“Neither would I!” snapped Esmerelda with a pout twisting her otherwise lovely face.
“Well, what about that little girl that went missing last summer while she was camping with her parents?” chimed in Fiona from across the room.
“Oh Gawd, do we really have to talk about that again? That’s all I heard about last summer,” snapped Esmerelda.
Mrs. Everett tilted her head. “Yes, I do remember Sebastian telling me about that last summer. You returned a little girl to her parents. That was a pretty big deal if you ask me.”
“I suppose.” Whitley felt heat creeping into her face. Discussing her victories made her self-conscious. She’d been reading mystery novels her entire life, but it seemed that it was her witch’s intuition that seemed to make solving mysteries come so naturally to her. Her father always agreed that sleuthing was just one of her many gifts.
“Anyway, I have a case that I’d like to hire you to solve.”
Both Whitley’s and Esmerelda’s eyes widened. “Hire me to solve?” Whitley repeated. She’d never been hired to solve a case before.
“Yes. Sebastian’s father bought me a Norwegian forest kitten. It was an early Christmas gift. She’s a beautiful creature. Just gorgeous. With long grey hair, she’s just the perfect little ball of fur. I absolutely adore her.”
Whitley nodded, anxious to hear the mystery surrounding this kitten.
Mrs. Everett pulled a snapshot from her purse and handed it to Whitley. “Oh, she is adorable!” cooed Whitley, showing Esmerelda the photograph.
Esmerelda rolled her eyes but didn’t say a word.
“I’ve only had Sophie for a few weeks, and last Friday she went missing. Well, stolen is actually more precise. Now with this big storm that’s coming, I’m just worried sick about her. I’d like her returned.”
Whitley blanched. The thought of finding a little kitten in all of Everland Cove sounded daunting. After all, footprints in the snow weren’t exactly the kind of clues she was used to searching for. “Perhaps he just got out of the house, Mrs. Everett. It might be hard to find him if he’s found a place to get out of the snow,” Whitley suggested. “But, I mean, I can certainly come over and take a peek around your house for you.”
Mrs. Everett shook her head. “He didn’t just get out of the house. He was stolen. I’d put him in his little cage to keep him safe during the night, and when I went to retrieve him at breakfast time, his entire cage was gone.”
Fiona sucked in her breath. “Someone broke into your house?!”
Mrs. Everett nodded sadly. “Mr. Everett admitted he forgot to lock the back door the night that poor little Sophie went missing.”
“I can’t believe someone would break into your house to steal your cat!” said Whitley. The thought of such a thief running around Everland Cove made Whitley sick to her stomach.
Mrs. Everett frowned. “Mr. Everett said he spent a thousand dollars on Sophie. She’s a very valuable cat. Someone in town knew exactly what they were doing.”
Whitley’s eyes scanned Sebastian’s face for signs of approval.
He shot her back an encouraging smile. “I’ll help you, Whit. We’ll find Sophie together. What do you say?”
Whitley’s tiny nose wrinkled excitedly. “I say, Mrs. Everett, you’ve hired yourself a pair of sleuths!”
Chapter Four
“Essy, look! Dad’s home from his trip!” said Whitley as the old beater truck pulled into the driveway in front of the Snow family’s modest country home.
Esmerelda’s eyes widened and a genuine smile blazed across her face. “Eeee!” she squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. “Our dresses are here!”
“Is that seriously all you care about? Dad’s been gone for a week.”
Esmerelda waved a hand, pooh-poohing her sister. “Oh, you know what I mean. Of course I’m happy to see Dad too. I just didn’t know if he’d get here in time.” She threw open her door and burst out of the truck. Without bothering to shut it, she hollered back at her sister. “Come on, Whit! First one inside gets first pick!”
Whitley sighed as she shut off the ignition. Was her sister serious? Since they had been old enough to speak, Esmerelda had always gotten first pick. Walking away from the truck, she pulled her wand from her pocket and waved it at the truck. Without turning around, she heard the door slam shut.
