Cursed With a Twist (Grumpy Chicken Irish Pub Series Book 4)

by Constance Barker

  The spinster sisters interrupted as they entered through the front door. Edith raised her voice. “Good day! I see the gang is assembling.” The sisters moved to their table and sat as they talked.

  Ginger replied. “Yes, the gang is back together, just as planned. All we need now is Digger and...” The front door opened and revealed Digger. She continued, “Check that, we need Piper and Ida.”

  Digger took his stool and slouched. I asked, “What’s your problem?”

  “Well Guardrail, you ride for six hours with Piper and deal with a mad scientist for an entire day. Then see if you have to ask.” Digger hung his head while speaking.

  Ginger asked, “So, the trip went poorly?”

  “No, I enjoyed some of it. I got to sign my first autograph. It was exciting.” Digger picked his head upon mentioning the signature.

  “I signed my first one not too long ago. It’s strange when someone asks, but yeah, kind of exciting.” Ginger smiled at the old gravedigger.

  “I guess the ride to and from was OK, but that historian was a handful. He bounced all over the place and told some whoppers. And he kept looking at me like I was E.T.”

  I laughed and asked, “So, you weren’t impressed with him, were ya Digger?”

  He turned to look at me. “You could say that, Guardrail.”

  Ginger added, “Well, we’ll have to see what Piper thought of him and what she learned.”

  We didn’t have to wait long, Piper and Ida entered with a surprise in tow. An energetic man in his sixties with flowing, bushy gray hair accompanied them. Piper said, “Back from the big city and we got news.”

  Dog shot back. “Who’s this?” He pointed at the man with them.

  Digger mumbled. “That’s the handful.”

  I sensed my eyes grow large. “That’s the historian?”

  Digger nodded. “Yep!”

  Edith and Lily sat up straight. Lily tittered, “Oh my, it’s always so nice to welcome a handsome, young stranger. Here, come sit at our table.”

  Edith pulled out the chair next to her and patted the seat. “Come, sit here next to me.”

  Piper spoke up. “Everyone. This is Blake Winston from the Atlanta Historical Society. He’s been very helpful. But this puzzle may be much larger than we suspected, so he asked to come back to Potter’s Mill and continue researching the issue.”

  Ginger said, “You could have called, told us ahead of time.”

  “Why? Would it have made a difference? Thought I would surprise you.” Piper grinned at Ginger. “I love when you make that astonished face.”

  Dog said, “Well if I got my count right, the gang’s all here. We can start.”

  Ginger said, “OK. Who wants to go first?”

  Bones yelled from the kitchen. “Star! The trance was incredible!”

  Ginger said, “No. We have a guest. He should be allowed to go first. Blake, we’re pleased to have you here. Can you tell us what you learned about the locket?”

  Blake told the story of the locket inspection and presented his theory. He finished with, “The grumpy chicken is Lee’s pet chicken, Nellie, and she is guarding the confederate’s lost gold. And this locket bothered her because it puts the gold in jeopardy.”

  Dog laughed uncontrolled. “You can’t be serious. The lost gold has been searched for over decades. And you want us to believe it’s here.” He wiped the tears from his eyes.

  Edith reached out and touched his hand. “You have an interesting theory, dear. Maybe we can discuss it later over dinner. At my place.”

  Lily corrected. “It's our place! And we serve fine tea and cookies for dessert. Or whatever else you might like.”

  Piper intervened. “Ladies, if you please. Blake has an interesting theory and some of the facts fit.”

  I added, “But not all the facts fit. With everything that has happened with the chicken, no one has ever mentioned gold. Not even Star after a trance.”

  Star sat quietly but picked this point in the conversation to join. “Guardrail is right. I have never sensed the chicken is protecting something of value, like a gold treasure. In contrast, I sense embarrassment and a desire to make things right. To contribute and do good deeds.”

  Dog said, “So, the Atlanta visit turned up some interesting info. What about you, Ginger? You poked around town yesterday according to rumors. What did you find?”

  Ginger shrugged, “Ida and Bones should tell you. They found the interesting stuff.”

