Rags to Witches

by Colleen Cross

“Don’t worry, Cen. We’ll act normal.” Mom squeezed my hand.

  “You really don’t have to follow us all the way to security. We’re perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves,” Aunt Pearl protested.

  “Maybe a little too capable,” I said. “I want to see you get on the plane.” I was confident that my aunt wouldn’t pull any tricks once she was onboard. But until she passed through the security gate, she was a flight risk, so to speak. I had no illusions about that.

  “I don’t see why we can’t use a little magic,” Aunt Pearl protested. “Ruby and I could have teleported back to Westwick Corners faster than it took to drive here.”

  “No more witchcraft, Aunt Pearl. At least not until you’re safely back in Westwick Corners.” I had arranged for Aunt Amber to meet them at the Shady Creek airport and drive them back to Westwick Corners.

  Aunt Amber also happened to be a high-ranking WICCA official, so she had her own reasons for ensuring Aunt Pearl behaved. Whatever punishments WICCA handed out would likely be minimal, but at least Aunt Pearl had to answer to someone. The last thing she would risk losing was her license to practice witchcraft.

  Somebody from the Shady Creek Tattler would almost certainly be waiting for Aunt Pearl and Mom’s arrival, and that was one story I wanted to end well. “Don’t do anything foolish that will hurt our quiet existence in Westwick Corners.”

  While she could technically teleport herself once away from my sight and on the plane, I counted on Mom to talk her out of it. People simply didn’t disappear on commercial flights, and the last thing we needed was an airline incident attracting international attention. Since Aunt Pearl was already in hot water over her card counting scheme, I was fairly certain she wouldn’t do anything foolish.

  We stopped a few feet from the security gate.

  “You’re lucky that Wilt made a full confession, or you might not even be going back. You could be locked up in a cell like him.” I glanced at Mom. “Keep an eye on her, and I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “I think I need a vacation from my vacation.” Mom laughed.

  I was still unclear on exactly how much Aunt Pearl had won in the lottery. Apparently though, it was enough to hire a top-notch criminal defense lawyer for Wilt and cover his bail. Wilt planned to attend a gambling rehab program while he was awaiting trial. He was in good hands.

  We stood at the security check-in and said our goodbyes before Mom and Aunt Pearl passed through the security gate.

  I turned to Tyler and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t believe you came all the way to Las Vegas. How did you know I’d need your help?”

  “Just a hunch. I had a feeling you were in over your head.” He pulled me towards him and pressed his lips to mine.

  I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the Racatellis or Aunt Pearl, but I didn’t need an answer. I had other things on my mind.

  We watched Mom and Aunt Pearl’s flight take off and then headed back to the airport parking lot where the RV was parked. We planned to drive it back to the RV dealer in Shady Creek where Aunt Pearl had gotten it.

  It turned out that the RV was real after all. Aunt Pearl hadn’t conjured it up. She had taken it for a test drive and simply never returned it. She had made it disappear once simply to mislead me. It was the only thing about my aunt that was predictable; she would go out of her way to mislead me anytime she could. Outsmarting me was like a form of entertainment for her.

  Everything else was true. Aunt Pearl really had won the lottery, and Wilt really was Danny “Bones” Battilana’s grandson.

  Chapter 40

  The sun peeked through the low clouds as we drove north on the Interstate. We had passed through sun, rain, and, finally, a thunderstorm that had threatened to delay us at the mountains dividing Nevada and northern California. We crested the pass just as the sky brightened before us.

  I glanced at Tyler in the RV driver’s seat. It was strangely comforting to be in the middle of a storm with him, and strangely romantic in our refuge on wheels.

  Manny’s assets were seized, and he remained in jail without bail.

  Rocco had decided to sell the hotel and distance himself from “the family”. An anonymous investor had already made Rocco a generous offer (with encouragement from Aunt Pearl, of course) that allowed Rocco a gracious—and safe—exit.

  Mom, Aunt Pearl, and a little magic would ensure Rocco’s seamless transition to his new life. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but that didn’t matter.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Tyler reached behind the seat and handed me my purse. “I found it on the front seat when I had your car towed back home from the gas station.”

  I rummaged inside and pulled out my cell phone. I unlocked my phone, relieved that the battery was still good. I checked my voicemail. “It seems that word has already gotten out. The Shady Creek Tattler wants my story. In fact, they want to hire me on the spot.”

  Tyler smiled. “Are you going to take it?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sleep on it.” I would have taken the job under any terms a few days ago. But with this latest adventure I realized that from now on, things would be on my own terms.

  I suddenly realized that witchcraft gave me an advantage over other journalists. I could get stories other people couldn’t, just by using my natural talents. Because that’s what they were: perfectly natural. I just had to harness the power of something that was already mine.

  “Let’s go home.” I smiled at Tyler as I scanned the radio for something upbeat.

