Aunt Pearl ignored me as she slapped another half dozen burgers onto the grill. She turned up the gas.
Aunt Amber had promised to keep her oldest sister occupied 24/7. Yet Aunt Pearl was here in the thick of things just waiting to stir up trouble. She was a ninety-pound tornado just looking for a place to land. Tourists, movie people—they were all the enemy in her mind. Her presence at Mom’s food truck was no coincidence. I just hoped she wouldn’t go so far as to poison people.
“Amber got Pearl a great job working with props, but Pearl refuses to take it.” Mom tucked a stray blonde hair under her bright fuchsia and turquoise bandana. “Says it’s beneath her.”
“You got it wrong, Ruby. I never refused.” Aunt Pearl waved her barbecue fork in the air, almost spearing a tree branch. “The job was misrepresented to me. I was supposed to be the head of pyrotechnics, not some lackey guarding a toy box. No wonder Amber’s avoiding me. She’s going to pay for this.”
“You can’t be the head of pyrotechnics. You don’t have any movie experience.” I sighed. My aunts’ sibling rivalry knew no bounds. “I’m sure Aunt Amber was just trying to help.”
Aunt Pearl snorted as she sprinkled liquid from her hip flask onto the barbecue. Flames shot up from the grill a split-second later. She gazed lovingly at the flames as they rose higher and higher from the grill. She seemed to be in a trance.
“Watch out!” The hair on the back of my neck rose. My five-foot-nothing firebug aunt had a hate-on for authority figures, both formal and informal. She was also a recovering pyromaniac, so the idea of her having anything to do with fire freaked me out.
The flames lessened as the fuel burned off, and Aunt Pearl came out of her trance. “You said something?” She smiled sweetly at us.
“Props is a great opportunity, Pearl. You’ve got to start somewhere.” Mom turned the barbecue flame down. “You can add that experience to your résumé.”
“Amber doesn’t have experience.” Aunt Pearl snorted. “How come she gets a leading role?”
I wondered that too. Instead, I said, “You’re just jealous.”
“Am not.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you always have to compete with each other?” Mom’s two older sisters were now in their sixties and seventies, with Aunt Pearl the oldest. Their intense sibling rivalry hadn’t diminished at all. In fact, it had grown stronger with each passing year. They couldn’t be in the same room for five minutes before they tried to one-up each other. Mom always broke up their spats and played mediator even though she was the youngest.
“I wish you and Amber would stop being so competitive,” Mom said. “You’re both good at different things, that’s all. You complement each other.”
I snorted involuntarily and they both glared at me.
“I have life experience, Ruby. I’m also a witch and a darn good one too. I’m not about to work for some incompetent has-been who doesn’t know what the heck he’s doing.”
“You mean the props manager? Of course he knows what he’s doing. He’s got years of experience like everyone else here. They’re all professionals.” Mom tilted her head in the direction of the set.
“I can whip up some mean special effects. His are a joke.” Aunt Pearl waved her hand and the barbecue flames shot up again.
Mom shot them down with a wave of her hand. “Just keep a lid on your tricks for a couple of days, okay? None of the movie people know we’re witches and we have to keep it that way.”
“But Bill doesn’t know what he’s doing. At this rate, they’ll be filming forever.” She scowled. “I just wanted to lend a helping hand so they can wrap things up quickly. But whatever I suggest gets shot down.”
“Don’t try any funny stuff, Aunt Pearl.” I had no idea who Bill was or why she called him incompetent, but I figured anyone working on a movie this big had to be good at his job. More likely, excellent at it. Movie making was an industry everyone wanted to be in, and competition for jobs was fierce.
“Cen’s right. You can’t blow our cover,” Mom said. “Just do good work and earn their respect. At least Amber got you a job.”
Aunt Pearl shook her head. “No can do. I won’t compromise on quality. I have standards, you know.”
I had no idea what quality standards she was talking about. Maybe another job was just too stressful for her. Westwick Corners was so small that most locals had a few jobs. We all had to be entrepreneurs because the local economy was nonexistent.
