“That’s what she was about to say before we cast the spell,” Fae said. “She was about to blackmail us.” She took the notebook and stuffed it into her pocket. “Well, no use stressing about that now. Let’s just hope she didn’t tell anyone about the Potion Portal, else we’re going to be toast.”
Chapter Nine
“I hope we did the right thing,” Dinah said during breakfast the following morning. “Fae, are you absolutely convinced there was no way of getting Mrs. Glenville to confess?”
Fae poured everyone a second cup of tea. “If you’d looked at her heart with your astral glasses, Dinah, I have no doubt you would’ve seen nothing there. I’ve dealt with dark magic witches in my lifetime, and she was cut from the same cloth. You can’t fight them with laws and prison sentences. She’d have gotten off no matter what.”
Dinah shivered visibly. She hated it when there was any talk about black magic.
“Speaking of prison,” Blaise said, “I saw the zoo animal relocation services van was here earlier and carted Mrs. Glenville”—she looked around the room and corrected herself—“carted the ostrich off. Looks like she’ll be spending the rest of her days in a cage.”
Fae leaned forward and looked at the newspaper lying on the table. “At last, here’s an update on the Shady Pastures murders.” She put her reading glasses on. “It says here Stanley will stand trial on charges of murder and embezzlement, and Petula has been released. At least she’s been cleared, poor girl.”
Then she turned the page, and her face lit up. “Oh, look here. It’s an ad for a special cruise offer on board the Azure. Don’t you guys think we deserve a little break?”
“I say we finish up and go pack,” Dinah said and finished her tea in one gulp. “My husband wouldn’t mind if we treated ourselves to a cruise. We can do with a break from the hectic lives we have here at Shady Pastures.”
After breakfast, Fae took a walk to the remembrance wall behind the chapel. Now that his killer had been caught, she’d thought Joe’s memory would begin to fade. That hadn’t happened—she missed him even more now.
As she rounded the hedge that circled the remembrance wall, she heard someone crying softly. She expected to see a relative sitting on one of the benches, weeping at the recent loss of a grandmother or grandfather. She was about to turn on her heel and leave, but something made her peek around the corner of the hedge. Sitting by himself was Willie Humberton, his hunched shoulders shaking as he cried.
She walked softly up to him and sat down on the edge of the bench he was sitting on, watching him cry from the corner of her eye.
“You didn’t get to see your father the first time you came here, did you?” she asked softly as he dabbed his face with his handkerchief.
Willie looked at Fae with red eyes and shook his head. “You’re right. I did come here two days before he died. But no one could find him, so I left again, very disappointed. I’d been looking forward to meeting him again after so long. It was a huge shock for me and my mom when the police phoned and told us he’d been murdered.”
He took a photo from his pocket and showed it to Fae. It was a much-fingered copy of the black-and-white photo of Joe with his boys.
Fae instantly started feeling bad upon seeing the photo. Her gut feeling about Willie had been completely wrong.
“I’ve carried this photo with me all these years, hoping I’d meet him again. When Mom heard from him, it took me a while to gather up the courage to visit him, but I was beside myself with joy that he’d reconnected. I left it too late, though. Now there’s a part of my life that’ll remain unresolved forever.”
“I’m so sorry you two never reunited,” Fae said, her own face now wet with tears. “He was a dear friend, and we spent many hours talking. If it’s any consolation, I can assure you he never forgot about you.”
They sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes. Then Willie gathered up his car keys. “Maybe I’ll return someday and you can tell me about your conversations with him.”
Fae smiled. “Please do. In the meantime, rest assured your father was a very, very good man.”
After he left, Fae remained seated, alone with her thoughts. She thought of her family living in Whitewood Manor, whom she probably didn’t see nearly enough. She ought to invite them over for tea more often. They still had so much to talk about before she was no more.
“I’m getting too old for this,” Dina whined as the three witches made their way through the shrubbery in a secluded section of the parking lot and dropped the heavy loads they were carrying. “My back’s aching and my feet are killing me. When are we ever going to retire?”
