At Liam’s tent we found Mrs. Barnett socializing with Liam and Gerry, his mother. They were both sipping tea, and Gerry gave us a friendly wave.
“Evening, girls,” she greeted us. “I’m surprised it took you so long to get here.”
“We had some things to do,” said Greer. “When are the pies judged?”
“In about half an hour,” said Mrs. Barnett. “The judges like to make their choices and then enjoy the evening as much as they can.”
“Eating so much pie must be a real hardship,” murmured Charlie.
Miss Violetta laughed.
“How’s attendance so far?” Charlie asked.
“It’s the best it’s ever been. Sad to say, I think it’s because more Caedmon people have come since the baking competition was opened up to them,” she explained. “They’re going to be sadly disappointed when Greer wins it.”
Greer blushed and scuffed her foot on the ground. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“I am,” said Mrs. Barnett. Her eyes twinkled and her cheeks were still bright red, even though she wasn’t at work. “I have faith in you,” she added.
Once Mrs. Barnett left, Gerry dropped her smiling mask.
“Liam told me what happened earlier,” she said to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m sorry you’re having to worry about it.”
“I can’t believe someone tried to run you off the road,” Gerry said. “And poor Tootsie.”
She looked like she wanted to say something more, maybe about finding the murdered woman’s ghost, but she thought better of it in front of Liam.
“It’s upsetting,” said Charlie. “But maybe tonight we can just enjoy the fair?”
And that’s what we did.
Greer went off to see her pie being judged, which Charlie and I decided to wander around for a bit. We promised to come back and help Liam with his tent in case he got busy.
When we turned to go, I almost jumped out of my skin. Standing right outside Liam’s tent was Jasper, with Hansen Gregory at his side. They stopped and turned to look at us as we came around the corner, and two pairs of beautiful eyes lit up.
“Hey,” said Hansen.
“Evening,” said Charlie. As usual, she flipped her notebook closed. In keeping with tradition, Hansen pretended not to notice.
“Perfect start to the fair weekend,” he said. “I was just telling Jasper that this was the best fair around and I don’t mind admitting it.”
“Everyone’s done so much work this year,” said Jasper, offering me some of his cotton candy. I declined.
“More for me,” he said, and stuffed another handful into his mouth. Charlie giggled.
“Where’s Greer?” Hansen asked.
We told him about the competition.
“Hopefully no more judges will be murdered,” said Hansen. “I can’t believe one murder was discovered right before another was committed.”
“Do you think it’s a coincidence?” I asked.
“I don’t really believe in those,” Hansen acknowledged.
At that point there was a silence while we took in the tents decorated in bright colors and twinkling lights, the laughter, the smell of amazing food. Somewhere nearby a local band was playing. People were strolling around or browsing in tents or trying out the games of skill and hoping to win a stuffed animal. The only thing that marred the perfection was the fact that two of the three baking judges had just been murdered.
“Want to show me around the fair?” Hansen asked Charlie.
“This is the fair,” said Charlie waving her hand around.
“I was hoping for a more detailed introduction,” said Hansen with amusement.
Jasper took a big bite of cotton candy and I suspected it was so that Charlie wouldn’t see him laughing.
“I suppose I could,” Charlie grumbled. “Just don’t pump me for information.”
“I was actually going to suggest that we not talk about work tonight,” said Hansen.
Charlie’s pretty eyes went wide. “But there were two murders.”
“But we’re hanging out at a summer fair in a beautiful place with friends,” said Hansen.
“Okay, fine. Not my fault if it’s boring,” she replied.
“Do you two want to come?” Hansen asked Jasper and me. He said it in such a way that left us free to choose but also let us know that he really didn’t want us along.
Either Jasper got the hint or he wanted to be alone with me, because he immediately declined.
“We’ll be back soon,” Charlie said. “Don’t do anything fun without me.”
“We’re going to have so much fun even without them . . .” Hansen said with a wink.
The two of them strolled away, Hansen seemingly oblivious to women’s stares and whispers as he walked off with Charlie Silver.
“They make a cute couple,” said Jasper.
I nodded, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say. We stood there awkwardly for several seconds, then Jasper motioned for us to stroll.
We fell into step next to each other and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Now I was the one trying to ignore the stares. I just tried to focus on Jasper and how much I enjoyed walking next to him; it really wasn’t hard. He in his turn seemed completely at ease.
“How are the building projects going?” I asked him.
“They’re going really well,” he said. “Summer is our busiest time. We have more work than we really know what to do with.”
“It’s a good problem to have, I guess,” I said. “How’s the Country Club?”
“They made David manager. He’s fitting in quite well. People are impressed that he somehow has access to information that they thought was lost when Mark died.”
I laughed. “Maybe he’s talking to ghosts.”
Jasper started to laugh, then stopped.
I stopped as well.
We both looked at each other.
“Are you kidding?” he asked.
