The Case of the Sinister Spirit (Jane Gallows Witch Private Investigator Book 1)

by Leighann Dobbs

  “I’m not so sure about that.” I really wasn’t in the market to have my heart broken again, and besides, when it came to recommending potential dates, my cousins were not to be trusted. We’d spent a lifetime pulling pranks on each other in the love-interest department, like fixing each other up with duds or encouraging guys that one knew the other wanted to dump. Come to think of it, that was how I’d ended up with Mitch. He’d been a blind date they thought wouldn’t take. Turned out they’d been right. Too bad it had taken me so long to realize it.

  “She’ll do it in her own time,” Liz added. “Don’t pressure her.”

  Tess made a face at Liz, and I smiled. My cousin’s concern for me warmed my heart.

  “I got a new client today,” I said, changing the subject from my love life.

  “Oh? Can we help?” Tess asked. I never used magic on any of my jobs unless it was to expedite the gathering of information. It was the witches’ oath to not interfere with the outcome of the affairs of mortals, for one. And for another, I wanted to prove I could investigate better than anyone else. Especially Mitch. And besides, I didn’t need magic. I was a pretty good investigator without it. I’d given Bud my word not to tell anyone about his problem, but my cousins didn’t count.

  “Don’t tell anyone, but Bud Saunders says he has a ghost in his barn. Wants me to get rid of it.” I pulled out the surprise chocolate and ate it. It was deliciously creamy, with a tinge of raspberry.

  Liz’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, the old Dunbuddy place.”

  “You know about it?”

  “Yeah. Mary Dunbuddy was hanged as a witch in the 1600s. They say she bilked people out of their money and buried it on her property.”

  Liz would know. She ran the tours in Hallows Crossing, taking them through all the witch houses and the sites of the hangings and the stonings.

  “But the Dunbuddy place isn’t on my tour because there’s never been any reporting of a ghost before.”

  “Huh, so a new apparition. Odd it would show up now.”

  Tess slipped behind the counter and perused the shelves, pulling out a small white jar and handing it to me. “Take this. It’s a new mixture I have for ghost vanishing cream. Put it on the doors and maybe that’ll get rid of her. If she’s not an old ghost, it should be easy to get rid of her.”

  I opened the jar and immediately gagged. It smelled like rotten eggs. “This would get rid of anyone.”

  Tess giggled. “I did use it on a guy I dated that wouldn’t stop stalking me last week.”

  I put the cover back on quickly. “So the legend is true then? There is a treasure buried there?” I asked.

  Liz shrugged. “That’s just the legend. I doubt it. You know how things were back then. If someone did something someone else didn’t like, people would just accuse them of witchcraft and let the mass hysteria get rid of them.”

  I nodded. Much like how Mrs. Newman was trying to accuse my family.

  “But in reality, the person accused never usually did anything. That was probably the case with Mary Dunbuddy. Someone just wanted her out of the way. I doubt there’s a treasure buried there.” Liz pursed her lips. “Though there have been a couple of treasure hunters in town asking about the legend. But of course, I didn’t tell them where the property was. You’d have to go back pretty far in the town records to find it. It’s changed hands a few times.”

  I looked down at the jar of cream in my hand. If Mary Dunbuddy had buried a treasure there, her ghost probably wasn’t going to be scared off with a little vanishing cream. And if treasure hunters were seeking that treasure, that made the job more complicated.

  “If you need any help, let us know,” Tess offered. She must have also sensed that the job could get complicated and wanted to make sure I didn’t get hurt. That was so like them. Ever since we were kids and I’d flunked out of witch school, they’d been protecting me. They had the best intentions, but I didn’t need protecting.

  I slipped the cream into my bag. “No, I think I’ll be fine. I’ll just pop over there tonight and check out the barn. If it gets sketchy, I’ll let you guys know,” I said.

  I exited the shop and headed toward home. I had a few hours to kill before dark, and now was a perfect time to find out what was up with Aunt Glad and all those brooms.

  Chapter Three

  “Alacazam… alacazooo!”

  Clatter! Clang!

