Ghost of a Potion (A Magic Potion Mystery, #3)

The Extravaganza was one of the preeminent annual events in the Enchanted Village, a themed neighborhood of Salem, Massachusetts. As a tourist destination, the village often drew large crowds to its events, which generally focused on a mystical element, thanks to its location and history.

Which was entirely appropriate, considering the village was full of witches, Crafters, who lived here secretly among mortals. We hid in plain sight working at businesses like the Gingerbread Shack bakery, the Bewitching Boutique, and of course here at As You Wish, the personal concierge service that I’d always believed to be owned by my aunt Ve. In reality, the business had once belonged to my late mother, who’d died when I was seven. A few weeks ago I’d learned that the company had actually been bequeathed to me, and had been held in a trust overseen by my aunt Ve until I was ready to take over.

As You Wish was mine.

That news had been shocking to say the least.

Since I’d found out, I had been easing myself into the daily running of As You Wish. Though Aunt Ve technically still worked for the business part-time, she was now busy doing her own thing as Village Council Chairwoman, a position that was similar to a mayoral role in the village.

As I spoke with Ivy, discussing her concerns that someone was cheating at the event, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the responsibility but tried not to show my apprehension.

“You’re in for such a treat,” Ivy said. “It’s so much fun. It’s not so much a competition as a festival of sorts.” Her eyes brightened with excitement.

The glimmer was a nice change from the rabid anxiety that had been present in her gaze.

The Pawsitively Enchanting Pet Extravaganza was one of the few celebrations in the village that truly had nothing to do with witchcraft. It was completely pet-centric. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t Craft involvement . . . I knew of at least one familiar entered in the contest.

She added, “Which is why I must ensure that its respectability doesn’t suffer. Nothing untoward must happen at this year’s event.”

And with those words the brightness in her eyes dimmed, and the obsessive angst returned.

I wished my friend Curecrafter Cherise Goodwin was here to deliver a calming spell. If a person was ever in need of Cherise’s magic, it was Ivy.

Truly, I wasn’t sure whether she had good reason to be worried about potential sabotage or not. Cheating was entirely possible, I supposed. Even though I’d never attended the Extravaganza, which was set to kick off tomorrow afternoon, I knew it wasn’t just a blockbuster event for the village—it was also one for its participants.

People took their pet pageantry very seriously.

So seriously, in fact, that the illustrious competition now drew contestants from across New England, even as far away as northern Maine. Driving six-plus hours to enter Fido in the Pooch-Smooch category boggled my mind, but there was no denying the Extravaganza’s charm. There was a wait list a mile long due to space limitations at the Will-o’-the-Wisp, the reception hall that hosted the contest. Entries had been capped at two hundred forty, twenty competitors per twelve categories. It seemed as though the more difficult it was to register a pet, the more desirable the event became.

It helped, too, that the Extravaganza wasn’t a prim and fussy pet competition. Nine years ago, Ivy had created it with the intent that it be lighthearted and fun. All household pets were allowed to enter including dogs, cats, hamsters, birds, ferrets, guinea pigs, and even turtles. If it lived inside a house, it was welcome.

Given all that, it didn’t seem so far-fetched to imagine someone going a little overboard to ensure a win for their pet. But to go so far as to hurt someone as Ivy suspected? That was taking overzealousness to a whole new level.

Ivy reached into her purse and pulled out an official-looking name badge, a frilly clip that had a laminated purple-printed number (240) attached, a folder of paperwork, and a fancy pen. “Here is everything you need, Darcy. The badge is secretly marked as all-access, which grants you the ability to roam around without being questioned. The paperwork includes the rules and regulations as well as a map of the booths and the facility. The clip attaches to Missy’s collar.”

I took it all from her outstretched hands. The badge read DARCY MERRIWEATHER, ENCHANTED VILLAGE. On the clip, beneath the purple 240, was my dog Missy’s name printed in a curlicue font along with the category in which she was entered: Easy on the Eyes.

The Extravaganza boasted twelve categories ranging from Splish Splash (swimwear) to Wag It (best tail), and the winner of each would be featured in the event’s highly sought-after calendar. From those twelve pets a grand-prize winner would be chosen to grace the coveted spot on the calendar’s cover. Landing the cover spot was quite the triumph.

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