I walked over to Carolyn’s table and slipped my arm into hers. I steered her away from her male admirers. “Why are you doing this? You’re messing up the filming schedule.”
Carolyn’s crimson-stained mouth formed into an innocent-looking O as she touched her fingers to her lips. “I’m not doing a thing. I can’t help it if those men are hungry.”
“They’re not hungry. They’re—never mind.” I glared at her. “You don’t fool me, Aunt Pearl. I know what you’re up to.”
“Stop calling me that—my name’s Carolyn. And I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” She plumped her platinum blonde hair with a manicured hand. Her nails sported the exact crimson red shade as her lipstick and dress. “Oh, I get it. You must have talked to Amber. Now I can’t even cook? She’s obviously jealous and worried that I’ll upstage her.”
“No, I haven’t even seen Aunt Amber yet, but I doubt she’s jealous of you. Now change back to your normal self before I do something drastic.”
“Oh, stop complaining, Cendrine. Let me have a little fun for once. At least you have a job that suits you.”
Mom re-emerged from the trailer, sensing trouble. She sidled up beside Carolyn, so that only I could see her expression. She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything.
I knew better than to fall for one of Aunt Pearl’s distraction techniques but I couldn’t help myself. “Why all of a sudden do you think my job suits me? You called my newspaper a dead-end job.”
“It is a dead-end just like your life.” Carolyn shrugged. “You have no ambition for anything greater. You won’t practice your witchcraft, you settled for that no-good sheriff as a boyfriend, and you’re just plain difficult. You should know this by now but I’ll say it again: you only reap what you sow.”
As if on cue, I spotted Sheriff Tyler Gates walking briskly towards us. As he got closer, I saw that my normally calm boyfriend was angry, his usual smile replaced by a frown. He wasn’t the only one worked up today.
I turned back to Aunt Pearl, my face flushed in anger. “Just because I don’t want to go to Pearl’s Charm School doesn’t make me a deadbeat. Your distractions aren’t going to work either. You know how important this movie is to the whole town. Can’t you just be yourself for once?”
“No, not like that—” Mom stopped in mid-sentence as flames shot up from the barbecue.
“Uh-oh,” Carolyn’s hand flew to her mouth, “Help!”
I pulled her away from the barbecue as flames shot up ten feet in the air. “Aunt Pearl!”
“I told you not to call me—”
I ignored her and steered her away. “You’re going to set the whole town on fire.”
Two of the men who were standing nearby tore their shirts off and raced over to the barbecue. Together they smothered the flames.
“Oh my!” Aunt Pearl swooned in her best Scarlett O’Hara imitation.
One of the men rushed to Carolyn’s side. “Are you all right, miss?” He placed a protective arm around her and guided her away from the barbecue.
“What about us?” Mom turned to me.
“I guess we’re invisible.” I studied the charred remains of the barbecue, wondering how many times this was going to happen today.
“Hardly.” Tyler put his arm around me. He knew our family secret, which made being a witch a little easier. “I think you’d better find Pearl a new job though. Something without access to accelerants.”
Mom shook her head. “I don’t know what to do, Tyler. She refuses to do the job Amber got for her, and she can’t work with me if she’s going to mess with the food. The way she lit up that barbecue…”
“Leave it with me. I’ll figure something out,” I said. “And I’ll keep an eye on her too.”
“Good,” Tyler said. “Because Brayden’s watching me like a hawk. And he’s promised to have my head if anything goes wrong.” Brayden Banks was our town mayor and my former fiancé. He resented the fact that Tyler and I were dating and constantly looked for any excuse to fire Tyler.
“He just wants to stir up trouble.” I felt sorry for Tyler. He couldn’t win no matter what. If there was any trouble during the movie shoot, Brayden would find a way to blame Tyler. If it was a success, Brayden would take all the credit.
I turned my attention back to Aunt Pearl and her employment status. I had to keep her occupied, but how? A master witch like Aunt Pearl could do a lot of damage, and her antics could prevent more movies from coming to Westwick Corners in the future. That wasn’t good for any of us.