  Ida cut in, “We found an old map in a trunk at Bessie Houston’s house. It showed the pub on it but it used to be called the Fickle Waterwheel and was owned by the Walsh family.”

  “Maybe the pub should be called The Fickle Pickle. Seems sometimes we have pickled eggs, and sometimes we don’t.” I should have held my tongue.

  Ginger glared at me. “This is not about the pickled egg jar problem, Guardrail. Bones also found some history of business conducted in the town back during the civil war in an old ledger.”

  Ida added, “And we noticed the scroll design on the map matched the scroll work on the locket. So they seem connected somehow.”

  Bones came out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a white towel. “We also found an old letter from one of the Walsh sons who fought in the Civil War. He said that his mother’s side of the family, the Byrnes, had a respectable military history.”

  Ida continued, “And at the end of the day we inspected an odd painting. Then after talking with Star, she wanted to see it. So we headed over to the art gallery and when she touched the frame, well things got freaky.”

  Blake cut in, “We’re overlooking two important facts. Everything we learned confirms Erin Walsh was Erin Byrnes before she married. This is significant. And if the scroll work on a map matches the engraving on the locket, that is highly unusual.”

  Ginger nodded. “Good points.”

  I interrupted. “Wait, so what went on in the art gallery? When you touched the frame, Star, what happened?”

  Star drew a deep breath. “I froze and saw the Civil War being fought. Then it faded to a woman churning butter. She spoke to me and she was crying because she was embarrassed.”

  Blake asked, “What was she embarrassed about?”

  Lily sat up straight whispered to him. “Oh, that is such a smart question, Mr. Winston.”

  Star shrugged. “I came out of the trance before I found out. But the woman in my vision was the woman in the locket. And one of the escaping slaves I saw was in the painting.”

  Dog Breath blinked uncontrolled. “What? How could you see the woman in the locket? And what slave?”

  Ida chuckled. “There’s a painting in the art gallery across the street and it shows a woman churning butter talking to a group of slaves.”

  Dog added, “You left that part out. That makes more sense.”

  I chuckled, “I have to admit, there are quite a few pieces to this puzzle and I’m getting confused myself, partner.”

  Blake asked, “Do you have the map here?”

  Ida replied. “Yep.”

  The historian continued. “May I please see it?”

  Ida laid the map on the bar with care. It had deep creases from the long storage and she rubbed the folds gently to coax it flat. “So, Digger, you still have the locket?” He nodded yes and she continued. “So, get it out and let’s see how good a match it is. I only had pictures to compare with yesterday.”

  Digger moved over to the map and laid the locket on the old piece of paper. Two things happened when the necklace touched the old map.

  “SQUAAAAAK!!!!”

  A long wail emanated from the ceiling that sounded like a cross of a woman’s voice and chicken’s squawk. We all jumped and looked around as if to see the chicken ghost among us. Then, a faint spot of light glowed, as if a small LED light was shining beneath the map. Digger gasped. “That’s the cemetery where I work. And I know this spot. The grass grows different there and neither bird nor animal tread there. It’s rumored to be the grave of a w
itch.”

  Blake gushed. “Look close, you can make out the name Walsh as a small watermark under the glowing spot. We must go there, see why the map pointed to this particular spot.”

  Edith swooned. “So brave. I knew it when I first laid eyes you.”

  Digger cut off Edith. “I’ll take ya, Mr. Historian, but only in broad daylight. We can go right after I finish my lunch. Things can get weird in the cemetery at night, especially at that spot.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Digger

  The historian kept asking questions while I tried to enjoy my burger and beer. It was obvious that I needed to make this trip to the cemetery immediately. Or Blake would talk me to death.

  Blake babbled. “It could mean just about anything, but the most obvious is the Confederate gold is buried there. Why else would the scroll work of a famous Civil War-era New York City jeweler be on a map of Potter’s Mill?”

  I snapped. “Don’t you ever stop talking?”

  The old historian flinched. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was irritating you.”

  “I’m not sure irritating is a strong enough word.” I glared at him.

