For a moment, no one answered. Finally, Poe spoke up. “Well, yeah, but we can’t just go sneaking into the woman’s house.”
“We don’t have to,” Ellie replied. “I have a key.” She grabbed her purse from its spot on the floor and fished around inside it. After a minute she pulled out a single silver key from its depths. “Edith gave this to me last month when she went away to her sister’s place for a week. She made me go inside and turn on different lights at different times of the day so people wouldn’t think the house was empty.”
Mischa raised one eyebrow. “She must have actually liked you,” she said to Ellie.
“Nah. She just knew I wasn’t going to steal anything. And I did bring her burgers now and then when the weather was bad and she couldn’t get out to the store.” She blushed when she realized her friends were staring at her in amazement. “What? It was just the decent thing to do. Besides, I kind of thought maybe she wouldn’t be so hateful to everybody if someone was nice to her.”
“Yeah, that didn’t work too well, did it?” Poe asked. “I mean, she was still pretty irritable from what I saw.”
“Ellie was right. We should have been nicer to her,” Mischa said. “I feel awful about it now. I mean, she lived all by herself. It’s not like she had anyone to help her out with stuff. Maybe if we’d have been nicer to her she wouldn’t have ended up dying all alone like that.” She sniffed back a tear.
“Okay, no more wine for you,” Poe said, wagging one bony finger at Mischa. “Have you forgotten how she used to yell at your kids any time they walked too close to the edge of her yard? And what about the time she threatened the mailman for delivering my mail to her accidentally? The poor guy nearly crashed his truck trying to get away from the woman.”
“Okay, okay--she was no saint. But Ellie has a point. Edith was probably only hateful because no one took the time to get to know her and appreciate her.” Mischa sighed. “Not even her own sister visited her, apparently.”
“I visited her,” Raven reminded them. “And don’t worry, I kept my mouth shut. I’d like to think that my sacrifice was a worthy one,” the cat yawned. “I mean, I did put up with her craziness more than anyone else.”
“Yeah, but she was feeding your furry little face,” Poe reminded him. “So it wasn’t completely selfless, was it?”
“So should we go over to Edith’s house and take a look at this painting?” Ellie asked, waving the key in the air once again.
“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” Mischa’s eyes widened. “I can’t get arrested. I have a PTA meeting in the morning and lunches to pack.”
Poe stood. She was only a little wobbly from the wine. “Nobody’s getting arrested. We’ll just sneak in the back door--”
“I only have a front door key,” Ellie advised her. “So everybody act sober and non-suspicious.”
Mischa crossed her arms. “I am sober. But I don’t think this is a good idea. What if someone sees us?”
“We’ll just tell them that we were feeding her cat,” Poe declared.
“She didn’t have a cat,” Mischa replied pointedly.
“Didn’t she?” Poe returned, glaring at Raven.
“Don’t use me in your emotional tug of war, people,” he mewled before proceeding to clean one paw. “Wait,” he said, mid-lick. “Do I have to come with you?”
“Well, to make our cover story more convincing,” Ellie began, but the cat’s groan drowned her out.
“The things I do for you witches! I swear, you never ask Cleo to do these things.”
“That’s because we’re afraid of her,” Ellie whispered loudly. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Oh, you know her. She’s probably off eating the souls of the damned or something,” Raven replied. “Now, are we gonna do this thing or not?”
Poe eyed her cat suspiciously. “You’ve changed your tune pretty quickly. Why are you suddenly willing to help us?”
“Uh, hellooo! Didn’t you hear what I said about kippers? We can grab some while we’re there. It will totally make your cover story more authentic,” he assured her, stretching his slightly overweight body across the couch cushion.
“I’m not sure about this,” Mischa began, but Ellie cut her off.
“We’ll be fine. We’ll be in and out in five minutes. I just have a strong feeling we need to go take a look inside that house. Call it a hunch, but something tells me that there’s a clue to Edith’s death somewhere in there.”