All things considered, Aunt Amber’s idea of a job on set was probably our best bet, important because of Aunt Pearl’s short fuse. I could supervise her and watch the filming at the same time. The props job also had limited interaction with other people. I just had to convince Aunt Pearl that the job was just as important as Aunt Amber’s acting role.
“I’ll talk to Aunt Amber,” I said. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
We could fight fire with fire after all.
3
I couldn’t help feeling a bit smug as I watched Aunt Pearl trudge slowly down the street towards home. After casting a forgetfulness spell to erase her short-term memory, I sent her on a fake errand to Pearl’s Charm School. That would give me a little time to track down Aunt Amber to get Aunt Pearl’s prop assistant job back.
Only this time, I would plant a false memory that it had been Aunt Pearl’s idea in the first place. I felt a bit guilty until I remembered that Aunt Pearl did stuff like this to me all the time. So much for her poor opinion of my witchcraft skills. While I considered myself a reluctant witch, I had been secretly practicing my craft over the last few months. It was finally starting to pay off.
The forgetfulness spell was tricky because any other people involved had to be bewitched too. My aunt’s male admirers now remembered arriving at the food truck only to find it closed with no one around. It was a tough intermediate spell, one I had only practiced a couple of times. I hadn’t executed it perfectly, but I had come pretty close.
I had just outwitted a master witch with a spell of my very own. Needless to say, I was mighty proud of myself.
My spell had erased the last ten minutes of her life. The tables of food, the men…all gone. Even Carolyn was gone. Aunt Pearl had also spontaneously changed back into her crotchety old self. The only remaining evidence of Carolyn’s burger carnage was the charred barbecue, something Mom could easily fix in a jiffy. Aunt Pearl would be proud of me—and furious to be the subject of my spell.
Aunt Pearl acted like a two-year-old in a seventy-year-old body sometimes. Her Carolyn alter ego was really just her way of acting out. We had worried that she might either attract too much guest attention—as Carolyn—or repel them, as her ornery self.
I guess I should have anticipated her boredom since Mom and I had temporarily taken over her housekeeping job at the Inn and left her with too much time on her hands. Too much time to get into trouble. And too much time to mull over Aunt Amber’s movie role. No wonder she was upset. I felt partly to blame.
I decided to grab a coffee from the food truck before heading to the film set. I had just turned around when I felt a swoosh of air at my back.
“Cendrine!” Aunt Amber suddenly materialized in front of me, blocking my path to a much-needed caffeine fix. Her red hair was pulled back to show off an expensive-looking pair of diamond drop earrings and a matching necklace. Even in her silk dressing gown, she had all the glamor of a 1950’s movie star.
Except that the movie was a 1900s-era Western. Her diamonds and high heels seemed totally inappropriate for the dusty street. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your scene?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I urgently need your help. I can’t find my assistant.”
“That’s too bad.” I decided to forgo the coffee and headed towards the set. I stepped over electrical cables as I scanned the street, half-expecting a horse-drawn Cinderella carriage to come to Aunt Amber’s rescue.
Luckily nothing like that happened, but a few of the men from Carolyn’s damsel in distress barbecue drama were milling around nearby. They didn’t seem to notice us.
“Maybe Aunt Pearl could help you. She should be back any minute.”
Aunt Amber snorted. “You can’t be serious. She’s got the attention span of a gnat. I need someone detail-oriented. Someone I can trust to do a good job.”
I looked around. “I’ll keep an eye out for your assistant.”
“Someone like you.” Aunt Amber shoved an armful of dresses into my arms, almost knocking me over. “Take these things to my trailer. I’ll need them pressed and ready in an hour.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Amber. I don’t have time.” I tried to push the dresses back but she just pushed back harder. I teetered for a moment before I recovered my balance. I leaned into her with all my weight but she didn’t budge.
“Make time, Cendrine. This is important.”