Inside, Whitley unbundled herself, dropping all of her wet clothing onto the floor. Then, wand in hand, she flicked her wrist and her garments all lifted off the ground and hung themselves up on their proper hooks to dry, and her boots marched themselves underneath the bench. Then she headed upstairs in search of Esmerelda and their father. “Dad?” she shouted through the halls.
“Whit! We’re in here!”
Whitley’s heart lifted at the familiar sound of her father’s voice. She raced into her bedroom, where she found her sister sitting on her bed next to an enormous cardboard box. “It’s about time!” cried Esmerelda. Then her eyes swung up to meet her father’s. “Oh, Daddy, Whit’s here. Can we open it now?”
He laughed. “First things first, Es.” He turned to face his youngest daughter. Wrapping his arms around Whitley’s shoulders, he gave her a little peck on the cheek. “Hello, sweetheart, it’s good to see you!”
Whitley melted into her father’s embrace. It felt good to have him home. Finally it felt like the holidays! “Oh, Dad, I’m so glad you’re back. I was worried the storm would keep you away.”
His head bobbed. “I was worried too. I left a day early just to beat the weather.”
Esmerelda pounded the pads of her feet against the carpet. “Okay, enough chitchat. Can we puh-lease see our dresses now?”
Whitley looked down at the enormous box on the bed. “Our dresses are in there?” She pointed to the box.
He nodded excitedly. “I can’t wait for you to see what I found for you!”
“Then let’s open it already!” pleaded Esmerelda.
Their father smiled gleefully, a web of wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes. His head gave a little nod. “Open it!”
Whitley didn’t even have to touch the box; her sister plowed into it with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old on Christmas morning. When she’d peeled back the cardboard and the layers of tissue paper, Esmerelda reeled back in horror. “What is this?!” she demanded.
Curious, Whitley peered into the box. A pile of dresses lay carefully folded together, ensconced in tissue paper. With a flick and swirl of her wand, Whitley lifted out a large portion of dresses. “What is this, Dad?”
“Dad! They look old,” spat Esmerelda as the dresses magically emerged from the box one by one and hung in the air. “And used!” She turned to face her father with a hand on her hip. “Tell me you didn’t buy us used dresses, Dad!”
Their father’s face went ashen. “Well, the woman—uh-hum.” He cleared his throat. “At the shop, she said you’d love them.”
The dresses kept coming, spreading out shoulder to shoulder around the room. Whitley’s stomach swayed. “This is a lot of dresses. How in the world did you afford this many dresses?”
“Because they’re used, Whit. Dad went to the junk store and bought us rags to wear to the Snow Globe Ball!” she cried, running two hands through her long brown hair and pulling at her roots.
“It wasn’t a junk store, Esmerelda,” began their father. “It was a mystical shop, and listen—I almost bought the two of you these brand-new ball gowns…”
Esmerelda stopped pacing the floor and threw her arms down by her side. “Well, why in the world didn’t you?! Do you hate us that much?!” she demanded.
“Essy, that’s terrible to say! Dad doesn’t hate us!” admonished Whitley.
He shook his head. “Let me explain, Es. I certainly don’t hate you. Those dresses were four hundred dollars apiece. I didn’t have that kind of cash. When I didn’t, she offered up these dresses for free! Well, almost for free.”
“For free?!” Esmerelda gasped. “Dad! You’re a sale
sman! You’ve always told us that you get what you pay for! What were you thinking?!” She returned to pacing the length of Whitley’s bedroom floor.
Whitley let out a heavy sigh and took in her father’s downtrodden face. Her heart hurt for him. He was only trying to do something nice, and her sister was making it horrible for him. “Oh, Daddy. I think the dresses are just lovely! And what a deal! Free? That’s amazing!” She flicked her wand, and the dresses all marched single file into the oversized wooden wardrobe next to her bed.
He winced. “To be honest, they didn’t cost me any money. But they will cost you girls a little time.”
“What do you mean?” asked Whitley, ignoring her sister, who had taken to muttering profanities under her breath.
“I got the dresses from a mystic’s shop in the city,” he explained. “She said each of the items in her shop had a story behind them. These dresses, in particular, all have mysteries of one type or another to solve. She asked for your help in solving them.”