  “First things first,” Tyler said. “Aren’t we forgetting something?”

  I raced through my mental checklist. Luggage, gas in the tank, and Mom and Aunt Pearl safely delivered to the airport.

  Check.

  I shook my head. “Nope. I think we’ve got everything covered.”

  “Our date?” Tyler grinned. “I traveled hundreds of miles to see you, yet we still haven’t had our date.”

  I glanced at Tyler and smiled. I had gone from obsessing over our date, to barely thinking of it, now that Tyler was with me. Part of that was due to the enormity of the events unfolding, but the real reason was that just being together was all I needed. It felt like a date already. I didn’t need a fancy dinner or night out, just the man beside me.

  I still felt bad, though.

  “I’m really sorry about our date, Tyler. I never expected the kidnapping, Las Vegas, and everything.” Aunt Pearl had a knack for always throwing a wrench into my plans. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  “No, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. Besides, I have an idea.” He took the next highway exit, then turned right at a four-way stop a quarter mile later.

  “Where on earth are we going?” There were no nearby towns, but the sole road sign advertised gas a quarter-mile away. There was only one way to Westwick Corners, and this wasn’t it. This was one kidnapping I wasn’t about to protest. “Better safe than sorry. Bad things happen when I run out of gas.”

  Tyler smiled. “It’s not just gas we need. You’ll see.”

  We slowed as the pavement turned to dirt and potholes. The narrow road wound around a steep hillside, with barely enough room for a car to pass in the opposite direction. Not that we saw much traffic. I wondered about the viability of a gas station in the middle of nowhere.

  A few minutes later we arrived at the gas station. Nine Mile Gap was a tiny hamlet in the middle of nowhere. It was already mid-morning, but there was no sign of life anywhere, including the advertised gas station, a tiny sheet metal building with a single rusted pump. It was deader than dead.

  “This place doesn’t look nine miles to anywhere.” I stared at the dust and grease covered windows as we pulled up to the gas island.

  “Not anymore. This is where I grew up,” Tyler said. “Used to be like Westwick Corners back then. Now it’s more of a ghost town.”

  “Even the gas station is closed.” The sole gas pump was rusted, with weeds entwining the nozzl
e. The old-style numbers that turned as the gas pumped were frozen in time at a price of twenty cents a gallon. I felt bad for Tyler.

  The passage of time was rarely kind to memories. You could never go back in time without disappointment. Things were rarely the same as you remembered them.

  “That’s okay. We’re not here for the gas.” Tyler parked the RV at the far end of the lot and shut off the engine. “Our date starts now.”

  He hopped out of the driver’s seat, walked around the RV, and opened my passenger door. “I know a nice little restaurant around here. It’s a well-kept secret, very exclusive.”

  I stepped down from the RV, taking his outstretched hand.

  We walked around the side of the gas station past an old three-storey brick building. We turned the corner and emerged onto a cobblestone street.

  My mouth dropped open in amazement. We stood at the edge of Main Street in a completely restored 1950s era ghost town. Everything was spotless and freshly painted, yet there wasn’t a soul around. It was as if time had come to a standstill in a bygone era.

  “It was a company town, back in the day. Then the mine closed and it was all but forgotten.”

  I wondered what secrets this town held behind the neat façade.

  We walked slowly down the street, my hand in his. “This reminds me of Westwick Corners, except quieter.” I would never have thought that was possible, yet it was.

  Tyler grinned. “I thought you’d like it. Now let’s go. I’ve been looking forward to our date for ages.”

  I followed Tyler into a pretty little café with flower boxes overflowing with lavender and nasturtiums. The restaurant appeared to be the only place open for business. The floorboards squeaked beneath my feet as I stepped through the door into the dimly lit interior.

  An attractive woman in her late forties emerged from the back to greet us and motioned us towards the side of the restaurant to a window booth. A ceiling fan hummed overhead, creating a refreshing breeze. I followed the woman to a booth overlooking a burbling creek surrounded by lush greenery. It was like we were in another world. “Here okay?” The hostess winked at Tyler, who nodded.

  “It’s beautiful.” I sighed as I slid into the booth seat.

  The woman smiled at me as she handed us menus. Tyler ordered Cokes for both of us.

  I waited until our hostess was halfway to the kitchen before I looked up from my menu. “I hope you’re not too disappointed about the French restaurant and all. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

  Tyler grinned. “It really doesn’t matter where we go. In fact, this might be even better.”

  I scrunched up my nose. “I know what you mean. Fancy restaurants usually have tiny portions. Right now I could eat a horse.”

  Tyler laughed. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What then?” Suddenly it dawned on me. “The hostess recognized you right away. You’ve been back to this restaurant recently.”

  “Plenty of times, Cen.”

  All of a sudden I felt weird. “What is it? You two know each other, don’t you?”

