The Case of the Banishing Spell

by Amorette Anderson

  Neville continues. “Since nothing seemed out of the ordinary, I went back to bed. Then, this morning, when Dawson was cleaning Raul’s room, he spotted this paw print.”

  “Where was Raul while Dawson was cleaning?” I ask. “Have you seen him today?”

  Dawn chimes in. “No. Not today. He must have headed out to wherever he goes. Goodness knows where he’s going to get covered in so much dirt. Off into the woods somewhere, is my guess. But why?” She frowns.

  Neville looks my way, and wiggles his brows. “A real mystery, isn’t it Detective Banks?” he says playfully

  “It is,” I say.

  Dawn speaks up again. “Raul’s so quiet. I wish he would talk to us, and tell us his plans. Since we have no idea what he’s doing here in town, we also don’t know when he’s going to check out. I should never have told him that he could stay for as long as he needs.”

  “It’s good business,” says Neville.

  “But is it?” Dawn asks her husband. “It’s not going to be good business if he causes trouble Saturday, during the Harvest dance! I don’t like the idea of two giant dogs—”

  “Wolves” interjects Neville.

  Dawn ignores this. “—that he didn’t even tell us about running around this place. I think it would make the members of this Historical Society very uncomfortable. Don’t you, Penny?”

  “Yes, I’d imagine it would,” I say honestly. Then I ask, “So you didn’t see Raul leave, this morning, before his room was cleaned? But then the room was empty... no dogs—” I glance at Neville and correct myself, “I mean, no wolves—and no Raul?”

  “That’s correct,” Dawn answers. “Raul must have headed out very early, and he must have brought those creatures with him. Really, I don’t like it one bit.”

  “And he’s not back yet?” I guess.

  Dawn looks at the door, as if she’s nervous that Raul and his pets might arrive at any moment.

  “Not yet,” she says. “What do you make of it, Penny? Neville and I were hoping that you might do whatever you do to investigate this man. If he’s up to no good, the police ought to know about it, right?”

  “And if he’s traveling around with some sort of tame wolves, animal control should know about it,” Neville says.

  “We don’t want trouble for the inn,” says Dawn. “But we also don’t want trouble for this town. Hillcrest has seen enough unpleasantness this year.”

  She’s right. Two murders, in less than six months. I frown, thinking of the unfortunate events.

  Neville reads my expression. “All of this crime,” he says, shaking his head. “What’s happened to our little safe-haven? Hillcrest used to be such a peaceful place. Ah well, the only constant is change, I suppose. Even our quaint little town is subject to it.”

  It sure is, I think to myself.

  In more ways than Dawn and Neville could ever fathom.

  You see, this past summer, when an elderly woman died, I inherited a book from her. It turned out that the woman, Claudine Terra, was a witch. The book, called ‘The Art and Science of Becoming a Witch’ (or ASBW for short), supposedly turns humans into magical beings.

  Namely, witches.

  I’m on my way to becoming a real witch.

  When Claudine died, a magical portal just beyond her house up Hillcrest Pass, opened up. Our small mountain town became exposed to magical beings of all shapes and sizes.

  But Dawn and Neville don't’ know about all of that.

  As I think about magic, an idea strikes me like a lightning bolt.

  A strange fellow, acting odd, renting out a room.... Could he have arrived through the portal? Is he magical?

  It would make sense.

  My train of thought is going full-steam now. Choo - choo! If he’s a magical being, could that be connected to Neville’s wolf sighting?

  Neville and Dawn haven’t seen Raul with the wolves. Could Raul be one of the wolves?

  Is Raul a—

  Gulp!

  —werewolf?

  Oh, crap.

  I feel Dawn and Neville staring at me intently.

  “What do you think?” Dawn says, after a long pause. “Can you help us with this?”

  “You called the right person,” I say.

  I mean it, too. As a witch-in-training, I’m one of the only people in town who would take the possibility of a wolf staying at the local inn seriously.

  “Neville,” I say. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think that you really saw two wolves out on the sidewalk last night.”