Whitley’s eyes widened as she put a hand to her chest. “My help?!”
“Well, you and your sister’s help.”
Esmerelda sucked in her breath. “I am not lifting a finger to help that woman! I don’t even want those dresses!”
He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Yes, I see that now.”
Whitley looked at the dresses crammed into her wardrobe. There were some lovely items in the lot. Oddly, there were a few wedding dresses and some interesting costumes, but there were also some very fine ball gowns. With her seamstress abilities, she knew she could make her and her sister look phenomenal for their big event. Of course it would take a bit of work getting Esmerelda on board, but she knew she could do it. But to solve the mysteries of some old dresses? “Dad, I wouldn’t even know how to start solving the mystery of an old dress.”
He threw his arms up in a dramatic shrug. “That’s what I told the woman. She insisted that it would all become obvious over time and that everything would present itself to you. It really didn’t sound like a very big deal to me.”
Esmerelda shook her head wildly when she could see Whitley relenting. “No, Whit! Do not tell Dad we’ll take the dresses. Tell him to take them back and find us new dresses!”
“Es, it’s Thursday! The ball is in two days! There just isn’t time! This storm is going to hit and then the highways will all be closed. We won’t have time to get new dresses. And there really isn’t time for me to start two new dresses from scratch.” Whitley began rifling through the dresses in her wardrobe. “Essy, there are some really fabulous gowns in here.”
To demonstrate, she pulled out a gorgeous ruby-red A-line chiffon dress with a ruffled split front. “Picture this with your silver heels, Es. I’ll adjust the top, so it’s off the shoulder. With your dark hair and eyes, you’ll absolutely pop in this dress.”
Esmerelda stared at the dress hatefully but didn’t speak. Whitley knew that was a sign that Esmerelda could see her vision, but was too stubborn to admit it.
She pulled out a floor-length silver charmeuse gown with a plunging neckline next. “Oh, Essy! How gorgeous is this one? It’s a little too big, but I can take it in. You’d look amazing in this one too. Give them a chance? Dad tried really hard for us.”
Esmerelda wrinkled her nose, balled her hands into fists, and pounded them into her thighs before dashing out of the room in a huff.
Whitley’s heart broke for her father. She threw her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Dad. These are perfect. We’ll solve the mysteries and keep the dresses. Thank you!”
He tried to smile, but the corners of his eyes didn’t crinkle up as they had before. Whitley could tell that her sister had crushed his spirit.
Whitley peered up into his eyes. “You know Es. She’ll come around. Don’t worry. I’ll talk with her, alright?”
He nodded before kissing Whitley’s cheek. “I’m going to see about supper. I’m in the mood for soup and grilled cheese. You?”
“Soup sounds great, Dad. I’ll be down in a minute to help.”
Her father was only gone for a few seconds before Esmerelda appeared in the doorway again. Whitley didn’t have to look up from the dresses in her wardrobe to know that Essy wore a scowl on her face.
“You know what Mom always said,” Whitley chastised. “Smiles make friends. Scowls make wrinkles.”
“This is all your fault, you know?” clucked Essy as she fell onto her stomach next to the cardboard box.
“My fault? How is this my fault?” Whitley’s eyes narrowed into pinpricks as she reeled around to stare at her sister.
“If you didn’t like mysteries and sewing so much, Dad would have never taken those dresses. Instead he would have bought us new ball gowns.”
Whitley groaned and turned her back to her sister. Esmerelda’s constant negativity exhausted her. “Go away, Es,” she sighed.
“You’re kicking me out?” demanded Esmerelda, sitting up on the bed and knocking the box full of tissue paper to the floor. The sound of a heavy object clunking as it hit the floor made both girls stare down at the box.
“What was that?” asked Whitley.
Esmerelda clambered off the bed and lifted the box.
Whitley reached inside and pulled out a heavy object wrapped in scads of tissue paper. She peeled back the nearly transparent layers. “It’s a snow globe!” she said with surprise.
Esmerelda smiled for a half-second as she looked down at the ball. “Dad got us a snow…” Her eyes darkened as she realized it was empty. “There’s nothing in it!”
