Mintwood's Magical Map

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Mintwood's Magical Map Page 9

by Addison Creek


  “I saw your plans inside the shed,” I said. “Can you tell me which patch you might have been in this past week? That might give me a place to start,” I said.

  “I didn’t really keep track like that. You could ask Mrs. Smith. She always knew where I was supposed to be,” he said.

  “Her granddaughter doesn’t seem to think that Mrs. Smith is still all there,” I said gently. There was really no way to say it politely.

  Burbank snorted. “She forgot things sometimes, but she always remembers the gardening. I always thought it was important how you spoke to her. Then she’d remember. She’s still sharp.”

  “When we find your body, you’ll have to leave this place,” I told him.

  He smiled sadly. “All of these gardens are mine. I did all the work. It will be hard to leave. I hope she finds someone else to take care of them and love them as much as I did,” he said.

  We talked for a few more minutes. Burbank was of course worried about how his family was coping, and I tried to reassure him that they were well looked after. He agreed that Mrs. Smith would never let them be neglected.

  As I stood up to leave I said, “Will I be able to find you here for the time being? I might have more questions.”

  “Please come back,” he said. “I’ll be here. I can’t get any work done without you.”

  “I’ll try to remember to pull the weeds by the roots next time,” I told him.

  “Right. Have to get your fingers deep down in there. If you leave the roots, the weeds will just come back,” he told me.

  I dusted off my hands and walked away. It was pretty clear that the man was dead. Now the only question was: How? Then again, there was probably another question: Who? As in, who had done it?

  It struck me as I walked away that the gardener didn’t seem the least bit concerned about that. All he cared about was his gardens.

  There was something nice about that, so long as it wasn’t what had gotten him killed.

  Charlie and Gracie were standing out front, neither saying a word at this point. Both of them looked relieved when I showed up.

  “Did you find anything?” Gracie asked eagerly.

  My eyes flicked to Charlie and I gave a slight nod. She bowed her head and sighed. When we found a new ghost it was never a good night, especially when that ghost was so young.

  “I think I may have. I need to talk to some of your grandmother’s staff. It would also help if I could talk your grandmother,” I said.

  “Of course. She’s a big fan of visitors. Can you come back tomorrow?” Gracie asked.

  “Of course we can,” said Charlie.

  “How do you know there’s a problem, anyway?” Gracie asked, looking skeptical all of a sudden. I couldn’t exactly blame her. It wasn’t as if I had come around the corner with proof of any kind.

  “Just call it an educated guess. You know I wouldn’t waste your time. If it turns out I’m wrong, I will apologize profusely,” I said. Silently, I added to myself that I was not wrong.

  “Of course. We’ve known each other for a long time. I trust you. What are you, a witch or something?” she said with a laugh.

  Charlie’s eyes widened in alarm. It would have been almost comical if she hadn’t been so worried.

  “Don’t be silly. Those don’t exist,” I said quickly.

  “Come back here tomorrow after breakfast and we can speak with my grandmother. She’s pretty upset. I’m sure she’ll be happy that someone else is looking into this,” said Gracie.

  With that, Charlie and I headed for the Beetle.

  It had officially been a very long night.

  “Let’s go home and get some sleep,” I said.

  Once we were in the car I told Charlie everything. She thought it was funny that there was still dirt under my fingernails from weeding. “He must really love those gardens,” she said.

  “He does. Has everyone in his family been eliminated as a suspect?” I asked, knowing she would have asked Gracie, not to mention searching all the information about the case that had been made public.

  “His family has, yeah,” said Charlie, smothering a yawn with one small hand. “I was reading over a couple of the articles today. It looks like his wife was out of town and came back to find him missing. Her son is in his freshman year in college, so he wasn’t around either.”

  I clucked my tongue. I was on the hunt for a murderer, seamlessly slipping into the role despite the fact that earlier tonight we had been running away from dark ghosts and a terrifying coven confrontation.

  We drove the rest of the way home in silence. I was too tired to say much. When we got there I had the distinct impression that I might have seen a dark ghost through the trees on the road. At that point I didn’t care. At that particular point, tangling with me would be a lot worse for a dark ghost than for me.

  Chapter Twelve

  I woke up to the hammering again the next morning. At first I grabbed my extra pillow and covered my head with it, trying to go back to sleep. I closed my eyes and wished.

  That worked about as well as you might expect. After a few minutes of angry tossing and turning, I threw off my covers, got dressed, and went downstairs. Hansen was in the kitchen, just like the day before. When he saw me he gave an apologetic shrug. “I can’t wake up and do nothing. You three have been so hospitable, I feel like the least I can do is make breakfast. Coffee is over there,” he said, pointing to the counter.

  He was once again wearing one of my grandmother’s aprons, and I couldn’t help but smile as I went over to pour myself a large cup of coffee. “Are you able to do any work here?”

  “Some. Not as much as I’d like. Toil Tamper is really moving in on my territory. I need to get back to work and clear things up for him.”

  “I was thinking I could drop you off at work while I speak with Geraldine,” I said.

  “Which one was she?” he asked, frowning at the skillet.

