Witch of Mintwood Mysteries 7-9

by Addison Creek

  Charlie’s face filled with worry, but the lines around her eyes and mouth smoothed out a bit when she realized that I wasn’t panicking.

  Well, at least I didn’t look like I was panicking.

  “What’s happening?” she gasped, although she must have known the answer as well as I did, having seen the sign over the mysterious tent.

  “Ellie’s here,” I said grimly. That was all the explanation we needed.

  The dark witch was striking Mintwood with increasing frequency, and I knew I needed to do something about it, but I still had no idea what.

  “Is everyone else asleep?” Charlie asked.

  “Looks like it,” I said, remembering the night the chandelier had fallen at the Iriswood Country Club. The freeze hadn’t lasted long on that occasion, and given how many people there were at the fair I had a feeling Ellie’s little trick wouldn’t last long this time, either. At least, I sure hoped it wouldn’t.

  “The dark witches’ attacks are getting worse. You can’t see the Witches’ Council soon enough,” said Charlie, sounding as worried as I’d ever heard her.

  It hadn’t occurred to me that the Witches’ Council might actually want to help me, but how that Charlie had suggested it I decided she might have a point. Meredith Munn had made it pretty clear that I was in big trouble, but I still wasn’t sure what that trouble amounted to. I was starting to hope that the whole affair might be turned to advantage before it was finished.

  But right now I was more concerned with what was going on in front of our faces.

  “Where’s Greer,” I asked. “Is she okay?”

  “She was at the judging table earlier. Her pie came in third,” said Charlie.

  I scoffed. Greer was clearly the best baker in the history of bakers. “Who came in first and second?”

  “Barb and Mavvie Davie. I guess Mavvie’s pretty determined this year,” said Charlie.

  “Greer is going to have to work to stay in it,” I mused, momentarily forgetting about the danger we were in.

  “We have to find her before Ellie does,” said Charlie.

  “Why would Ellie look for Greer?” I wondered.

  “Because she isn’t with you,” said my friend.

  Suddenly, the whole night changed.

  The simple truth of it hit me all at once and I broke into a run. Charlie followed close behind me, and together we made for the large baking tent as fast as we could go. As we ran I considered the possibility that it was Ellie’s vehicle that had tried to run me off the road, but I quickly discarded the notion. Ellie didn’t tend to work in daylight.

  “Greer,” I yelled as we ran toward the big tent.

  The baking tent was dark, and Charlie and I skidded to a halt at the entrance.

  “You think she’s still in there?” Charlie asked.

  “Is who in where?” said Greer’s voice from behind us.

  Charlie and I spun around and relief flooded me.

  “Did you do this?” Greer asked.

  “Definitely not,” I said. “Ellie has a tent here, and I think this is her doing. Have you seen her?”

  “What?” Greer cried, just as shocked as Charlie and I had been. “No, I haven’t seen her. I’ve been busy losing the baking competition.”

  Greer looked upset, but we didn’t have time to talk about that now, even though I knew wanted to find Ellie as badly as I did.

  “She’s frozen the entire fair,” Charlie whispered.

  “We have to do something,” I said, “but I’m not sure what.”

  “Why do you think she’s done it?” said Greer.

  “I think she’s trying to send me a message,” I said. “She wants my territory. If I don’t leave voluntarily, she’s just going to take it. And she’s going to make me miserable until she does.” It was the only explanation that made any sense at this point.

  “Why is the tent dark?” Charlie asked.

  “The judging ended a little while ago,” Greer explained. “Mrs. Stone left quickly.”

  “Yeah, I saw her carrying a pile of papers,” I explained.

  “That’s fishy,” said Greer.

  “Very,” I responded.

  I pulled out my wand, but by now I could see that people were starting to unfreeze. The thick green sparkles that had been floating everywhere a few moments ago were fading, drifting off into the night to mingle with the stars.

  “The spell she put on the fair is wearing off,” said Charlie.

