Witch of Mintwood Mysteries 7-9

by Addison Creek

  “And people,” Greer muttered under her breath.

  Pickle took a deep breath and gave a sad smile, as if to let everyone know she’d be soldiering on.

  “We’ve been forced to find replacement judges,” she explained. “I wanted to make the announcement sooner rather than later so that there weren’t any questions left hanging. The replacement judges this year are Fearne and Frannie!”

  My mouth hung open. Amateur burglars and senior citizens, in that order, Fearne and Frannie were seasoned lady trouble at its finest.

  Greer turned to look at me as if to say, is she for real? Fearne and Frannie didn’t approve of Greer and her “lifestyle,” meaning the ripped jeans. Apparently you could steal other people’s stuff if you wore a skirt that reached your ankles and a white blouse with pearls while you were doing it.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” I said.

  “It’s brilliant,” said Charlie. “After what’s happened, most people are probably too afraid to replace Tolls and Tootsie, but not those two.”

  Fearne and Frannie were two of the people who had set themselves up with lawn chairs. They both carried antique-looking fans that they waved gently in front of their faces as they smiled at the crowd. I couldn’t help but wonder if the fans had been pinched.

  Mrs. Stone seemed delighted by this news. She was crying again, but I thought they might be happy tears this time, at least in part.

  “Do you see anyone who looks suspicious?” Charlie whispered to Greer and me, her neck swiveling from left to right as fast as she could make it go.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “We need information,” said Charlie urgently. My friend had gotten an idea into her head and she wasn’t to be distracted. “Someone here knows something, or they suspect something, and we have got to find out what it is.”

  “You know who knows everything here?” Greer whispered to her.

  As if orchestrated, all our eyes turned to Pickle, who was still clutching her clipboard as if her life, or maybe her sanity, depended on it. She was talking in a low and urgent voice to the mayor and Detective Cutter, who seemed to be listening intently.

  “Just what do you think she’s saying to them that she looks so serious about?” I mused.

  “I don’t know, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the murders,” said Charlie. “Come on.”

  As subtly as she could, Charlie crept to the outer edge of the gathering place. Once there, she walked casually along the path while most people were preoccupied with talking about what the detective and the mayor had just told them.

  No one was really paying any attention to the three of us, and Charlie was counting on that. She swept the long way around so that we disappeared behind the back of a big white tent that was level with where the mayor had left his car. A police cruiser was sitting next to it.

  “This is a bad idea,” Greer muttered.

  “Where’s your sense of adventure?” Charlie asked.

  “I lost it in the woods last night. It couldn’t keep up,” muttered Greer.

  “Don’t be boring,” Charlie chided her. Then she added in a voice so low I could barely hear it, “Here, this way!”

  I quickly fell into step behind her.

  As we crept along the outside of the white tent, I scarcely dared to breathe. We were utterly exposed out here in the open, if only anyone had been paying attention. Creeping around in the middle of the night when we were the only ones around was one thing, but eavesdropping on the mayor’s private conversation with Detective Cutter was quite another.

  “I swear I saw something the other night,” Pickle was explaining in her high-pitched voice once we got within hearing range.

  How she managed to sound high-pitched while she was whispering was a mystery to me, but Pickle herself was a mystery I had never been able to grasp.

  “Saw something where?” Detective Cutter asked sharply.

  “Here at the fairgrounds,” said Pickle, now sounding a little like she was whining. “I forgot my third planner at the fairgrounds and came back to get it. While I was here I saw someone creeping around at the back of the tents on the lower field. At first I thought it was that Liam guy, because his clothing shop is so strange, but then I realized it was a woman.”

  “Did you get a good look at her?” the detective asked.

  “Just to see that she had blonde hair,” said Pickle. “I think that Charlie Silver girl could be her.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Disinclined to wait around listening to any more of Pickle’s nonsense, Charlie tried to go confront the woman right then and there. But Greer and I knew better.

