Torrent Witches Box Set #1 Books 1-3 (Butter Witch, Treasure Witch, Hidden Witch)

by Tess Lake

  “It’s a child and her father. It’s so heartbreaking.”

  “We’ll find who did it, Harlow. I’m sorry, I should have warned you beforehand what it was. I was wondering if any of your sources might have any extra information for us?”

  By sources, Sheriff Hardy meant witches. I knew vaguely that Aunt Cass had helped out the police in the past, something that was supposed to be kept hush-hush but had somehow become a known family secret. The sheriff’s family had lived in Harlot Bay for generations and he was very aware of the rumors surrounding our family. During the International Butter Carving Festival, one of the competitors, Harmonious Twang, had been kidnapped and taken to the gardens by Preston Jacobs and his parasitic supernatural entity accomplice. Sheriff Hardy had called, so my cousins and I had cast a finding spell to track Harmonious down. Then of course it had to be written up in the official report that we were going for a late-night stroll in the gardens and happened to come across the kidnap victim. You would really have to wonder how many times we could “coincidentally” get lucky before other police officers would start to notice. This thought seemed to occur to Sheriff Hardy at virtually the same moment.

  “I’m not saying investigate anything yourself, and certainly don’t get involved. But if you happen to have any information that might happen to lead us in a certain direction, please give me a call.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The fading echoes of Holly’s sadness was still pushing at me. Sheriff Hardy stood up and I knew that was the signal the meeting was over. I stood, nodded to him and saw myself out.

  On my way back to the office I detoured out of my way and found that happy spot on the corner. The one where witches feel warmth and happiness, love and joy, mixed with a sort of excitement running under it. I stood there for at least ten minutes with my eyes closed, the warm sun beaming down on my face, experiencing the echo of someone else’s joy.

  I didn’t know what Holly would do now. I wished I could see her again. At least maybe I could explain to her what she had heard. As much as I wanted to hug her, I wouldn’t be able to – she would fly right out of my arms. But I had no control over whether she would come back. She was a ghost, and she could appear and disappear at will.

  If I did see her again. I would ask if the initials K.M. meant anything. Perhaps she would remember her father’s name.

  After a while, the joy and happiness collected in that one spot worked on me. I had a spring in my step and I was feeling better. I was even ready to face Jonas if it came to it.

  I walked back to the office and went upstairs but didn’t run into Jonas. I did hear him in his office talking on the phone.

  I barely glanced at the charred circle on the floor. The crazy desire that produced it seemed to be a million miles away. I could hardly believe it was me who had done it. Although it was getting close to lunch I sat down at my computer and started writing in an attempt to get through some of my backlog. Just like the drive to work, the habitual nature of it calmed me and soon I was engrossed in an article about the foreshore restoration project and the tree plantings they were using to stop further erosion. Exciting stuff, I know. One of the things I love about being a writer is that I can get really interested and excited about practically anything. I hit the Internet for more information about soil erosion and how to recover from it and was deep in the world of plants and dirt and using nature to recover from the destruction that humankind wrought on the landscape when there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called out without looking up.

  “So, the girl who stood me up for a baguette.”

  The world of soil erosion and plants suddenly evaporated, leaving me sitting in my office with Jack Bishop leaning against the door frame. He was as handsome as ever. Those eyes, my gosh. That stubble. That slightly shaggy look. He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt and a pair of bone-colored shorts. Without being able to stop myself my gaze traveled down him. Those eyes, lips, strong arms and hands, the shape of his body, his legs…

  “Would you like me to turn around so you can view the back?” Jack asked and crossed his arms.

  I’d seen him three weeks ago helping his half-brother move furniture and then I had fled down the fire escape (like a strong independent woman who knows what she wants). I’d known I would probably come face to face with him again. I had hoped it would be at a moment when I was effortlessly beautiful and I would have some witty rejoinder ready to float off my lips.

  Was it too much to hope that we would meet at some spectacular charity gala event and I would be wearing an amazing evening gown and he would arrive in a suit, looking like a secret agent? He would say something charming, I would give him a witty reply and we would engage in some kind of verbal cat-and-mouse game even as we stepped closer together…

  It hadn’t really occurred to me that I might see him in the doorway of my office as I sat hunched over a computer, my hair tied up in a messy ponytail, feeling a bit sweaty because I hadn’t realized that the room had heated up.

  I summoned up all of my linguistic powers honed by years of writing and made a sound that probably could be translated as urk. My face turned red one nanosecond after that.

  “Oh, you’re blushing. Probably because you remembered that we had a date planned and then you stood me up because you suddenly went to France. No need to feel embarrassed. Come with me to the Festival of Lights down at the park tonight and we’ll forget all about it.”

  The Festival of Lights was a fundraiser to help the Harlot Bay Hospital upgrade some of its equipment and expand the number of beds. There was going to be live music, food stands and parade of glowing papier-mâché animals and fish lit up from within. It had started last year – one of the mayor’s ideas again – and this was its second year. Last year it had raised nearly fourteen thousand dollars from ticket sales and donations and was a stunning success. This year it was about three times as big, and it seemed almost everyone around town was participating. I was already going as part of my job as being a reporter and also being a good citizen. The moms were going to be there also, donating sales from their baked goods to the cause.