  “Let’s get back to Liam,” I said. “I have no idea where Ellie is, but as long as there’s any chance she’s around, we need to stick together.”

  Liam was just blinking awake when we got back to his tent, while Gerry was prowling around like an angry lioness. When she caught sight of us she nearly growled. The magic hadn’t frozen her, but she had stayed in the tent to guard her only child.

  Since Liam was coming quickly back to his normal self, we were once again forced to keep quiet.

  “It’s about time you three showed up,” said Liam. “Jasper brought me cotton candy, but that’s no caramel apple.”

  “Jasper came by while I was out?” I said.

  “I guess cotton candy is his favorite thing in the world. He tries to get as many people to eat it as possible, so long as he still gets his,” Liam explained with a grin.

  Chapter Twenty

  Charlie, Greer, Gerry, and I helped Liam for the rest of the evening. He was never out of the tent for more than a minute, so we four women never had a moment to talk.

  It was just as well. I didn’t want to worry Gerry with tales of murderers and dark witches.

  Part of me wanted to go and search for Ellie, the part that thought that all I needed to make the night complete was a good old confrontation.

  But the other part of me won out, the one that knew it was more important to keep my friends safe.

  Finally, late in the evening when the fairgrounds crowd had thinned to almost nothing, Liam sent us home. I was exhausted and we were all dragging our feet on the way to the car when the tap-tap of a pen on a clipboard alerted us to the fact that we weren’t alone.

  At the fair entrance, which we were just passing, was a tent marked “Helpful Information.” Sitting behind a large folding table was Pickle, looking not the least bit tired as she organized large stacks of papers and made notes on clipboards.

  As the three of us walked past, she paused in her work to wave merrily.

  That was the last straw for Charlie, who started scribbling furiously in her notebook. Looking a lot like a modern person courting the dangers of walking while talking on the phone, Charlie ignored the fact that in her obsession with taking notes, she nearly tripped on potholes or ran into poles. I thought she’d have to stop once we were in the car, but not even the darkness deterred her.

  We got home very late, with Charlie still steaming about Pickle implicating her in a charge of murder in the afternoon, then waving at us as if we were all the best of friends that very same evening.

  “As if when I sneak around I get caught,” Charlie huffed, getting to the real heart of the matter.

  As I followed my friends toward the falling down porch, something about the moonlight and the shadows made it look even more ramshackle than usual. But my friends and the farmhouse ghosts, who were gathered on the porch like a reception committee, knew that this was no time to point it out.

  “Charlie, of the three of you I must say that you are definitely the most capable and talented,” said Karen the tea lady.

  The ghosts had apparently been sitting around waiting for us, Paws in his crate, his back razor straight and his front paws placed one on top of the other in front of him. Honolulu was relaxing near the front door. I had never seen Paws so poised or put together before.

  “What is it I can do for all of you?” I asked wearily. It was very late and it had been a crazy evening.

  Mrs. Goodkeep, wearing a massive feather hat and a shawl and carrying her trusty broom, trundled up to us.

>   “Where have you young people been out so late? I tell my family, including Gracie, to get home early. It’s healthier and safer that way,” she said.

  “We were at the fair,” I said. I was about to argue with her and tell her that the fair was perfectly safe, but given what had just happened, that clearly wasn’t true. Mrs. Goodkeep was no dummy and saw the guilt in my eyes.

  “Not the best night, was it?” she asked triumphantly.

  “We have to participate in town events,” argued Charlie. “How else would we solve murder cases?”

  “Fair folk were murdered, is that right? It sounds like it’s safer not to participate,” said Mrs. Goodkeep, looking entirely decided on the issue.

  “What you can do for us is to discuss this dark ghost business,” said Karen, cutting short Mrs. Goodkeep’s sidetrack.

  I should have known it would come to this.

  The dark ghosts had already attacked the farmhouse more than once; it had only been a matter of time before all my ghosts would take notice. I could hardly blame them for not appreciating it.