“You’ve just returned from ten days lying in the sun on a cruise ship deck,” Blaise whispered back. “You should be in tip-top shape after the rest.” She tilted her head, listening for the sound of an approaching vehicle. “Shh, here they come. Get the merchandise ready for delivery.”
“Thanks for the potions,” an invisible voice said from the backseat of the car after the witches had delivered their cargo through the open window. “We loved the last shipment of potions. They worked like a charm.” A gloved hand appeared and presented them with a folded note. “Here’s our order for next week, if that’s okay.”
Fae pumped Dinah in the ribs when she let out a disappointed sigh. “With pleasure, dear clients,” Fae answered in a cheerful whisper. “We aim to please. Same place, same time, next week.” The car slowly pulled away, and moments later the parking lot was quiet and deserted. It was as if no one had been there since the last family had left after their afternoon visit with their aging relatives.
“Alright, costumes off,” Fae ordered and started removing her witch clothing and pointed hat, stuffing it into her black bag.
“Yeah, yeah, we know the ritual,” Dinah mumbled. “No need to repeat it every time we do this.”
It wasn’t that Dinah was being cranky out of the blue. The events surrounding Joe’s death had put a huge damper on her enthusiasm for the Potion Portal. She and Fae had bickered about potion recipes several times. Besides that, the production line had been acting up. A broom they’d made had failed to take off when tested, and Blaise had knocked over a cauldron full of evil repellant, which had stunk up the basement for a week.
It was, therefore, understandable that the three walked back to the main building in an uncomfortable silence. Sure, the extra income still came in handy, but all were uncertain about what the future held. No one knew how to reinvent themselves in order to regain their mojo.
“Have you got the front door key?” Fae whispered to Dinah as they sneaked onto the veranda. Dinah took hold of the doorknob, but before she had had a chance to insert the key, the door swung open, and the reception area lights came on.
“I’m glad to see you’re back from your outing, ladies.” Claptrap didn’t make an effort to hide his snide sarcasm. “Did you enjoy your night on the town?”
Fae shaded her eyes against the bright ceiling light. Claptrap was sitting in one of the visitor’s chairs in his pajamas and slippers, his legs folded and holding a file he was drumming his fingers on.
“How kind of you to wait up for us, Mr. Drake,” Fae shot back, though she knew what was coming. “Yes, we’re home, so you can go off to bed now. Goodnight.” She started down the corridor to their bedroom.
“Not so fast, Mrs. Whitewood. You know the rules, don’t you? All residents in Shady Pastures must be home no later than nine.” He swung his arm in a theatrical movement and looked at this watch. “Let me see what the time is now. Gosh. It’s past twelve already. That means you’ve all broken the curfew. Or do you have any valid excuses?”
Fae made a vain attempt at fibbing her way out of the predicament. “I’m sure you can overlook these unfortunate transgressions. The car that brought us back broke down and—”
Claptrap held up his hand to silence Fae. “Rules are rules, and you broke them. He opened the file on his lap. “You leave me no choice but to expel you from Sh
ady Pastures for very serious transgressions. You know the rules. Believe me, this hurts me more than it hurts you. If you’ll sign these admission of guilt forms, please.”
“I demand an appeal,” Fae said and balled her fists in her sides as the other two succumbed and took a pen from Claptrap to sign the forms.
Mr. Drake raised his voice in irritation. “Mrs. Whitewood, this isn’t a court of law. You broke rules that are there to ensure the safety and security of residents. Now, we can do an investigation, but it’ll do you no good, I’m sure you know that. If you want, you can approach the board of directors, but that would take months. In the meantime, please clean out your room. Inform your families to collect you tomorrow morning.”
Blaise took Fae’s arm, shot Claptrap a pernicious look and turned away from him. “We can’t fight him, Fae, let’s go,” she whispered. “We’ll get him back in other ways.” She winked. “You know what I mean.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” a tearful Dinah said as Fae closed the bedroom door behind them. “We’ll have to leave behind all those wonderful potions downstairs. Two hundred years from now, an archeologist will rediscover the basement and unleash a wave of speculation about Shady Pastures having been home to a coven of witches.”
