“He better not,” said Greer dangerously.
“No, I don’t think that’s where he’s going,” Charlie said.
We continued to follow at a safe distance. André still wasn’t driving as if he had any idea we were behind him.
“Where is he going?” I asked.
His route was utterly confusing. He hadn’t ended up at Mintwood Mountain after all, and there wasn’t any other destination in this direction that I could think of. Just a lot of trees and lonely pavement.
Finally André pulled over to the side of the road and got out of his fancy car. It was just some nondescript section of road, with no houses, no shops, just the middle of nowhere in complete darkness.
We speculated that he had noticed us after all and had stopped to confront us. I braced for the possibility that he was getting out of the car to have a little chat with us.
Or worse.
“Can we investigate our own murder?” Charlie asked. Apparently her thoughts were not far off from my own.
“That may not work so well if we’re dead,” said Greer dryly.
“Details,” said Charlie.
“It’s not so bad,” said Paws, examining his sparkling paw.
“Okay, I take it back,” said Charlie.
“Rude,” Paws said.
“Pull over here,” Greer instructed me.
I did as she suggested.
By the time we got out of the car, André had disappeared into the woods. Other than having stopped, he still hadn’t given any indication that he knew we were there.
Or maybe that’s what he wanted us to think, and he was actually planning an ambush.
If so, maybe it was about to work.
“What now?” Charlie asked, peering into the murky forest.
“I’ll find him. What else did you bring me for, anyway?” the cat asked.
“Certainly not for the comic relief,” said Greer.
“I’m hilarious! You just don’t appreciate me,” said the cat.
Paws scrambled out of the passenger side door and trotted off into the brush. The three of us waited, trying to stay out of sight.
Greer coughed, but softly.
Charlie drummed her fingers on her lap.
I looked around but saw nothing of note.
“How are you and Deacon doing?” Charlie asked.
Greer looked aghast. “Is now a good time for a conversation like that?”
“I figure there’s no time like the present,” said Charlie sweetly.
“We’re fine,” said Greer through gritted teeth. “His cousin is getting married in a couple of weeks. That will be a society do.”
“We already knew that, didn’t we?” Charlie asked.
“Yes,” said Greer nodding. “In fact, if I remember correctly, we all said we’d go.”
“How fun of us,” said Charlie.
Suddenly, a sparkling streak emerged from the woods and hurried back to the Beetle. I opened my door to hear what the ghost cat had to say.
“It’s this way,” said Paws, sounding excited for the first time all day.
“What’s he doing?” I asked.
“I would tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me,” he responded. He trotted off into the bushes and we had no choice but to follow as quickly as we could.
“Why don’t you try me?” I asked when we caught up to Paws.
“Okay, he’s walking,” said Paws.
“Truly shocking,” said Greer.
“Yes, isn’t it?” said the cat.
Mintwood village was surrounded by gently rolling hills, and the town as a whole encompassed three lakes and a lot of forest. The summit of Mintwood Mountain offered beautiful views of the Maine countryside. All of this was the sprawling area where I had spent much of my time growing up.
But at night—or even sometimes in daylight, especially in the woods—it could all look the same. With that in mind, I would have been very nervous about getting lost on our little expedition except that we had Paws with us. The cat was very sure of himself.
“How is it that so many of these mysteries have us tramping through the woods?” Charlie glowered. “And at night!”
“We’re looking into secrets,” I said. “If secrets were on billboards then they wouldn’t be secret.”
“Thank you for the bumper sticker explanation,” said Paws.
“You should stay busy leading us, not listening to us,” said Greer.
“You’re right, it would be best if I weren’t listening,” said Paws.
We continued to make our way carefully through the woods. I couldn’t hear anything up ahead, and I was confident that André was so far in front of us that we weren’t going to run into him by accident. Paws just knew where to go.
“Everyone stop! We’re here,” said the cat after about ten minutes of walking. I had had several branches swing back in my face until I decided to give Greer a wide enough berth so she wouldn’t be able to hit me with leaves and twigs.
When Paws came back to retrieve his straggling ducklings (us), he looked very serious. “Okay, there’s the building up ahead. André has gone inside. It looks like a house. There are no roads leading to it. Actually, it looks more like a box than a house. But I guess that’s what houses are too. I have no idea what’s inside. I could either follow him or come back and get you three. I decided to come back and get you. Against my better judgment.”
“How very good of you,” said Greer.
“I do my best,” said the cat.
“I doubt that,” said Greer.
“The real question is whether André knows we’re here,” Charlie pointed out.
“Good point. But I don’t think he does,” I said.
“Let’s get going,” said Greer. “For all we know he’s destroying evidence while we stand around yakking.”
“Did you have any idea he had a secret building out here?” I asked Charlie.
“I do try to keep tabs on people around town, but I never follow them,” Charlie pointed out. “Actually, there was that one time . . .”
I didn’t have to see her face to know that she was rolling her eyes.
