Witch Some Win Some (Witch of Mintwood Book 2)

by Addison Creek

  At that, Charlie’s eyes darted to my hand. She took a deep breath, as if she were bracing for a large wave to hit her, then closed the fridge and went over to the breakfast nook, where Greer had sat down to look at the Chronicle.

  “Tell me everything! I can take it,” Charlie said, putting her hands over her eyes.

  Greer raised her eyebrows. “I need coffee for this.”

  “Lemmi, what took you so long?” said Charlie. “You’ve been gone for hours. I nearly went out to find the Chronicle myself. Why did an old guy in a truck bring you home? Is the Beetle okay? You should’ve called me!”

  I blushed. “Did you ask me enough questions in a row, or are there more coming? For your information, I stopped at Jasper’s other work site to say something to him, and the Beetle broke down just as I pulled up at the site.”

  “Just casually stopped by to see Jasper?” said Greer, cradling her coffee mug.

  “We’re friends. That’s what friends do,” I said, though I wasn’t so sure we’d be friends after today, not if his grandfather had anything to do with it.

  “And your car broke down?” said Charlie. “That’s so embarrassing.”

  “Yes, I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that you mention it . . .” I muttered.

  “Did you find Jasper?” said Greer.

  “Yes,” I said reluctantly. I wasn’t sure what to think of what had happened with his grandfather, so I told my friends about it in as few words as possible.

  “Wow, that’s really rude,” said Charlie. “You said he and your grandmother had a bad history?”

  I shrugged. “Grandma never explained what the problem was, she just told me to stay away from the Wolfs. Jasper’s grandfather told him the same thing, so I don’t think Jasper’s been telling him we hang out.”

  “Oh, now you and Jasper hang out?” said Greer.

  “Yeah, I think that’s what you call having dinner,” said Charlie.

  “We all had dinner as friends. It’s not that crazy,” I said, squirming. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “I still want to know what went on between his grandfather and your grandmother; it’s the reporter in me. But okay, it can wait,” said Charlie.

  Once the three of us had our coffee and were sitting in the breakfast nook window, Charlie took the newspaper and started to read. The front page, above-the-fold, color headline and article were indeed about the Kayla Caldwell story, complete with a picture of the tow truck guy standing in front of his truck.

  “What did they find in the car?” I asked Greer.

  Charlie made a grumbling noise. She wasn’t going to work that day, and for a workaholic that was tantamount to resting. She had never NOT gone to work before. She was just going to try and get through it.

  “They found Kayla’s purse, which had, get this, lipstick, a mirror, and a wallet with a ten dollar bill in it,” said Greer. “That’s pretty much all that was inside. The only other thing was a pen that said Hayfield Bank on it. Hansen’s basically using this article as an excuse to delve back into the Kayla Caldwell mystery. He’s reviewing all the old articles that said she disappeared and ran off to Vegas, and stating that those old theories clearly aren’t true. No one is saying whether they thought foul play was involved, but obviously the system twenty-five years ago failed to find her, despite her sister’s insistence all these years that she would never have run away. Gregory also states that her sister declined an interview with the Chronicle.”

  At that Charlie raised both arms over her head in triumph.

  “Finally, some good news,” she said.

  “What was Hayfield Bank?” I said.

  “It was a local banking chain that got taken over years ago,” said Charlie. “I don’t know what it would have to do with her disappearance.”

  “Maybe Kayla had gone there for proof of the missing money,” I said, “and she ended up with a pen instead.”

  “Yeah, that could be,” said Greer.

  “It’s a decent article,” said Charlie. “Nothing special.”

  Greer and I both examined the wonderful view of the back yard. The open space behind the house, near Charlie’s bedroom, was where Mrs. Goodkeep had always spent her time, and whenever I saw it I was reminded of her.

  Mrs. Goodkeep, who was in trouble with the other ghosts for using a human to threaten another human, had not returned to the farmhouse. Paws had assured me it wouldn’t be long before she was back again to grace us with her presence. She wouldn’t be gone forever, he insisted, only as long as her punishment lasted. I had to admit, it was kind of nice without her.