“Stop being so sentimental, Dinah.” Fae bashed her bedside table with her fist. “I should have turned the scoundrel into a toad right there, but I’d forgotten the spell in the heat of the moment.”
“At least we have our families to fall back on,” the ever-practical Blaise said. “Imagine if we had nowhere to go. We’re probably blacklisted now at every old age home from here to California, knowing how vindictive Claptrap can be.”
“My daughter’s going to have a heart attack when she hears I’m moving in,” Dinah moaned.
“Enough of the self-pity, already!” Fae’s voice cut through Dinah’s sniffing, and Blaise winced. She went over to a cupboard, dug up a small bottle of whiskey hidden at the back of her stocking drawer and poured all three a stiff one into their teacups.
“Girls, this is simply the end of an era. We’re not going to suddenly stop being witches. The world needs old, world-wise ladies like us to teach a new generation the tricks of the trade. I, for one, have my work cut out for me. My daughter Hazel, the twins, and the apple of my eye, my granddaughter Lori, living over at Whitewood Mansion, may call themselves witches, but they’ve lapsed long ago. None of them can tell a thistle from a fennel, never mind cast the simplest of spells. I’m going over there to put that right.”
The other two listened attentively to Fae, slowly nodding their heads.
“So, let me propose a toast before we go downstairs and pack a few essentials.” All three lifted their teacups.
“To us,” Blaise said and drank down her cup.
“To us,” Fae and Dinah echoed and did the same.
Epilogue
“I’m Fae Whitewood’s granddaughter, Lori Whitewood. I’m here to check her out,” Lori said to Chrissie behind the reception desk of Shady Pastures. “Is there any paperwork to be done?”
Chrissie tut-tutted. “I don’t know what got into Mr. Drake. We were all so fond of Fae and her sidekicks. They were always friendly and full of fun.”
“Looks like they were having a bit too much fun when he caught them slipping out,” Lori said grimly. “On another note, what’s this story I’ve been reading about in the papers, about the murder of the janitor and the director’s son?”
“It’s been a terrible time.” Chrissie leaned forward, glad to have someone to talk to and have a break from the humdrum of her receptionist job. “They arrested our accountant, Stanley Ellis, for committing fraud and murdering Mr. Drake’s son, Hank, to conceal his theft. Rumor has it that someone paid Hank to kill our beloved janitor, Joe, but the police are being very tight-lipped about it.”
Lori struggled to keep up with the details Chrissie was giving her. “I thought the cops were holding Joe’s ex-girlfriend on suspicion in a crime of passion murder?” She frowned. “And while all of this is happening, Drake still has time to throw my grandmother out of Shady Pastures?”
“Exactly my thoughts too,” Chrissie said and put her hand on Lori’s arm in confidence. “This whole thing’s a mystery. There’s even a rumor Joe was having an affair with Mrs. Yankelich, in whose room he was found. And no one’s quite explained why Stanley’s conscience caught up with him out of the blue.”
Lori was glad to hear her granny’s familiar voice behind her, calling for help with her luggage. She didn’t care much for gossip in an old age home, so she excused herself to go help Fae.
“I’m still curious about exactly why you got expelled,” Lori said as she turned the family van onto the main road heading to Fennelmoore.
“We were caught slipping back into the building after making a delivery from the Potion Portal,” Fae said, expecting a dressing-down from Lori. Lori had warned her repeatedly that their clandestine magic operation in the basement would get them into trouble sooner or later.
Strangely, Lori didn’t respond. Fae looked at Lori out of the corner of her eye. Her granddaughter’s pursed lips told her she was troubled and preoccupied. She cleared her throat to try and illicit a response.
Lori braked hard after coming close to running a red light. “Sorry, Granny. I wasn’t paying attention. You were telling me how Mr. Drake got wind of the Potion Portal.”
Fae waved her hand. “Never mind. Thank you for taking me in, my child. I know it’s short notice. And I promise to behave.”
Again, Lori failed to respond.