“I’m sure your assistant will turn up sooner or later.” At least Aunt Amber hadn’t flaunted her witchy powers to get her dresses pressed. I turned back towards the food truck, but she blocked my path.
“I don’t have time for this. Just take them already.” She nodded in the general direction of the trailers.
I raised my arms in protest but she simply pushed my arms back down. The full-length dresses were made of thick wool and were unbelievably heavy. I staggered backward from the weight.
“I promised Mom I’d help her with the after breakfast cleanup.” I felt guilty lying but I didn’t have the time or inclination to be Aunt Amber’s wardrobe assistant. She never took no for an answer. The minute I said yes, she would assign me dozens of equally unpleasant tasks. I had to stand my ground.
“For crying out loud, Cen. We’re witches. Just cast a spell.”
“You could do the same,” I pointed out. The dress on top was flouncy with several layers of petticoat. Aside from being unbelievably heavy, I could barely see in front of me. Every time I pushed down on the dress to see, it just poofed right back up again. I braced myself and shifted the dresses onto one shoulder so that I could at least see where I was going.
I scanned the street for someone to hand off Aunt Amber’s clothing to, but everyone just ignored me as they scurried around like ants on speed. I was still troubled by how a sixty-something witch with no acting experience had landed a leading role in a major Hollywood movie. Something was fishy, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
“Just do it, okay? I’ve got to get ready for my robbery scene.” She glared at me and adjusted the belt on her dressing gown.
“You can’t go like that,” I said. “You have to go to your trailer to change anyway, so why not take the dresses? Besides, I don’t even know where your trailer is.”
Too late. Aunt Amber ran behind a building and whispered in a low tone. Seconds later she emerged from her hiding place, clad in a 1900s-era long blue dress with a high lace collar. Her diamond jewelry was gone, but now she donned an elaborate white and blue hat and carried a matching parasol. She immediately disappeared through the doors of the old bank building without another word.
My arms ached, but I couldn’t exactly leave the dresses lying around. They looked expensive and I didn’t want them to get damaged. Maybe I could hand them off to someone on set. They would have somewhere to keep them safe. Aunt Amber’s assistant would turn up sooner or later.
I needed my hands free so I could get a story, or maybe even a dozen stories before this movie shoot was over. I worried that once Aunt Amber’s spell was broken, everything would end just as suddenly as it had begun. The movie execs had obviously been bewitched to even consider filming in our has-been town. The movie stars and the film crew would leave and we would return to barely eking out a living and passing time. I had to interview the stars before they realized their mistake and packed up and left.
I especially wanted to scoop an interview with the leading man. A stockpile of movie shoot stories might just keep The Westwick Corners Weekly afloat. All I needed was a few good stories to turn things around.
But to do that I had to get cracking, and that meant unloading the dresses. My spirits lifted as I neared the trailers on the opposite end of the set. Aunt Amber’s trailer must be nearby.
“Need a hand?” A thirtyish man smiled at me and motioned for the dresses.
I gladly accepted and placed them in his arms. “Thanks. I’m supposed to take them to Amber West’s trailer.”
“Amber West?” The man frowned. “Don’t recognize that name.”
“Tall, slim, redhead about sixty years old?” The witch that organized this crazy film shoot.
He frowned, a puzzled expression on his face.
The co-star, I wanted to say, but stopped myself. Maybe she had lied or exaggerated. Who knew what was real and what wasn’t?
“Amber West…oh yeah, right. Now I remember.” He nodded towards another group of trailers parked further down Main Street in the vacant lot. “Her trailer’s this way. C’mon, I’ll show you.”
I followed behind him, puzzled by his lack of familiarity with Aunt Amber, given she was a co-star and all. On the other hand, the whole movie shoot was a last-minute thing according to Mom. Aunt Amber had only been cast in her role yesterday after the original leading lady pulled out.
I followed him up the steps of a trailer decidedly smaller and older than the ones beside it. Aunt Amber’s name was printed in block letters on a small white cardboard sign fastened to the door. It certainly didn’t give the impression of a star, and there was no sign of an assistant. The trailer was empty.