  “How did the rest of Main Street look when you got the paper?” Greer asked.

  That set us talking about the downtown and how worried we were about the competition, and about Liam should he lose. While we talked, Charlie picked up the Caedmon Chronicle and separated the front page from the rest, obviously trying to do it without inspiring commentary from Greer and me. She folded the front page carefully, got up and slipped off to her room, and came back without it. I was willing to pretend not to notice, but Greer sure wasn’t.

  “What are you doing there?” asked Greer, raising her eyebrows.

  Charlie froze as she came back out of her room. “Have to keep an eye on the competition. It was that or burn it.”

  Greer snorted and turned back to me. “So the rest of downtown looked good?”

  I nodded dejectedly. Everyone was working frantically to make the best display, and they were all doing a darn good job. Clearly, there was broad agreement that winning the display competition was worth everything they could throw at it.

  “Since I’m not working today, maybe tonight we can go downtown and check out the competition,” said Charlie.

  Then we started talking about the Kayla Caldwell mystery.

  “We aren’t going to find out who ran Kayla off the road if we don’t find out who she thought was embezzling from the town.”

  “I don’t think she knew who was embezzling, but she knew that something was off with the books,” I said. “If I had to bet, Mrs. Luke knew who it was, and in fact I’m wondering if it wasn’t Mrs. Luke herself. That would explain why she showed up at Mary’s and took the boxes away, and it would also explain why she won’t talk to us about it. She has to keep the secret even after all these years, precisely because it was a secret about her.”

  Charlie and Greer nodded thoughtfully.

  Could Mrs. Luke have run Kayla off the road and sealed the poor girl’s watery fate?

  Chapter Sixteen

  I had finally managed to get my mind off the awkward encounter with Jasper and his grandfather when the awkward encounter himself came driving up the driveway.

  “Someone’s here,” Paws yelled.

  I saw my Beetle’s headlights and dashed out of my chair. I was halfway through the living room when I realized that I wasn’t wearing sneakers and my hair was a mess, so I changed course, dashed upstairs (taking them two at a time), grabbed some socks, and quickly pulled a brush through my hair. Then – back downstairs.

  The car and the truck following it were just parking. Greer and Charlie were in the living room laughing at me.

  “I’m so glad I have friends,” I said.

  “We are too,” said Charlie, grinning.

  Jasper got out of my Beetle. Jasper was driving my Beetle – I repeated that in my head several times, trying to get my mind around it, but I just couldn’t. Never in my life would I have let him do that. (Have you seen my backseat? You want to talk about embarrassing things.)

  Out of the truck jumped Deacon, because of course.

  Now Greer was groaning. “Why did your car have to break down? If it hadn’t, none of this would’ve happened,” she said.

  “I’m glad you’re so relaxed about him,” Charlie drawled.

  I had thought that since Jasper’s grandfather didn’t approve of me, it would never be Jasper returning my car . . . yet another fantasy I was wrong about.


  I went to the front door and opened it just as Jasper and Deacon reached the porch.

  “Evening,” I said.

  “We brought your car back,” said Deacon, grinning.

  “Thanks so much,” I said. “Want to come in?”

  From inside I heard Greer groan.

  “Yeah, we can’t stay long, but we’ll come in for a minute,” said Jasper.

  Charlie and Greer had quickly tried to arrange themselves in a formation that didn’t make it look like they’d been eavesdropping. I thought they were pretty successful. Charlie was sitting by the fire although not close enough so that she was sweating, because she hated sweating. Greer was coming out of the kitchen as if she’d been there the whole time.

  “Thanks for returning my car,” I said. “Sorry about earlier.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m sorry. I told my grandfather that whatever went on between him and your grandmother had nothing to do with us. He was still mad, but I don’t care, actually,” said Jasper, shaking his head.

  “Its fine,” I said.

