“Would the jewelry be in the attic?” I pressed.
The cat shuddered. “More like the basement.”
Now it was my turn to shudder. I hated the basement. I never went into the basement. Even when my grandmother was alive I didn’t go into the basement. Now I had chills for multiple reasons.
“That’s why she put the stuff down there,” said Paws, “because she knew no one would ever look in an old basement farmhouse for valuables. Even burglars wouldn’t want to go down there, they’d just take what they could out of the main part of the house and scram.”
“What burglar did Grandma think would make it past the ghosts?” I said.
Paws glowered at me through the darkness. “None ever did.”
That night, as we cleaned up from dinner, I was determined to find the nerve to tell my friends what I wanted. As Greer washed dishes, Charlie dried, and I put them away, I said, “So I was thinking, maybe you two should be able to see ghosts wherever we go.”
All dishwashing activity stopped. Let’s be honest, Greer never lasted long at cleanup anyway, but this time even Charlie paused, and she and Greer exchanged such telling glances that I almost had the feeling they’d discussed this before.
Greer spoke carefully when she said, “We never wanted to pressure you into something like that. We know it’s a big deal, and even seeing the ghosts we already see is strange for us, but somehow in a good way.”
Charlie nodded. “Until you told me you were a witch, I never would have thought that seeing ghosts was something I’d want to do. Like, it’s not a bucket list item. But now I kind of look forward to coming home every night. Paws is great.”
“That’s the first time anyone’s ever said that,” Greer muttered, reaching down and rubbing Charger’s ears. The lab was never far from her when she was at home.
“You just don’t like him because he isn’t a dog,” said Charlie.
“No, I don’t like him because he’s a cat,” said Greer.
“If it’s something you want to think about, I totally understand,” I said, finishing up putting the plates away. “I don’t want to pressure you. These are my cases and I have to solve them, but I love having you guys along. I know you have your own things to do, though.”
“We don’t really have a lot of our own things to do,” said Charlie. “And you know how much I love mysteries.”
“You two can’t very well go along without me. Who would provide the rationality and intelligence in the group?” said Greer.
“That’s an excellent point,” said Charlie. “Without you there’s just no intelligence at all.”
“I mean there’s Paws,” said Greer.
“So you’re admitting the cat has intelligence,” said Charlie.
“Okay, great! Let’s go to the basement,” I said.
The door to the basement was in the kitchen and had not been opened since Charlie moved in.
“Whoa, hold on, you didn’t say anything about the basement,” said Greer. She held up her hand defensively as if I had proposed something completely preposterous.
“Paws said that’s where the jewels are that you’ll have to wear in order to see ghosts when we’re off the property. I’m not even sure what they are, but hopefully they’re cuter than this necklace,” I said. I was getting used to the ugly necklace, but it was still puke green.
Charlie and Greer eyed the basement door skeptically. “I guess if we’re going to sneak into deserted buildings and confront murderers, we could go down to the basement of the house we live in,” said Greer.
“Speak for yourself,” said Charlie. “Can you imagine the cobwebs down there? Gross.”
“We can go without you and bring the jewels up to the kitchen,” I offered.
“I don’t want you to go without me,” said Charlie. “I’d be lonely up here and miss all the fun.”
“Well, if you think the basement is going to be fun, you should go first,” said Greer.
“I don’t think I went so far as to say that,” said Charlie.
“Let’s just get it over with,” I said. “Once you have your jewelry you can decide when to wear it and when not to.”
So far I had managed not to perform any spells, a pretty good accomplishment for the Witch of Mintwood. With the jewelry we were proposing to look for, I might actually have to do something. It had been relatively easy to give Greer and Charlie permission see ghosts on the property; given how long they’d been here, they ran the risk of seeing them anyhow, and without any prior warning that would really have confused Charlie, since she had been the last one to know.
“What’s down there, anyway?” said Charlie.
I shrugged. “I wish I could tell you, but . . .”
“You’ve never looked!” Charlie was incredulous.
“No, why would I do that? It’s creepy!” I said defensively.
“I mean sure, when your grandmother was alive it made sense not to look, it was her space, and if she didn’t give you permission it would have been an invasion of her privacy. But once you inherited the house . . . don’t you want to know what’s down there?” asked Charlie.
“No, not at all,” I said honestly.
“There could be buried treasure!” said Charlie, her eyes lighting up.
“It isn’t buried if it’s in the basement. Can we get on with this?” said Greer.
Charlie put the dish towel away and surveyed us. “We need shoes and a flashlight, then we’ll be ready.”
“The basement has lights,” said Greer.
“Yeah, but what if the power goes out? What if there are dark corners that the light doesn’t reach, and we’re like, ‘What’s that?’”
“Okay, crazy lady, I’ll find a flashlight,” said Greer. She searched through the drawers until she found one, and handed it to Charlie.
“Oh, no, I don’t want it. You keep it,” Charlie said, turning her nose up at the light. Greer rolled her eyes and kept the flashlight.
“We ready?” I said. We all nodded at each other. “Here goes nothing.”
