Witch of Mintwood Mysteries 7-9

by Addison Creek

  In short, it was a lovely evening.

  When I arrived at the top of the hill, I was relieved to see that my grandmother’s grave was still in good shape. I had been worried that I was neglecting to keep it cleaned up and weeded, but the stones I’d laid around the edges had done a good job of keeping the weeds at bay so far.

  I had picked a bouquet of wildflowers as I walked, and now I lay them down next to the headstone. Then I sank to my knees and sat in silence for a spell.

  I wanted to catch my grandmother up on everything that had been happening over the past few weeks. I didn’t want her to miss a thing. I told her all about the dark ghosts and my recent mystery cases. I told her the juicy town gossip. She would want to know that Detective Cutter had pulled Fearne over for going twenty-nine in a twenty-five, and that Fearne had given him an earful, to say the least.

  Detective Cutter had given Fearne a ticket anyhow.

  Fearne was incensed, but the detective informed her that she didn’t own the street. She retorted that it didn’t matter, she did not want a speeding ticket. He replied that what she wanted didn’t come into it.

  More fury from Fearne.

  And so it went.

  This incident had been the talk of the town until the next tempest in a teapot took its place.

  I was still busy telling stories when I suddenly had the distinct impression that someone was watching me.

  Once when I’d been at my grandmother’s grave, a chauffeur-driven car had pulled up and then turned away. There was no car this time.

  Instead, a beautiful man stood there, and I found myself grinning stupidly. Jasper Wolf was my boyfriend. It was a settled thing and had been for a while, but I still got goosebumps when I saw him unexpectedly.

  Jasper smiled back and kept making his way up the hill toward me.

  “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, his mint green eyes warm. “Should I go?”

  “Of course not,” I said, glancing back at Evenlyn’s grave as if I was being rude about introductions. “I just try to come here from time to time.”

  “It’s a beautiful spot. The most amazing view in town,” he said.

  I smiled. He knew that saying stuff like that would make my grandmother like him; it was almost as if he knew she was listening.

  Most people thought the best views in Mintwood were to be had on one of the three lakes. Jasper’s barn sat beside the most visible lake in Mintwood, the one where a lot of rich people had lake houses. My grandmother had always preferred a view of grass and fields, not that she would have shunned a lake view if there had happened to be one nearby.

  “What are you doing here?” I smiled.

  “I saw Charlie at the softball game, and Deacon told me he was busy with Greer tonight, so I thought I’d pop by to see you. Since the Beetle was here, I figured you were home. Something funny happened, though. When I pulled up I heard a man’s voice yelling at me. I have no idea what that was about, but when you didn’t answer the door I got worried and came looking for you.”

  “Sorry, I’d have been on the lookout if I had known you were coming,” I said. I was also sorry that Paws had felt the need to yell, but there was nothing to be gained from saying that.

  “I just wanted to see you,” Jasper explained. He took my hand, but seemed unsure where to lead me, so I led him instead.

  We strolled along the rim of the hill a little ways, then sat in the prickly grass while I told Jasper stories about my grandmother. She had picked out her headstone before she died, because she didn’t think her daughters would pick out a sassy enough one for her. She had also picked this spot on the hill.

  When I started to say that it was so she could keep an eye on all of us, I paused for a second. Jasper didn’t know how literally Evenlyn had thought—because she was a witch—that that would happen. As it turned out, she’d been mistaken. She was supposed to be a ghost, but she wasn’t. Instead my grandmother had died and virtually disappeared. There was no keeping an eye on us for her. I had no idea why, but I hoped to solve that mystery someday.

  “I once heard an old legend that said that the farmhouse was built on what used to be a cemetery,” said Jasper.

  My mouth twitched. He was sort of chuckling about it, but he stopped when he saw my guilty face.

  “No way,” he gasped. I found myself blushing.

  “My grandmother could never quite explain it other than to say that it was true,” I said of that very strange fact.