  “What did you want to talk to me about earlier, anyhow?” he asked.

  Charlie motioned for the two men to sit, but they declined. Deacon had meant it when he said they weren’t staying. I racked my brain for what I’d wanted to talk to Jasper about, but with everything else on my mind I was blanking on what it had been. Great, I thought, now it looked like I had just stopped at Jasper’s work site using an excuse that I now couldn’t even remember. Jasper could read on my face that I was struggling, so he smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it. If it comes to you again, feel free to stop by. My grandfather isn’t usually around.”

  “Great,” I said. As soon as I said it, it sounded like I was happy that his grandfather was never around. In fact I was, but that’s not what I meant.

  I decided I’d better just keep quiet, since every time I opened my mouth I dug myself a deeper hole. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Jasper was taking it that way.

  This was the second time Jasper had been in my living room. The first time I had been nervous because we were on opposite sides of the barn issue, but now I had to admit to myself that it had been more than that; I was nervous now, too, and the barn was no longer an issue. In fact, my heart was fluttering wildly. I simultaneously wanted the interaction to end so that my heart would stop going wild, and wanted it to never end.

  “Greer, how are you?” said Deacon.

  “Great,” said Greer. “How are you?”

  “Great,” said Deacon.

  Charlie and I exchanged glances.

  “How are things going with Liam’s storefront?” asked Jasper.

  “They’re going fine, but they could be going a lot better. He can’t find some of the items he wants to display,” I said.

  “That’s too bad,” said Jasper. “If I know one thing about Liam, though, he’ll figure it out and come out on top.”

  “That’s true,” Deacon put in. “Liam has a long history of success. Remember in high school someone bet him he couldn’t design his prom suit in twenty-four hours and win best dressed? He showed them.” Deacon smiled at the memory.

  “I had forgotten about that. Didn’t he use duct tape or something?” said Greer.

  “Yeah, multicolored duck tape. He stayed up all night and came to the prom swaying from tiredness, but he won. He said he’d enlisted the help of his sister,” said Deacon. “No way he did that on his own, but I couldn’t do it at all, so there’s that.”

  “What we’re saying is that he’s definitely going to figure it out, even if it’s at the midnight hour,” said Jasper.

  Deacon glanced outside and said, with a heavy sigh, “We should probably get going.”

  After the guys said their goodbyes and the truck drove away, Charlie, Greer, and I looked at each other.

  “I hope they’re right about Liam,” said Charlie.

  “I had forgotten that story from high school. I hope they’re right, too,” I said.

  We were getting nowhere finding Francesca Holly’s dresses. Liam had talked to the Mintwood historian with no luck, and we weren’t sure what else to try. As Liam had suspected, getting the loan of one of the dresses already in a private collection was not an option. To combat these setbacks, my friends and I decided to take a stroll downtown to see how the competition was faring.

  Since we were all going downtown, it made the most sense for everyone to go with me to Vertigo’s first. That included Paws.

  “I’m not doing any investigating, so I don’t see why you have to come,” I said. But Paws was already in the car. Arguing was futile, I knew that from experience, but I still felt better making the attempt.

  On the drive to the Stumps’, the Beetle started sputtering and coughing as if it had awakened from a long sleep and wasn’t happy about it. I slowed down but didn’t pull over. “You need a new car,” said Greer. She patted the Beetle. “We’ll let you go back to bed soon, old girl.”

  “This girl is just fine,” I said, patting the dashboard myself and glaring at Greer. I didn’t know what Jasper’s mechanic had done, but the car now seemed to be working better than it had been. Kind of. “I don’t have the money, I don’t have a dime of the money. How dare you not have faith in her! I have just as little money as I have ideas about how to help Liam with the costumes.”

  I had told my friends that there was a ghost I needed to speak to while I walked the dog. Paws was unhappy – about a lot of things, as it happened – and it wasn’t in his nature to hide. “First,” he said, “you try to talk to a ghost without me, and one who clearly has a problem, because he or she is going around the woods day and night yelling. Second, a dog?”

