Spells and Jinglebells

by ReGina Welling

  “What’s the book?” Maxine asked. “You’re not a reporter, are you?”

  She shook her head. “No. This is just something I have to do to keep the facts straight.”

  Henry interjected, “There’s nothing wrong with taking notes. Let her be. Tell her what she needs to know.”

  “Fine, but I don’t want to be quoted,” she said. She pulled a newspaper out of a drawer and flopped it on the desk. “Here’s the whole story. You can keep it.”

  The story of the elf’s death covered the front page: Joseph “Uncle Joe” Quick Murdered.

  “Uncle Joe?” Holly tried to pull an image out of her head but failed. She had no memory of anyone by that name. Frustrated, she skimmed through the pages of her diary. “I’ll have to have my roommate send my old diaries. I don’t have anything about him in here.”

  Maxine decided to make a game out of her memory issues. “You can remember you have a roommate, but you can’t remember your grandmother’s ex-husband. Can you remember your name, or did you forget to write that in your notes?”

  Holly flipped to the inside flap of her book, where she had detailed descriptions of her roommate, her dog, and her job. “I keep important information written right here. Is that okay with you?”

  “Did you hit your head or something?” Maxine asked.

  “No. A long time ago, a spell went wrong. It was an accident.” Holly stopped herself, wondering why she had to explain at all. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Right now, I need to focus on my grandmother and this Uncle Joe guy. Tell me what you know about him, so I can verify it with her.”

  “Nope. Visiting hours are from five to seven on Sundays and Fridays.” Maxine pointed to a calendar on the wall. “Today is Monday. Too bad.”

  Holly’s knees wobbled. “Please. I’m begging you.”

  “You have to wait. You have a cell phone, right? She’ll call you if she wants to talk to you,” Maxine said, before turning her attention back to Henry. “What can I help you with today, Mr. Castle?”

  He walked around Holly. “I have an appointment with the warden about the Christmas parade.”

  Holly made her way to the door, heartbroken.

  “Oh, yeah. You seriously want inmates to help with the parade. Don’t you think they’ll be bad for business? How do you know they’re any good?” Maxine asked.

  He answered, “The artists we hired had to bow out. They were over-committed. Since it’s too late to find new artists, the warden suggested we invite some of the non-violent offenders to lend a hand.”

  Holly didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help herself. If Maxine wouldn’t let her in for a visit, maybe volunteering to help Henry would help her gain access. “I’m an artist,” she volunteered. “I could help.”

  Chapter Two

  “Good morning,” Holly offered as Henry’s secretary, a girl she’d gone to elementary school with, ushered her into his office. “First, I want to thank you for allowing me to help you with your project. I’ve never actually been here for the big holiday celebrations. I’ve lived in California for--”

  He held up a hand to stave off a long, drawn-out explanation. “No need for the small talk. I know you didn’t do this because you wanted to help. You’re using me, and that’s fine. As long as the work gets done, I don’t have a problem with it. Now, let’s get some things straight.” He motioned for her to take the seat opposite him at a large conference table, covered in artist’s renderings of massive parade floats and a huge balloon-like figure in the shape of a globe. “The concept is simple. One world. We want to celebrate unity and harmony throughout the world. You might not know this, but Christmas Cove is undergoing a bit of a Renaissance. We’re transitioning from the old Halloween-ish theme of the past and going with a more all-inclusive theme. Sleigh bells, candles, reindeer, Santas from around the world, tiny figurines made to look like some of our most memorable residents. You know, that kind of thing.

  Holly studied the drawings. “Okay. Sounds great. What do you want me to do?” She hoped he’d say he’d get her a visit with her grandmother.

  “I need you to convince your grandmother to use a little magic,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  She checked her notes from their brief conversation the night before. “I’m sorry. What? I don’t recall a conversation about magic.”

  He flashed a winning smile at her. “That’s because it didn’t happen yesterday. We’re having that conversation now.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m confused. Maybe no one told you,” she started as she flipped open her diary to the first page. “We’re forbidden from using magic. The city council came down on us when I was a little kid. No one can use magic within the city limits.”

  “I know the story. I’m saying to you that I don’t care about what you were told then. This is about the here and now.” He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his breast pocket. “Here, look at this. Maybe this will help you understand. Feel free to take notes if you need to.”

  She unfolded the paper, her hands shaking. No one had ever asked her to do anything like this before. It was an unwritten rule not to speak about their magic to anyone.

  “What is this?” she asked as she stared at the rudimentary drawing.

  “What does it look like?” he asked, a sly smile on his face.

  She had to be honest. “It looks like something out of a nightmare. Why are there people in a snow globe?”

  He leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “The better question is can your grandmother make that happen?”

  She shoved her chair back as she noticed his eyes grow dark. “No. She won’t do that. That’s not what we do. We use white magic. That’s black magic. We don’t hurt people and we definitely don’t shrink them and stick them in glass globes. I don’t know what this is, but I’m afraid, I can’t help you. I just volunteered because I thought you’d help me get into the jail.”

  He unclasped his hands and pushed his seat back, taking on a more jovial tone. “Fine. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Sit down. Let’s discuss how we’ll make that visit happen.”

