The Goodbye Witch

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The Goodbye Witch Page 6

by Heather Blake


  He grunted as I groaned. “Ow!”

  His eyes glinted mischievously in the light. “Funny, that’s not what I thought you were going to say.”

  I smiled, but the spell had been broken. He rubbed his chin as I rubbed my forehead and reached for the doorknob as the visitor knocked again.

  Pulling open the door, my breath caught at the man standing there, a wild look in his eyes and a disk in his hand. “Vince?”

  “Mrs. P told me what was going on with Starla’s ex. I’ve been worried sick since she’s not at home and not answering calls, but I just saw Harper on the green and she said Starla was here. . . . Can I see her?”

  “She’s upstairs with Evan and Cherise Goodwin right now,” I said. “Maybe in a little bit?”

  “Is she okay? I mean, why is Cherise here?”

  Although Vince was a Seeker, he knew of Cherise’s medical abilities. Around the village she was a well-known naturopath but he didn’t know about her magical healing gift.

  Trying to comfort him, I put my hand on his arm in hopes of stemming his panic. It was obvious how much he cared for Starla, and that made me feel guilty for not fully trusting him. “She’s okay. Just a little stressed out. Cherise is giving her something to help her sleep.”

  I didn’t mention that “something” was a spell.

  He sagged in relief. “I can’t tell you how worried I was. Am. If her ex is back . . . Did you find him yet?” he asked Nick.

  Nick motioned him inside and closed the door. “We’re looking for him.”

  I motioned to Vince’s hand. “What’s that?”

  “Something I thought might help the investigation, but it only confused me. . . . I thought Starla should see it. Well, all of you should see it, I guess.”

  I led the way into the kitchen. The Chinese food bags were still sitting on the counter. “What is it?”

  “My shop’s surveillance footage from this afternoon. When Mrs. P told me about the incident from the skating rink, I realized my outside camera would have caught it.” He kept throwing glances up the back staircase as though longing to go up there and see for himself that Starla was okay. “I thought the police might want verification that Kyle Chadwick was back in the village.”

  I heard a “but” in his voice. A big one.

  “But . . .” he said, “well, you need to see it for yourself. Do you have a DVD player?”

  “In the family room,” I said, feeling uneasy. “Did you see Kyle on the footage?”

  Vince looked at me, his big puppy dog eyes filled with confusion. “I’m not sure, Darcy.”

  “Why aren’t you sure?” Nick asked.

  Vince’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Because whoever was at the rink today was invisible.”

  Chapter Seven

  Invisible. I bit my lip and tried not to appear unnerved. “Really?” I asked, trying to inject levity into the two syllables.

  “I know it doesn’t make sense,” Vince said. “But there’s no denying what’s on the footage.”

  “Maybe we should take a look.” Nick took the disk into the family room and popped it into the DVD player.

  Cherise and Evan came down the back stairs just as Vince was saying, “For some reason, Starla’s image never comes up on film. She’s just this strange bright blur, see?” He pointed at the screen.

  Evan held Twink in the crook of his arm. “What’s going on?” He scrutinized the TV.

  “Vince brought surveillance footage of the green this afternoon,” Nick explained.

  “Starla doesn’t have a metal plate or something, does she, that would interfere with signals?” he asked Evan.

  Evan tried to look innocent as he said, “Not that I know of.”

  “Strange,” Vince murmured. “It happens with you and Darcy and Ve and Harper, too. . . .” His gaze narrowed.

  Cherise busied herself with a loose thread on her cape.

  How long had he been watching us? “Maybe there’s something wrong with your camera,” I said quickly.

  “Maybe,” he murmured. “Anyway, you can see the camera clearly next to the white blur.” We watched as the blur set the camera on the bench, then took off toward As You Wish.

  “Is Kyle on the video?” Evan asked, setting Twink on the sofa. The tiny dog turned three times and settled into the corner of the couch.

  “We haven’t gotten that far yet,” I said.

  Cherise stepped up next to me and said, “Starla’s out like a light, so I’m going to go home now. Call me if there’s any change with her. I can be over in a jiff.”

