Witch Is When Stuff Got Serious (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 11)

by Adele Abbott

  I needed to find out what was happening, but I had to do it without letting either of them see me. After sneaking in, all secret-agent like, I found a seat on the opposite side of the shop. I didn’t bother with a muffin; I was too angry to eat. It was incredibly noisy. The stupid man at the table opposite seemed to think that his gong was a drum; he was beating it ten to the dozen. Jack and Miles Best were still laughing and chatting away. How did Jack Maxwell even know Miles Best?

  After about thirty minutes, Miles stood up and left, so I made my way over to Jack’s table.

  “Jill? I didn’t know you were in here.”

  “I bet you didn’t!” I took a seat opposite him. “What were you doing with Miles Best?”

  “Whoa, steady on. Who trod on your corns?”

  “Why were you with him, Jack?”

  “He contacted me, and said he wanted to introduce himself as he was just opening a new P.I. business in the town.”

  “And what? You said, ‘Yeah, okay. Let’s get a coffee’? I seem to remember when you first arrived here, you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

  “I’m trying to learn from past mistakes, and besides he emphasised that he wanted to work with me and not against me. To be fair, he seems very professional.”

  “Oh? And I’m not?”

  “I didn’t say that, Jill. Anyway, I only saw him in the first place because he said he was a friend of yours.”

  “A friend of mine?”

  “Yes. Why? Isn’t he?”

  “Not exactly, no.”

  I was going to kill Miles Best.

  ***

  I must have walked past the building known as The Central on numerous occasions, but I’d never really noticed it before. Its façade was overgrown, and the building was practically derelict. According to Daze, this was where my father had disappeared on two occasions. She’d been adamant that he hadn’t made himself invisible because she would have been able to detect that. So, if he hadn’t made himself invisible, where had he gone and how had he done it?

  Daze had checked the exterior of the building, but couldn’t see any way to get inside. The windows and door on the front were boarded up. A narrow path, overgrown with weeds, led around the back. There were no windows at ground level on the side of the building. The doors and windows on the back had also been boarded up. As far as I could make out, the boarding seemed to be intact; there was no obvious sign that anyone had tried to force their way inside.

  I was well and truly stumped.

  “What are you doing here, Jill?” I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “Grandma? What are you doing here?”

  “I asked first!” she snapped.

  “I was just taking a walk when I happened to notice this old building.”

  “Surely by now, you must know I can tell when you’re lying. I’ll ask again: What are you doing here?”

  It was pointless trying to pull the wool over Grandma’s eyes.

  “I asked Daze to follow my father.”

  “Why are you still wasting time on him? And what’s he got to do with The Central?”

  “I just wanted to know why he’d come back to Candlefield, so I asked Daze if she’d follow him for a few days. Most days he simply walks a circular route which takes him back to his flat. But on two occasions, he reached this point, and then disappeared.”

  “And you care why?”

  “I don’t. I was just curious about where he’d gone. I wanted to know how he could disappear like that.”

  “Do you know the history of this building?”

  “Not really. Only what Daze told me. She said it used to be a meeting place for sups.”

  “That’s only a small part of its history. The ground floor and first floor were hired out for all manner of events, but the top floor was empty for decades until Braxmore moved in. He made it his HQ.”

  “Who?”

  “Braxmore. Probably the most evil sup there has ever been.”

  “I’ve never heard his name before.”

  “You won’t have. These days, people are so focussed on TDO that they forget who his mentor was.”

  “Braxmore was TDO’s mentor?”

  “So the story goes, although no one knows for sure.”

  “What happened to Braxmore?”

  “No one knows that either. He disappeared around the time that TDO came to prominence. The rumours which circulated at the time, suggested that TDO had turned on his mentor. Braxmore was never seen again.”

  “TDO killed him?”

  “That’s what we’re supposed to think.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I prefer to rely on proof rather than speculation.”

  “Did you know Braxmore?”

  “That depends what you mean by ‘know’. Just like TDO, very few people actually knew him. I knew of him, and what I knew, I didn’t care for.”

  “So why was The Central closed down?”

  “When Braxmore disappeared, the powers-that-be took the opportunity to shut the building before a successor could take up residence. It was just the kind of cowardly decision I’ve come to expect from them. Instead of tackling the problem head-on, they brushed it under the carpet, and hoped it would disappear.”

  “That strategy doesn’t appear to have worked with TDO, does it?”

  “Precisely. The only way to deal with evil is to confront it.”

  “Why haven’t they demolished the building?”

  “That’s a very good question. I didn’t agree with its closure, but once that decision had been made, it made no sense to leave the building standing. Unless—” She hesitated.

  “Unless what?”

  “Never mind. Come on. It’s time we were leaving.”

  “Hold on. What were you going to say? Unless what?”

  “Unless someone gave orders to leave it standing.”

  “Who?”

  “You ask too many questions. I don’t have the time to hang around here all day.”

  “Why would my father come here?”

  “More questions! I’ve no idea, but I’ll wager he was up to no good.”

