My car sputtered again on the way home. Going up the last hill it shook angrily, and for a split second I wasn’t sure we’d make it. But we did.
Then, as if we hadn’t had enough excitement for one day, when we got inside the farmhouse we could hear Charlie banging around in her room. Both of us hurried back there to make sure she was all right.
Charlie was fine, but her bedroom was a disaster. She had torn it apart. There was mess everywhere, in a very un-Charlie-like fashion.
“What happened?” I said.
Charlie, who was still wearing her work clothes – a pencil skirt, a blouse, and a jacket, all in a deep shade of green – looked up and rolled her eyes. “Andy wants me to get the rest of my stuff, so I’m going to do it, but that means I need space here. So I’m making space.” She glared angrily at a box as though if she looked hard enough it would run away.
Greer and I weren’t the only ones who had noticed that something was amiss inside the farmhouse. All of Charlie’s windows overlooking the back yard were crowded with ghosts. Paws was hopping up above the bottom of the sill so that sometimes his face was visible, but then it would disappear back below the windowsill until Mr. Bone took pity on him and picked him up.
“I told you we had plenty of space here,” I said. “There’s are three whole rooms upstairs that no one is using.” If anyone ever wanted the definition of a rambling farmhouse, they should come to my place.
“I know you said that,” said Charlie. “I just needed something to do, I mean, he’s dating someone!”
Charger, who had been watching Charlie with concern, now came over to bury his head against Greer’s knee. I had the distinct impression that he was relieved to see her.
The dog also reminded me of something. “I forgot to check on Vertigo,” I said, slapping my forehead.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Greer offered. It was dark outside, and yes, I would have liked her company. But I didn’t think Charlie should be left alone, for the room’s sake if nothing else. I told Greer I’d be fine and headed back to the Beetle.
At least Paws was coming along.
As usual for a Mintwood evening, the roads were empty, so I had an uneventful drive over. But I was much later than usual, and Vertigo was frantic by the time I arrived. I tried to put the dog on a leash, but he was so excited it was pointless. I just let him run and he took off. His owners, the Stumps, had insisted that I carry a flashlight with me, and I thought that was an acceptable choice for someone alone in the woods at night.
“That may not have been such a good idea,” Paws commented.
“He needs the exercise,” I huffed. “It hasn’t been a problem so far.”
“Are you dog-sitting? Do you see a dog right now? I think the problem is clear,” said Paws.
“If someone ever asked me to pet sit for you I’d say no,” I told him, heading in the direction in which Vertigo had gone.
It was only when he ran away that he made it so far I couldn’t catch up. Now, in the dark, I trudged through the woods hoping I’d find him. Calling his name didn’t work, and I was getting more and more creeped out and more concerned that Frances would show up. But so far there was no sign of her.
We had walked for a while through the silent wood and I had started to worry a bit about how alone we were. The lights of downtown Mintwood were far away. There was no sign of Vertigo anywhere.
“There’s a house!” said Paws.
“Where? I don’t see anything,” I said, looking around.
“I can smell it,” said Paws, sniffing. “Let’s go.”
The cat trotted further into the woods and I rolled my eyes. Now I was chasing two animals in the forest.
But Paws wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t walked far when I came upon a small, cozy-looking house with a chimney piping out smoke and lights blazing warmly into the night.
The cottage looked so cozy I decided to knock on the door. Vertigo had now been missing for a long time, and I needed to find him. My pet sitting business would be over if I lost the Stumps’ dog, and I was hoping that the cottage folks had heard him barking, or seen him run by.
As I walked up to the door I could see, through a gap in the curtains, a woman reading by the fire. She looked to be about the same age as Mrs. Barnett. I realized that this might not be the best idea, but I thought it was worth a try.
I knocked. After no time at all I heard a voice on the other side of the door saying, “Who is it?”
“My name is Lemmi and I’m looking for a dog,” I said. I saw the curtains next to the door brush a bit as if the woman was checking my story. She must’ve decided I looked harmless, because she opened the door.
“Oh, dear. I haven’t seen him. How do you lose a dog all the way out here?” she said.
“He always runs off, but he’s been gone longer than usual,” I said, hoping this tale didn’t get back to the Stumps. They’d never let me watch the dog again if I lost him, even temporarily. They had warned me that he liked to run off, and I had promised myself that I’d keep him in sight. Two-year-old black lab in sight, fat chance. But I hadn’t worried about it too much, because in the past he had always come back.
“I’m Ms. Buxton,” said the woman. I looked down at my cat, who was looking up at me, both of us clearly thinking the same thing. Was this a relation of the Mr. Buxton of the Caedmon Town Office, Kayla’s boss at the time of her disappearance?
“Where do you live, dear? Would you like to come in?” Ms. Buxton said.
“I really should keep looking for Vertigo, but I’ll come in for just a minute. I don’t want you to be losing all your heat out the front door while I stand here.”
It was a common issue in New England that once the weather got cold and the heat was turned on, whether it was heat from a wood stove or heat you controlled with a thermostat, it became of the utmost importance not to leave doors hanging open.