  “I don’t suppose this conversation could wait until tomorrow night?” I asked.

  “I’m sure tomorrow night there will be some other crisis, so no, it can’t,” said Karen.

  “I think this is my last day here,” said Honolulu sadly.

  “We’ll miss you,” said Paws, swiping at a tear.

  “Speak for yourself,” said one of the mice, darting back underneath the porch before either cat could retaliate.

  “You’re going have to perform a séance,” said Mr. Bone.

  “I’m what?” I asked.

  “Your grandmother always did it,” said Paws.

  “Thanks for telling me in such a timely fashion,” I said sarcastically.

  “Anytime,” said the cat.

  “How am I supposed to do that?” I demanded.

  “Your wand,” said Paws.

  “It’s a real wonder you died single,” Greer muttered.

  “I think you should come to the fair for the next couple of nights,” I said to my cat. “I know you want to stay here and supervise everything, but we really need your eyes and ears.”

  Paws hadn’t come to the fair that evening because he wanted hang out Honolulu, but with her departure imminent I figured he might be willing to come along next time, and I was right. He nodded his head once in assent.

  “The great cat deigns to come down from his castle,” Greer said with a mock bow.

  Paws didn’t appear to notice her sarcasm. He just said, “I’m glad you understand.”

  “So the property needs more protection?” I asked, steering the conversation back to the point.

  “The protections your grandmother put in place are old, and they’re crumbling. They may have protected you up to now, but I don’t think they’ll work under a prolonged attack. And this is clearly a prolonged attack,” Karen explained.

  She said it as if I was too dumb to understand it without a kindergarten-level explanation.

  “Very well,” I said. “I’ll try another way.”

  “Do you have any news about the murders?” Mr. Bone asked. “I think Funnel may come by later, and he’ll want to know.”

  “Nothing of note,” I said. “Sorry,” I said to Honolulu, who was curled up on the rocking chair cushion.

  “It’s all right. I have faith in you. I know you’ll discover who killed Tabitha in the end,” said Honolulu.

  “It would really help if you could remember any other details about the day she was murdered,” said Charlie. “I know you said you were out catching mice, but what was it like when you came home?”

  “When I came home, things were totally normal. It was when I left that things had been strange,” said the feline.

  She suddenly had all our attention. Even Paws, who had been busy pretending he didn’t care about his appearance, had focused.

  “What was strange about when you left?” I said.

  “There was a car in the driveway that I had never seen before,” said the cat. “That’s why I left. I was going to go inside, but then I saw the car and decided I’d better make myself scarce. Sometimes Tabitha hung out with people who were allergic to cats, and then they wouldn’t like me being around, and it would hurt my feelings.”

  “That’s an awful story,” said Paws.

  “Quite,” said Greer.

  “Was the car black?” I asked the cat.

  “Yes,” said Honolulu.

  Now that was a real clue.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  In the morning I decided to do something unheard of. I decided to go to the police station in the town hall and see if I could discover who in town owned black vehicles. Greer was going to stay home and bake all day and try not to get lost in all the flour, so Charlie and I were on our own.

  The day was once again overcast, cloudy, and muggy. I wasn’t happy about it.

  We hopped into the Beetle and headed for downtown Mintwood, with a quick stop to feed Cesar on the way. There had been nothing of note in the paper that morning; Hansen hadn’t even written about the fair. Charlie had pretended she wasn’t disappointed, but Greer and I had both known she was.

  The fair was open all day on Saturday, a fact we were counting on. We saw Helen the postmistress at the Daily Brew as we got our coffees and waved as jauntily if we weren’t about to break the law. In order to put our plan in motion we needed one coffee extra.

  Actually, since I had a feeling that using magic to look at vehicle records might not specifically be illegal, I wasn’t sure if I was breaking the law or not.

  Probably . . .

  As we headed for the police station we saw that Fearne and Frannie had posted a sign outside their lock shop that read, “MURDERERS DON’T GET KEYS.”

