Spell by Midnight (Witch of Mintwood Book 3)

by Addison Creek

  He removed the cigar from his lips and gave me an incredulous look. “I’m already dead,” he said.

  He had a point.

  “Let me help,” said Gary. He proceeded to show me how to swish my wand gently at the exact moment I cast a spell.

  “There’s an art to it,” said Gary.

  “How did you learn all this stuff about wands?” I said.

  “Your grandmother taught me. She thought you might need help someday, and she wanted me to know enough to offer suggestions. It’s technically against the rules, but she was never one for following rules, your grandmother.”

  My heart skipped a beat upon hearing that Evenlyn had spent time teaching Gary so he could help me after she was gone. It skipped another when he added, “I don’t think she meant to go so quickly. She would have wanted to be here for this.”

  “It’s diagram time,” said Charlie gleefully. We had reached the stage in the case where we had to review all the information we had, in the hope of untangling all the bits and pieces.

  “The killer has to be the cousin, right?” said Greer. “Who else is there?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The farmer who was selling the barn at the time?”

  “He was out of town already,” said Charlie.

  Charlie had bought a whole set of new markers for the white board. When she’d brought them home she’d rubbed her hands together with delight and said, “Office supplies!”

  We were now sitting in the living room watching as she drew a complicated diagram.

  When she was finished she said, “Let’s start at the beginning. Hank Smith was murdered when he was pushed down the silo. His family and business associates were fed the plausible tale that he had moved to Europe. It’s likely that the killer was the same person who sent the emails.”

  “So, that’s one mystery,” Greer said.

  “The other one is who the out of towners are. But that one’s pretty obvious,” said Charlie. She turned to the big white board and drew one word in big letters: Witches.

  “So, that mystery is solved, and I’m so glad,” I muttered. “Surely they could just talk to me like normal people.”

  “Like you know any of those,” Paws yowled through the window. “They won’t talk to you because at least one is a dark witch, responsible for taking Mr. Smith’s ghost.”

  That wasn’t exactly ideal. Paws didn’t think I could handle confronting a dark witch, and I didn’t think Paws was wrong.

  “So for now that just leaves the question of who killed Hank Smith,” I mused. “If only we could find his ghost . . .” I refrained from pointing out the obvious: that the two mysteries were in fact intertwined.

  Charlie’s phone binged. She read the text message and nearly fell over.

  “It’s Macy. She’s invited us for tea at her place tomorrow.”

  “But my morning coat is at the dry cleaners,” Greer mock complained. “It’s because of that time I stole a record from the record store, isn’t it? I can’t think what else I might have done to deserve tea at her place.”

  “She has a beautiful house on the lake,” said Charlie dreamily.

  “She’s blond. They can’t be trusted. Besides, there’s the morning coat problem,” persisted Greer.

  “Who are you kidding, your family is richer than Macy’s and Mildred’s combined,” said Charlie.

  Greer shut up and Charlie remembered yet again that Greer did not want to be reminded of such things.

  “Sorry,” said Charlie apologetically, flushing bright red. Greer shrugged and smiled, letting her know it was okay.

  Chapter Twenty

  After a good night’s sleep the three of us piled into Charlie’s car and headed for Macy’s mansion on the lake. We figured her Subaru was less likely than the Beetle to die in Macy’s driveway, a fiasco that would embarrass all of us by forcing us to ask Macy or Mildred for help.

  Macy’s mansion looked like all the other waterfront mansions. A citywide ordinance dictated that all structures around the lake had to have white siding, and Macy’s mansion was no different from the rest in that regard. The shutters were black and the three stories were perfectly nestled amongst the trees to optimize both Macy’s privacy and her view of the water.

  Macy Moody flung open the front door and came bounding out of the house as soon as she saw us. She was dressed in a black pantsuit that had probably cost more than the Beetle. She glanced at Charlie’s Subaru and then quickly away

  “Good morning,” she cooed as we got out of the car.

  “Not even my mother is that excited to see me,” Charlie muttered.

  Mildred followed her business partner at a more leisurely pace, dressed in a white silk blouse and black trousers. I suddenly felt very underdressed in my jeans and sweater.

  “Thanks so much for coming. So sweet of you,” said Macy, extending her hand to each of us in turn. “Come in, please.”

  We followed her inside. The house was incredible, with gold and marble everywhere. I felt like I had just walked into a museum.

  “Don’t mind the mess,” said Macy. “When Mummy is here she likes the place kept tidy, but when I’m here by myself I try to be a little looser with things.”

  “What mess?” Greer whispered to me. I shrugged in confusion.

  “Let’s go to the tea room,” said Macy. Of course she had an entire room dedicated only to drinking tea.

  The tea room was much like the rest of the house. There were lots of old books, an antique rug, gilded chairs, and lush green plants. There was also a skylight that let the sun pour in and big bay windows to make it easier for all of us to appreciate the lake.

  A more perfect room I had never seen. Too bad it was wasted on Macy.

  “How are you all holding up?” she asked, as she and Mildred sat gracefully. “Won’t you sit down? Tea?”

  All three of us nodded as we jumbled together trying to sit down gracefully. Only Charlie managed it.