Looking around to make sure we were alone, I decided quickly and took a deep breath. “No, I’m not. The manager’s ghost is still around Iriswood. That was his life, and he loved it. My guess is that he’s helping David whenever he can.”
“And you know ghosts exist because of what you told me you are?”
“Exactly,” I said. “I can talk to ghosts because I’m a witch.”
“And so, what exactly is a witch hunter?” he asked.
“Not all witches are good witches,” I explained. “That’s about all I know. I think you know more, given that you’re from a family of witch hunters.”
I watched his face closely, but he didn’t seem angry. Instead, he just seemed to be curious.
“I’ve never seen any evidence of that. My grandfather has never said anything,” he replied.
“We both know I can’t explain your grandfather. Still, it may explain why he doesn’t like me,” I said.
“You think he knows you’re a witch and he hasn’t said anything?” Jasper asked, more interested than anything else. Could Jasper really have simply accepted the idea that I was a witch?
“Do you want to see proof?” I asked.
“Of what?” he asked.
“That I’m a witch,” I said.
“I already saw it when that witch from Pennwood visited,” he said. “I didn’t think that was some sort of trick of the light. As hard as it was to take in, I knew right then that you were magical. To be fair, I always thought you were magical. Now I just know it’s in more ways than one.”
I stopped at that, but my heart started to race. “That is such a line.”
“Yes, but I can say it because it’s true,” he said with a twinkle in his mint green eyes.
“You’ve barely been talking to me,” I added, trying not to sound like I was whining.
“It was kind of a lot to think about,” he said defensively.
“And now that you’ve thought about it?” I challenged him.
<
br /> “Look, I want you to be my girl,” he said. “I’ve known that for a long time. I thought it in high school, but you weren’t interested. Now that you’re interested, I still want you to be my girl. The fact that you’re a witch will keep things more interesting than they were already going to be. Just so we’re clear: I don’t care what you do. You could be a witch or a teacher or a candlestick maker for all I care. I just want you to be mine.”
It might sound ridiculous to say that my knees had gone weak, but my knees had gone weak. The entire fair had melted away, and all I could see was the sight of Jasper’s green eyes.
My heart was beating fast, but I wasn’t sure if it was from the thought of everyone seeing us together, or the hot male proximity.
Of course, now would be the time to kiss in front of everyone in town, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead I softly took Jasper’s hand and led him around a private little corner. Then I pulled him in for a kiss.
The start of the Mintwood Summer Fair was officially the best night of my life.
Chapter Nineteen
When we finally broke apart, Jasper smiled. “I hoped you wouldn’t change your mind,” he said.
“Why would I do that?” I asked, incredulous.
“I didn’t exactly react well when you told me,” he explained.
“You’d had a shock, that’s all,” I said. “That wasn’t exactly how I was planning on telling you, anyway.”
“Oh, no? How did you plan on telling me?” he asked.
Still holding my hand, he was gently using his thumb to rub the pads of my fingers.
“I had planned on cooking you a delicious dinner and plying you with food,” I explained.
“So you’re treating me like a typical guy,” he said.
“Until you prove otherwise,” I said with a grin.
He let go of my hand and ran his fingers around the small of my back, pulling me close.
The second time we broke apart Jasper said he had to go. It turned out the Wolf Corporation was at the fair in part to tell people about the restoration work they did, and Jasper had left Tyler Spin alone in their tent for long enough.
I promised to come by after I found Charlie.
I wandered around the fair alone for a bit, totally lost in my own thoughts and taking some time to relish how happy I was.
All of that came to an end when I saw Mrs. Stone sneaking around in a way that struck me as mighty suspicious given that the entire town had more or less agreed to keep an eye on her.
I was walking along the outskirts of the fairgrounds when I noticed her. It was a secluded spot where there was no crowd at all, only a couple of tents used for clean-up. I saw someone darting around a corner and realized, on a closer look, that that someone was Mrs. Stone, who wasn’t supposed to be left alone for a minute.
I found this very strange. Her dear old friends had been murdered, and logic suggested that she was the next likely target. Where would she be going, all alone at the edge of the dark woods that surrounded the fairgrounds?
Difficult thoughts started to bubble up in my agitated brain. We had tried to set this question aside earlier, but could Mrs. Stone have murdered her fellow judges so that she had the governing panel all to herself?
It was looking more and more likely by the minute, but I told myself not to let my thoughts get out of hand. Surely there must be some innocent explanation for what I was seeing, I just had to stay quiet enough to remain unseen myself, so that I could figure out what was going on.
I glanced over my shoulder, but there was no help in sight. Hundreds of people crowded the fairgrounds, and I could see no sign of Charlie in the thick crowd. Greer was probably still at the judging tent, so she was no help. Given that the entire town of Mintwood was counting on her to succeed, she needed to focus on her pie-making until the end of the weekend.
All by myself and still giddy from kissing Jasper, I followed Mrs. Stone as quietly as I could. She tiptoed around one of the clean-up tents, clutching a stack of papers as if her life depended on her not losing track of them. As I watched, she slipped into the next tent in the row.
