Cozy Witch
Page 7
I was put on the spot, but thankfully I had well-honed lying skills from years of dealing with the moms.
“Someone had been sabotaging The Taming of the Shrew, as you know, and so when I saw the two of you filming outside, I thought you might have something to do with it. That’s why chased you,” I said smoothly.
“I know you, you’re that author Red Forrest, aren’t you,” Dawn said.
“That’s me,” Red said. I heard in her voice that she was thinking the same thing that I was. We’d chased two people and cornered them in an alleyway.
“Now the introductions are done would you please move out of our way and let us go about our business?” Rufus asked.
He turned away from me to pick up the bag he’d dropped and then took in a sharp breath.
“Look at this,” he said to Dawn.
He turned on the camera and Dawn began narrating as he filmed.
“We’ve come into this alleyway off the main street in Harlot Bay. We’ve been led here by some of the locals who have heard that we’re here investigating the strange rumors of a monster that is stalking the town. Look what we found,” she said dramatically. She pointed at the brick wall. Both Red and I stepped forward to take a closer look and saw there were long scratch marks running the entire way up the wall. They looked like they’d been carved out of the stone by enormous claws.
“Something has scratched its way up the wall, higher than any man could jump. Perhaps it was the monster fleeing from people, or perhaps giving chase,” Dawn said in an ominous tone, looking back at the camera.
“We need to take a plaster cast of it,” Rufus said from behind the camera.
We watched as Dawn stepped closer to the camera and then looked directly into the lens. “One thing is certain, there is something strange in Harlot Bay,” she said. Then Rufus stopped filming and they both turned back towards us.
“So this is what we do if that’s okay,” Dawn said, rather sarcastically to us.
“Of course it is,” Red mumbled. She turned away and I followed her, making our way out of the dark alleyway. It wasn’t until we were back out on the street that we finally spoke.
“Do you think that was a setup? Maybe they made the scratches and they were filming it, and that’s why they ran there?” Red asked me.
“That never crossed my mind. Have they been caught faking things before?” I said.
Although I was confused and, yes, somewhat embarrassed that we’d chased two people who apparently were just trying to make a documentary, Red’s question had made me feel quite relieved. The moment I’d seen those marks I had imagined a huge beast clambering its way up the wall. But perhaps once again I was leaping ahead of myself and there was a much simpler explanation, such as an odd couple possibly faking things so they could make their show.
“We need to get to the opening, but I think there’s something to investigate here,” Red said. I followed along beside her thinking yes, there was something to investigate but also that I would have to do my best to sidetrack her and the writers to ensure they didn’t get into any trouble. It was looking like it was going to be a very busy two weeks.
Chapter Seven
I was standing backstage at the Town Hall quietly hyperventilating when Molly’s message arrived.
“Be there five minutes. Traffic!”
I checked the time. She, Luce and Peta would be cutting it close. I took a sip of my cold water and went back to quietly panicking.
After confronting Dawn and Rufus of the Mysterious Mysteries so-called fame, Red and I had rushed to the Writerpalooza grand opening at the Town Hall. Inside the building was pure chaos as fans came streaming in to fill up all the seating in the main area, as authors ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, and the organizers tried to keep everyone, well, organized. Thankfully, I didn’t have much to do except follow behind Red. I hadn’t been feeling great about confronting the Mysterious Mysteries in the alleyway and that feeling had only gotten worse when I’d gone to the kitchen to fetch some cold water and returned to find the writers having a conspiratorial conversation. All I caught was Jenna Cheng saying, “I’ve scouted the place out. I think we can go at night,” before they all shut up when I arrived. I handed over the water bottle to Red and pretended I hadn’t heard anything.
But it was clear the writers were investigating the strange things that were happening in Harlot Bay. Now, not only did I have to worry about Red possibly running into some kind of supernatural monster, but the rest of the writers as well. Sure, TJ McKenna could probably handle himself, being a former Navy Seal, but as for Jay and Jenna? I suspected they’d be eaten alive.
I found myself hoping that Rufus and Dawn of the Mysterious Mysteries were the ones behind carving claw marks into a wall for their show. That would wrap up everything neatly. Yes, there was still the matter of Carl Stern, but perhaps he was involved in doing a publicity stunt and then the Mysterious Mysteries had attacked him to whip up publicity for their show?
It was far better than the alternative: there was a monster in Harlot Bay attacking people.
I was standing sipping water when Red appeared out of nowhere and came rushing over.
“Hey, that guy who got attacked can have visitors now. Let’s go see him after this, figure out what’s going on!”
“You want to go to the hospital?” I said, my heart sinking. Witches and hospitals don’t get along. We can sense the emotions there and most of them aren’t good.
“We can find out if he was faking it or not. I’ve been thinking that maybe the Mysterious Mysteries could have been the ones who attacked him for their show,” Red said.
“I was thinking the same,” I said.
“So you’re in?”
“Definitely,” I said. Red said goodbye and rushed off to get ready for the opening ceremony. My phone buzzed again. It was Molly and they were waiting outside.