  I told him, and he agreed that my trying to speak with Geraldine made sense.

  Meanwhile, the rhythmic sound of hammering could still be heard as background to our conversation, even in the kitchen, which was at the back of the farmhouse. I tried to block out the sound, with mixed success.

  “You must have a lot of questions for me,” I said, hoping to get a conversation going with Hansen to distract me from my own irritation about living across from a construction site.

  He paused and considered for a moment.

  “I do,” he agreed. “I mean, I’m very curious about witches, but I don’t want to intrude. I can see that what I was doing got me into a lot of trouble. Your good graces were the only thing that got me out of it.”

  “It turned out we like having you around,” I said with a smile. “Besides, I know you. You won’t give up our secret.”

  “I’m not sure that all of you like having me around, but you’re right about one thing. Journalists are very good at keeping secrets.” He grinned and we sat down to breakfast.

  We chatted quietly as we ate. I was just finishing up my scrambled eggs when Charlie emerged, already dressed and ready for the day. Her blonde hair was combed and she had put on a bit of makeup. When we didn’t have company she was more than happy to emerge in her pajamas, but she obviously wanted to be more presentable for Hansen, of all people.

  “There’s some breakfast if you want it,” said Hansen, twisting around to look at her.

  “Thank you. Did you tell him anything about last night?” she asked me.

  “I didn’t want to ask about it until you were here,” said Hansen.

  Charlie colored slightly at the thought that she would have imagined Hansen being rude enough to ask when she wasn’t around to help tell the story. He had made it more than clear that he wouldn’t do that. She got over her embarrassment quickly enough, poured herself some coffee, and came to sit with us while we talked about our adventure with Gracie.

  We told him everything. He was fascinated that I could see and speak to ghosts. He was e
ven more fascinated that they couldn’t remember their last moments of life. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. “So, wait a minute. That’s how you always had such good information on cases? Right? You were actually talking to the ghosts,” he said.

  Charlie shrank away a bit in the face of his astonishment, clearly worried that he was going to be offended. We had had a distinct advantage over him for months now, basically ever since we’d met him.

  But Hansen just shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he said, looking at Charlie with wonder. “Imagine having such a difference in access to information!”

  “I’m still a good journalist, you know,” she snapped.

  He reeled away, stung. Clearly he had been so lost in shock that he hadn’t thought about the implications of what he’d said. He made haste to correct the mistaken impression. “You’re the best damned journalist I’ve ever met,” he said.

  I decided it was time to let them sort it out without me. “I’m going to see the people across the street again,” I said, getting up from the table and taking my dishes to the sink. “When I get back we have to go talk to Gracie. Hansen, it would probably be best if you came with us. I don’t think we should leave you here alone until I’ve spoken with someone in the coven.”

  “Good, because I desperately need to get out of the house,” he said. Then he turned to Charlie and started. “So that murder in the cabin . . .”

  There was no point in sitting there listening to the two of them rehash old investigations, so I left them to it. Hansen was probably in for some big surprises, while Charlie was about to do a lot of talking and explaining.

  When I stepped out into the bright sunshine of the porch, I found Paws curled up on a chair, asleep. He was barely visible, and I walked past him slowly so as not to wake him. Despite his casual attitude about the night before, I knew he must be tired.

  Just as I reached the bottom of the steps, the door behind me opened and a very disgruntled-looking Greer came out.

  “Are you going to yell at them, or do I have to?” she asked.

  “I was going to do it,” I said.

  She nodded. “Great. I’m going with you. I still want to watch you yell. Maybe somehow the lyrical noise of your fury will help me get back to sleep.”

  I knew she must be really mad if she was saying phrases like “the lyrical noise of your fury.” In fact, she looked like she shouldn’t be out in the bright sunshine at all. As she came quietly down the steps, her eyes were barely open and her face was scrunched up in annoyance.

  “I work too late for this, you know. What is all this hammering, anyway?” she asked.

  “I still don’t know. I asked Tyler yesterday, but he wouldn’t tell me,” I said. “They’re working on the Manor Portrait house, that’s all I know.”

  “I should have known it was the Wolf Corporation. You should just ask Jasper. Right after he explains why you two aren’t together,” said Greer.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think we’re going to have that conversation in front of twenty construction workers, and anyhow, he wasn’t around when I went over yesterday. Tyler Spin seems to be in charge.”

  Even through eyes that were still mostly closed, Greer could smirk. And she did. “That’s too bad. It would have been fun to watch.”

  I rolled my eyes and ignored her silliness.

  “Did Deacon stay over last night?” I asked.

  Greer’s eyes opened wider, but this time in annoyance. “No, he didn’t. He said he was busy again.”

  Her tone convinced me to let it go, at least for now.

  The first thing I saw at the falling-down house across the road was a big black truck. The house itself was now covered with tarps, with various tools and piles of wood set up around the yard. But all of that paled in comparison to the fact that this time, Jasper was there.

  His feet firmly planted, he was standing with his back to me, speaking to someone in a hard hat who was holding out plans. The guy in the hard hat gave Jasper a significant look as the two of us approached.