  “Thanks, Cherise. I’ll walk you out,” I said, needing to speak to her without being overheard by Vince.

  Her eyes filled with understanding.

  “Can you pause that?” I asked Vince.

  He nodded.

  As Cherise and I headed into the kitchen, I heard Vince peppering Evan with questions about Starla’s well-being, and Nick making a call to the police station.

  At the back door, Cherise said, “What’s going on with Vince, Darcy?”

  I didn’t mince words as I dropped my voice. “It looks like he has footage of an invisible Kyle tampering with Starla’s camera. Can you do me a favor and find Archie? Let him know what’s going on?” I didn’t want to leave what was happening in the family room. “I think the Elder needs to get involved with this Vince situation.”

  A Seeker was bound to question the whole invisibility thing—and was more likely to tie it to Wishcraft than the average mortal.

  “I’m on it.” She pulled the hood of her cape over her head. “And call if Starla needs anything.”

  “Thanks, Cherise.”

  She patted my cheek, then disappeared into the swirling snow.

  Nick had finished his call and when he spotted me heading back to the family room he unpaused the video. Vince sat on the arm of the sofa, his leg jiggling at a furious pace. Evan stood next to Nick, his gaze glued to the TV.

  Vince said, “So you can see that Kyle’s not in the shot, right?”

  A visible Kyle wasn’t at least.

  Nick said, “This is some high-resolution video. You must have quite the surveillance system.”

  Fidgeting, Vince shrugged. “What’s the point of having grainy images if there’s a break-in? They won’t be any help in making an identification.”

  I watched him closely. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—I could tell by the way his gaze jumped around. Holding in a sigh, I hoped Cherise had luck finding Archie. I had a feeling Vince’s high-quality video had more to do with keeping an eye on the village than potentially catching a would-be criminal. Once a Seeker, always a Seeker. How his relationship with Starla factored into his obsession with the Craft remained to be seen.

  “It’s coming up,” Vince said, pointing at the screen. “You’ll see Starla’s camera clearly on the bench then . . . wait for it . . . there! Did you see it?”

  I swallowed hard. It was impossible to miss the way the camera levitated.

  Nick rewound, then replayed the footage as though not believing what he’d seen the first time.

  Evan and I shared a worried glance as Vince jumped off the couch and went to stand a foot from the TV. By his look, he didn’t know how to explain this away, either.

  “It’s clear as day,” he said, pointing. “The camera lifts off the bench by itself, then lowers back down.”

  Nick glanced at me. “It’s quite something,” he murmured.

  Vince spun around, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked from face to face. “Why don’t any of you seem surprised?”

  I gulped and stammered. “It’s . . . it’s just impossible, isn’t it? It has to be a glitch in the video.”

  “Right,” Evan said. “A glitch.”

  Vince’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no glitch. This is a state-of-the-art system. What’s going on?”

  I was saved from answering by the sound of a rooster crowing at the back door. Only it wasn’t a rooster at all—the noise was Archie’s calling c
ard. He’d arrived.

  “Is that a rooster?” Vince asked.

  “I, ah . . . I’ll check,” I said, as though that were the most rational thing to do at that moment. “I’ll be right back.” I dashed to the back door, yanked it open, and slipped outside.

  Archie hovered under the porch roof, his wings flapping loudly in the quiet night. A small plastic baggie dangled from his claws. “Here, take this, Darcy,” he said, dropping the bag into my hands. “It’s the memory cleanse. Blow some into Vince’s face, and then come back and let me in.”

  I opened the bag, shook some of the fine sparkly powder into my hand, and then headed back into the house. My heart thumped loudly in my ear as I tried to appear calm.

  As I came into the family room, I let out a forced laugh. “Not a rooster. Just the bird next door making noises.”

  Vince peered around me. “That’s one strange bird.”

  “Oh, I know.” I peered at him as though inspecting his nose. “What’s that on your face?” I leaned in, lifted my hand, and blew the sparkly powder his way.

  He coughed, waving away the pluming cloud. Then his eyes slammed shut and he crumpled to the ground as glitter rained down around him.

