Witch Way to Mintwood (Witch of Mintwood Book 1)

Home > Fantasy > Witch Way to Mintwood (Witch of Mintwood Book 1) > Page 7
Witch Way to Mintwood (Witch of Mintwood Book 1) Page 7

by Addison Creek


  “Paws might be doing something evil,” I pointed out, and my grandmother laughed. She had the best laugh. It rang out and spread across the room like bells tolling.

  A meow joined in telling me that Paws had heard my little comment, and now I was in trouble.

  “Sorry Paws, but you know it’s true,” I called out.

  That was my grandmother. She loved me, but she didn’t want to teach me anything. She thought it was better if she didn’t.

  Now, as I stood wishing I had made her explain a little more, I collected myself. I was going into this mayor’s office and I was going to answer the questions honestly and truthfully, so long as ghosts, witches, my grandmother . . . none of the above were mentioned.

  So, mostly truthfully. Here went nothing.

  Chapter Nine

  The town hall was a brick building in the center of downtown, with white trim and gold lettering. There were bushes out front and perfectly cut grass flanking either side of the stone steps.

  Detective Cutter was waiting for me at the top of the steps, a light breeze gently blowing his gray hair. “Morning,” he said. “Good of you to come.” But he said it in such a way as to imply that I was late, or that he was somehow doing me a favor by my coming.

  His demeanor was very different from what it had been at Gracie’s house the night before; today he was colder and more official. He led me straight to Mayor Clabberd’s office, nodding at the mayor’s secretary as we passed. She was a thin woman with short gray hair, glasses, and a no-nonsense expression.

  “He’s waiting for you, Detective Cutter,” she said with a small smile, only sparing a sniff for me.

  This was going to be fun.

  I had never set foot in the town hall before, let alone the mayor’s office. All the business I had ever had to do, like registering my car, my grandmother insisted I do by mail. The building was old brick, with high ceilings and lots of crown molding. Not to my taste, but still nice. Now that I was inside the stately old structure, I didn’t see what the fuss was about. Maybe all my grandmother had meant was that I shouldn’t come here at night, because if I did there’d be ghosts galore.

  Mayor Clabberd, as I now remembered, was Gracie Coswell’s uncle. He was also a career mayor, with a red face, a bowl belly, and a white top hat. He’d as soon shoot you as look at you, which was just how the town liked him.

  I suddenly wished my grandma was there and wondered how I had gotten myself into this mess.

  The mayor’s office was plush, but not too plush. His furniture was nice, but for the most part not new. He wouldn’t want anyone asking questions as to why a small town mayor had all cherry furniture. He had sensible oak. The only sign that the man liked his surroundings to be more luxurious was on the walls. There was a massive painting of him hunting, holding a gun across his chest, dressed in green colors and beaming under a brimmed hat. The other pictures in their gold frames were of landscapes, and there was also a mounted deer head, beneath which was a display mantelpiece showcasing a strange array of black figurines.

  “Thanks for coming.” The mayor extended his beefy hand, and I took it and tried not to make a face. His sweaty palms were legendary. “I’m so glad I could fit you into my busy schedule.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Anything to help.”

  The mayor made a face.

  Detective Cutter had followed me in and was now standing behind me, just out of my view. He closed the door, and the mayor motioned me to sit down.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us about Gracie’s disappearance?” the mayor asked. “Tragic situation. I’m sure she’s fine, but in order to be thorough we really need every detail.”

  I shook my head. “Like I told Detective Cutter, I didn’t know she had disappeared. I was just stopping by to discuss the barn protest I’m working on. She can see the barn from her house, so I thought she might object to having the view change.”

  “Of course you did,” said the mayor, as if he hadn’t listened to what I’d said at all.

  I was starting to think they hadn’t invited me in to thank me after all, but rather to grill or chastise me. I should have known.

  “But that was your theory, wasn’t it? That she was missing?” he said.

  “She wasn’t there, but her car was,” I said. This was definitely starting to feel like an interrogation.

