Witch Is How Dreams Became Reality (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 32)

by Adele Abbott

  The witch seated there was staring at the empty cup on the table in front of her. It was obvious that she’d been crying.

  “Felicity, this is my cousin, Jill.”

  “Hi.” Her weak smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Amber said you might be able to help me.”

  “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Amber turned back to the counter. “Shout me if you need anything.”

  “I wouldn’t say no to a latte.” I got in quickly. “And a blueberry muffin wouldn’t go amiss.”

  “Sure. What about you, Felicity?”

  “I’m okay, thanks.” She grabbed a tissue from her bag and blew her nose. “Did Amber tell you what had happened?”

  “No. She just asked me to come straight over. Why don’t you talk me through it?”

  “My husband, Monty, has disappeared.”

  “When did he go missing?”

  “Yesterday. He didn’t come home from work.”

  “What is it your husband does?”

  “He’s a postman.”

  “Has he gone missing before?”

  “Never. It’s not something he would ever do. He knows how much I worry.”

  “Did he go to work as normal yesterday?”

  “Yes, at the crack of dawn like he always does.”

  “What time is that?”

  “He’s usually out of the house by five-thirty.”

  “I assume you’re still in bed when he leaves?”

  “No. I always get up and make him coffee and breakfast.”

  “You do?”

  “It seems only fair, doesn’t it?”

  “Err, yeah, I guess so.” I tried to imagine myself doing the same for Jack. “And how was he when he set off for work?”

  “Fine.”

  “It didn’t seem like anything was bothering him?”

  “No. He just gave me a hug and a kiss as normal.”

  “When did you realise something was wrong?”

  “Not until I got home from work at five o’clock. He always has a cup of tea waiting for me, but there was no sign of him. I thought at first that he must have nipped out somewhere, but then I realised he’d never come home.”

  “How did you know he hadn’t been home and gone out again?”

  “His uniform wasn’t in the wardrobe; the first thing he always does when he gets home is to take that off. Even then, I wasn’t too concerned because he does occasionally go out with some of his friends from work. Normally, though, when he does that, he lets me know. When he still wasn’t back by seven, I tried to contact him, but his phone was switched off. By nine o’clock, I was beginning to panic. I rang around everyone I could think of, but no one had seen him.”

  “What about the police?”

  “I tried them, but they won’t even file a missing person report for an adult who has been missing for less than seventy-two hours. I tried to explain that Monty isn’t the kind of person to do something like this, but they still weren’t interested. I came in here for a cup of tea to try and calm my nerves, Amber saw me crying, and asked what was wrong. She seemed to think you might be able to help. Can you?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll certainly try. Worst case scenario, I don’t come up with anything, and you can still go to the police.”

  “That’s great. What else do you need from me?”

  “A photo of your husband and a contact at his place of work would be a good starting point.”

  Once I had all the information I needed from Felicity, I walked her to the door, and then went back to finish my coffee and muffin.

  “Will you be able to help Felicity?” Amber came to join me.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve said I’ll try. How’s Bella—err—Jemima doing?”

  “Fabulously. The parents all love her. The biggest challenge is trying to make sure we don’t call her by the wrong name.”

  “I hope it works out. She doesn’t deserve to be punished for what her mother did.”

  “You’re right. By the way, Pearl and I have come up with our most brilliant plan yet for Cuppy C.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking. This place is doing just fine. Why can’t you leave well alone?”

  “You see, Jill, that’s always been your problem. You’re too willing to sit back and rest on your laurels.”

  “Rubbish! I’m always looking for ways to innovate the business.”

  “Really? And what was the last thing you did to innovate your business?”

  “I—err—”

  “I’m waiting.”

  “Don’t pressure me.”

  “That business has barely changed since you took over from your dad.”

  “Rubbish. Only last month, I purchased a staple remover.”

  “Staple remover?” She laughed.

  “It’s really difficult to take out staples by hand. That purchase has saved me countless hours.”

  “Is that the only thing you can come up with?”

  “Of course not. I have a full-blown social media presence now.”

  “And when was the last time you updated any of those?”

  “Err, I don’t remember the exact date.”

  “Was it this week?”

  “Err—”

  “This month?”

  “Never mind about my business. What kind of crazy idea have the two of you concocted this time?”

  “Cats.”

  “You’re not going to try and stage a musical in here, are you? It’s not nearly big enough.”

  “Not the musical. Just cats.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “A cat café of course.”

  “Are you going to be selling to cats, too? Because if that’s your brilliant plan, I have some bad news for you. Cats don’t have any disposable income. Winky excepted, obviously.”

  “That’s not what we’re doing. There’ll be cats here in the tearoom for the customers.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s the latest craze in the human world.”

  “I had no idea. What’s the plan, then?”

  “To get some cats, of course.”

  “Is that it? Just bring in a few cats?”

  “More or less. That’s the great part about it. There’s no other expense really.”