Mischa pulled her cardigan around herself more tightly and followed her friends, pausing only long enough to pick up Raven from the couch. “Come on, Raven. I guess we’re all in this together,” she sighed and slipped out into the cold December evening.
Chapter Five
Edith Whitlow’s house was fully dark. The electricity worked--the clock on the microwave told them that much--but the witches argued over whether or not they should turn on a light.
“If we’re feeding her cat, we’d need to be able to see to do it, right?” Ellie reasoned. “Besides, you guys won’t be able to see that painting in the dark. It’s pretty awful, actually. I mean, who values a picture of two cats smoking cigars and playing cards at a quarter of a million dollars?” She shook her head. “Crazy.”
“But if someone sees a light on, they’re going to know we’re in here snooping around,” Mischa pointed out.
“That’s why we brought the cat, though--he’s our alibi.” Poe snapped her fingers and a tiny flame appeared at the end of her fingertip. Raven’s eyes reflected the flames like two tiny mirrors.
“I say leave the light off,” said the cat. “I can see just fine without it.”
Reluctantly, Mischa and Ellie produced their own finger-flames. “Just don’t forget and touch anything,” Mischa reminded them. “The last thing we need is to become accidental arsonists.”
“That sounds like a great band name,” Poe murmured, spinning around with her finger held aloft.
The house was fairly drab in its decor, with walls the color of eggshell and carpet the color of sand. They were standing at the bottom of a set of stairs leading off a hallway that led to what Ellie informed them was bedrooms and a bathroom. Opposite the stairs was the kitchen, which itself opened onto a small dining area. The living room could just be glimpsed beyond the dining area.
“This is a lot of house for a single old woman,” Mischa commented. “I wonder why she wanted so much space when she lived alone?”
“She probably didn’t plan on being alone. Nobody does, but life just happens, I guess.” Poe spoke with certainty and sadness.
No one spoke for a few moments as they peered through the darkness at the remnants of a lonely woman’s life. There were numerous bookcases and shelves filled to the brim with bricabrac and collectible figurines in the dining room. The kitchen was spotless and the floors were bare, save for a small plastic bowl that still had some kibble in it. Raven scurried over to it and began nibbling at the food.
The witches made their way to the living room. “The painting’s in here,” Ellie told them. “I had to turn the lamp in the living room on every morning before I left for work when I house sat,” she explained.
The flames on Mischa’s and Poe’s fingers illuminated the look of confusion that settled on Ellie’s face. “Well, it was in here. But it’s not here anymore.”
A rectangular mark on the wall, lighter than the rest of the wall, marked the spot where the painting had hung. “Do you think it’s already been boxed up for auction?” Poe asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ellie admitted. “I would have thought that they would have taken everything at once, though, and nothing else seems to be missing.”
The three women were too focused on trying to figure out what had happened to the missing painting to hear the footsteps on the laminate flooring behind them.
“Well, now,” said a voice that each of them recognized but didn’t immediately place. “Isn’t this delightfully awkward?”
Seneca Wolfram sto
od in the doorway with her arms crossed. A flashlight dangled from her wrist, but they didn’t need any light to see her face illuminated by the moon shining in the window.
She smiled at them in the darkness. “Hello, ladies. Do you mind if I ask what you’re doing in here?”
Chapter Six
There was a quick scuffling of feet and hands as each witch quickly extinguished her flames. Mischa gasped in horror as Poe held her still flaming hand aloft and gave a little wave to Seneca. Poe blew her fingertip, extinguishing the flame.
Seneca disappeared in the darkness for a moment, then her flashlight beam flooded the room with light. “Are you smoking in here?” she asked, pointing the light in Poe’s eyes.
“No,” Poe replied, sheepishly brandishing a cigarette lighter that she’d managed to pull seemingly from thin air. “Just didn’t want to turn on all the lights. We’re here to feed Edith’s cat,” she added quickly.