The basement door creaked and groaned horribly as I pulled it open. Cobwebs met us, and Greer had to go grab the broom.
“I’m surprised you know where it is,” said Charlie.
“I sweep,” said Greer. “I swept my room just yesterday.”
Greer flipped the switch that turned the basement light on, and the depths of darkness and the scary basement floor were illuminated in a dim, ghostly glow.
“That’s not comforting at all,” Charlie muttered. Her hand was on my back, or I should say she had a claw-like grip on my shirt.
We moved slowly down the stairs, which made more noise than the door. Clouds of dust billowed up behind us as we went.
“Under no circumstances should you close that door,” Charlie cautioned Greer, who was the last to come down the stairs.
Charger looked on, but no way was he following us.
One light shone at our backs, and a dimmer one shone in front of us.
“Do you see anything?” Charlie asked.
No one answered right away.
My eyes scanned the gloom, but I couldn’t see anything but boxes stacked on boxes, dozens of old cardboard cartons that had clearly sustained water damage over the years. The damp wasn’t surprising given that the basement had a dirt floor. A few of the boxes were half open, and some had piles of what looked like clothes on top of them.
“It looks okay,” I said.
“You sound so convincing,” said Charlie.
“There are the garden tools,” I said. “My grandmother used to do what she called haphazard gardening. There was no plan, rhyme, or reason to it. Her only rule was not to garden over old graves.”
“That’s a good rule of green thumb,” said Greer.
“How are we ever going to look through all these boxes?” I said.
Charlie stayed on the bottom step as Greer moved past her. She handed me the broom but kept the flashlight.
“What do you
think your grandmother would keep her prized jewelry in?” said Greer, looking around the dark space. She pointed the flashlight into the corners, mostly just so Charlie would feel better.
“No sign of rats,” said Greer, patting Charlie on the shoulder.
“There better not be,” said Charlie.
I bit my lower lip, thinking hard. “Grandma used to keep a box. It was metal and it had gems stuck all over it. I remember being curious about it when I was little and watching her get ready for a night out. She used to call it her magic box. I had forgotten all about it until now, but I’d bet anything the jewelry’s in that.”
“I’m going to stand on the stairs and hold the flashlight,” said Charlie.
Greer and I got to work looking for the pretty box. We had been searching for a while when Greer said, “This isn’t working. There are too many boxes.”
Many of the boxes were taped shut, so we were opening them and digging through the most random assortment of junk. Charlie, as frustrated as we were, turned around and headed back up the stairs. We could hear her saying something to Charger about how lucky he was to get to stay in the kitchen.
“Where’d she go?” said Greer.
“No idea,” I said.
But she wasn’t gone long, and to my relief she returned with Paws.
“Still haven’t found it?” he asked. His was blinking sleepily. Charlie had awakened him.
“We could use some help,” I admitted.
“What’s in it for me?” asked the cat. All three of us glared at him, but it was Charlie who said, “I want out of this basement and I want out now. You better help or else!”
Grumbling about bossy humans, Paws got to work sniffing boxes. It wasn’t long before he was like, “Aha! This one!”
He was standing in a corner that we would have taken hours to work our way toward. “It’s the middle box,” he said. “I can see the magic.”
Sure you can, I thought.
Greer and I dug out the box, and sure enough, it was a lot heavier than the others.
“It looks like she has old sheets in here,” said Greer, sifting through the contents. Paws had gone back to the stairs and was rubbing against Charlie’s leg.
“Here it is!” Greer cried.
She stepped back and let me pull out my grandmother’s jewelry case. As I touched it I sensed a power flowing over my hands, warm and comforting. A hint of rosemary scented the air.
We quickly left the basement and planted ourselves in the kitchen nook. With my friends gathered around (Paws had gone back to sleep), I flipped open the lid.
“Wow,” said Charlie, peering into the box. “Look at all those lovely pieces.”
Most of the jewelry in the box I had never seen before. My grandmother had typically worn local trinkets she’d picked up at fairs, plus the green necklace. I had only rarely seen her wear anything else.
“Can we pick what we want?” said Charlie.
“Yes, I think so,” I said. Charlie chose a blue ring with a stone of modest size, while Greer picked out a metal bracelet with purple stones.
“Ghosts, here we come,” said Charlie.
Chapter Twelve
The next day was quiet. I spent it mostly reading old articles about Kayla’s disappearance.
Charlie was trying to write another article on the Kayla angle, because she wasn’t about to let anyone else at the Gazette scoop her story. It was bad enough when Hansen Gregory did it without her own colleagues getting a step ahead of her.
I had decided that my best bet for getting a look at what was in Kayla’s car was to go back and talk to her sister after the items were returned to her. The problem was, I wasn’t sure when that would happen. Kayla had told me that there hadn’t been much in the car that night, but I had started to wonder. Time was running short.
That afternoon Greer got the text she was dreading. We were going to have dinner with Deacon and Jasper that very evening, and there was no way for her to get out of it.
