Witch Some Win Some (Witch of Mintwood Book 2)

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Witch Some Win Some (Witch of Mintwood Book 2) Page 6

by Addison Creek


  “Andre, would you like me to help you with your packages?” I said.

  All three men now stared at me as if I were slowly growing a second head.

  “No,” said Andre, coldly adjusting his tie.

  Keith folded his arms across his barrel chest. “All the packages in the world aren’t going to help you in this competition,” he said. “I have the winning design in the bag, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. It’s not something you would have even thought of.” Keith clearly thought that whatever Andre was having shipped to him had something to do with the competition. Given how much everyone was focused on their own store winning, that assumption was probably true.

  The postmistress, a stern, no-nonsense woman named Helen, watched silently, her arms folded across her chest. The post office window display was already in full swing, complete with lights and cutouts of snowflakes. Helen didn’t look like she cared one little bit about winning the newspaper competition.

  “Your display couldn’t beat my display even if you hired someone to do the decorating,” said Andre.

  He had just managed to balance eight of his nine packages and was looking longingly at the ninth. We all knew his only option was to grab it with his teeth, but would he? It would be embarrassing if he did, except that there would be a lot of satisfaction in managing to take all the packages away at once.

  On the other hand, if he did use his teeth he would no longer be able to argue with Keith. Until they stopped fighting, the last package would remain there and Liam and I would remain in line.

  “You and your crazy colors and your fancy things and your weird drinks that no one’s ever heard of. You don’t have a chance of winning the competition. Your art might be beautiful, but that doesn’t mean it’s relatable. I have a window display that everyone in town can relate to. That’s what’s important. Buying a bunch of stuff from away isn’t going to help you,” snarled Keith.

  “I don’t need help. I have talent,” scoffed Andre.

  Helen raised an eyebrow at that. I couldn’t tell if she was enjoying the repartee or not, but she certainly wasn’t making any effort to hurry Andre along. She didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who had a sense of humor (she had long ago sent it away with the packages), but there was a chance that once the four of us left, she’d retreat to the back room and cackle to herself. I could see her doing that.

  Liam was still standing there minding his own business, but even that wasn’t going to last long.

  Keith turned to him and said, “I suppose you think you’re going to win too?”

  “Yeah, you probably think you’re going to squeak through with the win even though you’re the newest shop on the street,” said Andre, piling on.

  Uh oh, I thought, escalation! Now Keith and Andre had set aside their differences to turn on Liam. It made me cringe; it was exactly what he’d said he didn’t want happen if he left the Twinkle Shop, and I had walked him right into it. And all I’d wanted was some stamps! At this rate I wasn’t going to win the friend of the year award, that was for sure.

  Luckily, Liam himself was no shrinking violet. “Just because I’m new doesn’t mean I’m going to lose. Most of the other stores have had a chance to be featured in the newspaper, but mine hasn’t yet. I’m hoping this will be the break my store needs.”

  Keith snorted. Andre sniffed. They were remarkably similar sounds.

  “Yeah, yeah, kid. Whatever! We’ve all paid our dues,” said Keith. Then he looked at Helen and declared, “I’ll come back later.”

  “Oh, no, I’m done now,” said Andre. With that he bent down, grabbed the last package in his teeth, and stalked away. We were barely able to see his face as he left.

  Keith, normally a genial and pleasant fellow, didn’t say another word to us. I got my stamps and we left before another proprietor could come in.

  When we were safely outside, Liam shook his head at me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I did need to get out of the store, and anyhow, running into my competitors was bound to happen eventually.”

  With a little wave he walked away, and I was left standing alone in the street.

  I spent most of the rest of the day running errands, then had to stop and check on Vertigo again. I had hoped to hear from Detective Cutter, but there was no chance he’d call my cell phone (coverage in Mintwood was spotty even on a clear and windless day, of which there were few), although there was a small chance that when I got home he’d have left a message for me there.

  Vertigo was only two years old and not used to being left alone. He jumped around wildly when he saw me and inhaled his food so fast I didn’t even have time to turn around. I decided we needed to go for an extra long walk in the evening, but I had some other things to tend to first.

  I was lost in thought as I watched the dog jump around and eat. I was worried about Kayla, and I wondered if Detective Cutter had gone to the lake today to search for the car. He had sounded so skeptical, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he ended up not going at all. I was also worried about Liam. If the encounter in the post office was anything to go by, the competition was going to be fierce. He hadn’t found a centerpiece for his grand display, and he was running out of time.

  Chapter Nine

  I was getting out of the car at the farmhouse when Greer and Charlie came racing outside. Greer was pulling on a jacket and Charlie’s blond hair was flying behind her.

  “Get back in your car,” Charlie yelled frantically as she ran up to me. “It’s all over the radio that they’re pulling a car out of the lake, and my editor wants me on the scene. I figure I should take you along too, just in case you had any thoughts about who tipped off the detective.” She winked.

  “Fun fact, Charlie couldn’t figure out the radio,” Greer added with a grin.

  “It was complicated,” Charlie muttered.

  Since by now it was nighttime, Paws was also coming along.

