Ginger of the West: A Witches of Broomfield Bay Mystery

by Meg Muldoon

I nodded.

  “We just came from a meeting with Nigel Parks,” Eddie said

  Maddy’s eyes grew as big as beach balls.

  “You talked to him?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’d he say?”

  Eddie drew in a deep breath.

  “He damn near confessed, Maddy.”

  Chapter 49

  Eddie’s phone started ringing again.

  And, for the fifth time that afternoon, he hit the silence button to quiet it.

  I didn’t need any witchy foresight to know who was calling.

  Eddie said his editor had told him he could stay in town an extra day if he could pull out another story about Penelope Ashby’s murder and Aunt Viv. I imagined that same editor was looking for a story to show up in her inbox soon. A story that Eddie couldn’t write just yet.

  “Should you answer that?”

  “No, it’s nothing,” he said.

  But I could tell by the stress in his face that it was something.

  We sat there in those same uncomfortable chairs across from Officer Bud Madsen in the Broomfield Bay Police station, waiting for Maddy to come back and get us. Though she was on suspension, she insisted on being the one to bring it to the police chief. She said he couldn’t deny her this time – not with Nigel Parks having such a solid motive for wanting Penelope dead. They would at least have to consider that Nigel was a suspect in Penelope’s death.

  That’s what Maddy had said, anyway.

  But as I watched her come out from down the long hallway that led to the chief’s office, I could tell that things hadn’t gone the way she had hoped.

  The chief – a burly man with a thick mustache – was walking down the hall with her and the body language said it all. He was walking fast, looking irritated and embarrassed. She was keeping up with him, talking incessantly.

  He finally stopped.

  “Look, Officer Fox,” he said. “I’ve had enough of this. You’re on suspension, and the fact that you’ve gone around asking questions like that without your badge is more than enough reason for me to fire you. I don’t know what kind of policing they taught you down in San Diego but that’s not the way we do things here. You are throwing baseless accusations at one of the city’s most respected and beloved citizens. Nigel Parks has donated thousands of dollars to this community, and you should be ashamed of what you’re saying considering you don’t have a single shred of evidence.”

  “All I’m saying is go talk to him. He told Ginger Westbrook and Eddie Cross that—”

  “A conversation between Mr. Parks and Vivian Westbrook’s niece doesn’t count as proof, Officer Fox,” he boomed back. “I suggest you think about what you just said.”

  Maddy’s face was turning red and, for a second, I thought she might lose control. But in the end, my best friend admirably kept her cool.

  “Sir, I understand what you’re saying. But believe me – these are not baseless accusations. And at the very least, you need to investigate this lead. Just to cover your bases. Because Vivian Westbrook did not commit this crime. On the other hand, Nigel Parks has one hell of a motive to kill Mayor Ashby. He—”

  “Enough!” the chief said, turning red himself. “That’s enough! Vivian Westbrook did have motive, and she did do it, and she’s going to face the consequences. Open and shut case, Officer Fox. Now get the hell out of here before I fire you right here on the spot!”

  Maddy swallowed hard.

  Eddie stood up, heading over to them.

  Chief Logan looked put-out when he caught sight of Eddie.

  “This is sloppy police work,” Eddie said in a steely voice. “And what’s more, it sounds like there might be a reason you don’t want to look into Nigel Parks. It sounds like you and the rest of your department’s been bought off.”

  The chief turned the color of raw squid.

  “Get the hell out of here, all of you!” he yelled.

  Maddy shook her head in anger and disappointment.

  “C’mon,” she said to Eddie. “This is a big waste of time.”

  Eddie wasn’t done, though. He looked ready for a fight.

  “We’re not finished here,” he said. “And another thing. When all of this is over, nobody will be calling you chief anymore. You’ll be lucky if you get a security guard post at the Broomfield Wharf Mall.”

  “Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots,” he hissed.

  Bud Madsen, who could be easily persuaded as I had found out a few days before, began laughing along.

  Maddy pulled at Eddie, and soon she was pulling at me as we headed toward the door.

  “Bastards,” she muttered. “All bastards.”

  It felt as if the whole town wanted nothing more than to watch Aunt Viv burn for a crime she didn’t commit.

  Chapter 50

  Through the window of the café, I watched Eddie pace back and forth in the parking lot, clasping the phone close to his ear with one hand, and gesturing with the other.

  He looked frustrated, like he was fighting a losing battle.

  The wind was blowing hard, and the afternoon sky had a cold glow to it. It felt like doom itself was rolling into our little town.

  “I just want to rip his head off!”

  Maddy was sitting at the kitchen island of the café, grasping the mug of relaxation tea in her hand so tightly that I was afraid it might break.

  “Can you believe that, Ging? It really makes you think about how many other cases Chief Logan has gotten wrong over the years. How is he still chief? I’ll tell you how. Because he’s a good old boy. And good old boys always get promotions. They always…”

  She continued ranting.

  Maddy was 100 percent right, but she was stewing in anger that wasn’t going to do anybody any good right now, including herself.

