Spell by Midnight (Witch of Mintwood Book 3)

by Addison Creek

  “I know it’s serious,” said the cat. “Ellie is a part of your grandmother’s past. She’s not a part of our present,” he argued.

  “Those missing letters would beg to differ,” I said.

  When Paws didn’t respond, I stood up.

  “Look,” I said, “there’s a fight coming, you said so yourself. And I’m in the middle of it because I’m the one who’s the Witch of Mintwood. I’d be a lot better off in said fight if I had all the information,” I said.

  “What if you don’t like what you hear?” asked Paws.

  “I don’t really have a choice.”

  Nothing says good morning like having to go take care of a bunch of indifferent cats. I woke up bright and early to go over to the Ivy place and check on Nelly, Noel, and Neely. The cats had been getting along fine without their mistress, and they continued to be entirely unimpressed by my presence.

  It was early enough so that Charlie was just getting up for work, and of course there was no sign of Greer yet. She viewed getting up before the sun was high in the sky as a personal failure.

  I glanced at the Mintwood Gazette and the Chronicle and saw that Hansen Gregory’s article detailing his interview with Horace Smith had come out. It definitely made me want to be out of the house before Charlie read it.

  Hansen explained how Horace had been devastated by the loss of his cousin, regretted not looking for him, and would miss him forever. According to Hansen, Horace was glad Hank’s body had been found, because now he could have a proper burial. Horace was just as confused as everyone else about how Hank could have died without anyone realizing it or finding his body, and on top of all that, he was very surprised that his cousin’s death had been ruled a murder.

  “Someone went to a lot of trouble to kill him and then cover it up. They returned the car to his house and packed up some of his things to make it look like he had left on a trip. Who would do that?” That was the question on everyone’s lips, according to Hansen.

  The article continued with more speculation from various citizens, but I didn’t finish it. I had to go cat-sitting. As soon as I got to the Ivy place, I knew that something was terribly wrong.

  The house looked the same as it had every other time I’d come to take care of Nellie, Noel, and the putz, but there was something subtly different about it; it just felt darker and even more lonely than usual. It didn’t take me long to realize that none of the cats were around, and that was unheard of.

  This was the first time I had come by and not found Neely perched in her tree, staring out at me with her baleful expression. What was almost as surprising was that neither of the other cats was anywhere in sight. Usually they came running when they heard the car.

  Mindful of my promise to Jasper to be more careful, I texted Charlie and asked her to stop by on her way to work to keep me company. It wasn’t that I was afraid to go in search of the cats on my own, nope, not at all. Part of me knew there might be no time to waste, but a more prudent voice insisted that I wait for my friend.

  I walked back over to the Beetle, watching the thick gray clouds mass and move across the sky, looking like they were bringing a storm behind them. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long for Charlie to arrive. As a bonus, Greer was with her, albeit looking very grumpy.

  “Where are the cats?” Greer asked, stepping out of the car and looking around.

  Charlie did the same, looking troubled.

  I shrugged. “The place is so deserted you’d think I brought a dog with me. And by the way, what are you doing here?” I said to Greer.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I want to ask Deacon about Mildred, but I don’t have the guts,” she said.

  “I doubt he’s thinking about dating at a time like this,” said Charlie.

  “Men are always thinking about dating,” said Greer.

  “Not Hansen Gregory,” said Charlie. “He’s entirely dedicated to his work.”

  Charlie marched toward the house as Greer and I exchanged glances. Out of the side of her mouth Greer said, “Do you think she knows she just proved my point?”

  “It’s getting awfully dark for morning,” Charlie called over her shoulder.

  Her words distracted us from gossiping about her, and we glanced up at the looming clouds. Five minutes ago they had looked gray and gathering, now they were nearly black.

  “Let’s find the cats and get out of here,” said Greer. “If they understood threats I’d tell them to come out of hiding or I’ll bring Charger around. He’d love them, but I don’t think they’d return the favor.”

  We all knew of instances where a friendly dog had been rebuffed by the high and mighty cat. There were also times when they all got along swimmingly, but that usually took more patience than we had available for this trio.

  “I’m afraid they’re hiding from whatever is causing that,” I said, pointing toward the black sky.

  “Witches. I thought you were planning on confronting them,” said Charlie.

  “I’ve been a little busy investigating the murder, but now I’m going to find the next witch I see and give her a talking-to,” I promised.

  “A talking-to huh? Very intimidating,” said Greer.

  The three of us walked around calling the cats. I wasn’t expecting Neely to show her terrified face, but I was starting to worry about the other two.

  Like most old houses around Mintwood, the Ivy place had a front porch, and eventually it occurred to me to crouch down and peer underneath it. The wind had started to whip and blow my hair, and I wanted to find the cats and get them inside without any more delay. Ms. Ivy had said that I could do that in an emergency, and the weather building up in that darkening sky surely qualified.

  “Found them,” I cried out. Three pairs of yellow eyes stared out at me, unblinking, from under the porch.

  The cats were all there, huddled together for warmth. When they spotted me, Noel and Nelly meowed their displeasure, stretched, and came cautiously out. Just as I was about to grab them, Charlie and Greer came running from opposite sides of the house.