Pulling the remainder of the tissue paper back, Whitley’s nose crinkled. The base of the heavy globe was a burnt copper color with an ornately carved swirling pattern dotted with stars. She gave it a shake and watched as a snowstorm ravaged the watery world. Aside from the snow, Esmerelda was correct. The globe was empty. She’d never seen an empty snow globe before. She tipped her head to the side. What a funny thing for their father to bring them home from his trip.
Esmerelda’s face reddened as Whitley set the globe on her nightstand. “Ugh!” she hollered into the air. “He couldn’t even buy us a snow globe with something in it! I’ve had it with this family!”
Chapter Five
That night, nearly a foot of snow blanketed Everland Cove and the surrounding countryside. Whitley holed up in her bedroom and worked tirelessly through the night and into the next day to make something out of the assortment of dresses their father had brought them.
It was nearly dark again when Whitley’s door burst open, and Esmerelda flounced into her room in a panic. “Whit! Carter Langdon just called and canceled our date for tomorrow night! Now what am I supposed to do? I can’t go to the Snow Globe Ball alone!”
Whitley’s heart nearly leaped from her chest as she bolted upright in front of her sewing machine. “Es! You scared the living daylights out of me!” she cried, quickly throwing a blanket over the dress in front of her. Then she leaned backward and scratched the back of her neck nonchalantly as her pulse throbbed wildly in her veins. “That’s kind of last-minute. I’m shocked you didn’t use your magical powers of persuasion to change his mind.”
Esmerelda groaned. “I tried,” she pouted. “My powers don’t work through the phone.”
Whitley tipped her head to the side. “Why did he cancel?”
“I don’t know,” whined Esmerelda, throwing herself down onto the bed. “He’s on vacation with his family. Something about bad roads and not wanting to risk his life. Lame, right?”
Bleary-eyed from staring at her sewing machine for the last eighteen hours straight, Whitley slumped back in her chair. “Yeah, totally lame,” she quipped, shooting her sister a sardonic grin.
“So what am I supposed to do?!” demanded Esmerelda. “I can’t go to the ball in a horrible dress with no date! I’ll be the laughingstock of the entire town!”
Whitley rolled her eyes and puffed air out her nose. “I really think you should have become a
n actress, Es.”
Esmerelda stopped pouting and furrowed her brows. “Because I’m so beautiful?”
“Because you’re so dramatic! Just ask a different man to take you. Have you forgotten you’re a witch with the powers of enchantment? It shouldn’t be that difficult. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do if our dresses are ever going to be done in time for the gala.”
“You’re so selfish, Whit,” snapped Esmerelda, leaping off the bed and heading for the doorway. “I come to you with a problem, and you mock me. Why Dad always says you’re the good one, I’ll never understand.”
Whitley groaned as her sister disappeared out the door. She threw the blanket back onto the floor and attempted to refocus her attention on the dress she had been working on before Esmerelda had come in. She’d only managed to put in a few more stitches before her father poked his head around the door.
“How are the dresses coming?” he asked with a smile.
Whitley relaxed backwards in her chair and rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands. “I’m so close to being done with this one,” she sighed.
“Are you hungry? I’m just about to go start supper.”
“Famished!” said Whitley. “But I don’t want to take a break until I get Essy’s dress done.”
He pulled up a seat next to her little sewing desk. “Oh, you’re working on your sister’s dress first?”
Whitley flashed him a brilliant smile before lifting the pressure foot and raising the needle so she could slide the dress out.
She held the red gown up to her chest. “Isn’t it gorgeous, Dad?”
He nodded and pointed to the off-the-shoulder sleeves she’d added to the dress. “Absolutely stunning! I love the little beads on the sleeves!”
“I know, right! I removed them from one of the other dresses. I feel like it makes the dress a little bit more regal. Not that she would actually say it to me, but I think Es is going to flip!”
Suddenly, Esmerelda’s head was in Whitley’s doorway again. “Did you say my name?” she demanded, her eyes scanning her father’s and sister’s faces.
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