  Nick’s jaw dropped. “Is he dead?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “Craft motto is ‘Do no harm,’ remember? It’s a memory cleanse. After he wakes up Vince won’t remember a thing about his time here. Or the video.”

  Evan knelt next to Vince and said, “Perfect timing. I couldn’t think of one thing to explain that footage.”

  I rushed back to the door and let Archie inside. He flew past me and landed on the floor next to Vince’s prone body. He poked him with his wing, leaned in close to Vince’s nose as though checking for breathing, and then said, “‘Good night and sweet dreams . . . which we’ll analyze at breakfast.’”

  I smiled and said, “Spellbound.”

  Archie bowed. “Ah, how I adore Ingrid Bergman, and Gregory Peck can pluck me any day.”

  Evan stared at Archie, one eyebrow raised. “Vince is right. You are one strange bird.”

  Evan and Archie had never really gotten along. Evan thought Archie too melodramatic, and Archie thought Evan too starchy.

  “You’re a fine one to talk,” Archie countered. “You know you’d let Gregory Peck pluck your feathers, too. And if I had my guess, you need a good plucking.”

  Apparently contemplating the scenario, Evan tipped his head and said, “You’re right, I would.” He smiled. “And I do.”

  “I might know of someone. . . .” Archie began.

  “Um, hello,” I said. “This isn’t The Dating Game. We have an issue here.” I gestured to Vince. I squinted. “Is the glitter dissolving?”

  “It is. When it’s completely gone, he will awaken.” Archie prodded him again and said, “He will be out for an hour or so. Enough time to concoct a story as to why he passed out here.”

  “That’s easy,” I said. “He came over to see Starla, slipped in the icy street in front of the house, and hit his head. Evan carried him inside. Vince won’t remember having the disk, so we’ll just let Nick keep that for potential evidence.”

  “Better make it that Nick helped him inside,” Evan said. “I haven’t been to the gym in a while.”

  Archie coughed. “You mean ever?”

  “I have two words for you: deep fryer,” Evan threatened.

  “I dare you.” Archie puffed out his chest and opened and closed his beak like he was planning to bite something off Evan. A finger or nose or whatever he could get his beak on.

  “That’s enough, you two,” I said. “You can save your whole Jets versus Sharks thing for later.”

  Nick rubbed his eyes but still looked stunned. “Should I be alarmed at how easily you came up with that lie about Vince?” he asked me.

  “Impressed is a better word choice,” I said. “When you’re in the business of magic, being able to think on your feet is always a good thing.”

  Archie flew onto the arm of the couch. “Now I can’t get ‘I Feel Pretty’ out of my head. Thanks a lot, Darcy.”

  “Ugh,” Evan groaned. “Now it’s in mine, too.”

  “I feel pretty,” Archie sang.

  “And witty and bright,” Evan added.

  Nick looked at me. “Where the hell am I?”

  I stood up, gave his cheek a quick kiss, and said, “Welcome to the Enchanted Village.”

  I was about to join in the songfest (because, dammit, now the song was stuck in my head, too), when the back door flew open. We all froze, and I tried to quickly come up with a lie about why a glittery Vince Paxton was passed out on the family room floor.

  But I’d apparently used up my ability to think on my feet.

  We’d been caught in the act.

  Fortunately, I realized quickly that we’d been busted by Aunt Ve, and I let out the breath I was holding.

  At first Ve didn’t notice us. She came sailing into the kitchen, whipping off her coat, and oohing over the Chinese food on the counter. “Darcy! I’m home and I’m starving! You wouldn’t believe the traffic coming back from the Cape. And was that Cherise Goodwin’s car I saw out front? Darcy?”

  “In here,” I said.

  She spun around, took two steps toward the family room—just enough to see inside the space—and came to an abrupt stop at the sight before her: Nick and me standing side by side wearing guilty expressions. Evan kneeling next to a crumpled, glitter-covered Vince, and Archie softly whistling “I Feel Pretty.”

  She blinked once, twice, and then said, “Oh, I see. Have all the fun when I’m not here. Let me get the food and the plates, and then you delinquents can tell me all about this.” She waved her hand over Vince’s body. “And don’t leave out a single glittery detail.”