  “I wondered when you’d notice. It’s not just that this is my hometown, Cen. That woman is my mom.”

  “Your mom?” My mouth dropped open and all of a sudden I felt self-conscious as I looked down at my dusty clothing. I re-tied my messy ponytail. “You never said you came from a small town.”

  He laughed. “You never asked.”

  “But I just assumed that since you worked in Las Vegas, that you were from there.”

  “Pretty much everyone there comes from somewhere else, Cen. Since I know your family already, I thought you might as well meet mine.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “No wonder you like Westwick Corners. It’s practically bustling compared to here. But it’s got to be hard to make a living here. How does your mom do it?”

  “She doesn’t exactly. She has another line of business.”

  Before I had a chance to ask more, Tyler’s mom appeared with our Cokes. In hindsight the resemblance was obvious. Tyler’s mom had the same warm brown eyes and welcoming smile as her son.

  “Mom, meet Cen. Cen, this is my mom, Vivica.”

  “Here you go, dear.” She smiled at me as she placed my glass down, then Tyler’s. “I heard about the trouble in Vegas. I’m glad Ty helped you out.”

  “Cen didn’t need my help, Mom. She took care of things just fine.”

  I blushed. “It was nothing, really. Just some family business.” Whether I liked it or not, Aunt Pearl’s troubles were mine too. Whatever Aunt Pearl’s faults, she was loyal to those she cared about, and she would help me too.

  “I heard you handled yourself pretty well.” Vivica Gates smiled. “Considering you were sort of thrown into the middle of things.”

  I wondered exactly what and how much Tyler had told his mom. In the end, it didn’t really matter. What was done was done. People could draw their own conclusions.

  I changed the subject. “Nine Mile Gap seems awfully quiet.”

  Vivica sighed. “The town has seen better days, for sure. Only a few of us still live here now.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “My town is the same way. Everyone is moving away to bigger places.”

  Vivica nodded. “Tyler told me all about your Inn and your plans to resurrect the town.”

  “You could do that too,” I said. “You just need a way to market the town to tourists.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I quite like the solitude. I can do my magic in peace. It’s nice to not have to hide your talents.”

  Tyler smiled at me. “You two have a lot in common.”

  “You’re a-uh...” I couldn’t quite say it.

  “A witch.” Vivica finished my sentence. “Yes. That I am.”

  My mouth dropped open. No wonder Tyler handled Aunt Pearl’s antics so well. Suddenly everything made sense. “This is your big secret, isn’t it? The one that Aunt Pearl’s always going on about.” I had always assumed it was something bad, a dark spot in Tyler’s past.

  His brown eyes twinkled in amusement. “You think there are no other witches around?”

  “You know about us.”

  “Of course I know. I can spot a witch a mile away.”

  “You know about me?”

  Tyler nodded. “Though I haven’t seen any evidence of it. Either you’re very good, or completely out of practice.”

  I grinned. “I’ve been told that I’m both.”

  “You probably take after Pearl that way. Am I right?”

  “Yes.” For the first time ever, I was really proud to be a witch. And Aunt Pearl’s niece to boot. “You’re okay with all my quirks?”

  “Of course, though I’d hardly call witchcraft a quirk, Cen.” Tyler placed his hand on mine. “I’d accept you for who you are no matter what. That’s just what makes you so special. The witchcraft is a bonus.”

  Tyler’s reaction was a refreshing change from my last boyfriend, who saw my supernatural talents as embarrassing and potentially career-ending.

  “It’s kind of nice to see Tyler with a girl somewhat like his mother.” Vivica laughed. “I don’t have to pretend I’m normal either. I can just be myself.” She turned and headed into the kitchen with our orders.

  “I had no idea you were, um...” I was suddenly at a loss for words.

  “A son of a witch?” Tyler grinned as he squeezed my hand.

  I burst out laughing. “Exactly the words I was looking for.”

  For the first time in a long time, I felt good about every aspect of myself. I was comfortable in my own skin. I didn’t have to hide my talents or pretend I was someone else. I could just be me.

  Here I was, a thousand miles away from Westwick Corners in a town I had never been in before. And yet, I was completely at home.

  Did you love Rags to Witches? Get the other books in the series and Colleen’s other books at this link or visit her website: http://www.colleencross.com/

  Author’s Note

>   If you enjoyed Rags to Witches, please recommend it to your friends and leave a short review. It only takes a sentence or two, and word of mouth is an author’s best friend!

  Rags to Witches is the second book in the Westwick Witches Cozy Mysteries series and I have many more books planned. As long as readers like you enjoy my stories, I will continue to write them.

  Want to be the first to know of new releases? Sign up for notifications at www.colleencross.com

  I have also several other mystery and thriller series that you might enjoy. Get my other books here.

  Thank you so much for reading!

  Colleen Cross

  Also By Colleen Cross

  Get the latest on new releases here: www.colleencross.com

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