  I felt swallowed up by a bitter feeling of hopelessness.

  Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe Nigel and the police were in cahoots, that it hadn’t just been sloppy police work, like Maddy initially thought. Maybe it had been something more deliberate.

  But without the help of the local police, how could we possibly take on Nigel Parks with all his money, power, and influential friends? And how would we ever free Aunt Viv from a lifetime of orange jumpsuits and bad prison food?

  I dug my hands into the pockets of my jeans, holding back a frustrated sigh.

  My hand brushed against something, and a thought gripped me.

  I hadn’t exercised all my options just yet.

  There was one way we could still free Aunt Viv.

  And it didn’t have anything to do with pleading with the police or hiring lawyers or proving innocence.

  The ruby elixir.

  I could use it to create a spell so strong and powerful, the chief not only would let Aunt Viv out of jail, but would probably send her on all-expense paid Hawaiian cruise as an apology.

  And just like that, this ugly witch hunt business would be over.

  Aunt Viv would come home and we all could move on with our lives.

  But then Aunt Viv’s warning – the one she had repeated to me often – echoed in my ears.

  “No matter what happens, no matter how powerful the desire, and no matter how bad things might look, remember this:

  Never use the potion in the ruby bottle.”

  But the mysterious potion had to be good for something, right? Aunt Viv always said it was the most powerful one in her arsenal and that she kept it for extreme emergencies only.

  Wouldn’t this qualify as an extreme emergency?

  I suddenly realized that Maddy had stopped ranting.

  “What are you thinking there, Ging?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head.

  I didn’t tell her that I was thinking that if push came to shove, I’d do whatever it took to get Aunt Viv out of the clutches of the Broomfield Bay legal system.

  Anything.

  Because I’d had it.

  Enough was enough.

  The police we
ren’t playing on the up and up.

  And neither would I anymore.

  “Nigel is going to slip up some day, and he’s going to slip up big,” Maddy said. “And when that happens, we’re going to be there to see it. I won’t let Aunt Viv go down for this – I promise you. We’ll make this right. It might take some time, but…”

  As Maddy continued talking, I went over and flipped on the coffee maker.

  I turned my attention back out the window, watching as Eddie hung up his cell. He slid it into the pocket of his flannel shirt, pausing to look out at the storm rolling in. Then he started heading for the kitchen’s back door.

  “What’s Eddie been doing out there for so long?” Maddy asked.

  “Getting ready to leave,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  A second later Eddie came inside, letting in a rush of wind.

  A dark wind.

  He looked upset.

  “Ginger, I have to—”

  I nodded, gazing at him.

  “I know. It’s okay, I understand,” I said. “You have to go. You’ve got work to do.”

  He looked at me with guilty eyes.

  “They want me back in Portland tonight to cover a different story. An important one.”

  I bit my lower lip.

  “Your editor didn’t buy the Nigel Parks angle?”

  Eddie didn’t say anything right away, but I could tell by the look on his face that I had nailed it exactly.

  “I told her it needed to be written,” Eddie said. “That there were too many loose ends on this and that the cops botched the investigation. And that the woman they charged with murder is innocent.”

  “But she doesn’t want you to write it. Right?”

  “Not without more proof,” he said.

  With a heavy heart, I walked over to him.

  “Maddy’s already in hot water over all of this,” I said. “And I couldn’t stand knowing that you’d lose your job trying to help me, too. Don’t be foolish.”

  “It’s not foolish. The story’s right here, my editor just doesn’t see it, not yet. I’m going to come up with something. Nigel Parks isn’t getting away with this.”

  Eddie gazed at me for a long time.

  I felt more alone than I had ever felt before.

  I tried to put on a brave face. There wasn’t much I could do now, but I could make sure I didn’t ruin another career of Eddie’s.

  “Come back,” I whispered. “Come back when you can. I’ll still be here.”

  He looked away.

  “I won’t abandon you,” he said. “You, or Aunt Viv. You have my word on that.”

  I nodded.

  Then, before anyone could utter the word goodbye, he was out the door.

  I watched as he got in his car, turned the engine over, and peeled out of the lot.

  Chapter 51

  It was the shortest night of the year, but when it fell, it was as dark and suffocating as a rip tide.

  The wind battered the windows of Ginger’s Café, and the rain hammered the rooftop. The old boards of the building creaked in the storm.

  After Eddie had left, the storm rolled in at full-force. Maddy, despite being on suspension, had gotten a call from her supervisor. A large tree had been knocked down and was blocking Highway 101. The local police needed all hands on deck to help direct traffic, including Maddy’s.

  I’d told her not to go – that she didn’t owe them anything. But it wasn’t in my best friend’s nature to turn her back on those in need. Her sense of duty was too strong. Motorists out tonight would need her help, she said. And she couldn’t let them down.

  She’d left soon after receiving the call.

  Leaving me in the café alone.

  But I didn’t mind.

  I had things to do.

  Things that I needed to do alone.