I followed Ms. Buxton into her cozy and rustic living room. Blankets were draped over the couch, and the two chairs that sat by the fire were done in a soft, brown fabric. There was an oval rug set in the central open space, and on top of it was a coffee table that held a steaming mug of cocoa, filled to the brim with marshmallows.
I liked this woman already.
I told her where I lived and about my pet sitting job. She told me she didn’t have any pets that she could hire me to sit for, but if that ever changed she’d let me know. Given her age, she didn’t think it would. Her brother used to have a cat that she had taken over when he died, but after the cat also died, she hadn’t gotten another one. She wasn’t fond of the creatures. Good thing I had left Paws outside to keep searching for Vertigo. The cat was probably more equipped to find the dog than I was anyway.
“Thank you,” I said, as Mr. Buxton motioned me to one of the chairs opposite the blazing fire.
“I love visitors. I wish I had them more often, but I’m pretty far out in the woods. Most of my friends live in Caedmon. I’ve always like Mintwood better, though. Don’t tell them I said so.” She smiled at me.
“How about that car in the lake?” I said casually. It was the news of the day, after all.
I had expected her to have a bad reaction to my question; I was getting used to bad reactions, Mrs. Luke being the prime example. But Ms. Buxton just sighed and glanced down at her hot chocolate.
“My brother was Kayla’s boss,” she said. “He said she worked very hard. He was so relieved when they hired her! They had been trying to hire someone competent for months, but they hadn’t had any luck. He couldn’t believe she was only a secretary, but he didn’t think she had the money for college. He thought her talents were wasted. She was very good at her job. That’s what he always said.” Her face had taken on a sad expression, and I tried to look sympathetic. There was something else she wasn’t saying.
“I know he passed away. I’m sorry.”
She gave another sigh. “Yes, shortly after Kayla disappeared. He was devastated by it. I had never seen a man
so upset for so long. In fact, he was upset until the day he died. It was all a very strange business, but I suppose when you work closely with someone and then they pass away, it’s hard to get over.”
“Did you say pass away?” I said.
Ms. Buxton nodded. “Yes, my brother was convinced that she had died, and he was that distraught about it. He never believed the story that she went to Vegas. In fact, he fixed it so that her sister would get money every month, because he felt so badly about it. He asked me if I minded, since I was his heir, and I told him of course not. I have a good job, and I thought what he was doing for Mary Caldwell was exceptionally kind and thoughtful. So he did it.”
My mind was a jumble of thoughts. Mary Caldwell hadn’t mentioned that she’d been receiving money every month since her sister’s death. That was information someone looking into the disappearance of Kayla Caldwell should know! I told myself that maybe Mary had thought it was Kayla herself sending it, or a part of her had hoped as much, but that since that contradicted her belief that her sister had died, she didn’t want anyone to know.
I had wondered how she’d managed to live in her apartment alone when she’d had Kayla to share the rent before, and this might explain how she had managed it. Mr. Buxton had felt guilty, and he hadn’t believed in the disappearance theory. How strange! Maybe he had known the lengths to which Mrs. Luke was willing to go to keep her secret embezzlement just that: a secret.
After a few more minutes of chatting, I apologized and said that I really had to be getting along with my hunt for Vertigo. I did it mostly because Paws was climbing a tree outside Ms. Buxton’s window, a sure sign that he shouldn’t be left alone any longer.
Ms. Buxton led me out and asked me to come again soon. “I get so few visitors, and it’s been lovely to chat.”
“Vertigo and I will stop by again for sure,” I said. I liked Ms. Buxton, and I wished I had found her sooner. I couldn’t believe I had just tumbled on her house in the woods and she turned out to be Mr. Buxton’s sister, with crucial information to boot. But my investigation still wouldn’t be complete until Mrs. Luke talked to me, and I still didn’t know how I was going to make that happen.
When I got outside, Vertigo was waiting patiently under the tree that Paws happened to be sitting in. The usually happy lab looked miserable, and I could only assume it was because he’d had an encounter with a terrifying ghost cat.
As I returned Vertigo to the Stumps’, I told myself that at least I could be glad Frances hadn’t shown up to yell at me some more. That was one ghost down, for now.
Chapter Nineteen
I decided to stop at the lake on the way home to see if Kayla was around. I wanted to update her on my progress and remind her that I hadn’t forgotten about her. But I was so focused on talking to Kayla that I had forgotten that a certain someone spent his evenings at the barn. When I saw the light on in the loft, I almost didn’t turn in, but then I made myself do it.
I strolled down to the water’s edge and walked back and forth for a few minutes looking for Kayla, but she was nowhere to be found. I was just about to give up when I heard the barn door open and close, and when I turned around, Jasper was looking at me curiously. He waved and grinned and I trotted up the slope, trying not to look like I had just been standing on his property staring out at the water – again.
“Incoming,” said Paws, appearing out of the darkness.
“Why don’t you go to the car and wait for me there?” I said through gritted teeth.
“I’m not that dumb,” said Paws. “I’d like to meet him.”
“The day you meet Jasper Wolf . . .” I sputtered.
“Your grandmother certainly wouldn’t approve. I would’ve told her if she were still here,” said Paws.
