THE WITCH WHO SAVED THE BAY
PIXIE POINT BAY BOOK 6
EMMA BELMONT
CONTENTS
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Sneak Peek
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1
Maris Seaver lifted her sign as high as she could. “Go away, not this bay!” she chanted, along with the rest of the crowd. “Go away, not this bay!”
Although the weather at the Pixie Point Bay Pier was as clear and temperate as ever, the mood of the protestors was decidedly foul. No fishermen dropped their lines into the pristine waters, and no one was perusing the catch of the day. Instead the long wharf was filled with the townspeople of Pixie Point Bay. As Maris started her second loop, she neared the reason for the protest: the two representatives of North American Petroleum.
The oil company had long made known its desire to place an oil derrick in the bay. Maris could remember Aunt Glenda and Cookie talking about it at mealtime when she was a child. It seemed inconceivable to her that anyone would want to mar the beauty of such a picturesque scene. But it wasn’t the drilling platform itself that had bothered Glenda, it was the possibility of an oil spill.
Imagine all the marine life gone, she’d said. If it goes, we go.
Her somber and worried tone had stuck with Maris all these years because, in the end, her aunt had been right. The longer that Maris lived here, the more she understood just how intertwined their lives were with the bay: from the fresh seafood for which the area was known, to the fishing economy, not to mention the tourism and visiting ships. Without all those boats, would there even be reason for a lighthouse?
Even if there’s never a spill, Cookie had said, it’d be ugly. Can you imagine waking up to that every morning in your backyard?
The longtime chef of the B&B had nailed it. Maris couldn’t imagine it—or wouldn’t.
“Please everyone,” Audrey Graisser said through her megaphone. “Please, just let us have our say. This is a discussion, not a war.”
In her mid-twenties, Audrey carried herself well. She wore her coppery red hair long, and her bright blue eyes always seemed to smile. She was dressed in a well-fitting gray business suit with a short skirt that showed off her pretty legs and figure. Though she seemed young for such a weighty job, Maris guessed she hadn’t been picked for her vast experience. Her upbeat attitude and fresh face were completely winning. Despite understanding how cynical NAP had been when choosing her as a representative, Maris couldn’t help but like her.
Though Audrey’s companion was twice her age, he was equally charming. Joseph Toler, Esq., was no doubt on hand to make sure everything was done in compliance with regulations. He seemed to be able to recite them chapter and verse. His brunette hair was trimmed short and graying only at the sideburns. He smiled as much as Audrey, even surrounded by protestors, though his sea green eyes were alert. Like her, he was in business attire, but casual and without a tie.
He waved a hand above his head. “Please everyone,” he shouted, “we’d just like to report on the EIR.”
The environmental impact report, Maris thought. Everyone in town now knew what EIR meant. Audrey and Joseph had been here for a few days already, canvasing the businesses door-to-door, and trying to drum up support. Judging by today’s rally, they’d had little success.
“Pipe down,” a familiar voice called out. “Pipe down.”
Maris turned to see Slick standing on top of a wooden fish crate. The salty old seaman was waving his yellow slicker’s hat. Despite the circumstances, she had to smile. Slick was a fixture on the pier. Day in and day out for decades, he kept the town supplied with the freshest and most varied seafood in this part of the world. As far as Maris was concerned, his long gray beard and leathery face only added to his charm. He’d been involved with her aunt, and now the two of them looked out for one another.
All around her his call for quiet was echoed. A few people murmured his name. When it came to the pier and the bay, Slick’s word carried a lot of weight. As the chanting subsided, he said, “Let’s not start a mutiny before the ship has set sail.” Maris had to smirk.
He stepped down from the crate and held out a hand to Audrey, helping her to step up and take his place.
“Thank you, Captain Duff,” she said, no longer using the megaphone. She handed it to Joseph. “And thank you all for being here.” She smiled at many of the individuals she’d already met, including Maris. Both of the NAP representatives were staying at her B&B. “As many of you know, North American Petroleum is committed to the health and beauty of the bay.”
Next to Maris, Howard Scry snorted, and she nodded her agreement to him. Owner of the Main Street Market, Howard bore an uncanny resemblance to Albert Einstein, only reinforced by the fact that he was a retired physics professor. “Beauty of the bay,” he muttered, his white mustache twitching from side to side. “In a pig’s eye.”
Audrey breezily ignored the other similar rumblings from the crowd. “To that end, we have completed two independent EIRs.” She waved a sheaf of papers in the air. “Copies of these are available right now.” She indicated Joseph who began circulating through the crowd to hand them out. “Each of these companies has completed months of research and independently reported that any impact on the ecosystem of Pixie Point Bay would be nil.”
Maris took a copy of the reports from