  Macy smiled politely once we were seated. She poured tea from a blue pot and handed each of us a tiny teacup on a saucer. They were cute, but I couldn’t imagine why anyone would actually try to drink tea out of them. I took my tea in large quantities; these tiny cups were nowhere near big enough.

  “We’re fine,” I said.

  “Of course you are. Sugar?” Macy offered.

  Greer and Charlie nodded, but I drink my tea plain and said so.

  “Milk?”

  “No, thank you,” I said.

  Once we were settled, Macy continued with her barrage of questions. To be fair, between the view and the smell of orange blossom tea, she wasn’t anywhere near as annoying as I’d found her the night at the barn.

  “You mean you haven’t had nightmares since we found the body? I haven’t been able to sleep a wink,” she said dramatically.

  “I’ve slept well,” said Greer.

  “That’s so brave of you. Of course, you must be comforted by friends,” said Macy.

  “We’re very comforting,” said Charlie.

  “Of course you are,” said Macy, taking a sip of her tea.

  “Who do you think killed that poor man?” said Mildred.

  “No idea. We leave that sort of thing to the police,” I said.

  “Everyone is speculating that it was his cousin, but I don’t believe it,” Mildred went on, just as if I hadn’t spoken. “What does Jasper think?”

  “Um, I don’t know,” I said.

  “I thought you two were close,” Mildred murmured, giving Macy what I could only describe as a significant look.

  Macy smiled a little and I squirmed uncomfortably, wondering how long it would be until I could leave.

  When Macy insisted on pouring us each a second cup of tea, I promised myself that after Greer got us out of there I would walk Charger for her every day for a month.

  Turned out, Greer wasn’t going to be able to extricate us. Every time my friend opened her mouth to offer an excuse for us to leave, Mildred interrupted her.
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  “It’s just that Mintwood is such a small town! I can’t stand the idea that anything bad happens here,” sighed Mildred.

  “They’ll get to the bottom of whatever happened. Detective Cutter is very dedicated to his work,” said Charlie.

  “I simply can’t imagine what Jasper is going through right now. He must be so upset,” sighed Macy.

  “He can handle himself. He’s a successful businessman, after all,” said Greer.

  “Yes, but he’s surely never run into a problem like this before. More tea?” said Macy.

  It wasn’t until nearly forty-five minutes had passed that Charlie made a show of looking at her watch.

  “So sorry, but I really must get back to work,” she said. “A reporter’s job is never done.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Charlie pushed her chair back from the tiny tea table and stood up. Greer and I quickly followed suit. I took one last gulp of the delicious tea while Greer grabbed another tiny sandwich.

  “Horrible women,” Charlie muttered as we left. “They were totally fishing about Jasper. Macy clearly has her sights set on him.”

  “Would blindfolding her fix it?” I muttered.

  “Charlie, you aren’t helping,” said Greer.

  Charlie glanced at me and then out the car window.

  “She doesn’t have anything on you,” she said with confidence.

  Except that she did.

  “Also, who are those sandwiches supposed to feed? They’re tiny! They’re big enough for birds if the birds aren’t hungry!”

  “Let’s never go there again,” I said.

  “That was good tea, though,” sighed Greer.

  It was really good tea.

  Jasper had texted me and asked, if it wasn’t too much trouble, might I come by his office before dinner. I’d said yes, because let’s be honest, I would go anywhere Jasper asked me to, even if it was blizzarding outside or my nail polish was chipped.

  Charlie had to finish up some work and Greer thought being early was embarrassing (so she claimed), so I drove over to the barn alone. On the way I had a chance to think about the missing ghosts, and what a dark witch might have done with them. Paws was right, of course; I couldn’t do anything practical about the problem until I learned some spells. But that didn’t prevent me from trying to figure out as much as I could ahead of time.

  The silo murder had put everything on hold, meaning all the stomach butterflies I usually got when I looked at Jasper were held at bay by the fact that someone had died in his barn. With a cloud hanging over both the barn and Deacon’s parents, it was only right to put personal romance aside for now . . . for the greater good. It was just that Jasper had such hot eyes and broad shoulders . . .

  Okay, putting romance aside starting now. Maybe. If I could manage it. Like I said, starting now.

  As I parked the Beetle behind the barn and headed inside, I thought about the fact that Jasper’s job was a lot more straightforward than mine. In Jasper’s line of work he only had to ask simple questions. Should we build something or knock something down? The answer was easy too. Hammer or bulldozer.

  My line of work was far more complicated. It included talking to ghosts, investigating murders, and the occasional dog who was afraid of the dark.

  My office was my living room and Paws’ office was the front porch.

  Every day was bring your ghost cat to work day.

  “Thanks for coming,” said Jasper, meeting me just inside the door with a smile. “I’m half surprised you haven’t tried to sneak in here and examine the crime scene,” he teased.

  “How do you know I haven’t?” I said.

  “We have a camera at the entrance to catch intruders, so I’d have known if you did,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not that bad at breaking into places,” I argued.

  “Sure you’re not,” he laughed.