  “Thank you, Penny,” Neville says.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll poke around town and see what I can figure out. If this guy has been leaving the inn during the day—and possibly at night, too—someone must have seen him around. I’ll try to figure out what he’s been up to. If it’s something illegal, I’ll let the P.D. know about it.”

  Dawn breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, dear,” she says.

  “And try to get a picture of Raul’s wolves, too,” Neville says. “He must only let them out at night, or something. I don’t know what he does with them during the day,” he scratches his bald head, just above his ear.

  Then, as if thinking is hurting his head, he shakes it. “Well,” he glances at the clock. “It’s five now. Time for a beverage. Can we get you a glass of wine, Penny love?”

  Dawn glances at the clock too. “Ah, happy hour!” she says. “I’ll have a fuzzy navel.” She winks at me.

  I remember how much Dawn liked her cocktails. I grin as I return to the armchairs, and begin gathering my things. I stuff the paper with a few random notes on it back into my bag, and then add in the jar of jam. It makes my bag bulge. I loop the strap over my shoulder.

  “Nothing for me,” I say. “I have work to do.” I pat my bag. “I have to do some detecting to earn this jam, right? I’ll see what I can figure out by morning time.”

  “Don’t feel you have to work all night,” Neville says. As if on second thought, he adds in, “Though the guy does seem to take his wolves out for fresh air while the rest of us are sleeping...”

  I feel myself wince. Yep. This definitely stinks of werewolf.

  “I’ll most likely post up in front tonight,” I say. “Somewhere out of the way. You might not see me, but just know I’m on the case.” I flash a quick thumbs-up. It feels fun, so I do it again. “Penny Banks, on the case!” I say, giving my thumbs-up again.

  Dawn looks confused. “You just said that,” she notes.

  “I know,” I say. “But it sounded cool. All right then! I’ll head out and get to work!” I pat my bag.

  “Penny?” Dawn says, her tone concerned. “If you see him doing anything illegal, please try to get it sorted before Saturday evening. I don’t want a big scene here during the event. I know it sounds silly, but...”

  Neville puts his arm around Dawn’s shoulder. “If the man is dangerous, then the authorities will have to arrest him when they can,” he says. “Regardless of our schedule. We have to allow whatever is best for the town to happen.” Then, to me, he says, “Just do what you have to do.”

  “I will,” I say.

  “You have Marty’s number, too?” Neville asks. “Animal Control? In case you spot the wolves?”

  “I can find it,” I say.

  It’s not like I call Animal Control every day, but I’m a smart woman. I can find the number if I need it. I’m antsy to get out the door. There might be werewolves out loose in my little town, and it’s now up to me to track them down and deal with them.

  I wave as I continue backing out of the lobby. “I’ll be in touch,” I say. “If not tonight with an update, then at least bright and early tomorrow morning!”

  “Thank you, Penny,” Dawn says. “We really appreciate your help. Be safe, dear!”

  “I will,” I promise.

  Chapter Three

  Immediately after I leave the Hillcrest Inn, I call Chris.

  He doesn’t pick up.

  When his voic
email clicks on, I leave one of my usual, succinct, well-thought-out messages. Not.

  “Hey, Chris. It’s me. Penny. Have you seen two strangers around lately? Guys in their thirties. One is short and stocky with black hair, and the other one is tall and lean with dark hair too—black, I think—yeah, probably, since his beard is black.”

  I bite my lip, thinking. “The one with the beard wears a grey beanie though...but if his beard is black, then his hair must be black too—not that it’s all that important, but... yeah. One of them is staying at the Hillcrest Inn and Dawn doesn’t have a good feeling about him.” I pause, wondering if I should go into Neville’s wolf sighting. Nah.

  “Anyways, you should probably know about these two guys, and tell the other officers too. They might be a pair to watch out for. I’m going to see what I can find out, but I thought you should know. Umm... are you at work? Well, call me back. I think you’re on the night shift tonight, but if you’re not, do you want to hang out? Oh, wait! I can’t hang out because—oh, just call me back.” I hang up.

