Greer’s head snapped up at that suggestion. Her look changed in an instant from bleary-eyed bear to angry tiger.
“We need to get the house organized,” Charlie continued, suddenly sounding nervous.
“The house is spotless,” argued Greer. “The rug has never been so clean. It misses the dirt that used to keep it company as it faces a life alone.”
“I highly doubt that,” Charlie sniffed.
“What is there about the cleaning chart needs to be adjusted?” I said, rubbing my temples and wondering how much I’d have to make from pet sitting to live alone.
Charlie had done a lot of work on the cleaning chart. She had put it in the living room on a large billboard, color-coded for the day of the week, the chore, and the person whose week it was to do that chore. Greer didn’t understand the chart, so she just waited to see what everyone else did and took what was left. Charlie hadn’t noticed, but I felt certain that when she did she’d be furious.
“What if we just did away with the cleaning chart and cleaned when something was dirty?” said Greer.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question,” said Charlie.
“Anything else on your mind, just so we know?” Greer asked.
“I thought we could maybe discuss proper use of the dishwasher,” said Charlie.
Greer stood up and walked out of the room.
“Was it something I said?” Charlie wondered.
All was quiet on the home front the day after we discovered who had murdered Hank Smith. I went searching for Juliet’s ghost, and though I didn’t succeed right away, I was sure I’d find her soon. Hank’s secretary was probably just visiting a neighboring cemetery; all I had to do was figure out which one.
“Have there been any more signs of the Fan Lady?” Greer had asked that morning, the last day of ghost protection on the farmhouse.
I shook my head. “I haven’t seen her since the day I chased her through downtown Mintwood.”
“Maybe she left town and you can be done with it,” mused Charlie.
“That would be nice,” I said. Privately I didn’t think we could get that lucky.
“What about Betty and Possy?” asked Greer.
“I invited them over for tea tonight,” I said. “If we’re going to have witches in the area, we might as well get to know each other.”
“That’ll be interesting,” said Charlie. “Possy didn’t look like she ever wanted to leave the house, let alone go visit someone else’s.”
“I’m sure she just needs a little time to get comfortable with us,” I said.
“Are you hoping they’ll tell you all kinds of things about the world of witches?” Charlie asked.
Yes!
“I hadn’t really thought about that,” I said out loud.
Greer and Charlie exchanged a skeptical look.
“They’re nice and they want to stick around town. They said they wanted to help,” I said defensively. “The least I can do is have them over for tea.”
“That’s where it starts,” Paws yowled. “Where does it end?”
“Drinking the tea,” I told him irritably.
“What about all the other witches? Do you believe that Betty doesn’t know who the Fan Lady is?”
I shook my head. That was one thing Betty was definitely lying about.
“Maybe she’ll tell us about that, too,” I said hopefully.
We continued to discuss the witches and what I might do about them. My friends were convinced that I had to make a statement to whoever had attacked the farmhouse, especially if they showed up tonight at midnight. That kind of thing wouldn’t stand.
We were arguing about whether to find and confront the Fan Lady when a car drove up.
“Is it Betty?” Greer wondered.
“No, not a red car,” said Charlie.
Greer snapped back into her chair like a rubber band released. “That’s Deacon. What’s he doing here?”
“He’s friends with us,” I said. “He stops by sometimes.”
Greer rolled her eyes at me.
The fact that Deacon coming over always surprised Greer was hilarious.
“Maybe he’s coming to thank us for clearing his parents’ name,” mused Charlie.
When Greer didn’t move, Charlie and I went outside to greet Deacon. But Greer followed closely behind.
“Hey,” I called out, smiling and waving.
“Hey,” Deacon said, walking up the driveway. As usual he was impeccably dressed. What was unusual was that he had flowers in his hands.
Out of the corner of my eye I glanced at Greer just in time to see her face flush with happiness.
“How’s it going?” Charlie said.
“Great, now that my parents are cleared,” said Deacon, grinning from ear to ear. He followed us back to the porch and leaned casually against the railing.
“Give them my best,” said Greer.
“I wanted to thank you all for everything you did. If Julia hadn’t admitted that her sister killed Hank Smith, I don’t know what we would have done,” said Deacon.
“All in a day’s work,” said Charlie.
“Her day’s work, not mine,” said Greer.
Deacon laughed so hard he nearly fell off the railing.
“Look, snow,” Charlie cried suddenly. “The first snow of the season!”
We all glanced up at the sky to see beautiful white snowflakes drifting down.
“What do you think is so funny?” Greer demanded of her former boyfriend.
Deacon’s blue eyes met Greer’s brown ones and I actually saw her gasp at the intensity of the look. After a pause in which the world seemed to stop, Deacon jumped off the railing and swooped Greer up to give her a big kiss.
Charlie and I didn’t bother making excuses for leaving the porch No one would have listened to them anyway.
We made our way inside, Charlie carrying the flowers.
Charlie and I were in the living room and Greer and Deacon were still on the porch when the bright red car we’d been expecting drove up our driveway. I half expected Greer to come inside at that point, but instead she and Deacon just let Betty and Possy in and stayed alone together on the porch.
