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A Witchy Valentine (Harper Grant Mystery Series Book 4)

Page 19

by D. S. Butler


  Jess looked doubtful. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Maybe you should just tell Chief Wickham your theory.” She passed me a slice of cake.

  That was probably the safest option. Going back to Monty’s house would put a target on our backs and infuriate Chief Wickham and Joe if they found out.

  “The trouble is, I don’t think they’ll listen to me unless I have evidence.”

  “She’s right,” Grandma Grant said after swallowing a large piece of cake. “We need to find the contract.”

  I took a bite of red velvet cake, trying to ignore Monty’s wistful expression as I chewed. Grandma Grant was right. We needed the evidence, so we had to go back to Monty’s house.

  Finally, I nodded. “Okay, Monty and I will go back tonight and try to locate the contract.”

  I hoped the key was where we left it under the flowerpot, but if the police had moved it, Monty could always float through the door and open it from the inside.

  “I’m coming, too, this time,” Jess said.

  I started to shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

  Jess put her hand up. “No arguments. I’m coming this time. Don’t forget Pete is still in the frame for this murder, and I want to solve it as much as you do.”

  Jess was stubborn, and from the look on her face, I knew she wasn’t going to back down. And to be honest, I could do with the moral support.

  Grandma Grant pushed her empty cake plate away. “And you better not think you’re leaving me behind,” she said with an extremely determined look on her face.

  I sighed. I had a bad feeling about this.

  Chapter 29

  At midnight, Jess, Grandma Grant and I were all dressed in black. Grandma Grant was even wearing her odd, black hat again. I knew better than to try and convince her to take it off.

  Grandma Grant wanted us to use her truck, but Jess protested. She thought it was better to take her car. They had argued for five minutes before Grandma Grant played her ace card. She said the truck was better for making a quick getaway if we needed to travel over a field or a muddy track.

  She patted the front of the truck and said, “You can rely on this old girl. Your fancy little town car won’t do us much good if we need to improvise.”

  Jess looked horrified, and she turned to me. “Harper, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for Grandma Grant to come with us.”

  Grandma Grant looked scandalized. “You’re not leaving me out, young lady.” She wagged a finger at Jess. “I’ve been in on this since the beginning.”

  I wasn’t sure that was a positive point, considering the fact Grandma Grant got her foot stuck in a bucket last time we went to Monty’s house, and we’d nearly been caught by Officer Tardy. Of course, I wasn’t perfect either. After all, I had left my scarf behind, and that’s how Joe had found out what we’d been up to.

  Once we’d stopped bickering, Grandma Grant hopped into the driver’s seat, leaned forward and started the engine. We all piled in the front of the truck, and she drove down the hill, peering over the wheel in a way that made me nervous.

  Remembering she’d recently told me she didn’t like driving in the dark, I asked, “Do you want me to drive? You could pull over to the side of the road, and we could swap.”

  Grandma Grant lifted her hand from the wheel and waved it at me. “No, I don’t. Now, stop distracting me.”

  Monty, who had been hovering silently in front of us, pulled a most peculiar face as Grandma Grant’s hand wafted through him.

  Then Jess leaned forward to adjust her seatbelt, and as she did so, her head floated through Monty’s chest.

  “Oh, that feels really weird,” Monty spluttered.

  I put a hand on Jess’s shoulder and gave her a little pat. “Can you sit back? Your head is going through Monty’s chest.”

  Jess’s eyes widened and then she made a huffing sound. “Well, he could always sit in the back. It’s not as though he would feel the cold.”

  “Hey!” Monty said, looking hurt. “Ghosts are people, too.”

  I didn’t want to get into a debate about ghosts’ civil rights and feelings, so I looked out the window.

  The bare branches of dark trees swayed as we drove past. We didn’t pass another vehicle on the road to Cherrytown.

  As before, Grandma Grant parked a block away from Monty’s place, and we walked the short distance to his house.