  Greer grabbed Charlie’s left arm while I held her right, knowing that this was not the time to stop Pickle from saying more, or to reveal that we’d been listening. Charlie glared, but when she saw our faces she stopped struggling. Pickle wasn’t finished speaking, and we all wanted to hear what she had to say, including Charlie once we made her calm down.

  “I’m just trying to help. You know how much I care about the fair,” said Pickle. “I’m sure Charlie’s a good person.”

  “So you just saw a blond person sneaking around the fair and thought it might be Ms. Silver because she has blond hair, but you don’t even know if this has anything to do with the murder, and you really don’t know if it was Ms. Silver, either?” the detective asked.

  Charlie beamed with pride. I rather liked Detective Cutter in that moment as well.

  “I mean, yes, well, like I said, they were sneaking around. I did think it might be connected. Two of our judges are gone now,” said Pickle, sounding defensive.

  Finally arriving after threatening all day, the rain cut the conversation short. Large droplets started to fall, slowly at first but with the promise of more. The sky was filled with dark clouds the size of my farmhouse, gathered one over another in layers of gray and black. A lot of rain was poised above our heads, and any second it was going to start pouring down.

  We made a mad dash back to Liam’s tent, jumping over fast-accumulating mud puddles and nearly toppling into each other as we streaked past open tent flaps where everyone else was safely inside sipping tea.

  “Since when did Liam’s tent get so far away?” Charlie called over her shoulder.

  Neither Greer nor I had the breath to answer.

  When we finally reached Liam’s, the tent flap was open and the smell of chocolate was wafting out.

  Inside was a surprise: Jasper and Deacon had showed up again. The three men were sitting comfortably on folding chairs, chatting about who knew what.

  “There you all are!” Liam cried, springing to his feet. “You disappeared after the lecture. I mean announcement.”

  “They have a habit of doing that,” said Jasper dryly.

  I glared at him. He seemed determined to almost reference my real profession as often as possible. Well, I planned on giving him what for in return!

  “Hi, honey,” said Deacon, standing up and wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.

  “Your shirt’s going to get wet if you hug me,” Greer protested. Deacon pulled her closer and whispered something in her ear. My friend giggled.

  “We’re right here,” said Charlie. After being accused of snooping by Pickle, she was not in a good mood.

  “Would you be so offended if Pickle’s accusations were true?” I asked her.

  “I do love to snoop, but it wasn’t me. Obviously,” said Charlie, sitting down on another folding chair and peeling off her soaking wet cardigan.

  “What happened?” Liam asked.

  We told the guys about listening in on Pickle. I was careful to avoid Jasper’s eyes as the story unfolded; who knew whether he’d approve of such tactics.

  “I can’t believe she accused you of sneaking around the fairgrounds! Furthermore, I can’t believe that you weren’t sneaking around the fairgrounds!” Liam joked.

  We all laughed, but Charlie’s frown quickly returned. Even if she was amus
ed now, she wasn’t going to forgive Pickle for the accusation.

  The laughter died down and everyone seemed to decide simultaneously that it was time to go get dry and clean up for the evening. Since we had come in two cars, Liam asked if one of us wouldn’t mind giving him a ride home. Charlie had articles to check and Greer needed to put the finishing touches on her first pie, so I told Liam he could ride with me.

  The two of us headed for the Beetle while my friends took Charlie’s Volvo and headed back to the farmhouse. By now most of the afternoon’s crowd had headed home to get some dinner before coming back for the opening of the fair. Still, a fair number of folks were still around for us to wave to and greet as we left.

  “Do you know everyone in town?” I wondered.

  “Yes,” said Liam. “How else do you think I get out of speeding tickets?”

  The parking lot was deserted when we got there, and as we pulled out Liam directed me to a little-used back road out of the fairgrounds.

  “This is the bumpiest road ever,” I grumbled as we jiggled and bounced over the potholes.