  “I’m so glad I wear this all the time now,” I said, fingering the ugly green necklace around my neck as I pivoted and started to run back to the car.

  “Me too,” said Paws. “Glad it isn’t an inconvenience or anything. Especially glad you think it’s pretty.”

  On our way back to the lake yet again we were passed by several cars, one of which was a police car.

  “Clearly they found something,” said Charlie. “We have to get there and get the scoop!”

  “That anonymous tip will work out for them,” said Greer. “Go figure.”

  Unsurprisingly, we weren’t the only ones who had made our way to the lake. In fact, it looked like most of the four thousand-odd residents of Mintwood were already there. Just like the time we went to visit Greer at her bar, we had to park far down the street in a long line of cars and walk back to the where the action was. Unable to help it, I glanced toward the Babbling Brook Barn as we walked. To my surprise there was a light burning in the upper floor. I wondered who it was, but I told myself that now wasn’t the time to get sidetracked.

  The road was clogged with police cars, tow trucks, a fire truck, and even an ambulance. Spectators were fanned out on both sides of the scene and bright flood lights illuminated it.

  Charlie, Greer, and I stood with everyone else and watched as the tow truck pulled an old car from the lake. Paws, who always took a chance to go exploring, quickly disappeared.

  The operation didn’t look like easy going, and in fact I had the distinct impression that they had already spent several hours trying to get at the submerged car. Next to me someone muttered, “Who would’ve thought there’d be a car in this lake?”

  It was, in fact, a shocking discovery.

  While the man next to me stood and watched, I suddenly felt a sharp elbow from my right. I glanced at Charlie and found her looking angrily toward the other side of the crime scene.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She let out a long breath that was as close to
a snarl as Charlie ever got. “That damn Hansen Gregory,” she said.

  The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t think why.

  “Who is Hansen Gregory?” I asked.

  To Charlie’s right, Greer snorted.

  “He’s the reporter at the Caedmon Chronicle,” said Charlie, contempt in her usually pleasant voice.

  And then it all fell into place. Charlie was the star of the Gazette, without question. She worked harder and longer than all the other reporters put together, and most of them had given up competing with her for the stories she wanted. After she got the Gracie Coswell scoop, her star had risen even further.

  However, the other local newspapers still had to compete with the Gazette, and some of their reporters did a pretty good job. The one reporter who didn’t just keep up with Charlie but sometimes surpassed her was a guy named Hansen Gregory, who worked for the Caedmon Chronicle. He had started at about the same time as Charlie, and although she never admitted it, he had scooped her on a number of occasions. His writing was good, and some people enjoyed it so much that you could see them in The Daily Brew taking a glance at the Caedmon Chronicle but first checking to make sure Charlie was nowhere to be seen.

  A couple of times since she had moved into the farmhouse, Charlie had come home at night ranting about Hansen Gregory. There had been one particularly upsetting story that involved the building of a new campus library. There were two sides to an ongoing battle about the building, one that wanted to preserve the old building and one that wanted to start fresh. Of course, when local town politics got heated, Hansen Gregory was always on the story.

  This particular dispute wouldn’t have involved Mintwood at all except that the contractor for the new building, if it got built, was going to be from Mintwood. The major scoop was an interview with the Caedmon librarian, who had been at her job even longer than Mrs. Snicks.

  Charlie had done everything she could to ingratiate herself at the library and get the interview, but she’d been rebuffed at every turn. It turned out Hansen Gregory mowed the library lawn all summer, and Charlie never had a chance. Charlie had never forgiven Gregory for this bit of neighborly kindness.

  “He’s helping out an old, single woman? I mean, really! Who does that without an ulterior motive!”

  Greer had said, “Yes, I’m sure he knew there would be a fight over the library and it would come down to what she wanted, so he started mowing.”

  “Exactly my point,” Charlie sputtered. “Doesn’t he have anything else to do?!”

  That was the history of Charlie’s epic, and ongoing, rivalry. And here we were at a newsworthy event where a full moon was providing an excellent view of the proceedings, including a perfect lighting of Charlie’s nemesis.

  Right there on the embankment of Babbling Brook Lake stood Hansen Gregory. Lots of people were looking at him, and I wasn’t sure if it was because they had become aware of his rivalry with Charlie Silver, or because he was really good-looking. After a moment’s reflection, I decided it was probably some of both.

  As we watched, a woman standing next to him edged toward the water to get a better view of the car the police were trying to pull from Mintwood’s pride and joy in the middle of the night. She edged just a bit too far, and then she slipped.

  She was clearly about to tumble over when her forward movement was gently halted, and a strong arm steadied her. Hansen Gregory smiled down at the woman, who smiled gratefully back. I could see his mouth moving, no doubt with a joke about being careful, and she started to laugh. But this display of civic classiness only enraged Charlie further.

  “What do you care?” Greer wondered. “You have the scoop on this one.”

  “You never know with a guy like that,” said Charlie. “Now I really have to be on my toes.”

  The moon was throwing so much light that I could easily spot another movement in Gregory’s direction. Paws had been trailing between the legs of people in the crowd, and he had found his way to Hansen Gregory’s ankle. Concern prickled down my neck. What was my wayward ghost cat going to do now?