  Jess and Grandma Grant argued the whole way there. We weren’t going to win any awards for subtlety that was for sure. My plan for going incognito for the evening evaporated.

  We scooted round the back, intending to go in through the back gate and then the back door like last time.

  We reached Monty’s back gate, and as I leaned down to undo the bolt. Jess vaulted upwards, clinging to the fence. She didn’t quite make it to the top, and her feet scrabbled against the wood.

  Grandma Grant watched her in amazement. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to get over the fence,” Jess hissed back, slightly out of breath.

  I smirked. It was nice to see Jess wasn’t so perfect, after all. My sister was far more active than me. She was always going off to yoga classes and jogging and other crazy things like that. Whereas, I preferred to sit on the couch and read a good book.

  “Jess, I thought we’d just go in through the gate,” I said smiling sweetly up at her.

  Jess froze and then slowly lowered herself down from the fence. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  “You didn’t give us a chance,” Grandma Grant said, pushing in front of everyone and striding along the garden path toward Monty’s back door.

  Monty gave me a sympathetic look. “Sometimes, I’m glad they can’t hear me, Harper. Your family is a little odd.”

  They were. But then, so was I. So, I fit in pretty well.

  As we approached the back door, I glanced upwards and looked at the window where I’d seen a flashing light last time we were here. Tonight, everything was dark.

  Grandma Grant moved the heavy plant pot and extracted the key, and we all waited in silence for her to open the door. When she pushed open the door, I grabbed her shoulder. “Wait.”

  “What is it?” Jess asked.

  “The first time we entered Monty’s property, we used this key. The back door was locked, but the intruder was already inside.”

  Grandma Grant nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

  “So how did the intruder get inside?” I asked turning to Monty.

  He shook his head. “I’ve no idea.”

  That was something to consider later. I gestured for Grandma Grant to go in.

  Once inside the house, we moved quickly.

  “If you use your flashlights,” I said, “keep them pointing down. We don’t want to attract any attention from the neighbors.”

  “Roger that. Should we synchronize our watches?” Grandma Grant asked, clearly relishing the task ahead of us.

  I blinked in amazement and then shook my head and shrugged. If she wanted to pretend she was some sort of spy or government agent, she could. It didn’t really matter. She wasn’t hurting anyone.

  We made our way upstairs, hoping that the information we needed would be in Monty’s desk.

  I’d started to doubt myself now, though. I wondered whether the intruder had already grabbed the contract and hidden it in a pocket before running off. Or maybe they’d come back a second time to retrieve the contract. If that was the case, we were wasting our time.

  Monty floated up the stairs behind us.

  “It’s creepy in the dark,” he said.

  “Monty, this is your house,” I said. “And nothing can hurt you now that you’re a ghost.”

  “I guess, but I would feel better if we could turn some lights on.”

  “Well, we can’t. If we switch a light on, I bet Officer Tardy would be here within minutes.”

  I couldn’t stop wondering how the intruder had gotten inside Monty’s house. “Monty did anyone else
have a spare key to your house? One of your neighbors, perhaps?”

  “No.”

  “Did you get the locks changed after you purchased the house?”

  Monty frowned. “No, I didn’t think I needed to. Cherrytown always seemed so safe.”

  I stepped inside a large, sparsely furnished room. In one corner, there was a large mahogany desk with a smartly upholstered chair next to an antique bookcase.

  “Who owned the house before you?”

  “A company…” He trailed off and looked at me, his eyes wide.

  “What is it?”

  “The company was owned by Lucille, John Gastineau’s wife. It was one of her many side projects.”

  I nodded. The pieces of the puzzle were coming together. “John would have had access to the key.”

  “I suppose so.”

  There were stairs in the opposite corner of the room, which led up to the attic.

  “What’s up there?” I asked Monty.

  “More of my battle outfits and costumes. I’ve built quite a collection now.”