When she opened the door for the visitors, Greer’s cheeks were red and her eyes bright with happiness. It made me think about how much I’d have to love someone to stay outside for so long in this weather: a whole lot.
But then, we had never doubted that Greer loved Deacon. The only question had been what she was going to do about it.
“Thanks for having us. We brought cookies,” Betty said. When no cookies materialized, she glared at Possy, who was standing limply by her side. The shyer sister quickly stepped forward and held out a tin.
“Those smell amazing,” said Charlie, smiling kindly at the shy witch. Possy ducked her head and skirted around behind her sister.
“Please sit down,” I said, waving my hand at the chairs and sofa. “I’ll get tea.”
There was an awkward silence after I came back with the tray and served everyone, then Betty broke the ice by asking, “Who is that handsome man on the porch?”
“Greer’s once and future boyfriend,” said Charlie.
Betty knowingly clucked her tongue and changed the subject. “This tea smells delicious,” she said, sinking deeper into her armchair.
We had barely begun to make small talk when Greer came inside, her nose the color of a red delicious apple. Deacon poked his head in and waved. “I’m late for a dinner meeting, but I’ll see you all soon.”
He smiled at Greer, looking blindingly happy, then skipped down the porch steps and headed to his car. Greer floated through the living room in a happy daze.
“Tea?” I asked her. She was taking off her gloves and hat, a small smile playing over her features. When she didn’t answer, or even appear to have heard me, I tried again. “Tea?”
She put her winter things away in the closet, still oblivious, inspiring Charlie to brace her arms on her
chair and yell, “TEA?”
Greer’s eyes went wide. “Of course. No need to yell.”
Even Possy smiled a little at this exchange.
I poured Greer a cup and she sat down, but we all knew that now wasn’t the time to ask her about Deacon. She would tell us when she was ready, and until then she’d just bask in her make-out glow.
We made lovely conversation with Betty and Possy for a long while. They had moved a lot, and they great stories about their adventures in a number of the places where they’d lived.
It wasn’t until the conversation turned to witches that the problems started.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my blood running cold.
“Witch hunters,” hissed Betty. “There are those out there who believe that witches exist and will stop at nothing to prove it.”
“Okay,” I said. This didn’t really surprise me.
“The most well-known family of witch hunters lives right here,” said Betty dramatically.
Well, knock me over with a feather.
“No way, here in Mintwood?” I said.
“Yes, right here. That’s why so many witches came to defend you. They didn’t want to attack you, they wanted you to help hide,” she explained.
I wasn’t sure that calling all kinds of attention to the fact that the town was overrun by strangers, who also happened to be witches, was a good way to help me hide, but I kept my mouth shut.
“Thanks so much,” I said, trying not to laugh. These witches took everything so seriously.
“What’s so funny?” Possy demanded.
“Nothing,” I said, covering my mouth with my hand.
“Can you tell us more about witching?” Charlie asked, and gave me a significant look. She knew I wanted to know.
“I am having a lot of trouble getting used to the idea that humans are your sidekicks,” said Betty with a glance my way, “but very well.”
She paused as if collecting her thoughts, then said, “There are witches, obviously, and we can see and speak to ghosts, of course some better than others. There are the witch hunters, too, obviously . . . well, just the one family now . . .”
I raised my hand and said, “‘Witch hunters?’”
“Of course,” said Betty, blinking in surprise. “You cannot tell me you haven’t heard of them.”
I shook my head. “Not before you mentioned them a minute ago.”
“Like I said, it’s just the one family,” said Betty.
“What’s the name of this family, anyway?” I said.
“Oh, I’m sure you know them,” Betty waved me off.
I persisted. “Just tell me the name. The family you were talking about that lives in Mintwood. What’s their name?”
“Oh, their name is Wolf.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Just when that bomb was dropped into our tea party, another one came in the form of a sharp rap on the door. I didn’t even have time to react to Betty the witch’s accusation that Jasper the real estate magnate was a witch hunter when yet another visitor showed up at the farmhouse.
When I heard the knock, I had just enough time to register that it had gotten very late.
“Lemmi really is the most popular girl in town,” Charlie muttered, rising to her feet.
It worried me a bit that Paws still hadn’t returned to his box, despite the fact that Greer had long since come inside. He was probably still protesting stubbornly, although what he thought would come of it I had no idea.
Charlie had just reached for the door handle to see who the new visitor was when the lights went out.
“What was that?” Betty asked, sounding terrified.
The living room now illuminated only by a flickering fire, I shot to my feet and spoke sharply to my roommate. “Charlie, get away from the door!”
My order came too late.
Charlie had already swung the door wide, and she was slammed backward before either of us could react. Since I had jumped up and started in her direction, we collided and landed in a painful heap on the floor, Charlie groaning and her elbow jammed into my throat.
Despite the chaos, I tried to get a look at who was outside, but Charlie’s arm was in the way. My hearing wasn’t affected, though, and the next thing I heard was a cackle.
