Witch is When The Bubble Burst (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 5)

by Adele Abbott

  Aunt Lucy must have caught my gaze because she laughed. “Looking for Jethro?”

  “Who? Oh, Jethro. No, I’d forgotten all about him. I was just admiring the flowerbeds.”

  “Of course you were, dear. Of course you were.”

  Chapter 17

  Aunt Lucy kept giggling to herself, and then apologising, all the way back to her house. I couldn’t blame her; only I could get myself into such a mess—with Barry’s help that is. If nothing else, it had lifted her out of the funk she’d been in when I arrived. Now I just had to hope the twins had done their stuff. As we reached the door, there were no sounds or signs of life inside.

  “Come on in, Jill. We’ll have a nice cup of tea and a piece of cake. It’s my birthday, so I’m going to push the boat out.” She laughed.

  Everyone was a comedian.

  “Surprise!” A dozen voices yelled. Party poppers cracked, and silly string covered Aunt Lucy, me and Barry. I hated that stuff.

  “You!” Aunt Lucy beamed. “I should have known.”

  “Happy birthday, Mum!” The twins rushed over to hug and kiss their mother.

  She kissed them both.

  “Happy birthday, Lucy.” Lester came over and gave her a kiss.

  The table was full of food: sandwiches, snacks and more cakes than I’d ever seen in one place.

  “Champagne!” Amber held the bottle aloft, and then popped the cork.

  Everyone cheered, and sang ‘happy birthday’ while the champagne was poured.

  “To Mum,” Pearl raised her glass. “Happy birthday!”

  “Happy Birthday!” echoed around the room.

  An hour later the party was in full swing. Music I’d never heard before, blasted out of the speakers and most people were dancing—if you could call it that.

  “What’s all this noise?” Grandma had made an appearance. “I was trying to get my beauty sleep.”

  Beauty sleep? She’d need to sleep for a million years for it to have any effect.

  “It’s a party, Mother,” Aunt Lucy said. “For my birthday? You remember that don’t you? You were there at the time.”

  “No one told me about a party. Typical.”

  “Well you’re here now,” Aunt Lucy sprayed silly string over Grandma. She was way braver than me. “Why don’t you help yourself to a drink?”

  “Well, seeing as how I’m never going to get any sleep, I might as well. Mind you, what I really fancy is an ice cream. For some reason I can’t stop thinking about them.”

  Pearl, Amber, Lester and me all had to look away.

  By midnight, everyone was beginning to flag—except Grandma, who was still rock ‘n’ rolling.

  “How does she do it?” Amber asked.

  “She must be taking something.” Pearl flopped down next to us. “It isn’t natural.”

  “You youngsters!” Grandma came dancing over to us. “You just don’t have the stamina.”

  “I’m going to bed,” Amber said.

  “Me too.” Pearl started to follow her.

  “Looks like you need to.” Grandma cackled. “Oh, and by the way. I forgot to mention, I’ve rescheduled your next lesson. It’s tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp.”

  ***

  The next morning, the three of us looked as bad as each other. My head felt like it would explode at any moment.

  Barry came rushing into my room. “Walk, I want to go for a walk.”

  “Forget it. Aunt Lucy will take you later.”

  “Walk!”

  “Hush. My head hurts.”

  He turned and walked away, sulking.

  “Do you think Grandma was serious about a lesson this morning?” I said, more out of desperation than hope.

  “Of course she was serious.” Amber was holding a wet flannel to her forehead.

  “I reckon she’s doing it out of revenge.” Pearl swallowed a couple of painkillers. “Did you hear what she said about the ice cream? I think she knew we’d been blocking our thoughts. That’s why she’s doing this.”

  “What would happen if we didn’t show up?” I blinked my eyes to try to lessen the double vision.

  “Do you really want to find out?”

  I didn’t. Bad as I felt, I knew the punishment for not showing up would be far worse.

  ***

  Grandma had left word that we should meet her at the Spell-Range. We must have looked a sorry sight as we made our way there in almost total silence.

  “Well, if it isn’t the Terrific Three.” Grandma greeted us as we stepped inside the gates.

  How did she look so fresh? I’d seen her knocking back the champagne like it was going out of style, and yet here she was looking as fresh as a daisy—a very ugly daisy, but a daisy nonetheless.

  “Do you remember which spell we’re going to be practising today?” Grandma said.

  Amber looked at Pearl. It was obvious neither of them had a clue.

  “‘Tie up’,” I said.

  “Well done. And I assume you have all been practising it as per my instructions?”

  “The cake shop was extra busy this week,” Amber mumbled.

  “That’s a no then is it?”

  “Sorry Grandma.”

  “What about you, Pearl?”

  “The tea room was extra busy too.”

  “Nought for two so far. Jill?”

  Normally, I made a point of spending extra time on the spells which Grandma said she’d cover in the lesson. This week though I hadn’t had the chance because of the kidnapping case.

  “Sorry, Grandma. I’ve been rather tied up.”

  I swear I hadn’t realised what I was saying until the words were already out of my mouth. Amber and Pearl looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. I had a horrible feeling I was about to lose much more than that.