  I nodded. I thought we could take a look at them if we had time. If my idea of finding the contract Laura had given to Monty to look over didn’t pan out, maybe we could get some clues from Monty’s collection. If John had access to a key to Monty’s house, he would have been able to tamper with his armor. I shivered at the thought.

  Jess went straight to the desk and pulled out the top drawer, removing it completely from the desk and putting it on the floor. “I’ll go through this one,” she said.

  I pulled out the second drawer and put it on the chair for Grandma Grant to go through, and then I opened the third and final drawer of the desk. It was a little deeper than the others and had a filing section.

  I pointed my small flashlight at the files and quickly flipped through them. I glanced over my shoulder at Monty and asked, “Do you have any idea where the contract would be?”

  Monty pulled a face. “I’m usually good at filing official paperwork, but in this case, I’m not even sure if I kept it. I could have shredded it.”

  His eyes traveled over to the compact shredding machine just behind the desk.

  I closed my eyes and groaned. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

  Monty shrugged. “You seemed so excited about having a lead. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  Monty’s face was so remorseful, and his big brown eyes were wide and sad. I couldn’t stay angry at him.

  I carried on working my way through the files.

  A minute or two later, I found something interesting in a file marked miscellaneous.

  I snatched it up and read the first page.

  “This is the evidence we need,” I said, scrambling to my feet ready to high-five Jess, but an unexpected voice behind me made me jump.

  It didn’t belong to Monty, Grandma Grant or Jess.

  We all turned around slowly.

  The masked intruder was back. He wore a black ski mask again so we couldn’t see his face, but this time we were much closer to him, and I could tell the intruder was a man. Although he was slim, he had muscular shoulders and thin hips.

  “Put the contract on the ground along with your cell phones and then step back,”

  “No!” Jess said. “Why should we? We outnumber you. I’m calling the police.”

  It was the wrong thing to say to the man in black. He took a menacing step forward and then pulled out a gun.

  Jess’s fingers froze above the screen of her cell phone, and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

  I leaned down to place the paperwork on the floor in front of him. “We’ll do whatever you want,” I said. “There’s no need for anyone to get hurt.”

  I looked up at him as he waited for me to put the contract down. I could just about make out his eyes, even though it was dark. It was John Gastineau. I was sure of it.

  He was so busy glaring at Jess and me, he didn’t notice Grandma Grant slip behind him.

  I held my breath, waiting to see what she would do. I saw her lips moving and wondered if she was muttering a spell. Then she gave a flick of her fingers, and suddenly, shooting out of the attic, came a large walking stick. At the top of the stick, a stag’s head had been carved from the wood.

  In the next instant, Grandma Grant was behind John Gastineau and had the stick pressed firmly against his ribs.

  “Stick ‘em up,” Grandma Grant said, beaming proudly.

  John froze, and slowly he began to raise his hands, but he kept hold of the gun.

  Quick as a flash, Grandma Grant leaned forward, grabbed hold of the ski mask and pulled it off, revealing that I had been right. It was John Gastineau.

  “John!” Monty exclaimed.

  I knew this was hard for Monty, but he wasn’t my first concern right now. My priority was getting us all out of this unharmed, and that didn’t seem likely when John was still holding the gun.

  “Put the gun down on the floor,” I said sternly.

  John began to move forward slowly, but before he could put the gun on the floor, Grandma Grant’s grip on the stick slipped, and it clattered to the ground.

  “Oops,” she said.

  John turned, and when he saw he’d been duped and Grandma Grant had been holding him up with a walking stick, he snarled at her, waving the gun around like a maniac.

  He gathered us into one corner of the room.

  “Stay there and don’t move,” he ordered as he shuffled towards the pages of the contract, keeping his eyes on us as he reached down.

  “Monty’s probably got all sorts of weapons up there,” Jessica hissed at Grandma Grant. “Why couldn’t you have summoned a sword? Why did you get a walking stick?”