  I halfheartedly performed a quick ritual, lighting a candle and saying a prayer of gratitude, officially calling the summer solstice celebration done. Normally, tonight was one of my favorites of the year. I missed going up to Eagle Ridge with Aunt Viv, having the bonfire, and eating s’mores.

  Would we ever get to do that again?

  I hoped so.

  In fact, I more than hoped.

  I would make it so.

  I got to work.

  ***

  I went out into the storm, running to the greenhouse, where I collected the herbs I would need from the garden. Materials for a hypnotic spell – sage, dandelion leaves, lavender, mandrake root, and hyssop.

  I came back inside the kitchen, placing the wet herbs and roots on the butcher block.

  In the short time that I was gone, Sherwood had moved positions, and was now leaning up against the oven. I sensed a kind of agitation coming from the old broom. Or maybe it was my own agitation I was sensing, mixed with apprehension about what I was about to do.

  I took in some air and pulled out the small bottle from my pocket.

  It was glowing.

  A crimson radiance that sent small shockwaves through my hands as I placed it next to the herbs.

  That way lies madness, Ginger Marie.

  Aunt Viv’s warning echoed in my head.

  But we were already in madness, I figured. How much worse could it get?

  “Woody, this has to be done,” I said. “There’s no other way. This witch hunt has got to stop. I won’t stand by and let Aunt Viv be locked away forever for a crime she didn’t commit.”

  He didn’t answer.

  I went over to the speaker system. I found the Best of Stevie Nicks on my iPod and blasted it in the kitchen. I turned one of the ovens on and began spreading out the herbs on a baking sheet.

  Creating a spell with this much power would take all night. The magic to influence an entire police force didn’t happen quickly. It happened when a witch put together the right ingredients and let it stew for hours while speaking incantations regarding the intent of the spell.

  It was no easy task and, under normal circumstances, I didn’t think it could be done.

  But the ruby elixir was my ace in the hole. The thing that would influence Chief Logan to release Aunt Viv from jail.

  I was in for a long, nervy night. And I prayed that my skill as a witch would be enough.

  It would have to be.

  Aunt Viv’s freedom depended on it.

  Outside the wind howled like a motherless child.

  Chapter 52

  The phone let out a high-pitched ring, and I nearly lost my grip on the ruby bottle.

  My insides were dancing like a crab on hot sand.

  I’d just been about to add the potion to the brew.

  I corked the bottle and put it down on the counter, then rushed over to my phone. I hoped it was Eddie calling, but my heart sank when I saw that the number was local.

  I paused Stevie’s “Landslide” and picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Ginger?”

  I recognized the voice but couldn’t place it.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Joyce Lewis. Sapphire’s mom.”

  What was she doing calling so late?

  I turned down the burner on the brew.

  “Hi, Joyce. Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yes. Sorry about the hour, but I just had to call. First off, I wanted to thank you so much for what you’ve done for my daughter. Have you noticed how happy Sapphire has been lately? It’s like she’s walking on air all the time. I never thought I would see that again.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, just as a large gust shook the windows. “But I needed to talk to you about that and the amount of tonic you’ve been giving Sapphire, only I’m in the middle of something right now. Can we talk tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” she said. “But before you go, I was actually calling for a different reason.”

  I looked at the clock.

  I was happy to talk to Joyce Lewis any other time, but I was at a crucial juncture in the spell. If
I didn’t get off the phone soon and add the ruby elixir, I’d miss my window of opportunity and would have to start all over again.

  “Joyce, I appreciate you calling, but I really can’t talk right—”

  “You know the list I asked Sapphire to give you?” she interrupted. “The one with all of the book club members on it?”

  I furrowed my brow.

  “Yes. And I’m sorry. I meant to thank you for sending that. It was very helpful.”

  “Well, I was calling because it just struck me now that I forgot to add a name to the list,” she said. “There was someone who only attended the first meeting. Some members said that they dropped out of the club, but I overheard Penelope bragging that she actually had disinvited this person after that first meeting.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up straight.

  “Disinvited?” I repeated.

  “Yes. Kicked out.”

  I felt lightheaded.

  “Who? Who was it?”

  “That’s the funny thing, Ginger. You wouldn’t expect it, but it was—”

  Lightning suddenly flashed through the café’s windows, followed by the loudest clap of thunder I had ever heard in my life.

  The phone slipped out of my hand as the sound of glass shattering filled the air.

  The kitchen fell into darkness.

  Chapter 53

  “Cauldrons and coltsfoot!” I rasped.

  I held the flame to the candle wick, the match trembling in my quivering hand. It caught, but only for a second before going out again.

  I inhaled deeply and tried to calm down. Then I fumbled for another match, sliding the box open, pulling out the small stick, flicking it against the rough strip. One time, two times, three…

  The flame caught, and I had more success steadying my hands to light the taper candle. A hazy light lit up the dark kitchen.

  My nerves were shot.

  A thunderbolt hitting that close could do that to a person. My ears were still ringing, and I was surprised to have any hearing left at all. The lightning must have struck only a few feet away from the café, and the force of it must have broken some windows out in the dining room.