  “A comedian, eh?” Grandma fixed me with her evil eye.

  “No, I—err—I didn’t—”

  “Well, seeing as how none of you have bothered to put in any practise, I’ll demonstrate the spell for you.”

  I saw Amber and Pearl sigh with relief, but I had a bad feeling about this.

  Grandma closed her eyes, raised her hand and the next thing I knew all three of us were lying on the ground—bound from head to toe with rope.

  “Grandma!” Pearl shouted. “Untie us. We’re sorry.”

  “Sorry, what did you say?” Grandma put a hand to her ear. “I’m going a little deaf.”

  “Please,” Amber shouted, as Grandma began to walk away.

  “I have a date,” I called after her.

  It took us ages to get untied. We called for help, but no one was prepared to come to our assistance for fear of what Grandma might do to them. Only by rolling next to one another and pulling at the knots with our teeth, did we eventually free ourselves.

  “I have to run,” I shouted, already headed for the gates.

  I’d arranged to meet Drake in a coffee shop close to the park where we first met. I had planned to go home after the lesson to get tidied up and changed.

  ***

  “You really shouldn’t have made such an effort.” He laughed when I walked through the door. I pulled a leaf from my hair, and brushed dry mud from my jeans.

  “Sorry. I had to come straight from the Spell-Range. Blame Grandma.”

  “Have you been upsetting her again? I thought you knew better than to do that.”

  Drake had finished his first drink, so he ordered a top-up and I had a flat white with two shots. I was still struggling to get going after the celebrations of the night before.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a wreck,” I said. “It was Aunt Lucy’s birthday yesterday, and the champagne was flowing a little too freely.”

  He smiled. “It’s good to see you again. I wasn’t sure if I ever would.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I behaved badly.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t okay. I should at least have listened to your side of the story.”

  “My
main concern right now is Raven. He’s fallen in with a bad lot, and I’m worried what it might lead to. He’s not a bad kid. He’s just misguided.”

  “He must think a lot of you to come looking for me, and put me straight about your imprisonment.”

  “I had no idea he’d done that. Like I said before, I don’t even know where he is, but at least now I know he’s alive.”

  “I’ll be happy to help you to find him. But only if you want me to.”

  “I’m desperate to find him, and I’m sure you could help. I don’t want to put you in danger though.”

  “I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.” I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window. “Except when it comes to Grandma, obviously.”

  We laughed.

  Just then my phone rang. It was Daze.

  “Sorry, I have to take this.”

  Drake nodded.

  “Where? When? Right now? I’m not really—okay, I’ll be there.” I ended the call, and turned back to Drake. “I’m really sorry, but something urgent has come up.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll catch up later.”

  ***

  I cast a spell, and focussed on the Washbridge address which Daze had given to me. I wasn’t on my ‘A’ game so landed unceremoniously in a hedge next to the bench where Daze was sitting.

  “Nice landing.” She laughed. “What on earth happened to you?”

  “It’s a long story which involves Grandma and a length of rope. I’ll tell you some other time.”

  Daze gave me the lowdown on the Rogue she was out to retrieve. Her target today was a little old lady who ran a sweet shop on the outskirts of Washbridge. I left Daze on the bench while I wandered casually across the road and peered in through the window. It was one of those shops which sold sweets from jars. It had a feel of the fifties and sixties—an era I had an affinity with. I was tempted by the sherbet dip, but that would have been unprofessional.

  “Are you sure about this?” I said when I got back to Daze. “She looks like a lovely old lady.”

  “Of course she does. That’s the whole point. If she looked like your grandmother, do you think any kids would go into her shop?”

  Good point.

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Did you see the notice next to the door? It says ‘free sweets today for kids under five'. That’s how she gets them inside.”

  I hadn’t seen it. I’d been distracted by the sherbet dip. “What about their parents?”

  “If a kid goes in with his parents, he gets the free sweets. It’s the kids that go in by themselves who are in trouble.”

  “Surely no kids under five would be out by themselves?”

  “You’d be surprised. And besides, do you think kids who are six, seven, eight or even older wouldn’t try it on? Of course they would. She prefers them young, but she’ll take them any age below teens.”

  This sounded like the stuff of nightmares. I was still finding it hard to believe it of the sweet little old lady I’d seen behind the counter. Maybe Daze had been given bad info.

  “Look!” Daze pointed to a small boy looking at the notice in the window. “He’s going in.”

  I didn’t need telling twice. I cast the ‘invisible’ spell followed by the ‘faster’ spell. I managed to reach the door just in time to sneak in after him.

  “It says free sweets,” the little boy said.

  “So it does, sweetheart,” the old lady said. “Would you like some?”

  He nodded.

  “Of course you would. Come with me. The free sweets are all in the back.”

  “Can’t I have some of these?” He pointed to the liquorice torpedoes.

  “Not those. The free sweets are much nicer than those. Come with me, let me show you.”