The West family was no different since we all pitched in to run the Westwick Corners Inn and our bar, The Witching Post, in addition to other jobs. We always needed extra money to make ends meet. That was probably why Aunt Amber had gotten us all involved in the movie in the first place.
Everyone except me, that is. I felt a little slighted that Aunt Amber hadn’t gotten me a job too, but in another sense I was relieved. Most West family ventures tended to go haywire. I could just watch from a distance.
But still.
Why not me? Was it because I didn’t practice my witchcraft enough? True, I was a Pearl’s Charm School dropout, but punishing me for being a slacker witch seemed extreme. Maybe Aunt Amber didn’t think I was good enough, but trusting Aunt Pearl for a job ahead of me was both surprising and disturbing. Maybe it was Aunt Amber’s way of giving me a wake-up call, but her tough love approach hurt.
I watched as Aunt Pearl flipped charcoal-black burgers off the grill and onto a plate. She promptly dropped another half dozen burgers on the grill.
“Maybe you shouldn’t work on the movie after all. What will your students do?” Pearl’s Charm School, Aunt Pearl’s witchcraft school, had zero students and was foundering, despite Aunt Pearl’s claims to the contrary. In fact, all of our businesses were in serious trouble, including The Westwick Corners Weekly. The movie shoot was the biggest thing to come to town in decades, and we all wanted—no, needed—to be a part of it.
“I need a break from teaching. You know how I get bored,” Aunt Pearl snapped. “Those students really test my patience sometimes too.”
“How is this any better?” I studied my gray-haired aunt. “You’re flipping burgers on a barbecue. And you’re miserable about it.”
“It’s not better at all, Cendrine. That’s kind of the point,” Aunt Pearl sniffed. “The special effects role was supposed to provide me with an outlet for my creative juices. Amber promised me full creative control. She said that if I helped her land the movie, she’d make it worth my while. Then she belittled me by getting me a job way below my talents and capabilities.”
I was tempted to ask how exactly she had helped Aunt Amber arrange for the movie to be filmed in Westwick Corners, but our discussion was already getting sidetracked.
“You can’t use witchcraft. Or fire.” I had a sinking feeling that whatever help Aunt Pearl had given came with strings attached. Some things were better not knowing.
“You know I wouldn’t do that, Cendrine.” Aunt Pearl’s lower lip stuck out in a fake pout and her eye twitched the way it always did when she was lying. “I always follow the rules.”
I bit my tongue, not wanting to start an argument. Aunt Pearl had probably steamrolled Aunt Amber into the props job by threatening something worse. Her disappointment only meant that we could expect more revenge of some kind. What the retaliation would be wasn’t exactly clear, but we all dreaded Aunt Pearl’s bouts of “creativity”. There was a fine line between giving in to her demands and keeping her out of trouble. No wonder Aunt Amber had gotten her the props assistant role.
That was also why Mom had her manning the barbecue. If Aunt Pearl was going to play with fire, at least it would be supervised.
2
Mom and I reluctantly left Aunt Pearl at the catering truck while we tended to breakfast at the Inn. It was rare to have our boutique bed and breakfast fully booked like it was today. Most of the cast and crew had opted for more modern accommodations an hour away in Shady Creek, but some had decided to stay in town. Our guests included a few V
IPs and we wanted to pull out all the stops to make a great impression. We hoped to encourage return visits and maybe even garner some free publicity.
I grated cheese for omelets while Mom chopped vegetables. We were just settling into a rhythm when a shrill voice interrupted us.
“How could you leave me alone here to fend for myself?” Grandma Vi’s ghostly form flitted back and forth across the kitchen. “I don’t like all these intruders. What are they doing here?”
“They’re filming a movie, Grandma. It’s only temporary.” I was surprised that Aunt Amber hadn’t told her in advance about the movie, but then again, Aunt Amber hadn’t given any of us much notice.
“I don’t have a few days. I want you to get rid of all these people.” Her apparition wavered the way it did when she got really upset. Grandma never forgave Mom for turning our family home into a boutique bed and breakfast, and this was just the icing on the cake.