My breath caught and my heart started racing.
Quickly, and keeping to the trees so I’d be in shadow, I darted to the far end of the tent where she had disappeared, hoping against hope that she’d come out the other side.
Sure enough, after almost no time had gone by, there she was!
As the old pastry chef glanced from right to left and then back again, it took me a split second too long to realize what she was up to.
In an old metal oil drum set in a small clearing between the tent and the woods, a fire burned. I knew it was likely to be used for scraps and trash disposal, and I wondered why there was no one around to tend it, but I didn’t have time to solve that mystery at the moment.
As I watched, Mrs. Stone walked right up to the blaze, tipped her arms over, and dumped the entire stack of paper into the flames.
If she hadn’t looked guilty before, she sure did now.
She didn’t waste any time before walking away from the fire. As I watched her retreat I thought I noticed a rustling in the trees, but when I focused my attention on the spot there was nothing there.
Was Mrs. Stone guilty of the murder of her fellow judges? I couldn’t be sure; I knew very well that there could be any number of explanations for what I had just seen.
But one thing I did know. In a very short span of time I had amassed a lot of stuff I needed to tell Charlie and Greer.
I hurried back into the heart of the fairgrounds.
All around me people were enjoying the evening, crowding the pathways and the insides of tents filled with games and crafts and every locally made good you could think of. On my right was a string of pottery tents, closely followed by knitting and weaving. Directly across from those was a row of woodworking tents.
I was almost back to Liam’s when I remembered the strange and empty booth from a couple of days ago and did an immediate detour to see what it held now. Despite everything that had happened that day, I couldn’t help myself. Curiosity compelled me to gather one more bit of fair information before I rejoined my friends.
I wound around, first having to duck aside to avoid being seen by Mayor Clabberd and Detective Cutter, who were standing a few tents away in deep conversation. I came at the dark booth from the side and could tell right away that someone had put a sign above it.
I skirted around to the front and gasped.
The crowd wasn’t very heavy in this out of the way area, but the few people nearby were looking up in confusion at a sign painted in bright green.
It said, “Fortunes Told by Ellie the Dark Witch of Puddlewood.”
For a few seconds I simply stared, utterly paralyzed with indecision about what to do next. Before I could get myself going again, a familiar voice from behind me asked, “What are you looking at?”
Struggling not to jump out of my skin, I spun around to glare at Charlie, who was standing behind me with Hansen, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright.
In short, she looked really happy.
“I was looking at that tent, or shack, or whatever it is,” I told my friend.
Charlie frowned and looked where I was pointing. Her eyes grew larger as she read the sign, then she gasped.
“Are you talking about the fortunetelling?” Hansen asked.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“I’ve never heard of Puddlewood. I’m pretty sure it’s not in this county. I was wondering where that came from,” he said. “I was thinking about having my fortune told, but I haven’t seen anyone in the booth yet.”
Hansen’s dark curly hair fell over his forehead and he brushed it back.
“Maybe she’s only here on Saturday,” I said weakly.
“I don’t think you should have your fortune told,” said Charlie with a frown.
“You think it’s silly?” Hansen asked.
“Yes, very silly,” said Charlie noddin
g vigorously.
“Well, I’ll be busy for a lot of tomorrow anyhow,” said Hansen, in an unusual act of concession.
“Yeah, way too busy to come here and have your fortune told,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I’d like to know where Puddlewood is, though,” he said.
“Maybe it doesn’t exist,” said Charlie. She was looking at me with huge eyes, trying to ask the silent question.
I shrugged. I didn’t know the answer.
“You think someone made it up?” he asked.
“People do the darnedest things,” said Charlie.
“Well, at least here in Mintwood they do,” said Hansen with a wink. “I think people are much more reasonable in my town.”
After a few more minutes of chatting, Hansen excused himself. He had a baseball game early the next morning.
“How do you think Greer is doing?” Charlie asked.
“I don’t know, but I have a lot to tell you,” I said. I decided to wait and tell her about Jasper when Greer was there, but I couldn’t delay filling her in about Mrs. Stone. Charlie had to know immediately
Before I could even start the story, though, everything changed.
“What’s going on?” Charlie whispered, looking around with concern.
People were slowing down. A guy throwing darts in a booth started to move as if he was in a film being shown in slow motion. A woman stopped in her tracks and started to sway. The music that had filled the air all evening decreased in speed until it stopped altogether.
In bewilderment I looked around to see if I could figure out what was happening.
What was happening was: the whole fair was going to sleep, and a greenish light creeping in from beyond the fairgrounds was enveloping everything in sight.
My heart skipped a beat. My eyes searched for Jasper, but he was nowhere to be found. My chest clenched. Was he okay?
If we were lucky he had already left, but I had a feeling he hadn’t. Oh, what would he say when he saw all of this?
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