  “Swishadoo!”

  Clunk.

  I cautiously made my way through the gothic furnishings in the family mansion toward the strange noises. Dark, deeply carved mahogany, red velvet, and chandeliers with cobwebs hanging from the prisms were everywhere. Some would have said the decor was outdated, but I was used to it. I’d lived here almost my whole life.

  You might think it’s a little odd that a grown woman of thirty-five still lives at home with her extended family, but technically I didn’t live with my extended family. The mansion was where my aunts and uncles lived. I lived in the caretakers cottage. So in theory, I had my own place. It was much nicer, too, not stuffed with these clunky, overbearing antiques. I’d needed a place after the breakup, and since my parents were traveling around Europe, my great-aunts and -uncles needed looking after. It worked for us.

  Clatter!

  That had come from the patio. I veered in that direction.

  The soft pitter-patter of feet beside me announced Jinx’s arrival. How he’d gotten here from my office downtown I had no idea. Apparently he wasn’t as lazy as he let on.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “I’m checking out the strange noises on the patio.”

  “My food bowl’s empty.”

  “Jinx, there could be an intruder. Is your food bowl all you can think about?”

  “Pretty much.” Jinx turned and headed toward the kitchen. “Can you fill it up when you’re done?”

  “Sure.”

  Out on the patio, Aunt Glad stood next to the pool, arms raised in front of her, brooms littering the cement at her feet. Her tight gray curls bounced like springs as she homed in on one of the brooms—a yellow plastic number—and wiggled her fingers at it.

  “Ala-ka-zoo!”

  The broom didn’t budge.

  “Aunt Glad, what are you doing?”

  She turned to me, a sour expression on her face. “These brooms.” She gestured wildly to the brooms scattered around. “They’re lemons, all of them.”

  “But why do you have so many?”

  “Old Bessie crapped out.” She pointed to a battered wooden broom lying on one of the chaise lounges. “I’m trying out some newer models. But none of them seem to work.” She turned and looked at me, a flicker of concern in her eye. “Least ways, I think it’s the brooms.”

  “I’m sure it is.” I looked doubtfully at the brooms. It wasn’t the brooms so much that had the magic, it was the driver. But Aunt Glad knew that.

  “Well, I hope so. You know how important it is to be able to fly the broom. And my brooming license is coming up for renewal. The notice with my test time should be coming any day now. What happens if I flunk the test? I won’t be able to fly, and you know a witch is nothing without her broom...”

  Her words trailed off, and she looked at me wide-eyed. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. I mean, witches are fine without brooms. A broom isn’t everything, you know.”

  My heart melted at her sympathetic concern. I’d never gotten as far as learning how to fly a broom in witch school. It didn’t bother me though. Who wanted to fly around on a broom anyway? I had a car. It was faster, and it didn’t mess up your hair as much.

  I spotted movement over by the ten-foot-tall gothic fence that edged our property. “Why don’t you go in the house, Auntie? I’ll clean up out here.”

  Glad went toward the house, but instead of cleaning up, I headed toward the fence skirting the edge of the property. I had a suspicion as to what was going on out there.

  I edged my way between some trees, taking a circuitous route toward where I’d seen
the movement and coming in from behind. Just as I suspected, it was our next-door neighbor, Agnes Newman. She was crouched at the fence, binoculars in hand, a sprig of branches sticking out from the top of her beehive hairdo.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  She jumped and whirled around to look at me. “I know there’s some shenanigans going on in there. Your family is unnatural. There is something odd going on here.”

  “That’s not true. My family is just a normal, red-blooded American family.”

  “Really? Then what was your aunt doing with those brooms?”

  “She’s testing them out for the manufacturers to see which ones work best on concrete pool patios.” Sometimes I surprised myself with how fast I could come up with these lies.

  Mrs. Newman looked skeptical. “It didn’t look like that to me.”

  I folded my arms over my chest, wishing I had some chocolates so I could cast a forget-about-it spell or maybe even a don’t-come-around-here-no-more spell. But I didn’t have any.