  “What is Paws doing?” Charlie gasped. She had seen the same thing I had, and now, to make matters worse, Hansen Gregory could tell we were staring in his general direction, specifically at his feet.

  If he had been less of a gentleman, he would have looked concerned.

  But nothing happened, and I decided Paws had thought better of causing trouble. Paws just delighted in causing me heart palpitations, that’s what it was. Didn’t he know a girl’s heart is fragile?

  We had spent several more minutes watching when I saw a glint of steel-gray glasses. Sure enough, Mary Caldwell was there, watching the proceedings. The tow truck had backed far enough into the water by now so that the crew had somehow managed to secure the car to a chain. It wouldn’t be long before Mary knew what had happened to her sister, or at least got more of the story.

  Silence fell over the crowd as the tow truck started to drive forward.

  Part of the problem the crew had struggled with was that the spot where the car had gone over the embankment nearly twenty-five years ago was now overgrown with large, plump bushes and even small trees. A lot of the space between the road and the water was now impassable for vehicles.

  The police and the towing crew, however, had cleared enough room so that the tow truck was finally able to pull the old car out of the water. Luckily, it really wasn’t that far from shore.

  While most of the town was watching the tow truck with bated breath, Detective Cutter spotted us and lumbered over. I caught a quick glimpse of Hansen Gregory’s face and realized that he wasn’t actually annoyed, more just interested that Cutter was coming to talk to Charlie instead of to him.

  Town rivalries, of course, extended beyond newspaper scoops, and Hansen surely must have known that Cutter, despite how skeptical he was of me and my friends, would never betray Mintwood by favoring the Chronicle.

  “Good tip,” he said, bracing his beefy hands on his hips. “We’re running the plates now. Hopefully we’ll know soon who the car belongs to and why it’s in the lake. Amazing we missed it all these years. Never would have guessed a whole car would be in that body of water.”

  Our wait was soon over. Mary Caldwell had made her way to the front of the crowd. She was dressed in a sweater that looked threadbare even from a distance, and she had pulled it tightly around herself as if it could protect her from what was coming. It was testament to her sister that she was out here so late at night.

  When Mary saw the car finally make its slow way onto the shore, lurching and pouring water from every side, she gave a horrified cry. Some spectators noticed it as something more guttural and personal than the shocked noises we were all uttering, but many did not at first realize that a woman in their midst had recognized the car. One of the few who did was Hansen Gregory, but he couldn’t get to Mary before the woman made a beeline for Detective Cutter, her eyes wide and her arms gesturing wildly.

  “I don’t think they need to run the plates,” said Charlie.

  Perched in a tree, as if she was worried she’d get trampled on the ground, Kayla sat gazing down at all the commotion. She had looked sad until she spotted her sister, then she brightened. After all these years, Mary Caldwell was still protecting her.

  Despite Kayla’s insistence that she never saw other ghosts at the lake, several others had appeared and were watching from along the water’s edge. Most were nodding and looking on with approval. One of their own had been found.

  Charlie and Hansen both converged on Detective Cutter and Kayla’s sister, but the detective was no newbie, and he quickly got Mary Caldwell away from the two reporters. Charlie veered off and came back to us before she risked actually having to speak with Hansen. He noticed her and lifted his hand as if to wave, but Charlie had already spun around with a sniff.

  While Greer and I waited for Charlie, Jasper strolled up. When I saw him coming, my eyes skidded to the barn. The lights were out.

  “
Evening,” he said, “fancy seeing you three here. If I didn’t know better I’d say you liked the place.” He fell into step beside us as we headed back to the Beetle.

  Jasper echoed the common sentiments of everyone else in Mintwood: how could a car have been found in the lake? Almost all the way to the Beetle, I thought I had gotten away with him not noticing the distinct coincidence that the three of us had been out on the lake the night before, and then a car was mysteriously discovered by the police the next day.

  “It was you who issued the tip, wasn’t it?” he said, turning to me.

  Paws, who was circling my ankles at that very moment, said, “Now you’ve done it. Gone and found a smart one, because sure. You didn’t have enough trouble.”

  “I’d have less trouble if I didn’t have to put up with you,” I said through the side of my mouth.

  To Jasper I said, “Ummm.”

  He just shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll just assume.”

  “I’m not sure that’s better,” said Greer from the other side of the car.

  “That’s my point,” said Jasper, grinning. His truck was parked a little up the slope, and after saying goodnight he turned around and walked away, passing Charlie as he did.

  “If her hair wasn’t so thick it would probably be standing on end right now,” said Greer, watching her come closer. All Charlie’s interactions with Hansen Gregory made her furious.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlie’s editor was shocked at the speed with which Charlie delivered her the story for the next morning.

  “If you hadn’t emailed me upon leaving the scene, we’d have had to wait another day to run an article,” she had said with palpable delight. “It’s as if you already had it written.”

  Charlie was jubilant to discover that the Caedmon Chronicle didn’t have a full and juicy story, because they hadn’t had enough time before the paper had gone to print for that morning’s edition. “Take that, Hansen,” she muttered, hunched over her cereal while she peered at a sheaf of papers spread out in front of her.

 

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