  Ginger laughed. “I see you two aren’t destined to be best friends, maybe someone else should go with you to the cemetery.”

  The spinster sisters both perked up. Edith spoke. “We would gladly accompany Blake to the cemetery.”

  Ginger shook her head no. “This may involve digging. I think we should send a young, strong body.”

  The swinging door from the kitchen flew open. Bones sprinted out and I think he attempted to make his chest appear bigger. The young grill cook said, “I can go and I’m good at digging.”

  “Well, if there is digging to do, I think I can handle it. My name is Digger after all.”

  Ginger added, “Digger, I know, but it would be good for Bones to help. Make it easier for you to deal with whatever else you find. And on that point, maybe someone else should go to help document things. Like Piper.”

  Piper choked on her lunch. After clearing her throat, she replied. “Oh no, I’m not a cemetery kind of girl.”

  Ginger squinted. “But you’re a journalist. Don’t you want the story?”

  Piper snorted. “Sure, but I’ll report this story as told by eyewitnesses.”

  Ida spoke. “I’ll go. I have cameras and I can check things online remotely, both of which may help.”

  Blake added. “I have my camera too. But if you can get internet access remotely, that would be useful.”

  Ginger slapped the bar. “It’s settled. The cemetery recon team is Ida, Digger, Bones, and Blake.”

  Lily ogled the newcomer. “Blake, please be careful.”

  I heard enough. “For crying out loud. Let’s just get this over with. Is everyone ready to go?”

  Ida and Bones nodded yes. Blake just stared at me. He finally said, “I’m not sure. I may need equipment.”

  “We have everything we need. If you find you need something else, we can always go back when you get your gear.”

  Blake agreed and we made for the exit. Unsurprising, Blake talked the whole time as we walked. “We think the remote location and unusual paranormal activity made Bear’s Paw Swamp the perfect location to hide the Confederate gold. But the other historians and I argue all the time over who owns the gold and what do they want to do with it?”

  Ida interrupted. “You’re so sure about this treasure, but what if the gold isn’t there? Aren’t you scientist types supposed to have an open mind?”

  “Yes. But nothing stops us from having hope, too.” Blake smiled at her.

  I pointed. “There it is. The only plot in the place where the grass grows short and yellow. And all the animals avoid the spot.”

  Blake power walked over to the plot. He scanned the area and spun to me. “Digger, can we excavate?”

  I rubbed my chin. “Maybe. It’s only a rumor that this is a witch’s burial site, so it’s not officially a grave.”

  Bones said, “Where do you keep the shovels. No sense wasting time.” I pointed to the work shed and Bones made a beeline. After a couple of minutes, he returned and smiled at me. “I got us both a shovel. I know digging here can be tough, so I grabbed some extra help.” Bones held up a pickax to show me.

  Bones manned one shovel and me the other. We dug, for an hour, till my shovel made a solid thud on what was unmistakably a piece of wood. I stopped and knelt for a closer look. It was a small chest.

  Blake gasped. “It’s the gold!”

  Bones smiled and Ida must have broken her jaw to hang so low. Ida gathered herself and whipped out her phone. “Let me get some pictures to document this. This could be a major find.”

  I removed the chest from the hole and placed on a flat patch of grass. Blake studied the old box and said, “This is so beautiful. Look at the blacksmith work on the lock and hinges. And the wood seems to be yew. Makes sense if it was intended to be buried.”

  Bones exclaimed, “Open it.”

  Blake responded, “That’s just it, the lock is unusual and it has no keyhole. I can’t open it.”

  “Here let me see.” I did not trust this old microscope jockey. But he was right, I did not find a way to open the lock.

  Ida said, “We should take this back to the pub. Let everyone have a look and see if we can figure out how to open it.”

  Bones nodded yes, Blake stared at her, and I said, “Not yet, there may be more in the dirt.”

  Blake’s eyes widened. “You’re right. We should keep digging for a bit, make sure we don’t miss something.”

