Witch Is Why The Moon Disappeared (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 17)

by Adele Abbott

  “How did Wrongacre’s son die?”

  “No one knows. There are no records which detail what happened to him. What I can tell you though, is that Damon was planning to marry at the time.”

  “Marry who?”

  “Again, there’s no record of that. All we have to go on are the rumours that have been passed down over the years.”

  “What rumours?”

  “That Braxmore was responsible for Damon’s death. I assume you’ve heard of Braxmore?”

  “Yes. From what I understand, Wrongacre and he were wizard grandmasters?”

  “That’s right. Back then, they were by far the most powerful wizards in the supernatural world. Wrongacre was renowned for his fairness and acts of kindness. Braxmore was the polar opposite—evil incarnate.”

  “What happened to Braxmore? I’ve heard rumours he might still be alive.”

  “It’s possible, but I don’t know.”

  I thanked Margaret for her time, and she gave me an open invitation to return at any time. I still had many more questions than answers, and I was beginning to think that the only way I’d ever get those answers, would be to return to CASS.

  ***

  While I was in Candlefield, I decided I might as well pick up Barry, and magic him back to Smallwash with me. When I arrived at Aunt Lucy’s, both she and Barry were in the back garden. As soon as he saw me, he came rushing over.

  “Steady on, boy.”

  Aunt Lucy seemed distracted, and kept sniffing the air.

  “Aunt Lucy? Are you okay?”

  “Sorry, Jill. Yes, I’m fine. Can you smell that?”

  I sniffed the air. “I can smell something sweet. What is it?”

  “I don’t know. It seems to have been hanging around in the air for a couple of days now.” She turned to Barry. “I assume you’ve come for him?”

  “I have.”

  “Where are we going?” Barry began to jump up and down with excitement. “Are we going to the park? I love the park. Can we go for a walk? Can we, Jill? I love to go for walks. Please, can we?”

  “Are you sure it’s a good idea to take him to Washbridge?” Aunt Lucy looked doubtful.

  “Not really, but Jack is adamant that we should get a dog, and I don’t want to have another one in the human world. Barry is enough dog for me.”

  “He’s enough for anyone.”

  “What about when you’re both out at work?”

  “Mrs Rollo, our next-door neighbour, has said she’d like to take him for walks when we’re at work.”

  “I’m going to miss the big soft thing.” Aunt Lucy looked close to tears.

  “You’ll still see him. And if things don’t work out, he could be back before the week is up.”

  “Are we going to the park, Jill?” Barry jumped up at me. “Are we? Are we?”

  “No. We’re going somewhere much more exciting.”

  I attached the lead to his collar, and then magicked the two of us over to my house in Smallwash.

  “Where are we?” Barry pulled at the lead.

  “This is your new home.”

  “I want to look around. Can I? Can I?”

  “Yes, but you’re not allowed to go upstairs. Okay?”

  “I promise.”

  I unclipped the lead.

  “Barry! Come back down those stairs! Barry, get out of that bedroom!”

  Oh bum! What had I done?

  Chapter 14

  “You were the one who said you wanted a dog!” I yelled at Jack.

  “I didn’t say I wanted a crazy dog.”

  “Barry’s not crazy. He’s just excitable.”

  “Can I go for a walk?” Barry appeared at the bottom of the bed. I’d taken him downstairs a dozen times during the night, but each time he was back upstairs again within a few minutes.

  “No, you can’t!”

  “He can’t what?” Jack looked puzzled.

  Oh bum! I kept forgetting that Jack couldn’t hear Barry talk.

  “I think he wants to go for a walk.”

  “How do you know that? Maybe he’s just hungry.”

  “Yeah. I suppose that could be it.”

  “No, I’m not hungry.” Barry put his front paws onto my side of the bed. “I want to go for a walk. Can we, Jill? Can we?”

  “I’ll give him some food.” Jack climbed out of bed.

  “I’m pretty sure he wants to go for a walk.”

  “I know you think you know everything about everything, Jill, but I’m fairly sure that even you can’t read a dog’s mind.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged.

  Jack threw on some clothes, started down the stairs, and called Barry. “Come on, boy!”

  Barry went charging after him.

  I checked the second hand on my watch: Fifteen seconds, thirty seconds, forty-five seconds.

  “I think he wants to go for a walk, Jill,” Jack called from downstairs.

  “I told you. You take him, and I’ll take him tonight.”

  Oh boy. This was going to be hard work. Maybe having Winky here wouldn’t have been such a bad idea?

  Who was I kidding?

  ***

  My phone rang. It was Grandma.

  Great! After a sleepless night, with Barry running around the house, the last thing I needed was her on my back.

  “Jill, can you get over to Candlefield, straight away?”

  Had I misheard? Had Grandma just asked me to do something? Normally, she would have said ‘get over here now’. Maybe she wasn’t feeling well?

  “What’s going on, Grandma?”

  “Do you remember Lucy and I told you about Imelda Barrowtop?”

  “The oldest witch in Candlefield?”

  “Yes. Her condition has deteriorated rather rapidly. It seems she doesn’t have much longer.”