  I shook my head in bemusement at the antics of those two.

  The police station was open on Saturday mornings, and the Daily Brew offered free donuts on Saturdays before nine. I didn’t think that was a coincidence.

  Except for the clerk, the station was as empty as the rest of downtown.

  “Good morning,” Tom said cheerfully when we walked in.

  Tom was young and had always wanted to be a police officer. He thought he might achieve his dream by apprenticing to Detective Cutter, so naturally Detective Cutter ignored him.

  “Morning,” said Charlie, brightly.

  “I can’t talk to you,” said Tom quickly. “I can’t tell you anything at all about how the fire started in the kitchen and spread to the rest of the house.” Tom already had an extra large cup of coffee at his desk. We knew from high school that caffeine was his weakness, so we’d brought him another.

  “Oh, no, I wasn’t planning on asking you anything about Tabitha’s house,” said Charlie sweetly.

  Tom looked a little relieved, then his face suddenly transformed and he looked more concerned than ever.

  “Why not? Aren’t you Charlie Silver?” he asked.

  “You know I am. We grew up together,” said Charlie, still smiling. She looked like a cat who had just found a lake made of cream.

  Tom could sense he was in real danger, but he didn’t seem to know how to get out of it.

  “I just want to ask you a few little questions about some information I need,” said Charlie.

  “Oh, okay then,” said Tom. “I can tell you for a fact that I’ve read Mintwood Town Laws, Rules, Regulations, and Suggestions That Must be Followed cover to cover three times. If you need information, I’m your man.”

  “I’ve heard that you’re very knowledgeable,” murmured Charlie.

  “In fact, I always tell people that. If they have a question about Mintwood rules, ask Tom.” He beamed with pride as he said it.

  “Do you keep records of all the cars owned in town?” Charlie said. “I want to know because I may be replacing my Volvo with a newer model.”

  “Of course we keep those records,” said Tom. “They’re strictly confidential, of course. No one would
know you had a Volvo.”

  “I’m sure it would be a big secret,” Charlie agreed. She tapped her lips as if she were thinking.

  While she did that, Tom glanced at me. “Were you wondering about this as well?”

  “Yes, I’m fascinated by it,” I said.

  “I can show you examples if you’d like,” said Tom suddenly, as if a light bulb had just gone on above his head.

  “Can the cars be black?” Charlie asked. “I’m thinking of getting a black car.”

  “Certainly,” said Tom with a slight frown. He knew Charlie’s request was a little odd, but he wasn’t sure why.

  As doubtful as he was, he couldn’t think of any law, rule, regulation, or suggestion that specifically covered this situation, so he went over to a row of file cabinets and pulled a huge stack of papers from the middle drawer of the very last cabinet.

  “These are all the vehicle records going back for the last twenty-seven years,” he said proudly. With some difficulty he managed to dig out one record in particular. Waving it in front of us he explained, “This is for my car, so I don’t mind you seeing it.”

  Then he replaced the stack of paper back in the middle drawer of the very last file cabinet and turned back to us, and we spent the next twenty minutes discussing the filing system.

  “Will you be coming to the fair?” Charlie asked him.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said.

  “Maybe we’ll see you there tonight,” I said.

  Charlie and I left the office, then stopped outside the town hall in a spot where we could see Tom through the window. As soon as we were gone he got up from his desk, and we knew quite well where he was going; we had, in fact, counted on it. He had drunk about a cup and a half of coffee while we were there, but even so, he’d probably only be gone from his desk for a couple of minutes.

  Hopefully that was enough time.

  No one was downtown, because everyone was at the fair, so there was no one to see us being ridiculous. Charlie and I raced back and pulled the station door open. I used magic to keep the bell from ringing, and we both darted to the file cabinet and opened the drawer.

  I used magic again to search out the names of the owners of all the black cars in town. To my extreme disappointment there were fewer than fifty, and not one of the names jumped out at me.