  “I think the trees are pretty,” said Liam.

  “That’s not the point,” I said.

  We hadn’t gotten far when I heard the sound of a revving engine behind us, and in my rearview mirror there appeared a sleek, black car.

  “Have you ever seen that vehicle before?” I asked my friend.

  Liam turned in his seat and looked out the back window.

  “I’ve never seen that car before,” he murmured. “Weird. I’m sure they’ll pass you once there’s more room.”

  “Probably,” I said, but before I could say anything more my words were drowned out again by the noise of the engine revving even faster. Before I could react, I heard the spewing of dirt and gravel as the black vehicle went speeding past us.

  In desperation I swerved to the right, steering straight into the ditch. The Beetle came to an instant stop and the red taillights of the offending car disappeared in a cloud of dirt.

  Breathing hard, neither Liam nor I said anything for a few seconds.

  “Are you all right?” he asked at last, staring straight ahead with wide eyes and a shocked look on his face.

  “I think so,” I said.

  I shoved the car door open and hopped out to examine my dear old car.

  “I think everything’s fine,” I called out to Liam, who was still sitting in the passenger seat, half stunned. The Beetle hadn’t gone far after I’d lost control of it, just down a slight incline, not enough of a slope to do too much damage. My fender was slightly bent and I saw a tangle of smoke curling out from under the hood.

  As subtly as I could, I pulled my wand out of my sleeve. Holding the magical instrument straight down my arm, I waved it gently. When a soft stream of green sparks came out and flowed into the car, the spitting and smoking stopped instantly. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said the car sighed in relief.

  “I think it’s okay,” I said, reassuring myself as much as Liam.

  When I was settled back in the driver’s seat he said, “Do you think that was intentional?”

  “Yes, definitely,” I said grimly. “That car forced us off the road.”

  “Why?” Liam asked.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “But I intend to find out.”

  “Do you think it had something to do with the murders?” he said.

  We hadn’t gone anywhere yet; my hands were still shaking and I was afraid to drive until I calmed down a bit more.

  “What else could it have to do with?” I said.

  “Maybe someone didn’t like the placement of my tent,” he suggested. “Also, I can’t believe that the car wasn’t damaged after that little excursion into the ditch.”

  “Yeah, really lucky,” I said.

  “Are you okay to drive?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I think I am now,” I said, taking a deep breath.

  My wand had given me courage. Without that bit of magic this would have been a lot more complicated and I would have been a lot less brave.

  We’d just been run off the road, and the fair hadn’t even begun.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When I got home I filled my friends in on what had just happened.

  They were both getting ready for the fair by the time I got there, and although their methods were quite different, they involved everyone crowding around the bathroom mirror at the same time.

  Charlie had curlers in her blond hair and had again donned her pink bathrobe and fuzzy cat slippers. “Don’t let Paws see them! I’m not sure if he’d be offended,” she said mischievously.

  Greer was applying dark eye shadow to her face. She had already put on a ripped white T-shirt and boyfriend jeans. Her sneakers were old and tattered, with a few smudges of dirt to complete the effect.

  Having listened in silence to my story, Charlie was indignant while Greer was angry.

  “What kind of car was it?” Charlie demanded.

  “A black one,” I said. My hands weren’t dirty but I washed them anyway, as if I could wash away the effect of what had just happened.

  “Descriptive and helpful,” Charlie muttered as she continued to fiddle with her hair.

  I shrugged. Cars were not something I was familiar with, so giving a make and model was outside my skill set. “It might have been a sedan? It looked like it was in good condition, but it was old,” I said.

  “Why would someone want to run you off the road, though? No one could possibly know that you’re investigating this case,” said Charlie. “The police haven’t even declared that there officially is a murder case yet.”

  “I’m sure Paws could think of a few reasons,” Greer commented.

  “Paws probably paid them to do it,” I laughed.