  “We’re trying to get all the pertinent information. A girl is missing, you understand. Now, did you see anyone at the house?” the mayor continued.

  This I could answer honestly, and in no way was I going to let him know about the tire tracks I had found. They could do their own police work.

  “No,” I said. “That’s really all I know, and if you don’t mind I really should be going.” I stood up, and both the mayor and Detective Cutter rose as well. For a split second I thought they might not let me leave the room, but I clutched my bag to my shoulder as if it was a foregone conclusion that I could go, and nodded what I hoped was a polite goodbye.

  “You’ll be sure to let me know if you think of anything else?” the mayor said.

  “Sure,” I said. No way, I thought. Other people always interfered in ghost investigations. It was a long-held truth that all witches knew.

  As quickly as possible without actually running, I left the mayor’s office. His secretary spared me another disapproving look as I passed. Thank goodness I was having lunch with Greer. My grandma had been right. This place was not friendly to witches.

  As I left the town hall I glanced back at one of the upper windows. There stood the mayor, watching. I considered waving, then thought better of it.

  The Daily Brew, the only coffee shop in town, was located not far from the town hall on Main Street. There were comfortable chairs, cute nooks, and the comforting aroma of coffee in the air. Greer was waiting for me when I arrived, which was the first time I took a proper breath since I’d said goodbye to the mayor. She had already ordered us sandwiches and coffee.

  I walked in and collapsed into a chair.

  “So, that was fun?” Greer prompted.

  “No, not really,” I said.

  Greer picked at her food. “Is this a ghost thing?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Mrs. Goodkeep threatened to tell Charlie about me if I didn’t help her with Gracie.”

  “That woman loves causing trouble,” said Greer.

  “She thinks Gracie’s in trouble,” I said.

  “Is she?” Greer asked, looking surprised. Except for the occasional stray kitten or wild goose, nothing much happened around Mintwood. A kidnapping would be big news, especially of a prom queen.

  I leaned forward and told Greer the headlines of my two visits to Gracie’s the day before, finishing with Detective Cutter’s arrival and his insistence that there was nothing to worry about.

  Greer’s eyes were wide. “She was robbed and kidnapped. Who would want to spend that much time with her?”

  “It certainly looks like someone did,” I mused.

  “If the mayor is threatening you, there’s more here than meets the eye,” said Greer.

  “He didn’t out and out threaten me,” I quibbled, thinking back to the strange conversation in his office.

  “Yeah, but that’s what he meant,” Greer scoffed. “They hauled you into the town hall by saying they wanted to thank you, then they did the opposite.”

  The Daily Brew’s doorbell tinkled. Greer’s dark blue eyes flicked and her delicate nose twitched, then she dropped her chin and took a long sip of her coffee, looking unmistakably uncomfortable.

  “What?” I asked, starting to turn around.

  “Don’t look,” Greer hissed, her eyes suddenly going wide as she nearly choked on her coffee.

  There was only one man who could make Greer that uncomfortable, and that was Deacon. She had dated him all through high school. He came from a family of incredibly wealthy property developers, so he’d had every opportunity to hone his own skills. By this time he had managed to buy and operate all t
hree of the apartment complexes in the area.

  When Greer had realized that her life wasn’t going in the direction she wanted, she’d dumped him. He liked to party, he was good-looking in a movie star sort of way, and he was rich, so girls were really big fans of his, and Greer didn’t like all the attention they gave him.

  She had thought kicking him to the curb would be easy, but he hadn’t taken it well. Ever since then he had been trying to get her back. But he wasn’t trying hard enough to be willing to get her evictions overturned – he had his standards, he’d told her.

  “He probably thought that if he let me get kicked out, I’d have to move back in with him,” Greer snorted. “Then I’d be back with him by definition.”

  “You showed him. You moved into a falling-down shack instead,” I said. “Smooth.”

  “It’s an old Victorian farmhouse,” Greer amended. “Very cute and an excellent find.”

  I leaned forward and kept talking in a low voice, trying to act casual so that Deacon wouldn’t notice us. Deacon was now behind Greer, so she couldn’t see him, but I could.