“Onward and forward,” said the cat, plunging into the dark woods again.
“This is as excited as I’ve seen him in a long time,” said Greer.
“He doesn’t like André,” I explained. “He’s hoping we’ll catch André doing something illegal.”
“Ahhhh,” said Greer.
Paws hadn’t given us much warning. Right on the other side of the trees we were standing under was in fact a building. The cat had been more correct in his second description of the structure. It wasn’t really a house.
“It’s a warehouse,” breathed Charlie.
Mintwood, Maine, was home to all sorts of strange characters. From the yearly competitions to the top-hat wearing, cane-carrying mayor, we were unique. André fit into that format, paradoxically, by not fitting in; a Parisian was something entirely different, even for Mintwood.
Now we didn’t have just an entirely different Parisian, but a secretive one to boot.
The building’s siding looked like metal sheets and did, as Paws had said, form a great big box. Very close to it and all around us were trees, so that if you weren’t approaching from the direction we were coming from it would have been difficult to spot the structure at all.
Well hidden was an understatement.
“Some poor person could be making their way through the woods and then suddenly slam into a building,” whispered Charlie.
“Except that this underbrush is so thick I don’t know who’d be trying to scramble through here,” said Greer. She shoved against the nearest wall of branches and limbs by way of illustration. Unfortunately for her, the thick leaves shoved back.
“Good point,” said Charlie.
“What should we do now?” Greer asked.
“You mean because there are no windows, so we can’t see what he’s doing?” Charlie asked.
“Yes,
that’s right,” said Greer.
“We wait,” I said. “He can’t stay in there all night. I know he has a house in downtown Mintwood, and he’ll surely leave here and go there eventually. When he leaves, we go in and see what’s in there, in case it has something to do with Isabel Gray.”
The four of us settled in. To my surprise, Paws stayed close to us. Either he was afraid on his own account or he was afraid we’d do something foolish if he didn’t keep us in line.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go in search of forest mice?” I asked the cat.
“Why would I want to do that?” Paws asked. “They’re big and crazy. I like a nice fat house mouse, thank you very much. In fact, if you could let a few more mice into the farmhouse, dropping some crumbs, I’d really appreciate it.”
“If you’d appreciate it, I’ll get right on it,” I said dryly.
“Great,” said the cat, just as if he wasn’t aware of how sarcastic I was being.
“How long do we have to sit here?” Greer asked, already bored.
“As long as it takes,” said Charlie. “I love a good stakeout. The thrill of the chase. The adrenaline of the catch.”
“We’ve been sitting in the woods chatting about boys. This could either be a stakeout or a sleepover,” said Greer.
“Exactly,” said Charlie.
“It amazes me that you get any work done at all,” said Greer.
“Is that André?” I asked.
“It sure looks like it,” said Paws. The door to the storage unit had opened and a man stood there, framed in the light from behind him. As we watched, he turned and flipped a switch, plunging everything into darkness.
Before he’d opened the door my eyes had adjusted to the night, but looking at the light threw them off. I could only hope he didn’t walk our way, since I could no longer see a thing, including his possible approach.
We waited a long time without hearing anything, but at last Charlie whispered to Paws, “Is he gone?”
“Yes, he was gone seven minutes ago,” said Paws.
“Great,” groaned Greer.
“Let’s go,” I said.
I stood up, my legs stiff enough to keep me hobbling for a few steps. When I’d gotten them loose again I hurried out from under the cover of the trees and walked through the brush toward the storage unit André had just left.
I kept glancing to my left and right, worried that he might jump out at me.
He didn’t.
When we got there, the door was—unsurprisingly—locked. I tugged and tugged and nearly fell over trying to open it.
“That’ll unlock it. NOT,” said Paws.
“It’s time for magic,” said Greer.
“Or a miracle,” said Paws.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I sighed. I told myself that if I was performing a spell it wasn’t technically breaking and entering. I knew it was a leap of logic, but I was going to make it anyhow. I felt a little guilty, but since there had been accusations against André we had to know.
Was the gallery owner involved in Isabel Gray’s murder? Would we find evidence one way or another in his secret lair?
“Hurry up! There are a lot of bugs out here,” said Charlie, swatting around her face at real and imagined mosquitoes. “When people imagine how lovely the country is, and wish they could go for a walk in the woods, no one mentions the bugs.”
I wanted to perform a spell as quickly as I could; I didn’t want to think about which spell I had used the most since I’d learned I was a witch. But hey, it might very well have been this one.
The door swung inward and we all held our breath.
Chapter Eighteen
We walked slowly into the doorway, staring at the darkness in front of us. Paws rushed in ahead of us humans, winding through our legs and saying something about the last person inside being a rotten egg.
From the doorway, all I could see inside the building was shadows. “Are you going to be sissies? Someone be brave,” said Paws.
Keeping my wand aloft, I was the brave one who stepped through the door first, green dots of light flying from my wand. I ordered the green dots to increase. And I added a bit of sparkle as we walked in. There was no one out here to see, so maybe I was just being superstitious, but somehow it didn’t seem like a good idea to use the light switch.