  Part of her told her to run, but another part - the part that wanted to do whatever she could to help her grandmother - begged her to stay. “Who were those people? Who do you want to trap and why?”

  “No one. It was just an idea. Something to entertain the children with at the parade. Nothing to worry about at all. I just thought it’d be fun.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he could be trusted. Good looks were one thing, but if he truly was an evil person behind the beautiful, chiseled facade, that could ruin everything. She excused herself from the room, so she could make some notes without him noticing. “I’ll be right back. Could you point me in the direction of the powder room?”

  “I can do better than that. I’ll let you use mine,” he offered. “The second door on the left. I’ll step out while you take care of your business.”

  Holly thanked him as she watched him walk out the door. With him away, she could have a quick look around to see what he was up to. The drawers in his desk were locked. And from what she could tell, there were no keys in plain sight. A liquor cabinet in the corner was open, but there was nothing in there that seemed unusual. Expensive bottles of champagne. Draft beers. A 2-liter of diet soda. None of which she liked, so she left them untouched.

  She checked the time on her cell phone, figuring she had about five minutes before he’d return to check on her. “What are you up to, handsome man, and why do you need my grandmother’s help?” She’d almost forgotten about the drawing. He’d left it on the table. She slipped it into her purse, then took a seat.

  While she waited for him to return, she wrote as fast as she could, penciling a quick mock-up of the room layout while she was there.

  The door swung open. “Are you decent?” he asked, chuckling.

  “Yes. Thank you. Can we talk about my grandmother now? I’d really like to see
her,” she said.

  He leaned on the edge of his desk. “I know you do. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I visit her for you? I doubt Maxine will let me take you or any of the volunteers inside. Jot down what you want me to tell her and I’ll pay her a visit later today. You can leave your phone number with my secretary and I’ll give you a call when I get back.”

  As much as she thought he was a conman, she had no other choice. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who could be easily persuaded into doing anything, especially for someone he didn’t know well.

  “Okay. Give me a minute and I’ll get something together for you,” she said. She wrote down a list of questions, then, wrote a quick coded message to her grandmother. “Here you go. Thank you for this. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  He grabbed her hand. “My pleasure. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to help me with the parade floats?”

  She gulped, wondering if she’d made a deal with the devil by asking him to visit her grandmother. “I really just want to get her out of that place. I don’t know that I’d be of any use to you.”

  He ignored her comments and asked, “So you really have no memory of her second husband?”

  She shook her head. “None, but in my defense, I was pretty young when they got married. That I know for sure because I wrote that down. Funny how I didn’t write down his name though. I wonder why not.”

  “Maybe, he wasn’t that memorable of a guy back then,” he suggested. “I didn’t know him well, but I liked him. He was nice enough in an old farmer sort of way. He’d nod or tip his ballcap to me when I saw him. Did you know he didn’t even want to be an elf this year? It took a lot of convincing to get him to agree to play the role. Now, I feel bad for asking him to do it. If I had known--” He stopped mid-sentence.

  “She didn’t kill him,” Holly said. “She’d never hurt anyone.”

  He smiled. “I believe you. The question is will those whose opinions matter?”

  She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She pulled out her diary and wrote that down. Could an elderly witch with sometimes-wacky ideas get a fair trial in a town that banned her from using magic and refused to admit witches even existed?

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I think something isn’t right,” she answered. “I should go. There’s no use sitting around. I have to find a way to help her.”

  He walked her to the door. “Don’t forget to leave your phone number. I’m sure your grandmother will have a message for you too.”

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I will.” After leaving her phone number with the secretary, she rushed out the door and found the nearest store to buy a pair of winter boots and a warm coat.

  Chapter Three

  Tassie and Sassie Rivers were local legends. They were famous for always knowing every else’s business but never paying much attention to their own. Being the only heirs to the Rivers’ family fortune, they didn’t bother with the small details like budgeting, inventory, and aesthetic. If it could be sold, they sold it. If no one bought whatever it was, they gave it away for free. Their non-business acumen was the whole reason why their store housed both fine clothing and pig feed. They simply didn’t care.

  “Howdy, Rivers Twins!” Holly said as she wiped snow off her bare feet. “Please, tell me you have cute boots here.”

  Tassie, the brunette sister, jumped out of her seat and ran over to hug her. “You’re home? It’s about time.” When she noticed the tears in Holly’s eyes, her tone changed. “Oh, sorry, looks like I need to start taking notes like you. I forgot about what happened to Calliope. It’s a shame really. Everyone knows she didn’t kill that conniving pipsqueak of a man. Why would she? She hasn’t spoken to him in twenty years.”

  Sassie looked up from her book. “Is that?” She pulled her glasses off. “Well, someone slap me and call me blonde, it is her, isn’t it?” She walked over, her blonde bob bouncing, and pulled her sister away from Holly. “Let me see her. Why, Miss Fancy Pants, aren’t you a Hollywood star now? What brings you here?”

  Tassie elbowed her. “Uncle Joe.”