  He had warm brown eyes and dark blond hair cut just long enough for the perfectly tousled ponytail. He and Jasper Wolf had always been friends, but they had become especially close after they both came back to the area after college.

  “I’m just sick of him following me around, you know? He should get over me already, like move on.” She rolled her eyes when I tried to shush her. “Is he still here?”

  “Hi, Greer,” said Deacon’s voice. He’d gotten his coffee and come to stand behind her, smiling.

  My friend turned around slowly. “Hi, Deacon,” she said icily.

  “How’s it going?” he asked. “Where are you living these days? You must have found a place.” His tone was casual, but I could see that beneath the cool facade he was actually concerned about it.

  When neither Greer nor I said anything, Deacon’s eyes brightened. “You’re living with Carrot?”

  “Her name isn’t Carrot,” said Greer through gritted teeth, but I laughed. No one had called me that in so long I had nearly forgotten about my unfortunate high school nickname.

  “Yeah, I got a roommate,” I said, grinning. “She plays really loud music, but her cooking is divine.” I had always liked Deacon. He did a lot of crazy stuff but he always treated Greer like she meant the world to him, and I never once saw him compromise that. Why she never noticed was a mystery to me, but she said he liked attention from girls too much and he’d get over the break-up. I wondered, though, if she would.

  “I know about both these things,” said Deacon, his voice low.

  Greer tried to kick me under the table, but I skillfully avoided her black-booted foot.

  “Careful, she likes to burn stuff,” said Deacon.

  “That wasn’t my fault,” said Greer.

  “You set a tenant’s sofa on fire,” said Deacon.

  “He was being a jerk,” said Greer.

  “So you admit it?” said Deacon.

  “I admit nothing,” said Greer stubbornly. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “It’s a free country,” said Deacon. “I can get coffee anywhere I want.”

  “Except here,” said Greer.

  Deacon looked like he was about to say something sarcastic, then he paused and just looked sad.

  “All right, sure, whatever you want,” he said, and smiled at me. “Good to see you, Carrot.”

  “And stop calling her Carrot,” said Greer.

  “Nope, you only get one demand per interaction,” said Deacon.

  With that he walked away, grabbed the door handle of The Daily Brew, and gave Greer one more glance before pulling the door open and heading out.

  “The nerve of him! The absolute nerve!” said Greer.

  “Yeah, he’s a really horrible human being, wanting coffee and all that. I only ever think horrible human beings want coffee,” I said.

  “I wish you’d take this seriously,” said Greer.

  “He’s a good guy,” I said, “and he loves you. I know that isn’t enough to make you to want to be with him, but if he can’t have you, at least let the man have his coffee!”

  Greer put the lid back on her disposable coffee cup and stood up. “Let’s get going. I have laundry I need to look at while I watch TV at the house.”

  I knew I had hit a nerve. Greer was hurting over Deacon, and trying to hide it.

  “Do you really think he cheated on you?” I asked on the way to our cars.

  Greer hunched uncomfortably. “I never asked him about it.”

  “Right, but you suspected,” I said. “Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

  “He’d just lie,” said Greer. “All men lie.”

  “That’s dark,” I said.

  “You’re a witch,” said Greer. “Isn’t your own thing dark?”

  “I’m a good witch,” I said. “Just because I see ghosts doesn’t mean I like it.”

  To cheer Greer up, and because I had already promised Liam I’d come, I proposed that we stop at the Twinkle Costume Shop.

  Greer brightened as soon as we walked into the shop. Liam had moved to town at the end of senior year, so he hadn’t been around long in high school. He enjoyed telling tall tales about why he’d been relocated to Mintwood, like maybe he was on the run from gangsters in his old town, or there were too many women who couldn’t resist him and he’d had to move. His stories got taller and taller every time he told them, until he’d fall over laughing. Now he owned the Costume Shop, a mix of glittering cheap party clothes and Halloween costumes.

  We walked into the dingy interior, stuffed so full of clothes it was hard to move. I called out, “Liam?”