  * * *

  Later that night, Aunt Ve and I sat on the sofa in the family room, sharing a blanket and a pot of herbal tea. It was well past both our bedtimes—we were normally early-to-bed kind of witches but this day had been far from normal.

  We were staying up until midnight, the witching hour. There was a protection spell to be cast and that was the time to do it.

  Tilda lay on the back of the sofa, her tail flicking every few seconds. Twink was upstairs, tucked into bed with Starla, and Evan slept on a blow-up mattress on the floor next to his sister.

  Vince had awoken never the wiser as to what had happened. He sat with Starla for a while, then went home. Nick had gone home, too, without me. In light of all that happened, our date night had been postponed.

  Ve hadn’t been able to explain Kyle’s invisibility, either. His ability to travel freely about the village was disconcerting to say the least. When Archie left he had promised to contact the Elder right away, but we hadn’t yet heard back from her. I had to wonder at the delay. This situation seemed fairly dire to me.

  The only light in the room came from the glow of the flames dancing in the fireplace. A muted orange light illuminated Ve’s face, highlighting drowsy eyes and the coppery strands of her hair pulled into a high bun atop her head.

  “Maybe you should see if Harper made it home safe and sound,” she suggested. “I don’t like her out and about alone this late at night.”

  “Missy’s with her.”

  Ve crooked an eyebrow.

  Truth be told, I wasn’t all that pleased about Harper’s excursion, either, but I was trying not to fly into mother hen mode. Harper had finally texted me a couple of hours ago, saying that she’d followed the Chadwick brothers into the Enchanted Forest—acres and acres of dense woods that surrounded the village—and would check in later.

  The more I thought about Harper being in the woods on a moonless night, the more worried I became. I reached for my phone. “Fine. But if she lectures me about her being a grown woman and not needing someone to look after her, I’m giving you the phone.”

  Aunt Ve sipped her tea, her short fingers barely encircling the delicate teacup. “I’m not scared of her.”

&nbs
p; It was my turn to lift an eyebrow.

  “Not much,” Ve added, smiling.

  I was punching in Harper’s number when my phone vibrated with an incoming text message. It was from Harper.

  I’m home. I’ll keep Missy tonight. Will see you in the morning. Do you have snowshoes?

  I loved how my sister used proper grammar and punctuation in text messages. I’d yet to see an LOL out of her and doubted I ever would.

  “She wants to know if I have snowshoes,” I said to Ve.

  “Have mercy,” my aunt said. “I can only imagine why she wants to know.”

  I typed back.

  Me: No, why?

  Harper: You’ll need some.

  Me: Whaaat?

  Harper: He’s in those woods. We need to find him.

  We. I loved that there was no question as to whether I’d help her. She knew she didn’t even have to ask.

  Me: No, I don’t have snowshoes.

  Harper: We’ll have to go shopping first then. Be ready first thing tomorrow morning.

  She loved nothing better than to boss me around.

  Me: Good night, Harper.

  Harper: There’s nothing good about it.

  I could easily hear my sister’s voice grumpily saying those words, and I smiled as I ended the call. “She’s on a mission.”

  Ve said, “I’m not sure it’s wise to go back into the woods. The police are bound to be searching them as well, and if Glinda catches the two of you . . . don’t make that face at me, Darcy Merriweather. You know it’s true.”

  “I’m just so sick of Glinda.” To my own ears I sounded as grumpy as I imagined Harper a few moments ago.

  “Well then, let’s change the subject to a happier topic,” Ve said.

  “Like?” Tilda’s tail flicked me in the head, and I brushed it aside.

  “Your birthday, my dear.”

  Happy. Ha. I thought not. The dreaded day was next Saturday.

  “How would you like to celebrate your big day?” Ve asked with a gleam in her eye.

  “Forget it?” I suggested.

  “Not a chance. There have been enough memory cleanses here tonight,” she said. “I was thinking a small party, next Saturday night. I can’t do Sunday, as I have a prior commitment. We’ll invite friends and family. Mrs. Pennywhistle, Godfrey, Pepe . . .”

 

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