  Bones and I jumped back in the hole and dug until the blisters and sweat told us we went deep enough. At that point, we were certain the chest was the only thing buried. It was time to return to the pub. We climbed out of the hole and headed for The Grumpy Chicken with the chest.

  Blake again tried to domineer the talk on the way back. But this time, he had competition. Ida and Bones chattered and kept him from controlling the conversation. We walked back into the pub to find a large, but quiet crowd.

  “What happened here?” I rarely found the pub this quiet.

  Ginger answered, “We’re not sure, Digger. About an hour ago, the grumper went mad. Some of the usual stuff she does to cause trouble. But this time Star blacked out and the dancing giant returned. The thuds of his feet cracked some tiles. Look!” She pointed at a spot on the floor.

  Dixie exclaimed, “And we saw the chicken! She was just a reflection in the mirror. But me and Ginger saw her.”

  Star sat a dining table appearing weary. I sat next to her. “Are you okay, Star?” I placed the chest on the dining table.

  “I’m not sure. I never blacked out like that and I feel like I have a hangover.”

  Edith and Lily raced over to Blake. Lily gushed, “It was horrible. The thuds from the floor shook the room and we thought Star was dead.” She hugged him. “Are you alright?”

  Blake tried to pry Lily off. “I’m fine. Does this kind of thing happen here a lot?”

  Dixie yelled back at him from the bar, “More than ya know!”

  The historian raised his eyebrows. “That’s kind of disturbing.”

  Lily realized I carried something. She asked, “Digger, what’s that?”

  “Obviously a chest. But we can’t open it to see what’s inside.”

  Guardrail hollered, “The gold?”

  “Nope, I don’t think so. It’s too light.” I knew after carrying it back from the cemetery.

  Ginger examined the old box. “This lock is so unusual. But we need to open it.”

  Dog Breath cut in. “I know someone who might be able to help.”

  In unison, we all shot back, “Who?”

  Dog replied, “Elias Holland.”

  Ginger gasped. “Elias? Why him?”

  Dog shrugged. “He’s smart, good with this kind of thing. Everyone thinks he just knows gaming, but he is good with mechanical things, too. But I seem to be the only one who actually talks to
him when he comes in here.”

  Ginger sighed. “I don’t know. He’s kept pretty much to himself since that business with his Mom’s death. It seems like a long shot.”

  Dog Breath scanned the crowd. “It’s just an idea. Does anyone have a better one?”

  The room fell silent.

  Ida chuckled. “Well, that’s just what we need, someone else involved in this. But not just another person, the slightly unstable son whose mom was murdered by her money-grubbing fifth husband. And don’t forget her first four husbands all died under mysterious circumstances. Yeah, Elias sounds like the guy we need right now.”

  Ginger raised her eyebrows and studied Ida. “Wow, that was a mouthful. Were you channeling Dixie?”

  Dixie complained. “Hey, don’t lump me into that. I think Dog had a good idea.”

  Blake spoke meekly. “I have some resources, too. I can send pictures of the chest, see if they know anything or have any ideas.” His voice trailed off.

  Dixie chuckled and ignored the historian. “Hey, let's send Digger to fetch Elias at the cat house. We all know how much he likes cats.”

  Ginger smiled. “That’s the Dixie I know.”

  I glared at Dixie. “Over my dead body!”

  Blake’s face went long and his eyes grew wide. “I am starting to think you’re all slightly off.”

  Piper laughed. “Nah, that’s just the way it is in The Grumpy Chicken. You get used to the ghost chicken after a while.”

  Blake took a stool at the bar. “I think I need a sherry if you would be so kind.”

  Dixie snorted. “Sherry huh? We don’t serve that very often. Let me see if we still have a bottle.”

  Blake produced a phone and made calls while he sipped the sherry. At the same time, the group chose Dog Breath for the task of visiting Elias and asking for help. And with that, the effort was on to open the chest.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Dog Breath

  It is hard for me to blend, but I worked on improving my social skills over the years. Guardrail nicknamed me Dog Breath, despite my objections, and the why is a long story. But he is my best friend and business partner, so he gets me better than most.