  “You know you’re trespassing. Your property line is over there.” I pointed toward the woods. You could barely see the Newmans’ house from where I was standing. It was another large estate that was set off in the distance. Even though we were standing at our fence, our property went well into the woods.

  “You don’t want me to call Sheriff O’Hara, do you?” I said. I avoided the sheriff as much as I could, but Mrs. Newman didn’t know that.

  “Well I never!” She jumped up and waddled off toward her house, clutching the binoculars to her chest. I noticed the well-worn trail that she took through the woods. This wasn’t the first time Mrs. Newman had been spying through the fence. Maybe we should get dogs and let them patrol the perimeter.

  I turned and went back into the house. In the kitchen, Aunt Wanda was at the sink, washing vegetables. Her long silvery hair gleamed in the fading sunlight.

  “I don’t know why you don’t just use witchcraft on those vegetables,” Glad said from her seat at the kitchen table.

  “I like cooking.” Wanda smiled at me. “Hey, Jane, are you coming for dinner?”

  “I have to go meet with a client, but I can come back.”

  I joined her at the sink and helped her wash some carrots. The window above the sink looked out over the garden, where I could see Aunt Wanda’s jack-o-lantern patch was in full bloom. As I watched, one of the jack-o-lanterns turned around and winked its lighted eye at me. It was midsummer, too early for normal pumpkins, but Aunt Wanda had special fertilizer. She even sold it at the farmer’s market sometimes. And the jack-o-lanterns that grew in her garden all year long came in handy for all the town festivals.

  “Was that Mrs. Newman I saw you talking to?” Wanda asked.

  “Yep. She was spying.”

  “You want me to turn her into a toad?” Glad asked.

  Wanda shook her head. “No. That would bring too many questions. We have enough of those already.”

  We were usually able to explain away all the odd behavior, clothing, and accessories by saying it was for my Uncle Cosmo’s Halloween supply business. Skeletons, caskets, witches’ hats, cauldrons, and even the bats were all part of the inventory. It worked out pretty well to satisfy people’s curiosity. Well, other than Mrs. Newman’s.

  Aunt Wanda finished with the vegetables and went over to the cutting board. “We’re having roast beef tonight. Henry and Lucretia are bringing a salad. Of course, we won’t be eating till after the sun sets.”

  Henry and Lucretia, my aunt and uncle, lived in the mausoleum near the old family cemetery up on the hill. Yep, they were vampires and thus didn’t come out during the daylight hours. Now you might think living in a mausoleum would be dirty, dusty, and uncomfortable with those cement crypts, but they had it fixed up pretty nice. Big-screen TV, comfortable chairs, and the caskets were lined with the softest down comforters. It almost looked like a little apartment—well, except for the ornate metal candelabras they used for lighting and the stone crypts in the middle of the room.

  “Did you people forget about me?” Jinx cast angry glances at his food bowl.

  I went to the cupboard and pulled out a bag of dry cat food.

  “Not that crap. I want the canned stuff with the gravy.”

  “You only get that for treats,” I said. “This stuff is healthier for you. You’re getting a little fat.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  I glanced down at myself. I wasn’t getting fat, was I? While I wasn’t stick thin like my cousins, my stomach was still flat, and my hips still fit into my size tens.

  I poured the kibble into the bowl. “Take it or leave it.”

  Schreeech!

  We whipped around to see our housekeeper, Zelda, out in the hallway kicking the vacuum and unleashing a string of curse words in some foreign language.

  The vacuum cleaner popped open, and dust and animal hair spilled out all over the floor.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Aunt Wanda asked.

  “Ugh, this damn thing eez on the fritz. Squeals like a greased pig at the county fair then stops working.”

  Uncle Cosmo peered over the banister at the vacuum. His salt-and-pepper hair made him look distinguished, but the large screwdriver he held and the dirty T-shirt he wore ruined the effect. “Let me take a look. I heard that squeal upstairs.”

  He unscrewed the back of the vacuum cleaner. “Yep, here’s the problem. This belt—it’s wearing on one side and rubbing against the side of the vacuum. I’ll just order a belt, and we’ll be good to go.”