  “That must be creepy,” he said.

  I thought of Paws. “A little bit.”

  Jasper smiled and shrugged. “I’d be upset if I found out that Babbling Brook was built on anything like that. You’re braver than I am.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the early evening. He held my hand, his fingers warm.

  “Did your grandmother teach you about being a witch?” he said.

  I glanced at him. He mostly avoided that topic, to the point that we had barely discussed it since he’d found out about it. It truly amazed me how little difference it seemed to make. I had thought that once he knew the truth, not much else would matter to our relationship. But that wasn’t the case at all. He liked me for me, as cheesy as that sounds.

  “She did and she didn’t,” I said.

  “You must have a lot of magical information here, though,” he said.

  “Why do you ask?” Alarm bells were going off in my head, though I wasn’t sure why. This was Jasper, after all. What could I possibly have to be worried about?

  “Just curious about the history. My grandfather has every business ledger the company ever had,” he said.

  “It’s funny to think of my grandmother’s spell books as business ledgers.” I nearly laughed, but then I caught myself. I couldn’t forget that Jasper was descended from Witch Hunters.

  The two of us lapsed into silence.

  Overhead, the sky was beautiful.

  I tried to focus on that.

  Chapter Two

  Jasper visiting me was exciting, but there was something even more exciting happening that weekend.

  Weddings are a wonderful time of warm celebration with friends and family. All the people the bride and groom love most in the world gather in happiness, coming together to take part in the most joyous of occasions.

  Beautiful weather, the gorgeous views, the best food, the most sophisticated decorations, the highest of standards—everything works together to make the most memorable day imaginable.

  At least, that’s how weddings are presented in the popular imagination.

  In truth, weddings are stressful and rarely fun. Socializing is a chore, as is wearing uncomfortable shoes for an extended period of time.

  The bride has had to make a million decisions and she’s worried about how her warring uncles are going to get along.

  If all of that isn’t enough, half the guests aren’t happy with the venue.

  In this particular case it would be fair to say that the proportion of guests who weren’t happy with the venue was far greater than half.

  Delia Gelding and Damon Stumper were the lucky couple who were about to be married. Damon was Deacon’s cousin, but they couldn’t have been more different from one another.

  Deacon’s family had made a lot of money over the years and had passed that enterprising spirit on to Deacon himself.

  Damon had spent his life traveling, backpacking, and teaching adventure courses in the thick of nature.

  Deacon liked camping and lighting a fire just as much as the next guy, but he wasn’t about to spend all his time that way. There was money to be made and apartment buildings to be looked after.

  Be that as it may, the two were family, and they had always been close.

  Delia was just as much of an outdoorsy type as Damon. They had met rock climbing and never looked back.

  At first they had thought of having their wedding near the Grand Canyon, so it could be followed by a hike. Delia’s mother had quickly
nixed this idea. “But your grandmother is ninety-two!!”

  Damon’s mother would also have nixed this notion if she’d ever had a chance to hear about it.

  I had heard gossip about this wedding, but I hadn’t thought too much about it. Maine was a popular wedding destination, especially in the summer, so it was hardly out of the ordinary to have a big one looming on the social calendar. But as the time approached, I found the wedding more and more on my mind.

  We would all be going, and I was nervous about it. We’d be leaving the farmhouse. We’d be with Deacon and Greer’s families, who didn’t approve of each other.

  And we’d be at a campground.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  The Stumper wedding was a big deal, and it was coming that very weekend. Two families who knew a bunch of other powerhouse families would be coming together to celebrate the lives of their granola-and-rock-climbing children.

  At a campground.

  A lot of Mintwood was invited to the reception. The only bigger wedding would be Greer and Deacon’s, when that one finally came around. Okay, also the wedding of Jasper Wolf and whomever he decided to marry.