Deacon had his own house just on the edge of Mintwood. I had never been there, but Greer had spent a lot of time there before they broke up. I was looking forward to seeing it.
“This is going to be fun,” said Charlie.
All three of us had to get ready for the evening, naturally, but it was the first time since Charlie moved in that we all wanted to use the bathroom at once, so we took turns. Greer took such a long shower that there was barely any hot water left for Charlie and me, but we coped. Greer was clearly nervous; she hadn’t been back to Deacon’s place since they broke up.
I was nervous too, but in my own case I couldn’t quite figure out why, so I just kept getting ready. I had gone so far as to straighten my hair, and when that was finished I pulled out a tweed skirt and a comfortable sweater, put my brown boots on, and was ready to go.
“Did we all eat the same thing for lunch?” Greer asked, pressing her hand to her stomach. Her skin had taken on a slightly green color.
“The look of love,” Charlie murmured to me. Then, in answer to Greer’s question, she said, “Yeah, you cooked it.”
“I feel ill,” said Greer.
“That’s probably not the food,” said Charlie.
Greer was looking at my skirt with such consternation that I finally asked her what the problem was. “It’s just that you’re wearing a skirt,” she moaned. “Now I feel like I have to wear a skirt. If I don’t, he’ll see that as not trying as hard as you. But if I do, he’ll see that I’m trying as hard as you but he’ll think I started it. But you started it. But he won’t know that.”
“That sure is complicated,” said Charlie.
Greer let out a yell and walked back into the bathroom. “I’m so nervous.”
The three of us left with just enough time to get to Deacon’s without being late. In the end, Greer had decided to wear a nice pair of black jeans and a black top and had spent more time combing her hair than usual. Charlie, not trying to impress anyone and mostly owning dresses anyway, was wearing a cute casual dress, while I was still in my skirt.
Somehow, Paws knew he wasn’t coming with us. He had curled up on his box on the porch looking sleepy, and when we headed out he said, “You three go on and have fun now. Feel free to get in trouble without me.”
We rode in silence, except that I could just barely hear Greer tapping her foot or picking at her nail or coughing. Charlie was just starting to get annoyed when we finally got to Deacon’s. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Jasper’s truck already parked in the driveway next to Deacon’s, but I was.
Until that moment, I had managed to pretend that I wasn’t about to have dinner with Jasper and Deacon, but now the reality was hitting me and I felt as nervous as Greer looked.
Charlie, blissfully unaware of any anxiety, hopped out of the car and nearly skipped to the door. She didn’t even have to knock; it swung open just as she got there. I came next, while Greer was the slowest of all.
We had brought a bottle of wine, plus chocolate cake for dessert. Greer had cooked it that afternoon, grumbling the whole time that she wasn’t sure if we’d even have dinner. We were going to a guy’s house, after all, and she knew Deacon didn’t cook.
“Welcome,” Deacon said, grinning at us through the open door. His hair was pulled up in a bun and he wore jeans with a blue button down shirt and a hoodie over that. “Come in.”
Charlie walked into Deacon’s house as if she was examining a science project and was very excited about it. The Grates were wealthy, almost as wealthy as the Wolfs. Deacon had started working hard instead of going to college, and it showed. His house wasn’t that big, but it was very nice and well-kept. It had a sprawling lawn that looked like it was always mowed, and someone had already raked the leaves.
“Is that chocolate cake?” Deacon asked, excitement in his voice.
“Sure is,” said Greer as she handed it over.
The inside of the house looked well-appointed but comfortable. There was leather furniture to sit on, an
d wood coffee tables and wood floors. It wasn’t barren like a lot of guys’ places, and it also didn’t look like Deacon had had a woman design it for him.
“What are the paintings?” Charlie asked.
“My sister did them,” said Deacon. “She’s in New York City being an artist.”
“They’re beautiful,” said Charlie.
“Thank you! I’ll tell her you said so,” said Deacon. “This way to the kitchen.”
He let us into a room with patterned tile on the floor, walls painted light blue, and a black countertop. At the sink with his back to us was Jasper. He turned around and all three of us started laughing. He was wearing an apron.
“You didn’t think the food was gonna make itself, did you?”
“I thought Deacon was going to cook,” said Greer, sliding onto one of the island stools.
I set the bottle of wine on the table and sat down next to Greer. Deacon offered us drinks.
We had a great time. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed so much or so hard in such a short period of time. Deacon liked to tell stories about the crazy tenant he had to deal with, and we heard several. As a reporter, Charlie was familiar with a lot of the local characters’ names, and she loved the background information she heard from Deacon. Jasper sat back and relaxed, occasionally interrupting with a question or a story of his own. He was very laid back and made no mention of the barn or our evening canoe trip. Deacon didn’t mention the canoe trip either, and it was a good reminder for me that not everything had to be about work. I also thought about Jasper’s promise not to tear down the barn. He had lived up to that promise and then some. I felt like I should thank him, but I couldn’t exactly find the words, and this evening of companionship didn’t seem like the right time anyhow.
Witch Some Win Some (Witch of Mintwood Book 2) Page 8