  Whew!

  I’m winded.

  I’m lingering by my bike, and now I hop on it and adjust my bag so that it’s sitting in the center of my lower back. I can feel the jar of jam, heavy in my bag. I can’t wait to try some of it!

  As far as I’m concerned, now that I know more about the case, the jam is just an extra.

  Even if I wasn’t being paid, I’d want to try to figure out what Hillcrest’s most recent visitors are doing here—especially because wolves seem to be involved.

  This has ‘magic portal’ written all over it.

  When Claudine Terra died and passed ASBW down to me, she also passed on a great responsibility. As a part of the Terra Coven it’s my duty to guard the portal.

  Apparently, my coven sisters and I haven’t been doing such a wonderful job. If these guys are magical, then they snuck right through that portal without us even blinking an eye.

  I’m thinking so hard about all of this that I almost ride right past Marley, who is walking down the sidewalk on main street.

  “Penny!” she calls out, as I’m about to pass her, deep in my daze.

  I skid to a stop. “Hey!” I say. “What are you doing? Want to help me do some detective work?”

  She shakes her head.

  Marley has long, black, thick hair, thanks to her Indian heritage, and as she shakes her head her high ponytail swishes back and forth. She’s wearing leggings and a tie dyed tank top. I don’t know how she’s not cold, given the crisp fall weather and the fact that the girl doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her, but that’s something I’ve learned about Marley over the years—she marches to the beat of her own drum.

  “I’m on my way to a massage. Melanie Haywater.” Marley rolls her eyes, naming the mayor of Hillcrest’s high-maintenance ex-wife.

  “How is she doing?” I ask.

  “Still as pampered as ever,” Marley says. She pulls her phone out of her purse and looks at her phone. “It starts at 5:30 so I’ll be done by 6:30. What kind of detective work are you doing?”

  “Dawn asked me to do some snooping for her,” I say. “She has this strange guy staying at the inn, and she wants me to figure out what his deal is. I think—” I stop short, and beckon Marley to come in closer to me.

  Marley gives me a curious look, and steps in. We both look around. The sidewalk is nearly empty, for the moment. Nevertheless, I keep my voice a whisper. “I think her inn guest might be a werewolf.”

  “What?!” Marley whispers back. “Are werewolves real?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But vampires are, and so are witches. So maybe...”

  I can’t believe I’m really saying this. I can’t believe I’m really thinking this. But, if you’d told me a year ago that I would be able to levitate by simply whispering a phrase in Latin, I wouldn’t have believed that, either. And now, I levitate every time I have to reach something on the top shelf of my pantry.

  Unless Chris is around. I don’t want to freak him out or anything.

  “Did he come over Hillcrest Pass?” Marley asks, naming the magical portal behind the Terra mansion.

  “He must have. I don’t know.” I glance up and down the sidewalk. Still clear. “His name is Raul... he’s a short, stocky guy in his mid-thirties. He had a visitor with a black beard and a grey beanie. Neville saw two wolves outside of the inn last night... I’m betting it was these two strangers: Raul and his visitor. And if they’re werewolves, it’s our job to protect the town. We have to get them out of here.”

  Marley nods. “Agreed,” she says. “I’ll tell the others.” She begins tapping away on her phone while she continues talking.

  I know that she’s texting Cora and Annie, the other two members in our knitting circle turned witchcraft study group.

  “I can meet up with you after my massage to help out,” Marley says. “Should I ask the others to join us?”

  I shake my head. “Not just yet,” I say. “I don’t even know what we’re dealing with. For now, just warn them that there might be a couple of werewolves around. I want to observe these guys—Raul and his visitor—and see if they’re dangerous. Then we can make a strategy about how to deal with them, when it comes to that.”

  Marley finishes her text, and then slips her phone back into her bag.

  “So what’s your plan for tonight?” she asks.