  Zelda put her hands on her hips and looked at the mess. “Well, how long eez that going to take?”

  “I’ll order it on Wal-azon. It’ll be here in two days. I have primo shipping.”

  “Fine. What am I going to do about this mess in the meantime?”

  “We have twenty brooms out on the patio. Maybe you could use one of those,” Aunt Wanda said.

  I heard a hissing noise and turned to see Jinx jerking his head toward the front door. “Come on, let’s blow this popsicle stand. I want to check out that barn with you.”

  “You’re coming with me?”

  “Yeah, you might need some help, right?”

  I didn’t need any help, but I had to admit, even though Jinx was snarky and sarcastic, I enjoyed his company. I grabbed my bag and headed toward the front door.

  “Don’t be late for dinner. We’re having it at eight sharp!” Aunt Wanda’s voice drifted out the door after me.

  Chapter Four

  “You think there’s any mice in this barn?” Jinx licked his lips as he eyed the large structure at the edge of Bud’s property.

  “Is that the only reason you came? For mice?” I’d wondered why he wanted to accompany me on the job. He wasn’t usually this helpful.

  Jinx managed to look offended. “Of course not. I want to help you. Really.” He glanced back at the house, where we’d just been knocking on the door for a good ten minutes. “So where do you think the old guy is?”

  Good question. He hadn’t answered the door even though his truck was in the driveway. He’d said he’d be home all afternoon, but maybe he’d had to go out for something. I hoped it wasn’t some sort of an emergency. Maybe he’d forgotten I was coming. But I was here now, and I could at least check out the barn and see if I could feel a ghostly presence.

  I turned my attention to the barn, all dark and looming in the distance. “Maybe he’s in the barn.”

  “Yeah, let’s check that out.” Jinx didn’t wait for me. He trotted over then turned when he got to the door. “You coming or what?”

  His face wasn’t nearly as grumpy looking as usual. His sleek black fur gleamed in the moonlight, and the white markings on his upper lips that resembled a mustache twitched with the anticipation of fresh mice.

  The barn door was edged about six inches open, revealing a black interior. Could ghosts open doors? I doubted that Bud kept the barn open. Maybe he was inside, though why would he be inside with
the lights off?

  I hesitated at the doorway.

  “What are you, afraid?” Jinx taunted.

  It wasn’t so much that I was afraid, it was just that it was dark. I couldn’t see and didn’t want to trip over anything. Jinx, on the other hand, had excellent night vision and proceeded to run ahead inside. So much for wanting to help me out.

  I stepped in. It was quiet other than the sound of Jinx’s footsteps scurrying around in the corner. A mousey squeal of surprise was cut off abruptly with the sound of chomping and then a loud belch. Gross.

  “Bud, you in here?”

  Crickets answered. I stood still, inhaling the smell of dry hay and old wood and something else. I wasn’t sure what the something else was. Maybe the ghost. If Bud wasn’t here, I could at least try to conjure it and find out what I could do to get rid of it. Maybe I could even use the vanishing cream. If this ghost was newly manifesting, his or her skills would be minimal, and the cream would probably do the trick.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for the familiar tingle signifying an otherworldly presence to come, but nothing did. Liz had said there hadn’t been any ghost sightings up here, but if the ghost was new to manifesting, the signal could be very weak. But if it was Mary, what had taken her so long? She’d been dead for centuries. What had she been doing all this time?

  “Mary, are you in here? I can help you.”

  “I don’t think she’s here.” Jinx’s voice boomed from my left, scaring the crap out of me.

  I stepped farther inside and pulled the ghost vanishing cream out of my purse. It would be pretty sweet to vanquish the ghost tonight and collect a modest fee from Bud. Heck, I wouldn’t even charge much, and I’d let Bud work out an easy payment plan. It was only one night’s work. The best part was that it was one night’s work that Mitch wouldn’t get. That was better than money.

  I didn’t know if the barn was wired with electricity, but I felt along the wall for some sort of switch anyway. “I need a light on in here.” Not being able to see in the dark was going to be detrimental to smearing cream all over the place.