  She cleared her throat. “Oh, that’s right. He was one of your grandfathers. So sorry for your loss, but truth be told, not too many people will miss him around here. Ever since he took up with that floozy ex-wife of the city manager, he’s been ten times worse than he ever used to be.”

  Holly’s ears perked up. “Excuse me? Did you say the city manager’s wife?” She knew there had to be a reason Henry was so interested in seeing her grandmother.

  Tassie said, “Pull out your diary. This is going to be a good one.”

  Holly was a step ahead of her, already taking notes. “Tell me more.” She wrote until her hand cramped. When the twins told her all they knew, she thought she had a good handle on how her grandmother had gotten framed for murder.

  “I don’t care what anyone says, Calliope didn’t kill that man, and we can prove it,” Sassie said.

  “You can?” Holly could barely contain herself. “Would you be willing to testify to that?”

  Sassie waved off her words. “Of course, I would, but I won’t have to. There won’t be a trial. Not in Christmas Cove. They’ll have to move to another location. No one in their right mind would convict her here. Boy, could you imagine if they did? She’d forget all about the moratorium on magic and make them pay for what they did. No one would be safe from her, not even us.”

  Holly found a pair of boots with a Cheetah pattern on them that she liked. “Do you have these in a size six?”

  Tassie laughed. “We do, but you’ll never get those size eights into them.”

  Holly blushed.

  “Oh, help the girl out, will you?” Sassie said.

  “Have you seen Calliope yet?” Tassie asked. “How was she?”

  She shook her head. “No. They wouldn’t let me see her.”

  “Who? Maxine? Why not?” Sassie asked. “She doesn’t own the jail. She doesn’t make the rules. Did she tell you why you couldn’t see her?”

  “She just said it wasn’t a visiting day,” Holly answered. “Henry Castle is going to go in for me.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized what a huge mistake that was. If her grandmother was accused of killing his ex-wife’s boyfriend, then, their conversation would look suspicious. “We have to stop him.”

  A swath of cold air hit Holly in the back as the door flung open. She turned around to see who’d walked in.

  “It’s about time you got yourself some decent clothes,” Maxine said as she unraveled her scarf. “I don’t know if anyone told you this, but here in the Midwest, we have this thing called winter.”

  Tassie snorted. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but no one cares what you have to say.”

  Maxine smiled, exposing coffee-stained teeth. “That’s what you say now, but wait until I tell you what I heard.”

  Her words got Holly’s attention. “What?”

  “It appears Calliope didn’t kill the elf after all,” Maxine said. “Henry, the Hottie, just paid her a visit and said some interesting things. We have it all on tape.” She reached for her back pocket, then, realized it was empty. “Wait a minute. What happened to it? Have you seen a VHS tape?” She checked under a display table. “I just had it.”

  Tassie laughed. “Who still has VHS tapes? Do you have a dinosaur in your back pocket too?”

  From the back of the store, a man’s sinister voice boomed, “Had it, but I guess you don’t have it anymore, do you?”

  “Who is that?” Sassie whispered.

  Holly said, “It’s Henry.”

  He stepped out of the back room, pulling Calliope with him. “Surprise! Looks like you’ll get to see your grandmother after all. Too bad it will be for the last time.” He laughed a sinister laugh as he yanked a chain and pulled her handcuffed grandmother closer. “Say hello to your granddaughter. She came all the way from California to bail you out.”

  Calliope’s face lit up when she
saw Holly, then, paled when she realized there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Are you okay?” Holly asked her.

  She nodded. When Henry turned his back on her, she stuck her tongue out at him before signaling for Holly to come closer.

  Holly couldn’t read her signals. She looked at Tassie and Sassie for help. They were already in movement, each choosing a side as they moved closer to Henry.

  “Stop right there, ladies. I’m one step ahead of you. Isn’t that right, Maxine?” He glanced in her direction, but she was gone. “Where did she go?”

  He didn’t notice movement behind him. A giant work boot, attached to a muscular leg, hit him in the back of the head.

  “Not on my watch, buddy. Not on my watch.” Maxine hogtied him with her belt and threw a key for the handcuffs in Holly’s direction. “Cut her loose before this beast wakes up.” She lifted his head by his hair and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Why do the cute ones always have to be evil?”

  “Cute ones?” Holly asked.

  Calliope placed the handcuffs over Henry’s wrists. “Like you didn’t notice how handsome he was. Even a blind man could see that.” She yelled at the twins. “Would you scaredy-cats mind calling the police or do you plan to hang on to each other for dear life forever?”

  Chapter Four

  Mayor Bottles spoke over the sheriff. “You mean to tell me he killed Uncle Joe? How? He wasn’t even there?”

  “But he was,” Holly explained. “You’re not going to like this, but it turns out, the witches weren’t the ones you should have been worried about. Rogue warlocks were the cause of all the problems.”

  He scratched his head. “I didn’t even know we had warlocks here.”

  Calliope snorted. “That’s because you don’t know much. If it hadn’t been for my nearly-naked granddaughter, I could have been locked up for life for something I didn’t do. If you keep inviting strangers to come in and make the rules, you’ll end up with more problems than you can handle. Next time, vet these people. Who knows what kind of vermin they’ll let in here!” She eyed Maxine.