’re right,” Amy said. “And all the things we used to complain about are what make it awesome. The endless snow. The freezing cold, because when you get inside it’s all the more relief, right? Having to bundle up in so many layers you’re waddling like a darn penguin.”

  India laughed. “All of that. And other things we took for granted. Like my mom’s hot apple juice with cloves and spice and cinnamon.”

  “Ugh, I’d forgotten about that,” Amy said. “I so have to rope your mom into doing some of that for the reception. Or I’ll get the recipe off her.”

  “Ooh yes.” India’s eyes lit up. “That would be perfect.” She continued to reminisce. “And all the lights up on the actual fir trees outside. Xavier was right, Christmas with palm trees just is not the same.”

  “I can’t argue with that.” Amy put her hands on her hips, looking at the wardrobe filled with strappy sundresses and denim jackets. “It looks like that’s all the winter stuff you have. Where’s your big coat? Your hat? All of that stuff?”

  “I chucked it out,” India said sheepishly. “You see how tiny this place is. It took up too much space.” India loved her three-room Key West style cottage with its pale yellow siding and old-style wooden front porch. So much so that Xavier would leave his apartment when they married and make it his home, too. The tiny size had forced her to adopt a minimalist approach, and a ruthless hand to chuck stuff in trash bags. “I’ll get a new coat tomorrow before we go to the airport. I still have to get a couple of Christmas presents.”

  Amy slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops.”

  India shook her head with a sigh of mock-exasperation. “Well, you don’t have to get me anything.

  “Ha!” Amy said, pressing down the woolly bulk in the suitcase to try flatten it. “You think that’s worth just a Christmas present? You owe me for life, girl.”

  India clicked her tongue, pretending to be annoyed. “You’re getting a big fat check. Don’t be so dramatic.”

  “What’s life without drama, huh?” Amy flopped back on the bed, her arms wide, staring up at the ceiling. “India, you’re going to have the best wedding ever, I just know it. Think layers of lasagna, and moist sticky chocolate cake, and cookies where the choc chips are still melting, and warm spiced wine…” She looked like she was drifting off into foodie heaven. “And mince pies with the most buttery pastry casing and rich filling, and date pudding with toffee sauce, and curried vegetable pie, and mushrooms. Ooh, and chocolate caramel pecan tart.”

  “Not all together, I hope,” India said with a grin.

  “When people look back on your wedding, the first thing I want them to remember is the food.”

  India burst out laughing. “As opposed to me and Xavier promising to spend the rest of our lives together? You know, like actually getting married?”

  Amy looked toward her from her upside down place on the bed. “Well, that’s the part where my best friend becomes a married woman, leaving me languishing behind in the torturous realms of dating and singledom.”

  That was about as close Amy got to expressing her emotions in public. India paused, rocking back on her knees. “Oh, you big goof,” she said affectionately. “You’re certainly not languishing. Last week you were telling me you didn’t want to settle down. You wanted to be free to flit wherever you wanted.”

  “I want both,” Amy groaned with dramatic flair. “A boyfriend and to be free. Is that too much to ask?”

  India went back to picking through the drawer, pushing old swimsuits from her lifeguard days to the side and searching for anything thick and warm. “You can’t have everything, Ames.”

  “Anyways, enough about me,” Amy said, rolling over onto her front, her eyes lighting up again. “What do you think about little Christmas shaped cookies, with icing sugar dusted on like snow?”

  “My grandma used to make those when I was a kid!” India said, warmed by the memory. “And she used to stick those edible silver balls on like baubles on the tree.”

  Amy already had her iPhone out. “That’s so getting added to the list.”

  “By the size of your list, we’re going to be eating wedding food for weeks.”

  “What do you expect? My best friend is getting married, so it has to be the best wedding ever. I’m doing the food, so I’ve gotta smash it out of the park. It’s going to be like… a banquet. Just you wait, girl.” Her eyes sparkled. “Just you wait.”

  ***

  “We finally meet!” the lady said, flinging her arms open like she’d known India and Xavier all her life.

  They’d just come in from the deep chill that sprung up from the thick layer of snow on the ground and nibbled at their faces until they felt numb. They stamped on the mat to get the rest of the snow off their faux fur-lined boots, and set their suitcases down so they could unwind the layers and layers of scarves. The bakery was so warm it almost stung their freezing faces. The delicious doughy smell had India’s stomach rumbling.

  “Sarah James, right?” India said, coming over to accept her hug.

  “That’s me.” She was out from behind the counter, having just placed two hot chocolates with huge mountain peaks of cream on the table in front of a slightly edgy looking young couple. Her cheeks were rosy with the heat inside, making her look all the more good natured. Then she pointed at each of them in turn, a big smile creeping over her friendly rounded face. “Xavier, and India.”