“I wasn’t aware of a cat,” Seneca replied, shining her flashlight around the room quickly. Its beam landed on Raven, who had followed Poe into the living room after finishing off his kibble.
“I told Edith I’d take care of him if anything ever happened to her,” Poe lied, scooping the hefty black cat up in her arms. He struggled a little and opened his mouth as if to say something, but Poe clamped her hand over it. “We were looking all over for him,” she added. “Guess we’ll be going now.”
“Why did all of you have to come over here?” Seneca asked, narrowing her eyes. “Maybe I’d better call those nice police officers back out here. I really don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be sneaking around in the dark inside someone else’s house.”
“Well, we could say the same thing about you,” Mischa pointed out quietly. “What are you doing here?”
Seneca reached for the light switch and flipped it on. The living room was flooded with light, making the three witches blink quickly as they tried to adjust their eyes. “I’m here for work. Apparently Edith was very specific in her will--the bank is to sell off all property of any value and distribute the proceeds as Edith wished.”
“Oh,” Mischa replied, “you’re here representing the bank.”
“After hours?” Poe asked, skepticism coloring her voice. “Isn’t that a bit weird?”
“Not really,” Seneca replied. “I’m the new girl, so I have to pull more hours to prove myself. Plus, I’ve done this sort of thing before.” She crossed her arms once again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get started taking inventory in here. I expect you can find your own way to the front door?”
Mischa, Poe, and Ellie nodded. Raven mewled beneath Poe’s hand so she loosened her grip. The trio of witches and the cat started towards the door but stopped when Seneca called out to them.
“Wait--how did you get in here in the first place?” she asked.
Ellie looked sheepish. “I have a key. I used to house sit for Edith,” she explained.
Seneca held her hand out, palm turned upwards. “I’m going to need to keep that,” she stated. “I’m sure you understand why.”
Ellie fished the key out of her coat pocket and dropped it into Seneca’s hand. “Don’t work too hard,” she said, fighting the urge to scowl.
Seneca didn’t respond. Instead, she watched the women make their way back out into the cold and watched them cross over into Poe’s driveway. When she was sure that they were all inside Poe’s house, she turned and gave the room her full attention.
Chapter Seven
“I told you guys she’s fishy!” Poe moved to drop her coat onto a chair as she breezed past it. It missed and slid to the floor.
Mischa picked it up and hung it carefully on an empty coat rack by the front door. “Actually, her story makes sense. The bank will probably want to know exactly what they’re putting up for auction and someone has to take inventory. Why wouldn’t that someone be Seneca?”
“Maybe because she killed the woman who lived there?” Poe argued.
“We still don’t know that for sure,” Mischa countered.
“Who else could it be?” Ellie said, taking Poe’s side. “And now a stone cold killer knows we were snooping around the scene of the crime. She’s probably a trained assassin who had to take Edith out for some corrupt entity. You watch--she’ll just disappear in a few days like nothing ever happened at all.”
Mischa rolled her eyes. “Listen to you two. You’re beginning to sound like those crazies who call into the public radio station to report UFO sightings.” She took in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t think we had something to do with that missing painting and then give her the benefit of the doubt. I’m sure she’s really nice if we take the chance to get to know her.”
“Isn’t that what you said about Edith?” Poe replied. “And then she tried to have your kids arrested for trespassing when their soccer ball landed in her yard.”
Ellie wandered over to the fireplace in Poe’s living room. A black and silver snowglobe sat on the mantel. Instead of a snowman inside, it had a dancing skeleton with an electric guitar. Ellie gave the snowglobe a shake and the skeleton began dancing merrily to the tune of Jingle Bells.
“What if she does think we stole that painting?” Ellie asked, turning suddenly to face her friends. “We could all be arrested.”
Mischa’s face paled. “I can’t be arrested,” she gasped. “I’m helping out with Daisy’s third grade Christmas party and I still haven’t baked enough cookies.”