  “I’m already going,” I said.

  That was the witty comment I’d spent so long working on? The snarky, possibly flirty line that I had for him? Oh my Goddess, I was going to die.

  “Wonderful. I’ll see you there at seven thirty. We’ll eat a hot dog, drink a beer, see some glowing fish. You can tell me all about France. Unless of course you’re flying off to some other European country sometime this afternoon that you’ve forgotten about?”

  I shook my head. Jack smiled that roguish smile at me and in an instant he was gone.

  And yes, for the record, he did look amazing from behind in those shorts.

  As soon as he was gone I let out the breath I seemed to be holding. It felt like my office had jumped in temperature in the last two minutes.

  Had I agreed to a date? Was it a date? I was going to the festival already. We hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers.

  I walked over to the window and opened it and then turned on a fan to get some air flow happening. We were only a few days into summer but it was already quite humid and warm. I could feel my clothes sticking to me.

  I drank a glass of water straight from the tap, feeling the cool liquid gush down into my stomach.

  Okay, so it wasn’t a total disaster. Yes, my entire part of the conversation had consisted of a noise that sounded like a hamster with something stuck in its throat and then blurting out that I was already going anyway, but Jack had handled it well and now I had a date for tonight.

  At the Festival of Lights. Where my mother, two meddling aunts and Aunt Cass would be. And my cousins, also meddlers.

  “Oh no,” I groaned.

  Since Luce and Molly had joined team we-have-boyfriends in the last few weeks, they had been far too distracted to worry about me and my love life. That was, until they heard Jack was back in town. Then they’d jumped into medd
ling with the best of them. For what it was worth, my mother and aunts seemed to have backed off, giving me space after being frozen in time for six weeks. But if they saw me with Jack at the festival all hell would break loose. What could I do? I couldn’t back out now and I couldn’t stand him up twice in a row. Maybe I could find some quiet spot to hide at the festival, well away from the Big Pie bakery stand, and hope that when he found me, my cousins would be elsewhere. They’d been pressed into service working at the stand for some of the night, but then Will and Ollie would arrive and they would be set free. It seemed like there was a window where I could get a little privacy.

  My stomach grumbled, reminding me that lunch was due. I locked up my office and left, walking quickly down the stairs in case Jack was in talking to Jonas, but his office was locked up too. I wandered up past Traveler but saw Molly and Luce were frantically serving coffee to a giant double-decker bus load of tourists. Molly saw me and shook her head. They wouldn’t be able to get away for ages, so I continued on my way.

  I knew I wouldn’t be able to go to Big Pie without seeing my mother and aunts, and there was a better than fifty-fifty chance that they’d see on my face that something was going on. It wouldn’t be magic – just them sensing that they could get involved in my love life. So I took myself over to the Pie Baron’s. Big Pie does make incredible pies, but so does the Pie Baron. Also, and this was a big factor, the Pie Baron’s had excellent air conditioning. It’s run by an Australian named Bruce Higgins and they only serve pies.

  Around town people call Bruce the Pie Baron because his pies are that good.

  I had a delicious lunch (beef and mushroom pie served with a side salad and a glass of homemade ginger beer) before taking myself back to the office and going back to work. Before I knew it, it was the end of the day. Holly still hadn’t reappeared. I hadn’t decided whether I would tell Aunt Cass about Hattie Stern’s offer to train me but none of those things really mattered right now – I had to get home to get ready for the Festival of Lights. I had a date!

  When I got home. Adams was crouched down at the front of the entertainment unit, looking underneath it.

  “Hey, Adams,” I said.

  “Shh, there’s a mouse under here,” Adams whispered out the side of his mouth.

  I put my stuff down as quietly as I could and then walked over and lay down on the floor beside him. Under the back of the entertainment unit was one of his toy mice, a very well-loved brown mouse that had a rattle inside it that made a noise when you shook it. The mouse had been missing for a couple of weeks – it must have been underneath the entertainment unit this whole time. It was also right up the back and there was no way Adams would be able to reach it from where he was.

  “What are you going to do?” I whispered to him.

  “Be cool. I’m gonna go around the other side. You stay here.”

  Adams moved as stealthily as possible around the side of the entertainment unit and crouched down, his green eyes glowing as he looked under the back of the entertainment unit. Suddenly he leapt forward and scrabbled his paws under it. He hit the mouse, which shot out towards me.

  “Get it!” Adams yelled. I grabbed the mouse and then shook it, making it rattle. Adams immediately crouched down and tensed his entire body. I threw the mouse across the room and Adams followed in a blur. It bounced off the sofa, but he managed to catch it in one paw and pulled it into his mouth. He ran a few more steps and then came back and dropped the mouse next to me before backing up again. We played for a few minutes, me throwing the mouse and him fetching it before he carried it over to one of Molly’s shoes that she’d left out. He dropped the mouse in there and then sat beside it, watching.

  It was about then that Molly and Luce arrived home. They were exhausted but happy. They also smelled like coffee. I got up off the floor and looked them up and down. They looked like they’d been doused in water at some point and then wrung out to dry.