  “Where are you going to get the cats from?”

  “We’ve already got that covered. We’ve contacted a company called Cat City. They specialise in providing cats to cat cafés. And the best part is that these cats are all trained to be in a café environment from the time they’re kittens, so they won’t be freaked out by the customers.”

  “It does at least sound like you’ve done your research this time.”

  “We always do our research.”

  “Hmm. And when does this transformation take place?”

  “If everything goes according to plan, it should happen next week.”

  “As soon as that?”

  “Why not? There’s no time like the present.”

  I left Amber and her crazy ideas behind and magicked myself back to the office.

  “Hey, Winky, you’re a cat.”

  “I’ve always said there are no flies on you, haven’t I?” He grinned. “Apart from that one time when you forgot about the ham sandwich in your jacket pocket. There were a lot of bluebottles hovering around you that day, I seem to remember.”

  “Don’t remind me. Have you ever heard of cat cafés?”

  “Of course I have.”

  “I don’t mean cafés run by cats for cats.”

  “I’m not stupid. I know what a cat café is. Everyone has heard of them.”

  “I hadn’t.”

  “Yeah, well, everyone except you, then. They’re big business.”

  “I don’t get the appeal of them.”

  “Of course you don’t. That’s why you’ll never be an entrepreneur.”

  “Is there a cat café here in Washbridge?”

  “One opened a couple of weeks ago, I believe. Why are you
so interested in cat cafés all of a sudden? Are you thinking of giving this lot up to do something that might actually make some money?”

  “No, I’m not. My cousins are going to convert their tearoom into a cat café.”

  “Good for them. At least someone in your family has a clue.”

  ***

  On my way out of the door, I bumped into the two Pigeon Purge guys, who were packing stuff into their van. Even before they spoke, I could tell Harriet had done her job. Their faces were white, and their eyes were as wide as saucers.

  “Have you finished already, guys?”

  “We’ve done as much as we’re doing here.”

  “But I don’t think you’ve done my ledge.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us she was real?”

  “Harriet? If I recall correctly, that’s exactly what I told you.”

  “Have you seen her?” He shivered. “She’s horrible.”

  “I’ve always found Harriet to be a friendly soul.”

  “But her head! It talks.”

  “Does Mr Macabre know you haven’t finished the job?”

  “I don’t care if he knows or not. If he wants that last ledge doing, he’ll have to find someone else to do it. I’m not going back up there again.”

  “Fair enough. I assume you guys will be headed home now. Headed home? Get it?”

  It was obvious they didn’t have a sense of humour because neither of them so much as cracked a smile.

  Chapter 11

  Ever since the inaugural meeting of the community band, Jack had taken to practising the ukulele at every possible opportunity. This morning, as soon as he’d finished his muesli, he was off into the lounge to have yet another strum.

  “Do you have to make that awful row at this time of day?” I sighed.

  “I think I’m getting better.”

  “You’re not. Trust me on this one. Why don’t you try leaning on the lamppost?”

  “The George Formby classic?”

  “No, I meant why don’t you go outside and lean on the lamppost, so that I don’t have to listen to that awful noise.”

  “Your problem is that you don’t know good music when you hear it.”

  “Says you. By the way, I had another really weird dream.”

  “I’ve told you why you’re having them. It’s because you eat custard creams too close to bedtime.”

  “Don’t you want to know what it was about?”

  “Not really.”

  “I’d turned into a muffin, and I was being chased by lots of people who wanted to eat me. It was horrible because no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get away.”

  “I reckon there’s a message in there somewhere.”

  “Do you think there’s some deep psychological meaning?”

  “No, it’s because you’re obsessed with muffins.”

  “I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough.”

  “I dreamt about ukuleles.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me? Hey, I meant to ask, have you heard of cat cafés?”

  “Of course I have. They’re all the rage. In fact, one opened in Washbridge a couple of weeks ago.”

  “That’s what Winky said. Where is it?”

  “Just around the corner from the police station. I saw it when I was over there last week. They appeared to be doing a roaring trade.”

  “What’s it called? Do you remember?”

  “Meow!”

  “How very original.”

  “We should check it out sometime.”

  “Whatever for? I spend all day with an annoying cat. Why would I want to visit a café full of them?”

  “The cats are cute.”

  “The twins apparently think so too. They’re talking about transforming Cuppy C into a cat café.”

  “That’s a brilliant idea.”

  “I’m just waiting to see what goes wrong.”

  “They might surprise you.”

  “They might, but if past experience is anything to go by, I doubt it.”

  “Incidentally, you haven’t forgotten I might be late home tonight, have you?”

  “Are you attending a meeting of the ukulele appreciation society?”

  “Very funny. There’s a joint conference today between the Washbridge and West Chipping forces; it’s being held at our station. We’re going to discuss ways we can co-operate and share resources. I did tell you about it.”