  “NO WAAAAY!” Liam came prancing out of the back room, arms outstretched. He was a big fan of monochrome, always with just a splash of color thrown in. Today he wore bright red lipstick and bright red nails. He gave us both big hugs and air kisses.

  “How are my favorite ladies?” he asked. “Staying in trouble, I hope?”

  “There’s no trouble to get into around here,” said Greer.

  “Honey, I’m sure you’d manage to find some,” said Liam, quirking one perfectly manicured eyebrow at her. Greer laughed.

  “How’s Charlie? How is she taking it?” Liam asked.

  “How’d you know?” I demanded.

  “Oh, please. This is a small town! Everyone knows,” said Liam. “He was never good enough for her anyway.”

  “Charlie’s doing all right. Even when she’s sad she always puts her eight cents in,” said Greer.

  “It’s two cents. If you’re that confused, maybe she is upset,” said Liam.

  “It’s not two cents the way Charlie does it,” Greer muttered.

  Liam threw back his head and barked out a laugh. He came off as so refined and proper, but his laugh sounded like the rumbling of a bulldog’s belly.

  “Have you heard anything about the robberies?” I asked, thinking there might be a connection between the missing Pier Pearl and the string of robberies the Gazette had written about.

  “None last night, thank goodness,” said Liam, “but if there’s one more I’ll be sleeping under my shop counter with a shotgun. See if I don’t! They aren’t taking much, just little things they can grab quickly, but it’s still upsetting. Poor folks like us are just trying to get by, and what if these fellows turn violent?”

  “You’ll apparently have a shotgun if they do,” said Greer.

  “I’ll show them they can’t come into the Costume Shop,” said Liam. “They can take anything on the sale rack. I’d prefer they pay for it, but I could live with it if they didn’t.”

  “Do you have any idea who’s doing it?” I said.

  Liam shook his head. “All I know is that a string of places has been hit, almost nightly.”

  “They’ll be caught soon,” said Greer.

  “I hope so,” said Liam. “And now, what were you doing at the barn protest the other day?”r />
  “You know how I feel about that barn,” I said, my face already growing hot.

  “I know, dear. I also know how you feel about Jasper Wolf,” said Liam, prompting Greer to coo in delight. If I could have found a way to take the freaking Jasper Makes My Knees Weak t-shirt off, I would have done it!

  After that we didn’t stay much longer. Liam had to get back to work when a couple of old biddies named Fearne and Frannie, who would have fit right in with the tea party on my lawn, came into the shop and started looking through the jewelry. They ran a small hardware shop that specialized in key copying.

  When we got home, we both went to our rooms. Later I heard Greer go into the shower and then, a bit later, slam the front door on her way out. She always had a hard time on days when she ran into Deacon; he was, after all, the only boy she had ever loved. I knew she’d be fine by the next day, but I still felt bad about bringing up their past. I myself had never had a love like that, so maybe I had no right to be commenting.

  Chapter Ten

  Paws was sitting on the hood of my Beetle when I headed out to meet Greer at the bar.

  “One, the car’s not still warm, and it’s not as if you could feel it if it were, and two, I’m leaving, so move,” I said.

  Shockingly enough, Paws did neither of those things. “Did you go to Gracie’s last night without me?” he asked.

  “Of course I went without you. I go everywhere without you, haven’t you noticed?” I huffed and checked my watch. I didn’t want to waste any time getting to the bar, because Greer had texted me not long ago to say that Jeff had come in, and since he didn’t always stay long I had to get there as quickly as possible.

  “I’m going with you,” said Paws. “I’m bored here, and if you get into trouble, or a lot of trouble, I want to see. Front row seat, baby!”

  “You want to watch me, like, get arrested?” I asked, incredulous.

  That had, in fact, been just about the gist of the meeting I’d had with the mayor that morning. I had felt threatened more than thanked, and it was strange that they hadn’t pressed me harder about my appearance at Gracie’s. Gracie’s uncle at the very least had to know that she and I weren’t the best of friends. If Hank knew we didn’t get along, it was likely that her living family knew as well.

 

‹ Prev