  “What’s up, coffee kids?”

  “We made eleven hundred and twenty-seven dollars today! And sixty-three cents!” Luce said, sounding like she hardly believed it herself.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “We had four double-decker buses and each of them were packed to the gills. The only reason we didn’t make more money was we ran out of coffee beans,” Molly said.

  “This is incredible!” I pulled them both into a hug.

  “Okay, we all smell bad. It’s time for showers,” Luce squeaked.

  “Shotgun!” I called out.

  Moving fast is important when you only have one bathroom.

  I had a quick shower, looked at my legs (not perfectly smooth but not hairy like a Sasquatch) and went to my room to get ready. I settled on a green skirt and a pale yellow top.

  I was having a quick snack (tasty cheese this time) when Molly and Luce emerged from their respective bedrooms. They were both in skirts and tops as well but definitely looked too dressed up to be working at a bakery stand.

  “Why are you so dressed up?” Molly asked, looking me up and down.

  “Is it Jack? Is he going to be at the festival tonight?” Luce asked.

  I sighed. So much from my plan to keep it secret. Apparently one shower had revived my cousins and returned them to their nosy best. Still, I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  “What are you talking about? Aren’t you too dressed up to be working at the bakery stand?”

  “Oh, we won’t be there for very long,” Molly said.

  “Why not?”

  “We have a plan,” Luce said.

  “Which is?”

  “We’ll tell you ours if you tell us yours,” Molly said, putting her hands on her hips.

  She obviously knew something was up but I wasn’t going to give an inch.

  “I don’t have any plans.”

  “Well, it looks like no one has plans except for going to the festival, then,” Molly said.

  Then her tone changed. “Is, um… Holly around?”

  “She vanished earlier today. I’m not sure if she’s here. I hope she is because I’d like to talk with her,” I said in a hopeful voice. I looked around, thinking that she might appear, but she didn’t.

  “Is that going okay?” Luce asked.

  I shrugged. “Sheriff Hardy already has some clues and I think they’re on to it. I saw him today. He was kind of hinting he would like some witch help if we had any to give. But I don’t really know what that might mean.”

  “Maybe ask Aunt Cass. She might know some magic to help. By the way, what was that spell last night? We could feel it all the way at the mansion,” Luce said.

  I so didn’t want to go into that at the moment.

  “It was Aunt Cass. She put out the fire with thousands of gallons of seawater. Was pretty incredible, actually.”

  I decided to move the topic off extracting heat from a fire.

  “What was up with you wearing that dress last night?”

  “Nothing. I can wear what I want. And the sooner my mother and your mother and your mother realize that, the better. Now, shall we go?” Molly said.

  The topic of conversation closed, we got in Molly’s car and drove down the park where the Festival of Lights would be taking place. On the way there we talked a bit about the money they made that day at Traveler. They still hadn’t decided whether they would go the whole way and convert into a fully fledged coffee shop. Molly was all for it but Luce still wanted to see if the money streak continued past tourist season. Also, once they started making a certain amount of money they would be expected to start paying rent. Not that anyone would really be checking on them. It was more of an honor system.

  The Festival of Lights was being held in a park down by the beach. They’d set up a temporary soundstage where musicians were already playing. It was already fairly packed and it seemed like most of the town and a lot of tourists had come down. Spread around the outside of the area were various food carts and tables and food vans. Molly and Luce went off to the Big Pie food
stall. I took a quick look around. I didn’t see Jack anywhere. There were lots of families sitting on picnic blankets and children in front of the stage dancing to the music. The sun was setting and the night was warm. It was a really beautiful place.

  I measured out the angle from where the Big Pie table was and walked out around the far side of the soundstage. There was no way they’d be able to see me. I still had a good view of the crowd and the musicians. I stood there for about twenty minutes, letting my mind drift as I listened to the music and people watched. A little toddler girl wearing a red flower-patterned dress went down to the front and was jumping around in circles. She couldn’t have been more than three years old. Noticing her led me to thinking about Holly but I quickly pulled myself away from those dark thoughts. There was nothing more I could do for Holly right now except maybe try to help find out who her father was in the hopes that perhaps that might help her move on.

  Ghosts and moving on is an inexact science. It’s really easy to think that it’s all about some unfulfilled desire or unfinished business, but the truth is we don’t really know why ghosts hang around. Mom told me once that there used to be a ghost of a man who haunted one of the upper rooms of the Harlot Bay library. According to her he’d disappeared when Aunt Cass brought in a cup of tea and set it on the table. He looked at it, exclaimed that it was a cup of tea and then dissolved in a blur of light. I honestly had no idea if ghosts were souls or spirits or a leftover echo of someone. Sometimes I thought they were a shape, like an eddy in the water. For a moment it had movement and form, but then it broke apart and returned to the river.

  I was idly thinking about ghosts and wondering how many there might be around all over the place when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around with a smile on my face, expecting it to be Jack, but it was Carter Wilkins and his eyebrows. He had a digital recorder in his hand, which he thrust out at me like a weapon.

  “Harlow Torrent, is it true that you were called in for an interview today regarding the discovery of two murder victims on Truer Island?”