  “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think I saw the red car driving over there through the trees,” said Charlie.

  “Was it coming this way?” I gasped.

  “It was driving past, but there’s really nowhere else for it to go,” said Charlie.

  About a mile down the road beyond Ms. Ivy’s place was one more house, but it had been deserted for a couple of years. It was on the market, but the owners, a couple by the name of Dresden, hadn’t yet been able to sell it.

  Realization crystallized in my mind. “That must be where at least some of the witches are staying,” I said.

  “Well, at least now we know, and it will make it easier to pay them a visit after we get these ridiculous animals inside,” said Greer.

  “Can someone take Noel?” I said. The cat was purring like a freight train as I handed her to Charlie.

  Greer got Nelly, who was also very happy to be taken out of the wind and the dark weather.

  That left me with Neely.

  Steeling myself, I looked back under the porch.

  One pair of yellow eyes glared back at me.

  Why move when you could stay still?

  “You know, I’m here to help you. I just want to get you inside, then you can go hide under a duster to your heart’s content. You might want to eat eventually, and water is good, too,” I said. “But no pressure.”

  Unblinking yellow eyes stared out at me.

  “Couldn’t respond to logic, could you?” I said.

  It felt entirely normal to be having a conversation with this cat in this moment, just for the record.

  “Lemmi, come inside. We’ll leave the door open and hope she follows you,” Charlie yelled.

  “If you could see the look she’s giving me right now, you’d be very skeptical about whether she was going to follow me,” I yelled back.

  Still, Charlie had a point. I pushed myself off my hands and knees and stood, checking for at leas
t the tenth time to make sure I still had my wand.

  Ability with spells or no, it looked like I was heading for a witch fight.

  Ms. Ivy’s house was organized clutter. The woman had stacks of books, tea sets, and old magazines, plus beautiful antique rugs scattered everywhere.

  “If I lived in this house you couldn’t pay me to let a cat inside,” said Charlie.

  “Charger would love it,” said Greer.

  “You’re ridiculous,” said Charlie.

  I propped the front door open, and wind and dry leaves rushed inside. I was nervous and jittery, and I kept glancing out the windows, expecting to see a witch walking toward the house. They were coming after me on a near daily basis now, so why should today be any different?

  This had to stop.

  “Let’s get them food and water and get out of here,” I said.

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” said Charlie.

  We were just about ready to leave when a dark shape about a foot off the ground came careening through the front door.

  “There goes the third one,” Greer yelled triumphantly.

  “At least she’s inside and safe. I can’t afford to lose any business,” I said, grinning.

  Getting to the Beetle turned out to be easier said than done. The wind was blowing so hard it made us stagger sideways. I could barely keep my eyes open against the pressing air. I wasn’t sure we were going to make it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  This was not the one-of-a-kind of blow-dry I wanted, but eventually, we made it to the car, got inside, and slammed the doors.

  “I’ll leave my car here for now,” said Charlie. “We can come back for it.”

  “Where to?” asked Greer, breathing hard.

  “Looks like we should pay a visit to the neighbors,” I said.

  “You mean the ones you didn’t remember Ms. Ivy had?” said Greer.

  “Yes, those exactly,” I said.

  I knew that as we drove to a place where we expected to find witches, my friends wanted to ask me how I was doing with spells and magic, but politeness won out and they didn’t say a word. Good thing, because after my scant couple of lessons I still felt like an idiot just holding my wand, let alone using it.

  We were approaching the deserted old house when the rain started pounding down. It was no gentle misting, either; it was coming down so hard it sounded like hail on the roof of the car.

  “This is miserable,” cried Charlie. “I didn’t bring any rain gear. I especially didn’t bring any snow gear.”

  Through the dim light, I could see a red car parked in front of the old Dresden house.

  Since I knew where I was going, I hadn’t bothered to turn my lights on. I had a dim hope that our approach might not be noticed until we could figure out what to do next.

  “You should park close to the house. Let’s see if we can sneak up on them,” said Greer conspiratorially.

  “If she doesn’t park close to the house we’ll be wet for a lifetime,” moaned Charlie.

  “Pretty sure a little bit of water is the least of our worries at this point,” said Greer.

  I left the car on the side of the road right before the driveway. We were about forty feet from the house when we got out of the Beetle, and I braced myself, expecting to be knocked over by the raging storm.

  “Where’d the storm go?” Charlie asked, looking around in wonder.

  We glanced all around us. My car was still getting covered in large, thick, drops of rain, but where we were standing, a mere two feet away, there was no precipitation and no wind at all.

  “If storms are following you around, Lemmi, I’m afraid we’re going to have to spend less time together,” said Greer.

  “End of the line for our friendship,” Charlie cooed gleefully.

  “Someone put a spell around Ms. Ivy’s house to drive us away,” I growled. “Come on, I want to talk to whoever did it.”

  We crept through trees that came so close to the house they nearly brushed the windows. At the moment I was grateful for the cover they provided.

  The house had clearly fallen into disrepair during the years when it had been vacant. There was old furniture scattered out front that no one had ever come to collect, and the shutters dangled off the windows.