“I hope that stuff won’t catch anything on fire,” said Paws.
“Just cat fur,” I said.
“So funny,” said the cat.
“I know what this is,” said Charlie in awe.
“Because you’re so smart?” Greer asked.
“It’s a storage facility,” said Charlie.
“Well, that seems obvious enough,” Greer muttered.
“For stolen stuff?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” said Charlie. “It’s an awful lot of stuff not to be stolen.”
“Let’s look around,” I said. “It’s really amazing how many secrets a small town like Mintwood can have.”
Greer pulled out two flashlights and handed one to Charlie, and the three of us split up. Charlie felt her way to the back of the storage facility, while Greer took one side and I took the other. I had no idea what I was doing.
“This stuff has been here for years,” said Charlie. She had headed into one of the back corners and was kneeling next to a stack of pictures. “There are labels on everything. These are from 2009.”
“These have been here for a really long time as well,” said Greer, from the opposite side of the room.
“I wonder why he keeps them here,” I asked.
“I think I found something,” said Paws.
“What is it?” I asked. The three of us converged on the ghost cat, who was sniffing at something.
“Can you actually smell?” Charlie asked.
“Only bacon,” said the cat.
“It says ‘for Isabel Gray,’” said Charlie.
“Just what do you think you’re doing here?”
A voice rang out, and before we could even react, the door slammed shut.
I spun around, but I couldn’t see a thing. The person at the door was holding a bright lantern and I had to blink several times before my eyes could adjust.
“Lemmi?” said the voice. A man’s. If I hadn’t known better I would have said there wasn’t a hint of a French accent. Unfortunately, I did know better.
“Yes, it’s me,” I said, silently thanking myself for lowering my wand to look at the labels Paws had wanted to show us. If André had seen my wand, all bets would have been off.
“Care to answer my question?” André asked.
He also lowered something—the lantern. But it was still very bright as he walked toward us. Charlie and Greer shut off their flashlights and Paws scurried to hide. André looked baffled and a bit concerned, but not too angry. Yet.
He glanced at Charlie and Greer. “Of course you two would also be here. I’ve never seen the three of you separated. I’m only surprised Liam isn’t a member of the party as well.”
André had lost the most recent Mintwood Window Display Competition to the Twinkle Costume Shop and he’d never quite forgiven Liam for it. He had even gone so far as to accuse the younger store owner of cheating. Of course there was no proof, so he’d been forced to drop the matter. But Liam caught snooping wouldn’t have surprised him any more than Liam not caught, but still cheating, had surprised him.
I thought about saying that just because Liam had a better window display didn’t mean he was also into breaking and entering, but for once the sensible part of me won out and I kept my mouth shut. Self-preservation can be a powerful motivator.
Since he knew André couldn’t hear him, Paws said, “Liam won the competition because he had a better display. At least he doesn’t have secret storage lockers.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Charlie biting her lip to keep from laughing. Greer was better at having a stony face, but André could still see that they were amused by something.
His
face hardened a little and I wished for Paws to stop making jokes. We didn’t want dramatics while we were alone with André in his secret building in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night.
Sheesh, what are we doing here? I wondered privately.
“We just happened to find this place while we were out walking,” I said. I wished I could learn to be a better liar.
“Did you find it or did you follow me here?” he asked.
“We may have followed you,” Charlie conceded.
“Why? Why not allow people their privacy? Is the Main Street Association really that nosy?” André asked.
“The Main Street Association?” Greer asked in confusion.
The Association to which he was referring governed all the shops on Main Street. Each storefront had to fit in with certain town guidelines, and the Association was there to create those guidelines and then make sure they were followed. Most store owners didn’t mind, but André always thought he knew better than everyone else.
“Don’t play stupid with me,” André sputtered. “I’m sure Keith put you up to this.”
“Let’s be honest, we don’t really need to be put up to much,” said Charlie.
Greer briefly closed her eyes; I knew she was wishing Charlie would just stop.
“If it wasn’t the Association, then who was it?” André asked, lifting his chin. The light coming from below made the shadows on his face look ghoulish.
“We followed you because we’re looking into the murder of Isabel Gray,” I explained.
André’s eyes went wide. Of all the things he expected we might say, that wasn’t one of them.
“How did you get the idea that I had anything to do with that? A murder, no less? It’s so preposterous it must be the truth. You Americans. Why would you possibly think following me would help?” he asked.
I was pretty sure that André had been born in someplace like New Jersey, but never mind that for the moment; we had a murder to investigate and staying focused was probably the only way we were getting out of there safely. Also, if we acted reasonably, André might be more likely to talk.
“So you followed me to my art warehouse? And it has something to do with Isabel,” André was looking more confused by the minute.
“We thought that following you somewhere was the best choice,” Charlie explained, as if the idea of not following him hadn’t occurred to her (it hadn’t).
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