As staff members we’d been given guest tickets to various events throughout the week. I’d used mine on Molly, Luce and Peta. Because of their businesses they couldn’t afford to wait in queues so we’d arranged to meet at a side entrance. As soon as I let the three of them in Luce grabbed me by the arms and looked deeply into my eyes.
“Harlow, what’s wrong?” she asked.
I had all of about a minute to explain that I suspected the writers were investigating and it would surely lead to something terrible.
“Better them than us,” Molly said, seemingly unconcerned.
“What do you mean better them? They’re not witches! Someone could get killed!” I said.
“Or maybe they find out the truth and we don’t have to get involved and we have a nice lovely calm Writerpalooza,” Molly said.
“Doesn’t sound our style,” Luce commented.
“You said they’re already investigating–have they found anything out?” Peta asked.
“They’ve found some location apparently that they’ve scouted out. I think they’re going to break into somewhere,” I said.
We all shared a look. The look was generally we disapprove of breaking into places mixed with we say that having had broken into many places in our time. It was complicated being a witch.
“Sounds like you need to get on the inside. Find out where they’re going and go there first,” Luce said.
I groaned. “I was afraid someone would say that. They want to go to the hospital next to talk to the guy who was attacked last night supposedly by a monster.”
“Yeah, there’s not much you’re gonna be able to do there. Even if you can see him first they’re still going to turn up,” Luce said.
“I need a plan and quick. Is there something we can fake to distract them?” I asked.
“Sounds like that would make them more curious, not less,” Molly said.
Our conversation was cut off by the lights in the adjoining hall lowering. The opening ceremony was about to begin. We hustled our way in and stood on the sides, finding a somewhat clear spot.
; In the dim light I looked around the Town Hall. It seemed like it was about ninety percent vampire. Bella Shade coming to the Writerpalooza had pulled in thousands of fans, many of whom were still waiting outside as the Town Hall was filled to capacity.
The house lights went from romantic evening to pitch dark and then a spotlight lit up and the crowd went wild. It was Harry Sparkle dressed in his bright clothing wearing his crazy hat, holding a ukulele covered in glitter. Despite my worry about what messes the writers would get themselves into I found myself cheering and clapping along with everyone.
Another spotlight lit up on the far side of the stage to reveal yet another crazy character - the Mayor of Harlot Bay. He was dressed in a glittering sequined coat and today his mohawk was bright blue.
“Welcome to Writerpalooza!” the Mayor shouted like he was introducing a wrestling special. The crowd went wild again, the spotlight on the Mayor dropped away and then Harry Sparkle began to play his ukulele.
The opening sped by. We laughed and sang along with Harry Sparkle, an entire Town Hall full of adults turned into children. He told us how excited he was that we were all there, and then went off the stage to a cheering that wouldn’t have seemed out of place at a rock concert.
Next up a brunette woman with pale skin wearing a fabulous red dress came up to the microphone. At this, the vampires in the crowd lost their minds.
“It’s Bella Shade!” Luce said.
“She looks so normal for a genius,” Molly whispered.
Bella tried to give an opening introduction to Writerpalooza, but the cheering was crazy, people standing up and clapping and yelling. It probably went on for about five minutes before it calmed down. In that time Bella’s pale cheeks had flushed pink and she was blushing and smiling at everyone. Once the room had gone somewhat quiet, Bella gave the opening speech to Writerpalooza. After that it was a quick succession of authors, including Red, saying their small parts before the Mayor came on and welcomed all of them and all of the crowd to Writerpalooza. And then it was done! I let Molly, Luce and Peta back out the side door so they could return to Traveler and The Cozy Cat Café. Then I went backstage to find Red was searching for me.
“You’re here, excellent, let’s go!” she said.
I tried to keep the smile on my face as we left Writerpalooza, got into the rental car and drove across to the Harlot Bay hospital. Outside I knew I was looking calm but inside my stomach was churning. It was probably a good thing it took us almost an hour to get out of the traffic jam caused by the opening ceremony. It gave me some time to calm down and also to talk to Red.
“So… you guys have decided to investigate the apparent monster attack?” I said.
“We’ll look into it,” Red said and started tapping away on her phone.
I know that she hadn’t told me to be quiet or that she wasn’t going to answer my questions and, yes, she was still as friendly and fun as ever, but I got the distinct impression that she wasn’t telling me the truth. I decided to try another route and so we chatted about inconsequential things until we reached the Harlot Bay hospital. This sounds like it may have calmed me down but it further cemented the idea that Red was keeping from me her plans for snooping and investigating, given that she would talk to me about trivial things but not about what she and the other writers were doing.
I followed along behind Red who rushed into the hospital like she owned it, bracing myself for the pools of sadness I would be forced to walk through. There were even some in the lobby, but thankfully we didn’t have to stay long.
“What do you mean he’s gone?” Red asked the receptionist.
“Mr. Stern checked himself out about thirty minutes ago,” he said.
“Was he with anyone?” Red asked.
The man glanced around to make sure no one was listening and then lowered his voice.
“I know I’m not meant to say this but you’re one of my favorite authors so I’m going to tell you. A man dressed in all black with blue tattoos down his arms and the backs of his hands took him away. I swear the guy looked like he was straight out of a horror movie.”