  I know it really wasn’t the time or the place, but I couldn’t help feeling satisfied that Grandma Grant’s spells didn’t always work out the way she planned. It seemed some things did run in the family.

  “Everyone’s a critic,” Grandma Grant mumbled. “I don’t see you getting us out of this mess.”

  Jess caught my eye. She was trying to signal something to me, but I couldn’t understand what she meant.

  She raised her flashlight and shone it in John’s eyes.

  It was enough to temporarily dazzle him, and he dropped the gun, raising his hands to cover his face.

  “Quick, now!” Jess yelled.

  We needed to take advantage of John’s temporary setback, but we couldn’t run to the door because he was blocking our path. Instead, we ran up the stairs to the attic.

  Once we were up there, I looked around in horror as I realized there was no door we could lower to shut out John. There was only one way out of the attic, too. The way we’d come in. I looked in dismay at the two small windows. There was no way we could fit through them.

  The area was crammed with Monty’s battle outfits, but I couldn’t see how that was going to help us.

  “Quick,” Monty said. “We can block his way up to the attic with this!”

  He pulled a huge metal shield out from a dark corner, and we all helped him to heave it over. We placed it over the entrance to the attic, and Monty sat on top of it. It was made of heavy metal, but it wouldn’t do much against bullets.

  I shivered. John had us cornered. It was only a matter of time before he burst into the attic.

  Monty did his best to hold the shield in place, as John shoved and pushed from below, but he still wasn’t one hundred percent confident in his ability to interact with solid objects, and the stress of the situation was causing him to panic.

  Grandma Grant grabbed the flashlight from Jess.

  “What are you doing?” Jess and I asked in unison.

  “I know SOS,” Grandma Grant said. “I’m going to flash a signal out of the window.”

  As Grandma Grant started to turn the flashlight on and off, Jess groaned. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

  Suddenly, Monty lost concentration and slipped through the shield. John managed to push the shield aside and poked his head an
d shoulders into the attic.

  He began to lift his arm. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  But Monty hadn’t given up trying to help us. He got hold of one of the helmets from a suit of armor and yanked it down over John’s head, clasping the visor shut so he couldn’t see.

  John tumbled down the attic steps, landing awkwardly on the floor.

  Jess, Grandma Grant and I rushed down the stairs from the attic, making our escape.

  I snatched up a few pages of the contract on the way, as I ran around John’s motionless body.

  We barreled our way down the main staircase, intending to go out the front way this time, but as Grandma Grant yanked open the front door, we came face-to-face with Chief Wickham.

  Chapter 30

  Grandma Grant disentangled herself from Chief Wickham, and I was glad to see he immediately lowered his weapon. His eyes widened as he looked down at Grandma Grant in disbelief.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as he gaped at us.

  Grandma Grant sighed. “Well, it’s a long story, but it all started –”

  “You’ll have to explain later,” Chief Wickham said, cutting her off. “We’re about to apprehend John Gastineau. Is he here?”

  I nodded. “He’s upstairs. In the room to the right of the hall.”

  Behind Chief Wickham, I saw Joe watching me. His expression was a mixture of fury, disappointment and exasperation. “Harper?”

  I opened my mouth to try and explain but shut it again quickly. I didn’t have the first idea how to even begin to defend my reasoning for being here. It’s not like I could tell him about Monty’s ghost.

  “He’s unconscious,” Jess told them, helpfully.

  “How did that happen?” Chief Wickham asked, looking from me to Jess and then to Grandma Grant. “Never mind. You can explain later,” he added with a sigh.

  Chief Wickham and Joe made their way past us, and I saw Officer Tardy was bringing up the rear.

  Joe asked Officer Tardy to take us outside and keep us a safe distance away. Grandma Grant moaned. She didn’t want to miss all the fun. But Officer Tardy insisted on escorting us out of the door and across the road to a police vehicle.

 

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