“What’s up?” Fae couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “I sense something’s the matter. Boyfriend trouble? If Randolph is misbehaving again, I’ll—”
Lori sighed. “No, it’s nothing like that. Cash flow is very tight at the shop right now, and I’m struggling to make ends meet. Fennelmoore’s a small town, and there are only so many people interested in buying vitamin supplements and health drinks.”
Fae knew about the Wholesome, although she’d never been there. It was Lori’s health food store that she’d opened a few months before, and the Whitewood family’s primary source of income.
“Have you set up that coffee corner I suggested?” Fae asked.
“I have. It’s working out nicely and providing a few dollars’ worth of extra income. I’m also thinking of turning the basement into a massage parlor, but it’s a bit stuffy down there and will require substantial capital to do the conversion—money I don’t have right now.” Lori turned into the Whitewood Manor driveway. “Here we are. Welcome home, Granny.”
Fae was quiet for a minute. When Lori looked at her after turning off the car, she could almost hear the gears spinning inside her granny’s head. She recognized the cunning smile from before. Fae was about to come up with a Big Plan.
“Alright, spit it out, Granny. What are you thinking?”
Fae looked pleased with herself. “I know exactly how you can get rid of your money troubles.” She normally had trouble unbuckling with her arthritic fingers but clicked her safety belt open in one move, as if she’d found a new lease on life. “I’m going to use that basement to add a few, shall we say, ‘complementary’ product lines to your shop.” She grinned and her eyes shone when she opened the car door. “Don’t look so surprised, Lori. Your salvation has arrived. Come on, get my luggage and let’s get me settled in. We have a lot to discuss. Let’s get the show on the road!”
* * *
THE END
Also by Agnes Lester Brown
THE MUSHROOM MYSTERY
Fennelmoore is in deep trouble. Mayor Riley has hatched a hare-brained scheme to turn the tranquil, picturesque village into an garish theme park, much to the disgust of the Whitewood Witches. Fortunately the Mushroom Convention arrives in town, buying them time to stop their crazy mayor. But then a famous mushroom expert is murdered at the convention, and it's up to feisty Lori Whitewood and her inventive family of witches to use all the
ir magic potion prowess to catch a dangerous, unpredictable killer and save Fennelmoore from imminent destruction. In between Lori has trouble coping with the advances of the handsome but enigmatic Matt. What does he know about the murder that he's not sharing with her? Will she solve the mystery before the killer escapes from Fennelmoore?
Available now on Amazon, or read for free on Kindle Unlimited!
DEATH AT THE CIRCUS
Instead of bringing joy and entertainment to Fennelmoore, the arrival of the Blackwood Circus casts a dark shadow over the picturesque town that is home to the Whitewood Witches. Not all is well at the circus, and before long a grisly murder places an array of colorful, exotic circus artists under suspicion. Gutsy Lori Whitewood has to navigate a dense web of deception, revenge and score settling to catch the murderer. Will her magic skills be enough to protect her from a remorseless and ruthless killer who'll stop at nothing to protect his identity? Will she be able to set her emotions aside and let justice prevail when confronted with impossible choices?
Available on Amazon now!
Join the Agnes Lester Brown mailing list to receive details of this and other exciting release!
POTIONS AND PUZZLES
The Whitewood Witches are super-excited when their home, the quaint village of Fennelmoore is chosen to host the celebrity-studded World Crossword Tournament competition. But soon there's disturbing evidence of dark shenanigans in the weird, whimsical world of crosswording that threatens to throw the competition into disarray. Things take a turn for the worse when a corpse with a mysterious crossword tattooed on its back surfaces at the celebrity-studded event. Touched by her brief acquaintance with the murdered man, feisty Lori Whitewood is soon confronted by a deceptive web of greed and deceit while pursuing a twisted maniac before he strikes again. Forced to rely on her witchy wits she has to overcome the belligerent crossword mogul Kermit Greenstone while working with the half-witted Chief Winters to solve a mysterious riddle that holds the key to the truth. And when the dust settles, who will remain standing to become the next crossword world champion?
An Old Witches Tale Page 11