  The idea of the cat as some sort of notorious ghost gangster was hilarious, possibly because it might not have been that far off from the truth.

  “Liam suggested it had something to do with his tent placement, but I’m pretty sure he was kidding,” I said.

  “If the murderer is after Liam, we have to protect him,” said Charlie. “He shouldn’t be alone right now!” She started putting her makeup on faster and adopted a worried look.

  “His mother is a witch, and he’s with her now,” I said. “She’ll protect him if anyone attacks. Besides, it was my car, so I think whoever tried to run us off the road was after me.” I wasn’t just saying it to reassure my friends; something in my gut told me that this was about me and not Liam.

  I had less than an hour to shower, change, and get back to the fair. For Greer it was the first night of the bakery competition, for which she’d entered an apple pie. Tonight she’d receive the initial round of results for her hard work and delicious baking talent.

  Pies were ranked in each of the three rounds of the competition; whoever had the highest overall ranking won. The third and final pie was weighted the most heavily.

  “Sounds simple enough,” said Charlie as the three of us piled back into the Beetle.

  Paws had declined to come along, declaring that he really had to stay at home and tend to chores. When I asked him what exactly he was up to, he gave me a lecture about hard work.

  We drove away from the farmhouse just as dusk was falling. I was excited for opening night, which was always an extravaganza to remember.

  Goosebumps raced up and down my arms as I thought about the fact that Jasper would be at the fair. I hoped he would be; maybe if he saw me doing normal human things he would forget about the fact that I’d told him I was a witch and he was a witch hunter.

  Also maybe Paws would suddenly become a nice cat!

  The rain that had fallen earlier had cleared off, taking the mugginess with it. The evening was bright and warm, the perfect night for the start of a summer fair.

  “Everyone in Mintwood is going to be there,” said Charlie with excitement.

  “Everyone wants you to win the competition,” I said to Greer. “No one wants a Caedmon
resident to take top prize.”

  “Mavvie Davie could win,” said Greer, but she didn’t sound convinced.

  “There’s no way her baking is as good as yours,” said Charlie, shaking her head.

  “Do you think Fearne and Frannie will hold a grudge against me for my role in discovering their thefts?” Greer worried.

  “They promised to be fair and unbiased,” said Charlie. “I have a feeling that unless they’re bribed with unlocked front doors at shops around town, they aren’t going to be biased.” She paused for a moment, then added with a frown, “On the other hand, I saw Mrs. Barb talking to them this afternoon, and she was looking awfully chummy.”

  Greer groaned. “I’m doomed.”

  “Mrs. Stone has been doing this for years. She’ll keep them in line,” I reasoned.

  The inside of the car smelled deliciously of apples, cinnamon, and butter and I decided that I wouldn’t mind staying in the Beetle for a while if I had to.

  When we got within range of the fairgrounds, we were unsurprised to see a long line of cars waiting to get through the entrance to the parking area.

  “Should we take the back way?” said Greer.

  She was referring to the dirt road I had taken earlier, and although I was hesitant, I knew there was no other way for us to get onto the grounds as early as we needed to for Greer to get her pie there in time. After cutting through several back streets, I turned onto the dirt road. There was still some traffic, but not as much as out front. We got to a parking spot without incident and it wasn’t long before we were heading for Liam’s tent.

  “This smells so good,” Charlie squealed. She pulled out her notebook. “The article for tomorrow is going to be so fun!”

  “Lena wants you to do the fair write-up?” Greer asked.

  “She’s busy trying to get information out of Detective Cutter about the murders. She calls this delegating,” Charlie rolled her eyes.

  As we made our way to the Twinkle Costume Shop’s tent we saw the Snickses and Miss Violetta, and we greeted them happily. Greer took her pie to the competition tent, intending to stay and take care of it, but Mrs. Stone made it wordlessly obvious that she didn’t appreciate any hovering on the part of the contestants, so in the end Greer came with us.