“You’re a ghost, Grandma. You’ve got all the time in the world.” Grandma stayed with me in the treehouse now. While a ghostly roommate seemed like an ideal situation, Grandma Vi was really hard to live with. She constantly competed for my attention when I had guests over and complained of loneliness when it was just the two of us.
“Don’t keep reminding me. At least put the house back the way it was.”
She meant the Inn, which was unchanged except for the presence of guests. “We have to earn a living somehow, Grandma. They’ll be gone soon.” I felt bad but our cash needs outweighed her feelings for the moment. Either we rented out the rooms or we moved to another town with job opportunities.
“Soon is a couple of days too long for me. I’m trying to be patient but they’ve already overstayed their welcome. I’ve had enough of this. Time to make a spectacle of myself.” She headed towards the door that led out into the dining room.
I raced to the door and blocked it with my body. “Specter, Grandma. You’re a specter, not a spectacle. Please don’t go in there. I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise.” I glanced over at Mom, but her back was turned as she cooked breakfast on the grill.
“You know I can pass right through you, Cen.” She floated six inches from my face. “Don’t make me do it.”
“Okay, fine. Why don’t we make some tinctures later on?” Bribery was the only weapon I had. Grandma could wreak havoc if she didn’t get her way. “We haven’t done that in a while.”
Grandma’s aura immediately brightened to a happy sunny yellow. “I would love that. We’ll make love potions and bewitch all these movie people.” She giggled like a teenager. “Think of the trouble we’ll start!”
“That sounds like fun!” My voice came out a little higher pitched than normal, so I hoped I sounded convincing. I had no intention of using magic on the movie people without their knowledge, but Grandma Vi didn’t have to know that. “Maybe we can do it tomorrow, once things settle down a bit.”
She shook her head slowly. “No. You’ll have to think of something better than that. What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Why don’t you pick out some shows and movies to watch? We can binge-watch all the old Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie episodes tonight. Just to get inspired.” I reached out to pat her arm, but naturally my hand went right through her.
“That’s all you’ve got to offer? That’s hardly worth my while,” Grandma Vi said. “Besides, I’m not really in the mood for comedy. In fact, I wouldn’t mind blowing off some steam and scaring some people right now. Maybe I’ll create my own drama.”
“Please don’t, Grandma.” I held up my hand in protest. It was obvious where Aunt Pearl got her ornery attitude from, but it was also clear that Grandma Vi had been pushed too far. I lowered my voice to a whisper so that Mom couldn’t hear. “Maybe we could do a spell on Amber and Pearl. You know, so they get along better.”
“Hmmm.” She floated up towards the ceiling, deep in thought. A couple of seconds later she popped up two inches in front of me. “That’s a very good idea, Cen. You’ll learn something new, and my daughters can get along for once.”
“Deal,” I said. “I’ll get some herbs from the garden and see you back at the treehouse later tonight.” Making tinctures was the only part of witchcraft I was really comfortable with, though I doubted there was a potion strong enough to take the edges off my aunts’ strong personalities. It seemed to satisfy Grandma Vi, at least for the moment.
“Ta ta.” Grandma Vi’s image faded into nothing.
I turned my thoughts back to Aunt Pearl. Leaving her unsupervised around the movie people was risky, but we didn’t have much choice. At least it was still early morning, a time when she was usually in a more civil mood and less likely to act up. The barbecue had satisfied her inner fire bug for the time being.
We needed two people at the Inn, one to cook and one to serve breakfast. As the server, I had an ulterior motive, which was to arrange interviews with some of our more famous guests. Then maybe, just maybe, one of my articles would catch on with readers and I could really make a go of it. I had several articles already planned on the movie shoot and write-ups on the movie stars. All I needed was to actually meet some of them while I served breakfast.
What I wanted more than anything was to meet Steven Scarabelli, the legendary producer who was staying at our inn. But that wasn’t to be, at least not yet. It turned out that I missed him by mere minutes as he had skipped breakfast and departed for the set while we were cooking.