  “This place is creepy. Why would someone stay here?” Charlie wondered.

  “Yeah, who in their right mind would stay in a falling-down, out of the way old farmhouse?” said Greer sarcastically.

  “You know what I mean,” grumbled Charlie.

  “Probably because the Mintwood Inn is full,” pondered Greer.

  “With whom?” wondered Charlie.

  “Witches,” I said at the same time as Greer.

  Though there was indeed a bright red car with tinted windows parked in the driveway, at first it didn’t look like there was anyone inside the house.

  “Chimney,” Greer whispered.

  Sure enough, billows of smoke were piping merrily out of the chimney. “It’s November,” murmured Charlie, “I guess it’s acceptable for them to have the fire going.”

  “I’d like to be sitting in front of a fire right now,” said Greer, shivering despite the heavy coat she was wearing.

  “Come on, let’s see if anyone’s home,” I said. There was a good chance the answer was yes, if the car and the fire were anything to go by.

  “First let’s try to find somebody without giving ourselves away. If that doesn’t work, let’s just knock,” said Charlie.

  “Okay, if you insist on having a reasonable plan,” said Greer.

  Charlie and Greer went around the left side of the house, while I made my way to the right. This required me to dash across the driveway in front of the red car.

  I moved quickly and tried to stay low to the ground, hoping that no one was looking out the window at that very moment. When I made it to the far side of the house with no sign of a response, I continued to creep around the corner. Charlie and Greer were now out of sight.

  Charlie’s suggestion that we just knock on the front door if we didn’t see anyone through the windows was daring, but I didn’t think she was wrong. It wasn’t as if we were going to break in and attack a bunch of witches.

  Curtains were pulled over all the windows, making it hard to see inside. But I found a slight crack in one window that just barely let me peer through to the interior of the house.

  At first I didn’t see anything, but then I picked out a smallish woman sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. She looked a little familiar, and I quickly placed her as one of the many strange women I’d seen at the Twinkle Costume Shop the other day.

  Someone was home.

  Now what?

  I was spared having to figure out my next step when something pressed against my spine.

  I froze.

  “Tsk. Don’t even have your wand drawn? Some witch you are,” said a woman’s voice.

  I spun around and made a grab for my wand, but suddenly it was very hard to move. Unlike the night at the farmhouse when I’d been attacked by pink fluff, I was now moving through Jell-O.

  My hand was still going for my pocket, but very, very slowly. When I managed to turn and face the woman who had just performed a spell on me, I was surprised to find that instead of looking menacing or angry, she looked fascinated.

  “I’ve never seen someone who was able to resist that spell when I had a good shot at ‘em,” she said, shaking a massive fist.

  I tried to speak, but I couldn’t.

  “Sorry about that. You don’t seem to know what to do with your magic, and I didn’t want you attacking me,” she said.

  I heard footsteps behind me and tried to turn around and tell Charlie and Greer to run, but I still couldn’t move any part of my body, including my mouth. Paws would have been pleased with the development.

  “Oh, all right, your friends look petrified, so I’ll release you. Just don’t try to perform any spells,” warned the woman.

  Th
e next instant I could move normally again, and the first thing I did was to spin around and look at my friends.

  “It’s okay, I think,” I reassured them.

  I glanced at the witch, asking a silent question, and she shrugged. “I’m not gonna kill you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “As a matter of fact I was,” said Charlie, marching up to us.

  “You must be the reporter,” said the woman. “I’m Betty. I’m staying here with my sister Possy.”

  “Charlie. Care to tell me why you’re performing magic on my friend?” she said.

  “Witches don’t usually feel the need to justify themselves to humans,” Betty sniffed.

  “How often do witches attack each other?” asked Greer. “I’m Greer, by the way. Bartender, enforcer, special detective, no big deal.”

  “Witches attack each other often. Most witches are not so foolish as to leave themselves vulnerable. Your friend here seems to be in a class of her own,” said Betty.

  “I’ve always thought so,” confirmed Charlie.

  Just then the back door opened and the woman I had seen sitting at the table stuck her head out. Her eyes went wide when she saw us, and she scurried back into the house.

  “We’d better get inside before my sister does something foolish,” said Betty, marching past us toward the back door.

  Uncertain but determined to find out what was going on, the three of us followed her. It wasn’t as if we really had a choice.

  “This is my sister Possy,” said Betty, formally introducing the quiet woman.

  Possy raced over to the kitchen sink and started searching frantically through a drawer. I had no idea what she was looking for, but she stopped short when Betty started talking again.

  “This is Lemmi, the new Witch of Mintwood, and these are her human sidekicks,” Betty said, rolling her eyes. The witch introduced my friends with such disdain that I wondered when she had last hung out with an actual, ordinary human.

  After the introductions, Possy started to make tea and Betty invited us to join her in the living room while we waited. It appeared that disdain for humans notwithstanding, these witches had a love of tea in common with my human friends.

  The sisters were nothing alike. In fact, they were so different they made me think of the Smith cousins. Betty was short and very large, reminding me a bit of Mrs. Barnett, while Possy was smaller and tended to shrink away from you when you talked. It wasn’t hard to figure out who was running this operation.