  “First I’m going to cover the town now and find out what I can. I’ll go to the cafe, the library, the bookstore, The Place, The O.P., and the market, and just figure out who’s seen these guys.”

  “Good idea,” Marley says. She begins twirling an end of her long black hair in her fingers as she thinks. After a minute she says, “I’ve been around town a lot these last few days, and I don’t think I’ve seen either of the guys you described.”

  “Well, hopefully someone has,” I say.

  “And that’s your plan,” Marley says. She sounds disappointed.

  “That’s not my entire plan,” I say. “You haven’t heard the best part.”

  She perks up a bit. “You’re going to sneak into his room at the inn and hide in the closet, and then jump out and—”

  “No!” I say. “I’m going to do overnight surveillance.”

  “Really?” Marley squeals. She starts jumping up and down and clapping her hands. The bracelets on her wrist clatter against one another as she claps. “You are?”

  I’m grinning now, ear to ear. I’ve always wanted to have a reason to do overnight surveillance. Marley knows this about me. Probably because I’ve been blabbing her ear off about it for the past five years, ever since I took the lesson in my PI program called: ‘Overnight Surveillance: The Pinnacle of PI Skills’.

  “This is it!” Marley says, bouncing towards me and giving me a hug. “It’s really happening!”

  “It is!” I say. “Can we take your van?”

  Have I mentioned that Marley lives in a retro VW van? She does. It’s a cool rig, with a pull-out bed and little kitchen in the back.

  “Heck, yeah,” Marley answers. “This is going to be so fantastic! What time should we start?”

  “I was thinking around dark,” I say. “I’m going to run around town for a while and then go feed Turkey. Want to pick me up at my apartment at seven? That gives you a chance to finish up your massage and then get back up to the van.”

  “Perfect,” Marley says. “I’ll throw in a wash when I’m at your place, and maybe take a quick shower.”

  Marley parks her van at an old abandoned mine at the foot of Hillcrest Pass. No matter how many times I invite her to live with me, she always refuses. She’s a free spirit.

  That doesn’t stop her from coming over to use my washer and dryer, shower, and even sleep on the couch once in a while, when the temperatures drop below zero, and her little heater no longer cuts it.

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  Marley and I part ways.

  For the next hour and a half I cruise around Hillcrest
on my bike, stopping into various hotspots to ask questions. Each interview ends in the same way: No one has seen the two strangers.

  I return home, puzzled. How is it that two strangers visiting Hillcrest have remained invisible to the public? What have Raul and his buddy been up to for the past few days?

  When I open the door to my apartment, I spot Turkey on one of the barstools that is pulled up to my counter. He has my laptop out, and his little paw is on the mousepad.

  He turns his cute little calico head towards the doorway as he says, telepathically, “Welcome home, Penelope”.

  I walk straight up to him and give him a pat on the head and a kiss on the nose. Glancing at the computer screen I ask, “What are you up to? Playing Candy Crush or something?”

  “Playing... oh, no...” Turkey says. “No, Penelope. As usual, you underestimate me.”

  I leave his side and walk into my little kitchen. While I reach for a glass from the cupboards, Turkey says, “I’m reading. I figured out how to take out ebooks from the library. I’m using your account. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” I say. “It’s good one of us is using that account. My life is too crazy for library books these days. I don’t have time—”

  “Your life is too crazy not to read library books,” Turkey interjects, correcting me. “When was the last time you read up on time management, for example?”

  I try to think back. Now I have a full glass of water in my hand, and I gulp it down as I think. Finishing, I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth and then give a loud “Ahh!” sound.

  Then, I answer my cat. “It must have been a few years back. Jumper Strongheart came out with that book: ‘Karate-Chop The Day: How To Demolish Your To-Do List’.

  “Right,” Turkey says. “You were doing so well there, for a few weeks. Then you went back to sleeping in. If you woke up earlier, you might have more time for reading library books.”

  “Maybe,” I say, noncommittally. “But my bed is so cozy and snuggly in the morning.”

  I reach for a bowl from the cupboard, and then pull a spoon from the utensil drawer.