  “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  “I went to see her last night. Her vision is fading, and she’s almost deaf, but she managed to tell us that she wanted to speak to someone about Magna Mondale’s book.”

  “What about it?”

  “I don’t know. She just kept repeating that she wanted to talk to someone about Magna Mondale’s book. And you, young lady, are the obvious candidate.”

  “But, I don’t know Imelda Barrowtop, and she certainly doesn’t know me.”

  “That may be so, but the least you can do for someone of her standing in the witch community, is to grant her final wish.”

  “Of course. If you think it will help.”

  “It can’t do any harm. Can you get over here straight away?”

  “Yes. Where shall I meet you?”

  “At Lucy’s. Imelda is at her daughter’s house, which isn’t far from there.”

  “Okay. I’m on my way.”

  Just as Grandma had said, Imelda Barrowtop’s daughter’s house was only a short distance from Aunt Lucy’s. The house was full of Imelda’s friends and relations, mainly witches and wizards. Imelda Barrowtop was obviously held in very high regard.

  “Follow me.” Grandma led the way to the back of the house. “Don’t expect too much from her,” she cautioned. “She keeps drifting in and out of consciousness.”

  I followed Grandma into a room which had been converted into a makeshift bedroom. The other furniture, which had been moved to one side, suggested it would normally have been used as a dining room.

  The scene that greeted us was reminiscent of the first time I’d met my birth mother, on her deathbed. Imelda Barrowtop looked frail and ghostly white. Seated next to the bed, was a woman who looked to be a similar age to Grandma. When she saw us walk into the room, she came over to greet us.

  “This is Jill,” Grandma said, in a whisper. “She was the one who took Magna Mondale’s book from the sealed room.”

  “Thank you for coming, Jill.” The woman took my hand. “Mirabel, would you mind waiting outside?”

  For a moment, I thought Grandma was going to object, but she just nodded, and left the room.

  �
��I’m Petunia, Imelda’s daughter. She’s been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while now, but whenever she wakes, she asks about Magna Mondale’s book. I have no idea why—I don’t recall her mentioning it before. I’m sorry to drag you here like this, but your grandmother said you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I’m happy to speak to your mother, if you think it will help.”

  “I’m not sure if it will or not. Little of what she says now, makes any sense. And, she’s sleeping more and more. Maybe if you could sit by the bed for a while—just in case she wakes?”

  “Sure.”

  “Would you mind if I went to get a drink and something to eat? I’m beginning to feel a little faint myself.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll be fine here.”

  Petunia thanked me again, and then disappeared out of the door. I took a seat next to the bed. Imelda’s eyes were closed, and her breathing was very shallow. If I’m honest, I was hoping that she wouldn’t wake up while I was alone with her.

  “Magna.” The old woman’s eyes opened, and she stared straight at me.

  “No, I’m Jill Gooder.”

  “Magna, thank goodness you’re here.” Her voice was very weak.

  I didn’t bother to correct her again. If she thought I was Magna, what harm could it do?

  “Magna, did you finish work on the spell?”

  I leaned forward, so my mouth was closer to her ear. “Which spell?”

  “The ‘double dark’ spell.” Her whole body seemed to shake with the effort of speaking.

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but I could see that she was getting more and more agitated.

  “Yes, I’ve finished it.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “That’s good.” She let out a breath. “I can rest in peace now.”

  That seemed to calm her down because she became still again. But then, after a few minutes, I realised that her breathing had stopped altogether. I quickly checked for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. She was dead.

  I hurried to tell Petunia who rushed to her mother’s side.

  “What happened?” Grandma grabbed my arm.

  “She’s dead.”

  “What did she say to you?”

  “She thought I was Magna Mondale. I tried to tell her that I wasn’t, but it didn’t do any good. She asked if I’d finished work on the ‘double dark’ spell. Do you have any idea what that is?”

  Grandma shrugged.

  A few minutes later, Petunia re-joined us.

  “Thank you for being with her at the end, Jill. Did she say anything before she died?”

  I was about to tell her what had been said when I saw Grandma shake her head.

  “No. She never woke up,” I lied.

  After we’d left the house, I asked Grandma why she’d done that.

  “Better for Petunia to think her mother died peacefully. She’d only fret over the meaning of her mother’s final words, which were probably nonsense anyway.”

  “Do you think so? Is it possible the ‘double dark’ spell was something Magna had been working on?”

  “You read her book. Did you see any mention of it?”

  “I don’t remember anything like that, but then I didn’t have time to study everything in the book in detail because I was forced to dispose of it in the dark well.”

  “Best to let sleeping dogs lie, I’d say.”

  For once, I agreed with Grandma.

  ***

  I’d asked Arthur Pine if he would arrange for me to meet with his ex-wife, Lorraine Steel, who was Carol Pine’s mother. He’d also set up a meeting for me with Kimberly West’s parents, Stephen and Irene.

  The Wests lived in an unassuming bungalow in Bigwash, the village adjacent to Smallwash. As they sat next to one another on a white two seater sofa, they both looked as though they hadn’t slept properly for some time—understandable under the circumstances.

  “I’m sorry to intrude in this way,” I said.