“Here we are.” The man dropped the clothes onto the foldout kitchen table and held out his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Rick Mazure. The screenwriter.”
I shook his hand. “Wow, you wrote High Noon Heist? And Midnight Heist too?”
He nodded.
“I’m Cendrine West. I’m a reporter for The Westwick Corners Weekly.” I omitted the fact that I was also the publisher, advertising manager, editor and chief coffee maker. “Thanks for going out of your way. I didn’t know it would be a two-block walk.”
“It’s no trouble at all. I’m sure you’ll find lots of juicy stories here, both on and off the set,” Rick said. “I’d help you get started but I’ve got to run. I’ve got a deadline for some last-minute script rewrites, and some people around here get a little testy when things aren’t finished yesterday.”
I smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.” I had no plans to wait for Aunt Amber so I followed him outside and watched him walk briskly back towards the set. I wanted to avoid small talk, and I was sure he did too. I waited until he was a half-block ahead and then headed in the same direction.
My office was near City Hall and the food truck, so the fastest way there was to cut back through the set. If I was lucky, I might run into one of the stars and wrangle an interview.
Westwick Corners had been transformed into an early 1900’s Wild West town, or at least Hollywood’s version of it. The set crew had multiplied in the last hour to the point that now it was bustling with old cars, horses, and period costumes. While I loved the freshly painted buildings, I kind of missed the town’s former shabby splendor. It was like a favorite pair of jeans, worn and frayed in all the right places. Suddenly Westwick Corners seemed like a strange, sterile version of its former self.
The small supermarket parking lot across from the bank was filled with props, sets, and crew, who busily laid cables, erected lighting, and positioned props. A dozen or so men and women in period costumes were interspersed with the crew. The men all wore hats and the women wore long dresses, cinched alarmingly small at the waist.
I spotted Aunt Amber at the same time she saw me. She had somehow changed outfits again, this time into one of the period dresses I had just dropped off at her trailer. Witchcraft, of course. For someone so high up in WICCA, she certainly was flaunting the rules. I wondered how many she had broken to get this role.
“Cendrine! Help me with my lines.” She ran towards me, holding her petticoats up from the dusty street.
“I told you, I’m late to help Mom.” I lowered my voice. “You’re a witch. You can memorize your lines in a snap.” I snapped my fingers for emphasis.
“Great actors don’t memorize lines. They become the character.” She sniffed. “Every gesture, nuance, and inflection is critical. I need you to critique me. I’m the leading lady, so I have to get it right.”
“I’m no acting expert, Aunt Amber. Maybe one of the other actors can help. Besides, I really need to go.” I wanted to add that she shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to practice her lines, but I didn’t want her getting mad at me.
Aunt Amber sighed. “Okay, fine. But at least come and meet Steven with me.” She plumped her hair with a hand. “He was so glad I convinced him to film here. Especially because the leading lady died suddenly, and he was in a pickle. He wants me to take her place.”
“Wait—she died? I thought she quit.” I had no idea that Aunt Amber had gotten the role because someone had died. Aunt Amber as the leading lady’s replacement would already interest the locals since she had been born in Westwick Corners. Her predecessor’s death made it all the more intriguing.
Aunt Amber waved her hand in dismissal. “Long story, doesn’t matter right now. The important thing is that Steven says I have raw talent. He’s going to make me a star!”
I glanced around at everyone scurrying about the set. I didn’t see Steven Scarabelli, or anyone overseeing the activities for that matter. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do, like they had done it a hundred times before. “Westwick Corners seems so low budget for him.”
I wasn’t a huge movie buff, but even I knew that Steven Scarabelli was a big deal. His films weren’t quite as popular as they had been a few decades earlier, but they still won Oscars and Golden Globes. He was a Hollywood bigshot by anyone’s standards, and actors seemed to love working with him.
Witch and Famous--A Westwick Witches Cozy Mystery Page 3