  “I’m a pet sitter,” I said. “As it happens, the most common animal for families to own is a dog. The reason for this is that dogs are great. Just because you don’t think so doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  The four of us made our way into the woods with Vertigo. This time I kept him on a leash, because it was nighttime and I didn’t want him running off, even if I was pretty sure he’d come back eventually.

  As we walked through the woods, I saw several other ghosts heading away from the direction in which we were moving. They looked annoyed and were shaking their heads. When they spotted me, their eyes widened in surprise.

  “It’s awfully dark out here,” said Charlie.

  “Its night,” said Greer.

  “We’ll be fine,” I said to Charlie. My friend didn’t look convinced, but she kept going.

  The noise was stronger this time, but with my friends there I didn’t feel as afraid as I had when I was alone. We headed in the direction of the wailing until we came upon a clearing that was sheltered from the surrounding woods by a dense band of scrub. In the center of the clearing, on a large old log, sat a very disgruntled-looking ghost.

  She was wearing clothes from the Victorian era, including a fancy hat, and she glanced up as we entered her secret grove. She looked cold and very upset, and seeing me didn’t help. She started yelling something like, “Where are my trunks! Did you take my trunks! How dare you take my trunks! I want my trunks back! Give them back!”

  “Trunks?” I said. This only served to further enrage the woman.

  Before I could do or say anything else, she had disappeared from the log and reappeared at my shoulder, still yelling about her trunks. Then she disappeared and reappeared on my other side. Then she disappeared entirely.

  I stood there for a few seconds, stunned, then made myself take several deep breaths. The dark woods rang with silence, and I found myself wishing I hadn’t come out here at all. The ghost was gone, but I knew she wouldn’t be gone for long. Angry ghosts often stayed away from the person they were angry at, but this ghost had done the opposite, continuing to holler and yell at her victim.

  I kept my eyes peeled and hoped that if she was going to attack anyone, she would attack me and not my friends, because they hadn’t brought their jewelry and they couldn’t even see her. Of
course, it was hard for ghosts to hurt humans, but it could happen, and I had to wonder: what could possibly make a ghost so angry?

  The next instant the ghost reappeared in front of me, wildly trying to kick the leaves from the ground up into my face. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t easily able to move real objects (a few ghosts could churn up enough wind to blow a window closed, but that was about it), so it was only a way for her to take out her frustration. I had to admit, she looked rather silly in her fancy dress, which was to be honest very beautiful, almost but not quite kicking up leaves.

  After a few more minutes of ranting and yelling, and trying to pry a branch off a tree – an effort that also, unsurprisingly, failed – she sat back down. She managed it with aplomb and decorum, but her face was still flushed with anger.

  Luckily – and I’ll be honest, this was the first time I had ever thought this about my cat – Paws was there to come to the rescue. He trotted right up to the woman and jumped in her lap. She was so surprised that she started cooing and patting his head gently. “Always cute, and you’re wearing such a pretty necklace. I did always love cats.”

  “Sorry to bother you,” I said, trying to get her attention. “I just keep hearing you in the woods when I’m walking a dog named Vertigo, and I wondered if there was anything I could do to help you.”

  “Cats are the best,” she cooed, still petting Paws as if she was soothing him and not the other way around.

  “They really are,” said Paws.

  The woman smiled down at the shameless animal and kept petting him, while he looked at me smugly, his green collar sparkling. Greer and Charlie were missing this scene; they had made themselves scarce by continuing to walk Vertigo while I talked to the ghost they couldn’t see. Vertigo was desperate for exercise and my friends were nervous about the crazy old ghost lady.

  “Maybe it’s best if you tell me about your trunks,” I said. “Then I can try to help.”

  “I can tell you about them as long as you don’t want to steal them,” she said.

  It turned out that ghosts, from Mrs. Goodkeep to this woman, were very possessive. That was one of the big takeaways from my first few months as the Witch of Mintwood.