Red thanked the receptionist and then we went back outside and got into the car. I started the engine immediately to get the cooling working.
“If he checked himself out he might still be in town somewhere. Maybe we could see if he’s at any of the hotels?” I said.
Red shook her head and narrowed her eyes as she tapped away on her phone. It brought up an image which she showed to me. It was of a pale man, his skin as white as alabaster, wearing all black. I couldn’t see his arms, but his hands were etched in vivid blue tattoos. Underneath the image was a name: Hannibal Blood.
“I’m going to bet that this is the man who came to collect him,” Red told me.
“It says there that he’s an author. Was he possibly the one behind the publicity stunt of Carl being attacked?” I asked.
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Red said.
Chapter Eight
“I hate you Hannibal blood,” I muttered as my car chugged up the hill in the blazing heat.
I’d been caught up in Red’s excitement about the big clue we’d received about Hannibal Blood checking out Carl Stern but then that excitement had come crashing down when we discovered that Hannibal didn’t have any sessions for Writerpalooza on until Thursday. I’d called Angela, the organizer, and discovered that no one knew where Hannibal was staying either. Suddenly, the trail had turned cold. Red was slightly disappointed but seemed to take it all in stride. I was pretty much feeling the same until a fresh new disappointment hit me when I learned I’d have to give up the sports car for the day. Red decided she was going to go for another drive down the coast by herself and so she asked me where she could drop me off. I asked her to take me back to my car, which is still parked across the road from Meredith’s. At least Red had the grace to wait to see whether my car would start. The moment the engine turned over she roared off down the street, the luxurious icy air conditioning blasting, leaving me sitting inside my portable oven. So now I was creeping up the hill heading towards Torrent Mansion cursing Hannibal Blood, the sun, monsters, and anything else I could think of.
I eventually reached the mansion and rushed inside to the blessed coolness. The place was empty, of course. Molly and Luce were at work. The moms were at the bakery and only one of them would be down at the other end of the mansion, and Aunt Cass was probably down at the Chili Challenge. Not even Adams was around. I spent a minute drinking some deliciously icy water from the refrigerator before turning on my ancient laptop and going hunting for the Mysterious Mysteries.
It turned out the Mysterious Mysteries was an online show. Dawn and Rufus investigated supernatural events across North America. As I watched, skipping between different episodes of the show, I started to relax. The entire thing was ridiculous. I watched the two of them creeping through a mansion at night, Rufus carrying something that was apparently meant to detect whether there were ghosts in the house. When the needle moved, he and Dawn looked shocked.
I flicked through a few more episodes until I came to one titled The Monster of New Orleans. I sat sipping my cold water as I watched Rufus and Dawn explain how a strange monster had been stalking the streets of New Orleans. It was when they reached an alleyway, and “discovered” the claw marks that I paused it and shook my head at myself. What had I been thinking? I’d been so worried about these two, but they were a couple of charlatans! The claw marks in the New Orleans alleyway were identical to the ones in Harlot Bay. I played the video for a little longer and then shut it off before looking through the rest of the videos to make sure there weren’t any about Torrent Mansion. The fact was that even if these guys found anything supernatural in Harlot Bay I doubted anyone would believe them.
After that and feeling somewhat more relieved, I looked up Hannibal Blood and saw that he was an author, publishing over the last decade. He’d apparently appeared out of nowhere and it was evident that his whole get
-up was a costume. He wore all black and had tattoos down his hands, never gave interviews, and wrote grisly horror books. The Internet was full of strange rumors about him: that he was actually a vampire or involved with necromancy; that he hadn’t aged; that he was a crazy man. Given that the legend seemed to feed into his book sales it appeared to me that he’d discovered that pretending to love the darkness was actually quite a lucrative act.
I was browsing around some of his book titles aimlessly when my phone rang. It was Sheriff Hardy.
“Harlow, my men received a complaint today that you and the author Red Forrest chased two people into an alleyway,” he said without bothering to say hello.
Oh no.
“Hi Sheriff,” I said.
I took a hasty gulp of my cold water, accidentally choked myself and then started spluttering. It was only when I caught my breath that I realized that Sheriff Hardy had been talking the whole while.
“… and you don’t want to be following these people around and so you need to leave them alone, okay?” he finished.
“Sure, yes, absolutely,” I croaked. Sheriff Hardy said goodbye and then the phone went silent.
They’d gone to the police!
…although that wasn’t too hard to believe. After all two strange people did chase them into an alleyway, one of them ripped off a wig, and the other one took their camera.
It took me a little while to recover from the Sheriff’s phone call. Although I hadn’t heard what he’d said I could guess the gist of it. Leave the people from the Mysterious Mysteries alone. It was only after I had calmed myself that I realized I should have told him my suspicions that they were faking that there was a monster around Harlot Bay and they’d probably done it before. Yes, I admit now there was a slight bit of spite to it. The idea that they had gone to report us when in fact it was them who were possibly doing something illegal. I certainly wouldn’t put it past them to have attacked Carl either directly or using someone they hired perhaps to get more attention for their show, which as far as I could tell wasn’t doing that well.