  As he led me upstairs, I thought about how much I liked following him through the quiet barn. When we got to the office I sat down on the couch that Greer, Charlie, and I had sat on last time we were there. Night had fallen, but the barn felt warm and cozy.

  Instead of settling down behind his desk, Jasper had come to sit on the couch with me, draping one long muscular arm over the back. His fingers were so close to my shoulder that we were nearly touching. I gave up on trying to get rid of the butterflies.

  “I’m sorry about all of this murder business. It’s probably the last thing you needed to deal with right now,” I said.

  He shrugged, his broad shoulders lifting and falling in one motion. “It’s much worse for Mr. Smith. He died.”

  “I can’t believe he disappeared and no one noticed,” I said.

  “It is very strange. The fact that he was sending emails after he went away means that whoever killed him probably had access to his computer,” said Jasper.

  “Are you trying to help me solve the case?” I asked wryly.

  “Are you investigating the case?” he countered, his mint green eyes sharp.

  “You act like I must be,” I replied.

  “The sooner the case is solved the better, as far as I’m concerned. For any number of reasons,” he said.

  “First of all the need to give peace to his family, right?” I asked.

  “Of course,” said Jasper. “But beyond that, there’s the barn’s reputation to consider. It’s going to be hard to recover from this, especially if this place was going to be a wedding venue.”

  “If anyone can do it you can,” I said and then kicked myself for simpering at him. Still, the Wolfs were respected members of the community and Jasper was beloved all around town. I had no doubt he’d pull it off.

  “Is that all you’re worried about?” I asked, trying to change my tone back to the practical. Jasper had been acting like he wanted to say something for a while, so I figured I should give him a chance.

  He cleared his throat and shifted on the couch. I was hyper-aware of his movements, hoping against hope that he’d shift closer to me. When he did, his fingers came within an inch of my shoulder and my heart leapt gleefully.

  Good, at least I wasn’t having trouble concentrating or anything.

  “No, there’s something else, but I wasn’t sure how to phrase it or if it was even any of my business,” he said, looking down.

  “I take it you decided it was your business?” I clarified.

  “Yes, you’re my friend, and if I don’t say this to you, who will?” he wondered.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Lemmi, I don’t know why you want to be an amateur investigator. Maybe you think you’ll make some extra money that way once you solve some cases. I know the farmhouse needs a lot of repairs, but this stuff is dangerous. It hasn’t happened yet, but sooner or later you’re going to run into a murderer and . . .” He looked at me. Our eyes locked, and time stopped.

  “And?” I breathed, desperate for him to continue.

  “I can’t stand to think of you getting hurt. I stayed here late at the barn and installed the camera in case you came back, not because I was worried about security.”

  Jasper was looking at me with such concern that I nearly felt guilty. If he knew I was a witch, maybe he’d feel better. Then again, given my lack of witching abilities, maybe he wouldn’t. Either way, I couldn’t possibly tell him.

  “Can you just promise me that you’ll be careful?” he said.

  He wasn’t asking me to stop investigating, which was good, because I would have had to refuse, however politely. All he was asking was that I exercise a reasonable amount of caution. No one who knew my secret would consider that a bad idea, especially with other witches trying to encroach on my territory. Some might argue that my definition of reasonable was skewed, but those weren’t people I talked to.

  “How do you know the farmhouse needs repairs?” I demanded.

  “I’ve seen it,” said Jasper.

  I chewed on my lower lip, not wanting to look like I was giving
in too easily. I wouldn’t want him to think he could make reasonable demands all the time.

  “I could probably do that,” I conceded. “I am careful, you know. Nothing has happened to me yet.”

  Just wait until the other witches get their claws into me, I thought.

  “Thank you. I’m still going to worry about you, though, if that’s okay,” he said with a smile.

  My heart fluttered and I nodded.

  Jasper hadn’t pushed the question of why I had to investigate these old crimes, and I was content to let him think, at least for now, that it was because I was hoping to make money eventually. Maybe he figured Mr. Smith would give a reward to whoever discovered his cousin’s killer. As for myself, I doubted it, but it was okay if Jasper wanted to believe it.

  “You really don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine. My friends are usually with me and the three of us take care of each other,” I said.

  Jasper’s arm was still draped casually along the back of the sofa, his fingers resting near my shoulder. Knowing that we were totally alone and that he was worried about me made my whole body tingle, and a flood of feelings washed over me. I’d had a crush on this guy since high school. For all those years, I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off him.

  Our eyes met again and a blush raced up my neck and into my cheeks. Jasper’s breathing had gone shallow.

  He leaned forward slightly and was about to say something, hopefully something along the lines of how perfect we were together and how we should never be apart again. But at the crucial moment, something happened.

  All the lights in the barn went out.

  We were sitting in darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “If this is mood lighting, I think it’s little soon,” I said dryly before I could stop myself.

  Jasper coughed. “Not something I did.”

  I shot to my feet, my whole body suddenly filled with fear. This was just like what had happened at the farmhouse a couple of nights ago. The ghosts were protecting the house from witches for now, but the barn was undefended.

  Unfortunately, tonight Jasper was determined to protect me. He grabbed my arm and said, “Stay here. I’ll go check it out. Hide under my desk and don’t come out until I come back.”