“I’m going to have to get meaner. That Hickman boy’s a tough nut. The other three’ll fold fast enough, but he’ll take some more persuading.” Zack swung an arm around Ripley’s shoulder. “So, are you going into the café for some lunch?”

“I might be. Why?”

“I thought you could do me a little favor, since you love me and everything.”

The long whip of her ponytail bobbed as she turned her head to look up at him. “If you want me to talk Nell into dating you, just forget it.”

“I can get my own dates, thanks.”

“Batting zero so far.”

“I’m still on deck,” he countered. “What I was hoping is that you’d tell Mia we’re handling the lobster boys, and not to . . . do anything.”

“What do you mean, ‘do anything’? What does she have to do with it?” Ripley stopped, her temper flaring. “Damn it.”

“Don’t get riled. It’s just that Carl said he’d talked to her. I’d just as soon it not get around that our resident witch is cooking up a spell. Or whatever.”

To keep Ripley in check, Zack tightened his grip on her shoulders. “I’d go in myself and have a word with her, but the lobster boys should be coming along in a few minutes. I want to be standing here, looking smug and authoritative.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“You play nice, Rip. And remember it was Carl who went to her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She shook off his arm and marched across the street.

Witches and spells. It was all a bunch of nonsense, idiotic hooey, she thought as she breezed down the sidewalk. A man like Carl Macey ought to know better. Stirring up a bunch of silliness. It was all right for the tourists to buy all the Three Sisters lore—it was one of the things that brought them over from the mainland. But it burned her butt when it was one of her own.

And Mia encouraged it, too. Just by being Mia.

Ripley swung into Café Book and scowled over at Lulu, who was ringing up a customer. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs. Pretty busy today.”

“Yeah, she’s a busy little bee,” Ripley muttered and headed up.

She spotted Mia with a customer in the cookbook section. Ripley bared her teeth. Mia fluttered her lashes. Simmering with impatience, Ripley strode into the café, waited her turn, then snapped out an order for coffee.

“No lunch today?” Flushed with the bustle of the noon crowd, Nell poured out from a fresh pot.

“Lost my appetite.”

“That’s too bad.” Mia cooed from behind Ripley. “The lobster salad’s particularly good today.”

Ripley merely jerked a thumb, then marched behind the counter and into the kitchen. She jammed her hands on her hips when Mia strolled in after her.

“Zack and I are handling the problem. I want you to stay out of it.”