  Excitement was in the air. The florist was delighted. The Scoop ice cream shop couldn’t make ice cream fast enough. Tents were sold out at Mintwood Mucking. Keith was delighted. I figured his next move would be to ask Greer and Deacon to get married in the woods too, in the hopes of selling out his stock all over again.

  Greer was going as Deacon’s date. He wasn’t the best man, but he was a groomsman. Jasper had asked me if I wanted to go as his date, speaking about it in his usual casual way, as if it was obvious we’d go together. We had been canoeing at the time, and I had nearly fallen out of the boat, dumping him in the water along with me.

  Instead I just settled for saying yes.

  Now I was to be his date to a wedding. This whole relationship thing made me incredibly happy.

  The witches were probably excited that I had something to lose.

  In the meantime, I occupied myself with ordinary tasks. The fact that I was going away for the weekend didn’t mean that my work halted. I was still pet sitting. And not just the usual cats and dogs.

  There are times in life when you just have to stare something down and make a decision about whether to run or stay and fight. As I looked at the horse named Moon, I knew that this was one of those times. I had to stick around.

  Usually I didn’t take care of horses. Not because I was opposed to horses, although I would be after this job. But horses were usually taken care of by several people, and when one caretaker was out of town, others could step in, so my services were never needed.

  This case was different. There had been a horse emergency at Horse Heaven Horse Ranch, and everyone happened to be gone for the day. I got a frantic call asking if I could check on Moon. He should be fine, grazing in the pasture, said the caller. He just needed water and a bit of company until someone could get back.

  Moon certainly looked fine when I arrived. In fact, for an old horse Moon was looking at me as if he was tempted to charge. I swallowed hard.

  The August sun was high overhead, but it wasn’t as hot as it would have been on a typical midday in July. The weather was already swinging to cooler temperatures. The days were still pleasantly warm and sometimes even hot, but fall was coming.

  In my book, horses were fine from a distance, but I had never wanted to ride one. Moon was too old to be ridden anyway, but in view of the stink-eye he was aiming in my direction, I didn’t think I should tell him that.

  I ended up spending most of the afternoon at the ranch. I hadn’t been asked to stay that long, but I thought Moon would appreciate the company. In the end, I wasn’t so sure he cared; most of the time he just kept munching on grass, ignoring me when I watered and brushed him, except to give me several unimpressed looks.

  It was a nice afternoon even so. The farm was peaceful, and it was pleasant to be outside with animals. I would miss working this weekend. I really enjoyed taking care of all the creatures of Mintwood, even if it was only for a few days at a time.

  I tried to stop thinking about the horse as I headed home. Charlie and Greer would be waiting for me, Greer after spending her day off with Deacon, Charlie languishing in boredom.

  There were very few news stories cycling through the county in August, so a certain reporter was being driven to near distraction with nothing to do.

  Greer was also being driven to distraction as a secondary effect of Charlie’s being on her way there. The night before had been a perfect example. We’d been sitting on the porch enjoying the late summer air. At least, two of us had been sitting.

  “If she doesn’t calm down and stop pacing I’m going to throw my sandal at her,” Greer muttered.

  “What would that solve?” I said.

  “Local Girl is Taken to Hospital with Sandal-Sized Mark on Forehead.” Charlie tried out the headline, then shook her head. “Too long.”

  Greer and I exchanged glances.

  “I might invent a story just so she can investigate it,” Greer declared.

  “Would you? Can it be something involving Mayor Clabberd? I’ve always suspected he came to power through bribery,” said Charlie.

  “What did he use for bribery?” Greer said.

  “You know, stuff people want. The man keeps chickens. Have you seen how he hands out free farm-fresh eggs like candy? It’s hardly believable,” said Charlie.

  “I’ll tell you what’s hardly believable. . .” Greer muttered.

  It would be more of the same tonight. I couldn’t wait.