Poe let out a short, sharp laugh. “Ha! She can’t have us arrested. She has no proof whatsoever that we took the painting because we didn’t do it. Besides, I know she’s hiding something. I can just feel it.”
“Should we go back over there?” Mischa asked.
“And do what? Put a forgetting spell on Seneca to make her forget that we were ever there?” Poe suggested.
“Ooh, we could try a locating spell and try to find the painting,” Ellie offered. “But we’d need to be in the house long enough to cast it. I have no idea how long Miss Kensleigh Landing East Bank & Trust is going to be in there taking inventory.”
“Well, we certainly aren’t going to be using any more magic near her. Poe nearly got us all in trouble with that lighter trick.” Mischa shook her head. “No, I guess we shouldn’t bother Seneca after all. We can’t be sure how she’d react if she knew that her entire street was filled with actual witches.”
“Maybe it would make her move away,” Poe said hopefully.
No one spoke for a moment, then Mischa piped up once again. “Of course she won’t think we took the painting!” Ellie and Poe looked at each other, then at their friend.
“Huh?”
“Seneca saw all of us. She had her flashlight, she could see all of us and clearly none of us was carrying a painting when we left. She has to know that none of us took the painting.”
“Um, yeah, except I admitted to having a key to the house,” Ellie reminded her. “Which means you may be off the hook, but I’m not.”
“Well, who else would have had access to Edith’s house?” Mischa asked. “Maybe someone else had a key.”
“Besides Edith, maybe her sister. But probably not,” Ellie replied, turning the idea over in her head. “Edith wasn’t very close to her sister. In fact, the last time I looked after the house for her, Edith came back and told me that she was writing her sister out of her will. I thought she was joking, but I guess she was serious.”
“Yeah, dead serious,” Poe deadpanned. “I’d say that makes the sister a suspect, at least a person of interest, but my money’s still on Seneca for the murder. If she worked for the bank, she could have known about the painting before Edith died.”
“How? People generally don’t keep lists of their valuables at their bank,” Mischa protested. “That’s kind of a stretch, isn’t it?”
“They do if their homeowners insurance is through their bank,” Ellie countered. “And Edith did bank with KLEBT. I saw a letter from
the insurance department of the bank in her mail when I looked after her house. It’s not unreasonable to think she might have had her home inventoried for insurance purposes.”
Poe shook her head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe the old bat was worth over a quarter of a million bucks. She asked me to pick her up a gallon of milk once and refused to pay me back for it. She was the ultimate tightwad.”
“So, if the bank--and Seneca--knew about the painting’s value, and Edith’s sister knew, then that means either Seneca or the sister could have taken the painting.” Ellie turned this over in her head. “But who killed Edith?”
“I haven’t seen anyone coming or going from Edith’s place except for Edith. And us,” Poe added. “And Seneca, well, tonight at least.”
“Maybe the painting was stolen a while ago. Or maybe Edith had it in storage?” Mischa asked hopefully.
“It was on the wall last week when I dropped some cheeseburgers off for Edith,” Ellie replied. “It just all feels so weird to think that I saw her alive and well just a week ago.”
“Joe says we’re crazy,” Mischa admitted. “I told him what Seneca said about Edith and the dog poop incident. He says that Edith was crazy and she probably slipped and fell. He thinks that’s how she died. Maybe he’s right--maybe she did just die accidentally.”
“I don’t think she died accidentally,” said Raven. He was sitting on the coffee table, licking butter off a cracker. “Mmm...she...she was talking to someone the night she died. I was outside that night, the night she took her little trip,” he explained.
“I heard her talking to herself and I thought she was just being her usual, crazy self. Or maybe she was on the telephone,” the cat added before scooping up a piece of cheddar with one paw. The witches waited as he popped the cheese into his mouth and chewed enthusiastically. He didn’t speak again, but instead reached for a chunk of ham.
“Well?” Poe asked impatiently. “Why do you think her death wasn’t an accident? Maybe she was on the phone when she slipped and fell.”
Spells and Jinglebells Page 19