  “Do you think he found a way inside?”

  “You don’t actually know he went inside. You only have Daisy’s word that he disappeared. He probably knew she was following him and deliberately lost her.”

  “But Daze is really smart!”

  “So she says. Look, it’s time we both got going. The less time you spend around this place, the better.” She looked up at the forbidding building. “I have bad memories of this building—very bad memories.”

  ***

  I’d tried to get Grandma to elaborate on her ‘bad memories’ comment, but she brushed me off. She insisted I leave with her even though I’d wanted to stay and look around The Central some more. That would just have to wait for another day.

  Back at my flat, I had the whole evening to myself. This was my opportunity to really study Magna’s book. It took me ages to read through it, but even longer to actually understand the concepts behind it. It was way more complicated than I’d expected, but slowly and surely it all started to make sense. It was nothing like the magic that I’d been practising up until now. They were basically the same spells, but the added power and the ability to mix and match meant the possibilities were endless. It was a scary thought to have such power at my fingertips. Maybe too scary—I wasn’t sure I wanted such responsibility.

  I now understood why Magna had felt the need to hide the book. She’d known she was dying, and feared that, in the wrong hands, this blend of magic could do irreparable harm. What I didn’t understand was why she hadn’t simply destroyed the book so it would die with her. She must have hoped that one day someone would take up her mantle. She surely wouldn’t have expected that someone to be a level three witch who hadn’t even known she was a witch for most of her life. I didn’t feel worthy to be her successor, but what choice did I have? I’d entered the sealed room, and read her book.
There was no undoing that.

  And why had Grandma orchestrated the whole thing so that I’d find the book? What had made her believe I would be able to get into that room? So many other witches—much more powerful than me—had tried and failed.

  I felt such a weight of responsibility on my shoulders. What was I going to do? I wished Magna was still here, so that I could ask her advice. I now had great power, but what was I supposed to do with it? The obvious thing was to use it against TDO. Maybe he’d hoped to stop me before I found the book. Or maybe, he’d deliberately waited until I had the power that came from Magna’s book. The more I tried to figure it out, the more confused I got.

  When I’d first started out in Candlefield, I’d had Aunt Lucy and Grandma, and even the twins to talk to and ask questions. Now, there was no one I could turn to—no one at all.

  I was on my own.

  Chapter 21

  I’d decided to give Bar Fish another try. I liked the concept, but my first visit had been tainted when I’d bumped into Alicia, who I hated with a passion. Maybe this time I’d be able to enjoy the experience.

  The bar was quiet, but then it was early afternoon. I asked the bartender to choose a fishtail for me, and then found a quiet corner table. I was surrounded by fish: in the wall immediately behind me, in a large tube which ran past my table to the bar, and in the tank below my feet. It was a fantastic feeling. A bit like scuba diving, but without those stupid things you have to wear on your feet.

  I’d only been there a matter of minutes when I heard a couple come in through the door. They were laughing and giggling, and generally seemed to be having a great time. To my amazement, it was Luther and Betty. He had his arm around her waist. They ordered drinks, and then took a table close to the window. They hadn’t noticed me, but then I’m not sure they’d noticed anyone. They were too busy staring into each other’s eyes.

  Now, I know this is going to make me sound like a horrible, conceited person, but trust me on this one. Unlike me, Betty Longbottom was not in the same league as Luther Stone. Luther was an extremely handsome man with a body to die for. He oozed sex appeal, and was probably a nine if not a ten. Whereas Betty—well what can I say? Betty was just Betty. She collected crustaceans—need I say more? She was a nice enough person, or at least she was when she wasn’t wearing her tax inspector’s hat or attacking me with jellyfish.

  So how was it that I’d spent forever trying to get a date with Luther Stone without so much as a sniff? I’d practically thrown myself at him. On at least two occasions, I’d assumed that we were going on a date, but I’d been let down badly both times. And now, because Lucinda had given him the boot, Luther had decided that Betty Longbottom was his ideal woman. Was there no justice in the world? Why did I care anyway? I had Jack now; I didn’t need Luther. And yet, it still grated.

  I finished my drink, and walked nonchalantly past their table.

  “Oh, hello, Luther, Betty. I didn’t see you come in,” I lied.

  “Hi, Jill.” Betty beamed. “What do you think of this place?”

  “It’s okay, if you like fish.”

  “I do love fish,” she said. “That’s why we came here. I was telling Luther about my collection of sea shells.”

  I expected him to laugh, but instead he said, “Betty’s going to show them to me.”

  Yeah, I just bet she is.

  “In fact,” he continued. “She’s more or less convinced me that I should start my own collection.”

  I was almost lost for words, but managed, “That sounds fascinating. I’d love to hear more, but I have to get going. Plaices to go, fish to fry.”

  Clearly, the universe had tilted on its axis. Instead of dressing in a sexy little black number, and using all of my feminine wiles to attract Luther, I should have just shown him a few sea shells.