  As soon as he’d taken her hand, she dragged him into the back of the shop. I followed, and noticed her face had transformed from sweet old lady to wicked witch with acne. The witch hit a red button on the wall, and a huge door opened in front of her. The heat from the oven hit me in the face.

  “Let me go!” the little boy screamed as she dragged him towards the oven. “I want my Mummy!”

  I slammed the oven door closed, grabbed the boy’s other arm and then pushed the witch to the ground.

  “I’ll kill you!” she screamed as she got back to her feet. “Your invisibility won’t save you.” She cast a spell, which must have somehow reversed my invisibility because the boy was staring at me in disbelief.

  “There’s plenty of room in the oven for you too!” She threw herself at me. I turned my back to her, sheltering the boy as best I could. I braced myself for the impact, but it never came.

  “Let me out!” she screamed.

  I turned to see the witch struggling to get free of Daze’s net, but it was too late. She disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

  The boy was inconsolable. He’d never get over this unless—

  “There you go.” I gave him a bag full of liquorice torpedoes. The ‘forget’ spell had wiped the horrifying ordeal from his memory.

  “Thanks for your help, Jill,” Daze said.

  “No problem. I’m sorry I doubted you. She just looked so sweet.”

  “The worst ones always do.”

  Chapter 18

  Although no body had been found, it was pretty obvious that, since finding the bloodied tee-shirt, the police now considered the Amanda Banks case to be a murder enquiry. I might not always be the best judge of character, but I didn’t buy the idea that Steve Lister had murdered his girlfriend.

  My next stop was the university. Steve had given me the name of one particular student, Kelly Lowe, who Amanda was friendly with. I caught up with her at lunch time.

  “How was Amanda the last time you saw her?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “You don’t sound very sure.”

  “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

  “Look, Kelly. Right now we have no idea where Amanda is. She could be in danger. Every minute we waste makes it more likely this won’t end well. Who are you protecting?”

  “Amanda was usually bubbly, you know. I mean she was happy all the time, and she really loved Steve.”

  I sensed a ‘but’ coming.

  “But that last day, she walked out of class without saying a word to the tutor. I found her in the loo. She’d been crying. When I asked her what was wrong, she said Steve was cheating on her with her best friend.”

  “Did she tell you her best friend’s name?”

  “Rachel. I don’t know her last name.”

  “Did she say how she found out?”

  “She was pretty upset. She could barely talk for crying. I think she saw them out together somewhere.”

  “Could she have been mistaken?”

  “That’s what I said. I know Steve, and he isn’t the kind of guy who would cheat on her. At least, I didn’t think so.”

  “So what happened afterwards?”

  “Nothing. I wanted to go back to her flat with her, but she said she wanted to be alone.” Kelly began to cry. “I shouldn’t have let her go by herself. If I’d been with her maybe none of this would have happened.”

  “You shouldn’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”

  It appeared my earlier concerns about Steve and Rachel may have been on the mark. But what did that mean? Had Amanda called Steve to the holiday home to confront him? Had he lashed out and killed her, and then tried to hide it by staging the kidnapping? It simply didn’t ring true. Why would she bother going to the holiday home? Why not confront him on campus or at her flat? I needed to talk to Rachel again, but when I called I got her voicemail. Her recorded message said she was out of town until the following day.

  ***

  I ate lunch on the run as I made my way back to the office. Gordon Armitage was standing outside the building, shouting instructions to two men who were working on the sign.

  “Problem with the sign, Gordon?” I said, barely hiding my grin.


  He glared at me, but said nothing.

  The outer office was full of people, all seated, all knitting. Mrs V was at her desk, and she waved when she spotted me. I threaded my way through the seats.

  “Did I mention the classes I’m running?” Mrs V said.

  “I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

  “Silly me. I’d forget my head if it was loose.”

  “Who are all of these people?” I said in a whisper.

  “They’re the new people who have moved in. The ‘I Am Poo’ staff.”

  That explained where all the chairs had come from at least.

  “A couple of them recognised me from Wool TV, and asked if I’d be prepared to run classes one lunch time each week.”

  I glanced around the room. There were women of all ages, and over by the window a solitary man.

  “That’s Leroy. He’s a genius with the knit and purl,” Mrs V said. “I’ve told him he should aim for the regionals.”

  Leroy looked up, smiled and waved a knitting needle. I smiled, and waved back.

  “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you,” Mrs V said. “I hope you don’t mind me doing this.”

  “Err—no—it’s fine, I guess. It might be a good idea to leave a pathway through to my office though. On the off-chance a paying client should turn up.”

  “Have you seen that sorry looking crowd out there?” Winky said when I made it through to my office. “They make this place look unprofessional.”

  “Hmm, I see you’re playing darts again,” I said.

  Winky hit three double tops in quick succession.

  “Just keeping my hand in. There’s a tournament next month.”

  “Where?”

  “West Moreland.”

  “That’s forty miles away.”

  “So?”

  “How will you get there?”

  “You’ll take me, of course.”

  “No chance.”

  “Oh, I see. You don’t mind supporting the old bag lady when she takes part in some stupid knitting competition, but you won’t support me in one of the most prestigious darts tournaments of the year.”