Fortunately, it didn’t take Mom and me long to attend to the guests and we were soon headed back to the food truck. Main Street bustled with activity and even more buildings had been painted while we were away. The street’s fresh new facades contrasted sharply with the side streets. There the neglected buildings remained boarded, paint peeling from their wooden facades.
I felt a surge of hope, satisfied that the movie had already breathed new life into Westwick Corners even though filming hadn’t started yet. Our town’s population had dwindled from thousands to just a few hundred over the last decade, and the lack of jobs drove young people away as soon as they finished school. Some went to nearby Shady Creek, and others went even further afield to Seattle. But the movie could reverse that tide. Now our luck was about to change for the better.
If the movie people liked our town, they would return. We could brand ourselves as a Hollywood North of sorts. The movie was a huge economic boost, a golden opportunity that had dropped in our laps. One movie could lead to another, and bring with it jobs and cash. Witches could do a lot of things, but we couldn’t conjure up money. Success was ours as long as we didn’t squander it.
I was jarred from my thoughts as we neared the food truck. A flash of red caught my eye. It was so bright that it reflected off the white truck and I had to shield my eyes. As I got closer I saw the source. A platinum blonde bombshell in a red sequined evening gown posed in front of the food truck.
At first, I thought it was one of the actresses, but as we drew closer I saw that wasn’t the case. A sick feeling formed in the pit of my stomach.
Mom saw it too. ”Oh no! I told Pearl that Carolyn was not welcome here. Why does she always have to ruin things?”
I didn’t have an answer. Carolyn Conroe was Aunt Pearl’s alter ego, a thirtyish Marilyn Monroe lookalike creation that Aunt Pearl shape-shifted into whenever she craved attention. Especially male attention.
Aunt Pearl claimed that she hated men, but simultaneously seemed to be living out some weird fantasy vicariously through Carolyn Conroe. I was embarrassed to watch, though everyone else seemed oblivious to her shenanigans.
Her skintight sequined dress strained at her curves as she balanced a plateful of burgers stacked a foot high. She beckoned like a siren song to the steady stream of male admirers who walked almost zombie-like towards the food truck. I counted at least two dozen, none of them locals so I assumed they were part of the film crew. I doubted there was much work being done at the moment.
Carolyn had brought the
film set to a standstill, baited with beef and blonde hair. If we were to impress the Hollywood bigwigs, we had to avoid disruptions like this. Our future depended upon the movie going off without a hitch.
As we got closer I got a good look at Carolyn’s admirers. A few of them were practically drooling as they stared at her, trance-like. “At least we know what she’s up to.”
“True,” Mom said. “And this way we can keep her away from Amber. Their competitiveness could get out of hand and ruin everything.”
I nodded. A supernatural beauty contest was the last thing we needed, with each sister trying to outdo the other. Mostly it was Aunt Pearl who instigated things. She resented the fact that her younger sister was better-looking and had a much more successful career.
I was surprised that Aunt Pearl would dare to pull her Carolyn Conroe act with Aunt Amber nearby. Technically her shape shifting was a violation of WICCA rules. There were very few instances where a witch was allowed to impersonate someone, real or imagined. While Aunt Pearl constantly broke rules, she was already two strikes out of three from an incident earlier in the year. As a WICCA VP, Aunt Amber was a stickler for rules. The last thing we needed was a showdown.
“I’m going to find Aunt Amber. I need to talk to her.” I scanned the street and was relieved to see no sign of her. At least I could track her down before she saw Carolyn.
Carolyn sat on one the tables in the eating area, posed suggestively with a generous glimpse of skin peeking out from the thigh-high slit of her evening gown.
I couldn’t leave Mom alone with her like this.
The number of tables had doubled while we were away, obviously more of Aunt Pearl’s magical antics meant to lure men. They were laden with burgers, sandwiches, salads, and cold drinks. A few of the men helped themselves to snacks, but most just stood in awe of Carolyn, blissfully unaware that they had been duped. That was quite a feat when you thought about it, since the film crew saw gorgeous Hollywood actresses on set all the time.
Witch and Famous--A Westwick Witches Cozy Mystery Page 2