  Jasper looked over his shoulder just as I started to smile. When he didn’t return the smile, mine quickly disappeared from my face. Even Greer frowned at that point. Jasper was usually happy to see me.

  “Morning,” he said, his voice rough.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “What can I help you two with?” he asked. He was looking hard at me, and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. I wasn’t used to him scrutinizing me intently in front of other people.

  The guy in the hard hat excused himself. “Been away from my little lambs for five minutes. They’ve probably done lots of things wrong that I have to go yell at them about,” he said, tipping his hat to us as he went.

  “What are you two doing over here?” Jasper asked when we were alone.

  “Thought we’d come see why hammering keeps waking us up in the morning,” said Greer casually. Jasper’s reaction had apparently shaken her out of the notion that she was just here as a spectator. I appreciated the rescue.

  Jasper’s eyes widened a bit. “Sorry about that. This is only a phase.”

  “Until you turn this place into . . . what, exactly?” Greer asked.

  Jasper frowned. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “The hammering is definitely a surprise,” she confirmed.

  Jasper ran his hands through his dark hair. I had stayed silent so far, mostly because I was trying to figure out what his problem was. If he was dating someone else, wouldn’t he tell me? He wouldn’t then be angry to see me, would he? This was all terribly confusing. And how did he expect something to be a surprise that was bound to wake up the whole neighborhood?

  “Do we even want to know what you’re thinking right now?” Greer asked me in amusement.

  “I don’t like surprises,” was all I managed to say.

  “I don’t either,” said Jasper, some of his bad mood returning.

  “If it’s only temporary, I suppose we can live with it,” Greer tried to offer. “I just wanted you to know that it’s . . . loud.”

  “It should get quieter when they move inside,” said Jasper.

  “And when will that be?” I grumbled.

  “Soon,” he said, frowning once more.

  “I can see that of the three of us, I’m the only one who can talk safely,” said Greer, her voice still light as she looked between us.

  I puffed out a breath and gave Jasper what was probably a pleading look. The last thing I needed right now was to be fighting with anyone other than the coven . . . and Ellie, and probably Gracie by the end of the day.

  Jasper grimaced. Then he turned to me and said, “Can I see you later? We need to talk.”

  Greer cut in before I had a chance to reply. “Oh, no you don’t. ‘We need to talk’ is not something you’re allowed to say to my Lemmi. Ever.”

  Jasper looked downright exasperated.

  “Sure. We can . . . talk,” I said.

  He nodded. “What are you doing today?”

  We both raised our eyebrows at him at that point, but when he didn’t back down I said, “Hansen and Charlie are going with me to speak with Gracie Coswell’s grandmother. Her gardener is missing.”

  “I saw the papers,” Jasper nodded.

  “I am trying to help her find the gardener,” I explained.

  Jasper’s eyes softened a little bit. “How’s it going?” It looked like it took an effort on his part to ask such a normal question.

  “Better than I expected. I hope to have more information later today. I don’t think Detective Cutter will appreciate it, though,” I said.

  “He never does,” said Jasper.

  “Excuse me. We could use your help over here if you have a minute,” broke in Tyler, who had come around behind Jasper so quietly that I hadn’t even noticed.

  Jasper just nodded. Before he walked away he said, “I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Sure thing,” I said.

  “I’ll come by the farmhouse af
ter work,” he said.

  Greer and I said our goodbyes as Jasper walked away. Then we turned and headed home. As soon as we were facing the road I realized that Jasper still hadn’t told us what he was turning the house into. He now had two secret projects in the works.

  “Maybe Jasper is jealous that Hansen is staying over,” suggested Greer.

  “Did Deacon care?” I asked.

  Greer snorted. “No, good point. But then again . . . you know what I was saying about him yesterday. Deacon probably wouldn’t notice if we had ten male models move in.”

  “I’m pretty sure he would,” I said, feeling the need to defend Deacon.

  “Can we have ten male models move in just to see?” Greer asked with a grin.

  I laughed. “I don’t think there’s room. Besides, we have enough primping just with Paws.”

  “True,” Greer agreed.

  As we reached the porch I sighed. Jasper had actually appeared angry, which was rare for him. He was usually calm and controlled.

  Greer looked at me sympathetically. “Just don’t let him push you around tonight.”

  “I won’t. I’m sure he’s not going to,” I said.

  “I have one word for you,” said Greer before opening the door to go in.

  “What’s that?” I grumbled, my mood plummeting further the more we walked away from Jasper.

  “Men,” said Greer with an enormous amount of satisfaction.

  Hansen and Charlie had moved their conversation to the living room by the time we got back to the house, but they were basically just waiting for me to get back. Greer decided to try to sleep some more despite the hammering, and the rest of us headed over to Gracie’s.

  “I called and told her we’d be there soon,” said Charlie.

  “Great. We can go there first, then I can drop Hansen off at work while I go speak with Geraldine,” I said.

  Charlie looked nervous, but nodded. “That sounds good.”

  We had just made it to the end of the driveway when a familiar car pulled up in front of us, bringing Scarlett and Josephine for an unexpected visit. I stopped the Beetle but left it running, then I checked to be sure that my wand was tucked safely into my sleeve.

 

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