  ***

  “Quick, Jill! I need your help!” Winky was on me as soon as I walked into my office.

  “You need my help?”

  “Hard to believe, I know, but this is an emergency.”

  “Does it involve salmon or full-cream milk?”

  “Nothing so trivial. Bella has been kidnapped, or should I say, catnapped.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure! Do you think I would joke about something like this?”

  “When did it happen?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “How do you know that she’s been catnapped, and not just wandered off?”

  “Bella’s a top model. The catnappers must know they can get a handsome ransom for her.”

  “A handsome ransom?” I chuckled.

  “Now is not the time for your silly jokes!”

  “Sorry. Force of habit. Has there been a ransom demand?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How did you find out about this?”

  “I’ve been trying to get hold of her for over a day, but with no success, so I went over there.”

  “How did you get out of the office?”

  “Never mind that. When I got to her apartment, I overheard the humans talking about her. They sounded worried, and said they had no idea where she’d gone. The woman was quite distressed.”

  “I still think it’s possible that she’s just wandered off or got lost.”

  “No, I’m convinced there’s something sinister afoot. That’s why I need your help.”

  “I’m not sure what I can do.”

  “You’re a private investigator, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yes, but I don’t normally take this kind of case.”

  “I’ll pay you.”

  “What did you just say? You’ll pay me?”

  “Of course. On results, obviously. Provided you find her, and bring her back safely, then yes, I’ll pay you a small fee.”

  “How small?”

  “You’re not going to quibble about money, are you? There’s a cat’s life at stake here. Will you do it or not?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll get straight on it.”

  “Good. I’ll expect an hourly report.”

  So, this is what my career had come to. I was now working a case for my cat.

  This wasn’t going to be easy. I’d spoken to Bella’s owner once before, and it had been pretty embarrassing. On that occasion, it had been Bella’s birthday, and I’d been delivering flowers on behalf of Winky.

  I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It took a few moments, but then a man answered.

  “Hello,” I said, all bright and breezy-like.

  He stared at me. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  “Me? No. I don’t think so.”

  “I’m sure I do—I just can’t think where from.”

  “I get that a lot. I have that kind of face.”

  “Wait a minute. I remember now. Didn’t you bring a bunch of flowers for my cat?”

  “Oh, yes. Of course. I’d completely forgotten about that.”

  “You said the flowers were from your cat.”

  “Winky.”

  “Whaty?”

  “Winky? That’s my cat’s name. He’s only got one eye.”

  “What brings you here today?”

  “I heard that your cat has gone missing.”

  “How do you know that?”

  That was a very good question.

  “Did you take Bella?” he said, accusingly.

  “Me? No! Do I look like a catnapper?”

  “Possibly. You certainly have an unhealthy interest in my cat. You brought her flowers!”

  “I told you. They were from Winky.”

  “So how did you know Bella was missing? We haven’t told anyone apart from our immediate neighbours, and the police of course.”

  This wasn’t going well.

  “I—err heard from—err the police.” Jack was going to kill me. “I sometimes work with them.”

  “What do you mean ‘work with them’. What are you exactly? Some kind of cat detective?”

  “No, I’m a private i
nvestigator.”

  “Ah, now I get it. You’re an ambulance chaser!”

  “No! That’s not it!”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if you’d had someone steal Bella just so we’d hire you to ‘find’ her. Is that how your little scam works? Am I supposed to give you fifty quid, so you can nip downstairs and get Bella from your buddy?”

  “No! This is not a scam. I don’t know anything about her disappearance!”

  “You said you did.”

  “Only that she’d gone missing. I take it you haven’t found her yet?”

  “No, we haven’t.” He took a deep breath. “We’re very worried. Are you sure you don’t know where she is?”

  “Positive.”

  “We don’t know what to do. This has hit my wife really hard. She’s gone to bed with a migraine.”

  “Have you thought of putting up posters?”

  “I wouldn’t know how to make them.”

  “If you have a photo, I can help with that.”

  “Would you? That’s awfully kind. I’m sorry about what I said before.”

  “That’s okay. You’re upset. I understand.”

  “Wait there. I’ll find you a photo.”

  Moments later, he returned with a framed photograph of the feline supermodel.

  “Will this do?”

  “Yes, that will be fine.”

  “Thanks. I don’t know your name?”

  “Jill. Jill Gooder.”

  “I’m Clive.”

  Just then, a woman appeared at his side. Her hair was dishevelled, and she looked as though she’d been crying.

  “I thought you were having a lie down, Bonnie.” Clive put his arm around the woman’s shoulder.

  “I heard someone at the door. Have you found her?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “This is Jill Gooder, dear. She’s going to put up posters of Bella.”

  Put them up? I’d only intended getting them printed.

  “That’s so kind of you.” Bonnie gave me a hug.

  Oh bum! It looked like I’d just talked myself into another job. When would I learn to keep my big mouth shut?

  So, Winky had been right. Bella had disappeared. Was it really possible that she’d been catnapped? Did feline supermodels have a ransom value?