  I did manage to enjoy the sunshine as I drove along. There hadn’t been any mysteries for the last couple of weeks, but I’d been distracted with pet sitting jobs anyway. It seemed that everyone in Mintwood went on vacation in late July. Greer had also been extra busy, picking up shifts at the bar. One of the other bartenders had quit, and since Greer knew she’d be taking the weekend off for the Stumper wedding, she was trying to help out as much as she could beforehand.

  Dusk was falling as I arrived at the farmhouse, and Deacon was just pulling out of the driveway. He waved and smiled as we drove past each other. I was reminded for the umpteenth time how very good-looking he was, with his dark blond hair and blue eyes. He had only ever had eyes for Greer, even though their parents had never been in favor of the match.

  Both sets of parents were successful, but they ran in different circles. Greer’s parents were more old money WASPs, while Deacon’s were successful developers.

  Whatever the reason, they didn’t get along.

  In one way it had hardly mattered through the years when Greer and Deacon had been dating, because Greer usually pretended she didn’t have parents.

  That might have worked, but for the fact that her parents were alive and well, and Deacon’s were too.

  To make the Stumper wedding all the more enticing to us roommates, both families would be in attendance. Needless to say, Greer was stockpiling whiskey for herself.

  Just kidding.

  “Hey, Paws,” I said as I made my way onto the porch. The ghost cat was curled up on his crate underneath the window as usual.

  “Could you clean this?” he asked.

  “Clean what?” I said, going over to him.

  “The crate,” he said.

  “Isn’t it clean?” I examined Paws’ special seat to see what he could be talking about. Given that it was outdoors, okay, there were a couple of old leaves stuck to the bottom of it. But the crate itself was pretty clean. I frowned at the cat. “Evening to you, too,” I added for clarity.

  “Why do you feel the need to state the time of day?” he said. “I know what time it is. I don’t care, but I know.”

  I gave an exasperated sigh. Paws was clearly in a mood. “It’s a greeting. I was just shortening ‘Good evening.’”

  “That makes all kinds of sense.” He rolled his eyes.

  “Sometimes I think you’re difficult. Other t
imes I know it to be true,” I told him.

  “Evening,” said Karen’s voice.

  Karen was another ghost, one of the three tea ladies, a collection of three ghosts who sat around pretending to drink tea at the garden table. Karen hadn’t always been the ghosts’ ringleader, but she had recently taken that role away from Mrs. Goodkeep, the former mayor of Mintwood, who had lost all credibility after a series of questionable choices relating to family.

  Greer lived in fear of being like her.

  Karen didn’t like me. I was never sure why, but she had no use for the Witch of Mintwood. The other tea ladies weren’t as blatant about it, but they generally followed her lead.

  “Hi, Karen,” I said.

  “We need to have a ghostly meeting,” she informed me. The other two tea ladies were looking on with interest from their table.

  “About what?” I asked.

  “The séance,” said Karen. “Tank is doing patrols, but I don’t know how long he can keep it up. Also, are you aware that your porch is in desperate need of repairs?”

  Over my shoulder, Paws snickered. I turned to glare at him. “Did you put her up to asking that?”

  “Nope. Didn’t have to,” said Paws.

  “I do not do as I am told by a mere cat,” said Karen.

  Having been the Witch of Mintwood for over a year, I had learned something: All ghosts thought very well of themselves.

  “Fine, I don’t listen to Paws either. At least we can agree to have common ground on that,” I added. I glanced at the cat. His eyes were drooping.

  Karen just looked at me.

  Okay, maybe we couldn’t.

  “If there’s any news about dark ghosts, I’ll let you know,” I sighed.

  “Given that Tank sees them almost every night, I have a feeling he’ll be the one letting us know,” sniffed Karen. She turned on her heel and floated back to her companions.

  “Hello, Lemmi, how’s your evening going along?” said Mr. Bone, coming around the corner of the porch. Mr. Bone was a slow-talking ghost, liked by everyone. Of all the ghosts who lived at the farmhouse, he was the least divisive. Going up against Paws, he hardly had much competition for that honor.