As Charlie and I scrambled to stand up, I noticed in a half daze that Betty, Possy, and Greer were all huddled in the far corner of the living room.
Framed in the doorway stood the formidable Fan Lady.
The woman was still dressed all in black, but something about her appearance had changed. Her skin was paler, her hair was pulled tightly back from her face, and on her head was . . . a witch’s hat.
“You just sell fans, huh?” Greer cried.
The Fan Lady smirked and tapped her wand on her other hand.
From the corner Betty gasped, and Fan Lady’s eyes slid toward the sound. Her malicious smile only grew.
Meanwhile, I managed to reach down and haul Charlie to her feet. She swayed a little, but held firm.
“What do you want?” I yelled, glaring at the visitor.
And still, where was Paws?
“I wanted to see Evenlyn’s granddaughter in action,” the woman said. “I came here with high hopes, but I was sadly disappointed. You couldn’t even succeed at a simple murder investigation, or figure out what all of these witches were doing here. Most of all, you were too simple-minded to grasp, or even suspect, that we aren’t all on the same side.” This last bit was graced with another smirk. In fact, her face seemed to be stuck in that shape.
“So we’re not on the same side?” I asked, not a drop of sincerity in my tone.
“Don’t be sarcastic with me,” she hissed.
“Are you the one who stole the letters?” I said.
“I didn’t really steal the letters,” said the woman.
“What is she doing?” Betty demanded. She was still standing in the corner sheltering her sister, but her face had gone from fearful to angry.
“Does it look like we know?” said Greer.
“It’s not as if we invited her!” cried Charlie.
“Silence,” cried the Fan Lady.
At that moment, the fire flared and went out, leaving us in complete darkness as the cackling started up again.
“I couldn’t steal the letters, because they were my letters. I am Ellie, and you will regret the day you met me.”
Pretty sure that day was today.
So, Bella the Fan Lady was Ellie the witch and letter stealer. It was a lot to take in all at once, but just then the wind started to howl, and within a few short minutes it had blown up to a stronger gale than I had ever seen before. Finally at my breaking point, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wand. I had yet to cast a single spell properly, but this was an emergency. I had to make an attempt, however unpracticed, to save my home and my friends.
I waved the wand in the air, desperately trying to think of a spell that would slow this witch down. All that happened was that the laughing got louder. Betty was yelling up a storm from her corner, hopefully also trying perform a spell.
“How dare you attack me!” Ellie spat.
With a sickening feeling at the bottom of my stomach, I understood a beat late that Ellie wasn’t attacking me, she was attacking Betty. It made sense; Betty, unlike me, was presumably trained and capable. In short, she was the bigger threat.
A spark of magic shot out from the darkness.
“No,” I screamed. I saw another stream of magic, this one lighter in color, hit back at the darkness. Greer was in that corner! I heard a sudden something hit the floor, and my friends were crawling away on their hands and knees.
Frantically, I waved my wand again.
“Run,” I yelled to no one in particular.
Then I stumbled toward the witches, which was really the last direction I should be heading. But on the way I remembered Gary’s suggestion about using the wand by gracefully and gently swishing it, so I hel
d my wand in front of me and moved it only the tiniest bit back and forth, trying to form an image, as I did, of stopping the wind and turning the lights back on.
The next moment, all of the lights flared to life.
They went right back out again, but in that instant I saw the Fan Lady standing there raising her wand.
I also saw Betty, her feet firmly planted and her sleeves rolled up as if she was about to do real work.
“You dare defy me?” cried Ellie, a black spell streaking out of her wand.
Betty dodged, but barely.
Now that I had some confidence that I could manage it, I was determined to get the lights back on for good. After ducking the magic streaking past me between the visiting witches, I again stood my ground, held my wand out, and swished it gently.
This time the lights flared to life as if they were as determined as I was. And this time, instead of flickering and going back out, they stayed on.
Charlie, Greer, and Charger were all gone. But there was also no sign of the Fan Lady.
“She’s running,” cried Greer from the hallway.
It was true. Ellie had ducked through the kitchen door as the lights flared on again. When I started to follow, I caught sight of her heading toward the back door.
“She’s trying to get away!” I yelled. Through the kitchen we ran, determined to catch the evil witch.
But Ellie had been there before, and she knew she could get out the back door. She was just stumbling through it when I realized that Possy had already made her way to the backyard, where she proceeded to jump out and trip Ellie as she tried to get away. Just as the evil witch raised her wand to attack Possy, I performed another spell, this time sending the wind rushing in her direction.
The resulting gale slammed into the Fan Lady and knocked her over a second time, forcing her to lose track of the spell she was about to perform on Possy.
From behind me I heard Betty give a grateful cry.
Don’t be joyful yet, we haven’t gotten rid of her, we’ve only slowed her down, I thought desperately.
Betty and I chased out into the night, Greer and Charlie following closely behind us. As frightened as I knew they were, they weren’t going to shy away from the fight.
Spell by Midnight (Witch of Mintwood Book 3) Page 18