  “You got it,” Xavier said, shaking her hand and giving her a polite kiss on the cheek. “You know, my mom and sister are bakers, too.”

  “Is that so?” Sarah said. “Well, I hope you won’t hold m
e to too high standards. It’s just a modest little thing I have going here.”

  “Oh, not at all,” India said, peering into the glass display case at all the delicious looking pastries and treats. “It looks wonderful.”

  Sarah looked pleased, pushing wisps of her dark blonde hair that had escaped from her ponytail back into submission. She really had such a pleasant way about her, and her pale pink apron tied around her waist matched the color of the walls. It was like she was part of the place, warm and sweet and friendly. Strings of fairy lights twinkled all around, and India felt at home already. She reached out and squeezed Xavier’s hand, which was already warming up and felt delightfully comforting against her cold fingers.

  “So, do you want to go up to the room now, or you could have something to eat and drink first if you’d like?” Sarah asked.

  India and Xavier looked at each other.

  “I’m pretty hungry,” Xavier said. From the airport, they’d had to take a long detour as the taxi driver wended the snow strewn streets toward Amy’s childhood home, where she was staying with her parents. India had booked the two rooms above Sarah’s bakery on Airbnb to be closer to the church and to Elise Flores, their wedding planner. Besides, as much as she liked her parents, she found she got on better with them when they had their own space. The idea of them all trampling on each other for a few days wasn’t India’s idea of a peaceful pre-wedding experience.

  “I’m hungry, too,” India said. “And how could we possibly resist all these goodies?”

  Sarah smiled modestly as she returned behind the counter. “Oh, you’re both too kind. Now, take a look. These are all the sweet pastries, cakes, cookies, etcetera. But there’s also hot creamy carrot soup on the stove, and you could have some bread fresh out the oven with that?”

  “Sounds fantastic,” Xavier said.

  “What about two portions of soup and bread,” India suggested, “with a hot chocolate just like these lovely people over here.” She gestured toward them.

  “Oh, goodness,” Sarah said, all in a fluster. “How remiss of me. I should have introduced you all. But you see, you’re actually the first guests I’ve ever had on Airbnb, and I was so excited to meet you I guess I forgot myself. I mean, I’ve had plenty of visitors before, but none from this particular website. Ach, I’m rambling. Anyways, this—”

  “I’m Yasmin,” the young woman said coolly. She emanated calm confidence, and was so still it was almost unnerving. She had on a long black velvet dress, a leather jacket and leather boots. Her black hair was swept up into a bun on the top of her head, tied tightly and slicked with gel, and a pair of large sunglasses perched on her pale forehead. An elaborate gold horseshoe ring hung from her septum, catching the light as she tilted her head. Her eyes were a piercing blue.

  “Hi,” India said. “I’m India.”

  Before Xavier could introduce himself, Yasmin was already saying, “And this is my boyfriend, Raysh.”

  “I’m Xavier. India’s my… Well, I’m India’s…” He laughed at himself. “We’re engaged.” The boyfriend stared out the window, only casting occasional glances in their direction. “Raysh,” Xavier said, trying to engage him in conversation. “That’s an unusual name.”

  Yasmin took a deep breath in, and India could see she was already impatient with talking to them. “It’s Horatio, technically,” she said.

  Horatio continued to stare out the window with a dull look. He had sandy hair, the color of Sarah’s, straggling down past his shoulders in a half ponytail. His clothes were also all black, but he had none of the slick stylish sheen of Yasmin. And clearly none of the confidence, either.

  “Well, nice to meet you both,” India said to the back of his head.

  “Perhaps you’d like that table over there?” Sarah suggested, tactfully pointing to a table across the other side of the bakery. “Right near the window, so you can sip your hot chocolate and watch the world go by. Or at least Abingdon Fork. That sound nice?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Xavier said. “How could we say no to that?”

  Sarah laughed, embarrassed. “Yes, ma’am, indeed. You Southern men really are charming, huh?”

  Soon India and Xavier were sitting by the window, watching the snowflakes falling and landing softly on the road outside. Though the middle of the afternoon, it was already beginning to get dark, and Christmas lights strung up between the stores on either side of the street made their comforting flashing routine, making India feel warm inside. The carrot soup was hot and creamy and truly delicious, and the bread was so warm it made the butter melt into little golden pools.

  India breathed out a long satisfied sigh. Her feet were cozy, wrapped up in the fur of her boots, and the meal felt nourishing and comforting, like sitting in her grandma’s kitchen. “Isn’t this just perfect?”