  “It’s okay,” Stephen West said. “We’ll do anything that might help to get Kimberly back.”

  “Do you have any information about Kimberly?” Irene West sounded desperate. “We were hoping that you might know something. The police haven’t told us anything.”

  “I’m afraid not—not yet. Arthur Pine has asked me to investigate the two disappearances, so I’m in the process of speaking to everyone who knew Kimberly or Carol.”

  Irene West couldn’t hide her disappointment. “When Arthur said you wanted to talk to us, I thought maybe you knew something.”

  “It’s alright, Irene.” Her husband took hold of her hand. “Kimberly is going to be okay. She’s going to come back home to us, isn’t she, Miss Gooder?”

  How was I supposed to answer that? I wasn’t sure if either Carol or Kimberly was still alive, but the Wests didn’t want to hear that.

  “I’m going to do everything I can to find out what happened to your daughter. I’ll need to ask you a few questions, if you feel up to it?”

  “Anything,” Irene said. “What do you want to know?”

  “I take it that Kimberly lived at home with you?”

  “Yes, but she’d only moved back in quite recently,” Stephen said. “Before that, she had a good job in London, and she was engaged to be married.”

  “Until the pig dumped her!” Irene spat the words.

  “The pig?”

  “His name was Robin,” Stephen said. “They’d been engaged for six months when he called it off—totally out of the blue. We think there must have been someone else, but Kimberly says he just got cold feet.”

  “Do you have Robin’s full name and address?”

  “It wouldn’t do you any good,” Stephen said. “Robin moved to Australia a couple of months before Kimberly disappeared. He’s got a job out there, I believe.”

  “So, Kimberly moved back home after her relationship broke up? What about the job she had in London?”

  “She just gave in her notice, and left. We tried to talk her into sticking with the job, but she wanted to come home. The break-up devastated her, as you can imagine.”

  “And then she got the job at Grover?”

  “That was my fault.” Irene sobbed. “I was desperate to get her to go out of the house again. I was worried that she’d fall into a depression if she stayed in here for weeks on end. I saw the job advertised in the local paper, and suggested it would do as a stopgap until she found something better.”

  “Did she seem to enjoy working at Grover?”

  “Not really.” Stephen managed a weak laugh. “Kimberley said it was very boring, but at least it put some cash in her purse. After she’d been there a while, though, she seemed to buck up a little, didn’t she, Irene?”

  Irene nodded. “She started to go out in the evenings. We thought she’d met someone.”

  “Had she?”

  “We asked her,” Stephen said. “But she said that she hadn’t.”

  “Does Kimberly keep a diary?”

  “No.” Irene shook her head. “She never has.”

  “Does she have many friends around here?”

  “Not really. Most of her friends went to university around the same time as Kimberly did, and they never came back to the area.”

  “Do you have any theories at all as to what might have happened to your daughter?”

  “We think someone must have given her a lift after work that day.” Stephen looked at his wife who nodded in agreement. “Whoever it was, Kimberly must have known them because she wouldn’t have got into a car with a stranger. Not unless someone forced her to.”

  At that, Irene broke down in tears.

  I asked if they would mind if I took a look around Kimberly’s room. They had no objections, but it proved to be fruitless, and yielded no clues.

  Seeing the Wests had brought home to me just how big a responsibility I had on my shoulders. I had to find out what had happened to the missing women. The pain and despair of not knowing was etched on Irene an
d Stephen’s faces—they deserved an answer—even if that answer was not what they were hoping for.

  Chapter 15

  After I’d finished at the West’s house, I drove into Washbridge, and made my way to the office. Jules was behind the desk, and obviously bursting to ask me something.

  “What’s it like, Jill?”

  “What’s what like?”

  “The new mall, of course. It opened today. When you didn’t come in this morning, I assumed that was where you’d gone.”

  “I’ve been working on a case. I sent you an email, didn’t you see it?”

  “Whoops, sorry. I haven’t got around to checking my email yet.”

  Too busy YouTubing, no doubt.

  “You need to check your email regularly, Jules. There might be something important.”

  “Sorry, Jill. I will from now on. I promise.”

  They’d been working on the new mall for over three years, but I’d long since come to the conclusion that they must have run out of money, and that it was never going to open.

  “Are you sure about the mall, Jules? I thought they’d abandoned that project.”

  “Haven’t you seen all the adverts in The Bugle?”

  “I try to avoid that rag whenever I can, and I haven’t been over to that part of Washbridge for a while.”

  “It’s called ‘The Central’. Gilbert’s going to be working there.”

  “Has he got a job in one of the shops?”

  “No. They’re having a pop-up stand in the main aisle of the mall for the next three days. They’re going to be giving away free samples of Magical Skincare. You should go and get some.”

  “Are you trying to say I have a bad complexion?”

  “No—err—I didn’t—mean—”

  “It’s okay. I’m only joking. Anyway, I’m not a big fan of malls.”

  “That must be because you’re old. I love them.”

  Remind me again why I employed that girl.

  As soon as I sat at my desk, Winky stood up on the sofa, and began to sniff the air.

  “I can smell dog on you.”