“I’m sure you would have. Disloyal even after all I’ve done for you,” I said.
“He’s a Wolf,” said the cat, as if that explained everything. “And she isn’t here, if I might point that out once again.”
The cat had said things like this before, and I knew he meant something beyond what he was saying, but darned if I knew what. Why couldn’t he just speak plain English? Was there a special language for ghost cat I didn’t know?
Jasper held a roll of what I assumed were building plans under his arm. His teeth flashed in greeting, all the brighter in the darkness as he teased, “You really can’t get enough of this place, can you? I should charge you rent.”
I tried to laugh, mostly to give myself time to come up with a good excuse for being at the barn, but I couldn’t think of one. I could only hope he wouldn’t ask a direct question about what I was actually doing there. Then, just as we fell into step to walk back to our vehicles, I saw Kayla among the reeds. She waved discreetly, but we both knew we had missed our chance to talk that night. I was talking to Jasper Wolf instead.
I really hoped my grandmother would forgive me.
Just then it struck me, as Jasper and I walked side by side in companionable silence, that I really didn’t know a lot about the man. I had known about the boy we all went to high school with, the myth in the legend, the guy who turned the heads of girls that even Deacon couldn’t turn. But was the man someone else entirely?
Jasper Wolf was the only son of Dylan Wolf, Jr., who was himself the son of the prosperous realtor and developer Dylan Wolf, Sr. Jasper’s father had been driving in a snowstorm one night and the car in the opposite lane had skidded, hitting Jasper’s father’s car and the driver’s side door. Jasper was eleven when he went to live with his grandfather, who was known far and wide as the most successful real estate developer in the area. He loved building things, and it appeared that Jasper shared that love.
Jasper had taken AP classes in high school, though he was never at the top of the class. Of course, no one could really complete with Charlie Silver, extraordinary academic star that she was. But Jasper played three sports – football, basketball, and baseball. He was good at all of them, but he was the star of the football team. Under his leadership the team won nearly every game throughout his four years of high school.
Jasper also had an older sister who had already been at boarding school when their father died. I had never met her, and come to think of it, I didn’t think I had even ever seen her. I knew Jasper was very close with his grandfather and I knew that his grandfather didn’t like my grandmother, but I still had no idea why. The only person who might be able to explain it to me at this point was Dylan Wolf, Sr., and I had a feeling that he and I were never going to talk about that – or anything else.
That about summed up my knowledge of Jasper and his family. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t know much else about the Wolfs.
“I can give you a tour sometime if you’d like,” said Jasper.
“Of what?” I said. I had been so lost in thought I wasn’t sure what Jasper was talking about.
“You’re always hanging around the barn, I figure the least I can do is give you a tour,” he said. “Lots of people are curious about what’s happening on the inside, but we haven’t let anybody in yet. Some sort of grand opening party is in order, but we haven’t figured that out either. Maybe I can hire Liam to do the decorating. I’m just saying that you can see it anytime,” he said.
I made a mental note that he had said Liam and not Lindsay.
“Thanks, that’d be great,” I said. “I really like what you’ve done with the outside. The silos look amazing.”
Jasper grimaced. “I haven’t gotten to the insides of the silos yet. They need the most work. We’re still not sure if we can save them, so I’m working on the rest first. They are beautiful, though, aren’t they?”
I agreed that they were beautiful.
“Isn’t this more fun?” he said suddenly.
I looked around and up at the black and starry sky. The evening was cold but comfortable. And I did prefer to have a strong man with broad shoulders return me to my car as opposed to walking to it by myself. “It’s a nice night,” I said.
> Jasper chuckled. “That isn’t what I meant. I meant, isn’t it nice to talk to me like a person and not treat me like some corporate suit who’s ruining your favorite late-night destination?”
Not that I wanted to tell Jasper this, but ever since the first time we had talked I had stopped thinking about him as a corporate suit. Still, maybe it was best to keep the man on his toes, especially when I wore unflattering sweaters like the one I had on now.
“This is much better,” I said. “I love getting what I want.”
His eyes widened in surprise, then he chuckled. “Right, you saved the barn. I’m glad.”
A tingling raced up my spine. Jasper was glad I had fought with him? Really? All this time I imagined he thought I was just some annoying nobody from high school.
You still planning on coming to the bonfire?”
“I am. I just hope Liam makes it until then,” I said. None of us believed that he was actually going to give in. His display was beautiful, and he wanted to win too badly. At least, I hoped he did.
Jasper’s voice filled with concern. “He’s pretty focused on winning?”
“He wants to win so badly,” I said. “We’re trying to help him, but we’re not a whole gallery of artists.” The time had come, and I couldn’t help it. I had to fish around about the Lindsay topic. Yes, she was a whole topic, and depending on what he said in the next few minutes, she might be a whole category.
“If I had to bet on one or the other, I’d bet on Liam,” said Jasper.
“I’d offer to make a bet with you, but it sounds like we’d both be betting on the same person,” I said as I reached the Beetle. “Unless you want the Artist’s Art Gallery to win . . .”
Witch Some Win Some (Witch of Mintwood Book 2) Page 13