  “I told you a cold Christmas was the best,” Xavier said with a teasing grin. “Ever since that huge snowfall when I was like eight, I think, I decided that. I always wished our town would get more snow but you know southern Mississippi already.” He looked up from his steaming hot chocolate with a playful look of victory on his face. “And you said no, no, you were happy on the beach in your bikini on Christmas day. But here we are, cozy as anything, wrapped up from the cold. And admit it, you love it.”

  “Well, mmmm to you,” India said, sticking out her tongue. She loved how much they could just be silly together. “And yes, I do love it. I used to hate it when I was younger, you know. But I guess being away in the heat has made me appreciate the cold, too.”

  “You never know what you’ve got till it’s gone, they always say,” Xavier said, picking up his spoon. “And I definitely feel the same about Mississippi. Not the weather, so much, but my family. My hometown. You know?”

  “I know,” India said, then laughed. “There are just too many places we love, huh? Like, we met in Florida and we’ve got the beach and the heat and our business, of course. Then there’s Mississippi, which I must say I totally fell in love with when we went to visit your family. Like I can see us with one of those old wooden farmhouses with a big wraparound porch, and having cookouts, and our little kids running about on the grass, you know?”

  “And what about Grenada?” Xavier said. “When we were there we had that dream of buying a little tiny house out there and growing all our food and being in all that green nature.”

  “Oh, it was so green,” India said. “So vivid. Like all the colors seem brighter out there.”

  “And last of all, here,” Xavier finished. “Beautiful, cold Wisconsin.”

  “It’s not cold in the summer.” India laughed. “Well, not always.”

  “There are just too many places we want to live,” Xavier said. “If it were just two places, you could say maybe have a vacation home in one place, or split our time or whatever. But Wisconsin, Florida, Mississippi, and Grenada? We can’t live in four places at once.”

  “Right,” India said, then lowered her voice. “Not even magic could make that happen.”

  A slow grin crept across Xavier’s face. “Wanna bet?”

  Even though it had been a whole year since she’d confided in Xavier about her burgeoning magic powers, there was still nothing she enjoyed more than hearing him delve into that world so eagerly. She had been terrified to tell him about it, as she had been forbidden to, but so desperately lonely. How could she hide such a big part of who she was from the man she adored? She had been desperate to tell him everything, and so had spilled the news, bracing for the worst. But none of her fears came true. He didn’t leave, thinking she was a crazy woman. Her powers didn’t evaporate into nothingness, either. Instead, her magical mentor Luis had appeared out of thin air in front of both of them a few days later, and to his credit, Xavier looked less rattled than India did. Ever since then he’d dug deep into magical research, trying to master magic powers himself, and learning everything he could. He still wasn’t as good as India – after all, she’d shed her Oblivious status many years before he had �
�� but he learned different spells. So they complemented each other rather well.

  Just then, Sarah bustled over to them, her hands behind her back. “Are you lovely people enjoying your food?”

  “Oh, yes,” India said. “It’s delicious. Isn’t it, Zave?”

  “Absolutely. I think we’ll have put on a good few pounds before we head home,” he said.

  India laughed. “I hope I can fit into my wedding gown!” She actually hadn’t seen it yet, as it had been delivered direct to her parents from the seamstress. She’d trawled the internet for hours and hours trying to find the perfect winter dress, and then sent her chosen picture and her measurements off to a Wisconsin woman her mother had recommended. She’d ended up surprising herself by picking a gown, a fur-lined cape and a hat instead of a veil, and the look was very much snow princess. She imagined it all hanging up in her parent’s living room like a fairytale on a hanger and couldn’t wait to see it.

  “Well, I hope you won’t mind too much, but I just wanted to give you these,” Sarah said. She took two saucers out from behind her back, a brownie on each. A sprig of holly made out of marzipan sat on the top. “My Christmas brownies. With nutmeg, cinnamon, orange, and of course, plenty of chocolate.”

  “Wow,” India said. “Thank you.”

  “I think you’ve won your way into her heart forever,” Xavier said to Sarah. “Chocolate’s her absolute favorite. She’ll finish hers and then be sneaking pieces of mine, just you wait.”

  “You both are just the nicest people,” Sarah said. “When you’re done I’ll show you up to your rooms. Yasmin and Horatio will watch the place for me.”

  “Thank you,” India said. “I feel like we’re at home already.”

  After they’d had their soup, bread, and brownies, Xavier and India followed Sarah up the stairway which was behind a door at the side of the bakery. They felt comfortable and happy, even though it was a bit of an effort to lug their cases stacked with winter gear up the narrow stairs.