  To be fair, he probably had, but it was so boring that I would have filed it under don’t care. “Will Sushi be there?”

  “More than likely.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “No reason.”

  “Are you up to something, Jill?”

  “Moi? Of course not.”

  Snigger.

  ***

  “These flowers arrived for you a few minutes ago, Jill.” Mrs V handed me the bouquet of tulips.

  “Who are they from?”

  “I didn’t look.”

  “Mrs V?”

  “Well, I did happen to notice the card, but purely by accident. They’re from Harold and Ida—no surname. Are they clients?”

  “In a manner of speaking. Are there any other messages for me?”

  “Just the one: Someone called from Middle Tweaking Theatre. They said you’d enquired about hiring the venue for a day. I assumed they must have got the wrong number, but the lady was quite insistent.”

  “Actually, I did make an enquiry with them.”

  “Why do you need a theatre?”

  “It’s connected to the problems Clown have been having. What did the lady say?”

  “That the theatre was free on Tuesday or Wednesday morning next week, and that you should give her a call if you were interested.”

  “In that case, would you phone her back and book Wednesday morning, please?”

  “You shouldn’t have,” Winky reached for the flowers.

  “These are not for you. Harold and Ida sent them to me.” I walked over to the open window and popped my head out. “Harold? Ida? Are you there?”

  “Hi, Jill.” Harold came trotting along the window ledge; Ida was a few steps behind him.

  “Thank you for the beautiful flowers, but it really wasn’t necessary.”

  “It’s the least we could do,” Ida said. “You saved our home.”

  “I hope the ghost didn’t scare you too much.”

  “Harriet? Not at all. She was lovely.”

  “The guys from Pigeon Purge probably wouldn’t agree.”

  “Do you think they’ll come back and try again?” Ida said.

  “I doubt we’ll see those particular guys back here, but it’s always possible that Macabre might try again using a different firm. You needn’t worry, though, because Harriet said that she’d be happy to give a repeat performance if necessary.”

  Winky was on his phone, and although I could only hear one half of the conversation, something was clearly amiss.

  “Where have you looked?” he said. “Try not to worry. I’m sure he’ll be okay. Let me know if there’s any update.”

  “What was that all about?” I asked when he’d finished on the call.

  “Gavin the Grub has gone missing.”

  “Is he a friend of yours?”

  “More of an acquaintance. That was his partner, Gemma the Jems. Apparently, Gavin’s been missing for a few days, which isn’t like him.”

  “It’s funny you should say that because Lovely and Bruiser have disappeared too.”

  “That’s no loss. No one is going to miss those two losers.”

  “Their owners do.”

  “Their what?”

  “Okay, okay. If you’re going to insist on being so pedantic: The people who share their houses with them are worried.”

  “The mystery thickens. Maybe there’s a catnapper hereabouts. You should investigate.”

  “Why does everyone keep suggesting that? I’ve got more than enough on my
plate at the moment, thank you very much. Why don’t you investigate it? You’re always telling me you’d make a great P.I. This is your chance to prove it.”

  “I might just do that. Do you have a magnifying glass I can borrow?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “What about a deerstalker?”

  “No self-respecting P.I. would wear one of those.”

  ***

  I wanted to find out exactly what the police knew about the Forrest case. Somehow, though, I didn’t think they’d be particularly receptive to an information request from me. Fortunately, Jack had given me an idea for how I could get inside the building. The only downside to the plan was that for a couple of hours, I’d have to look like Sushi.

  After I’d cast the ‘doppelganger’ spell, I stole a quick look in the mirror, and let me tell you, seeing Sushi staring back at me was not a pleasant experience. Hopefully, though, it would do the job.

  “Morning, ma’am.” The officer on desk duty nodded. “I thought you were at the conference today?”

  “I should be, but something urgent cropped up. Get the door for me, would you?” I gestured to the pile of files I was carrying.

  “Of course, ma’am.” He used his card to swipe me through.

  I quite liked being called ma’am. Maybe I should insist on Mrs V calling me that from now on.

  The joint conference meant that there were far fewer people around than on my previous visits to the police station.

  I’d just started up the stairs when—

  “Susan?”

  I turned around to find a plain clothes officer standing there.

  “Hi.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be over at West Chipping?”

  “Yes, but something urgent on the Forrest case has cropped up.”

  “Really? I haven’t heard anything about it.”

  “It only just came through.”

  I was about to continue up the stairs when he said, “Let me take those for you.” Before I could object, he’d grabbed the pile of files. “To your office?”

  “Err, yeah.”

  “After you.” He stood to one side to allow me to go first.

  Oh bum! Which one was Sushi’s office? Hopefully, there would be names on the doors.

  There weren’t.

  As I walked down the corridor, I glanced through the windows on either side, hoping to spot something that would identify Sushi’s office. Three doors in, I spotted a pink umbrella in the corner of one of the offices.