The Goodbye Witch

by Heather Blake

  “Have you seen Mrs. P lately?” I interrupted.

  Firelight flickered in the pupils of her eyes. “Are you now changing the subject, dear?”

  “Yes, but for good reason.” I explained about my worrisome encounter with Mrs. P that morning and her potential heart troubles.

  “I had no idea she’s been feeling ill,” Ve said, topping off her cup from the teapot on the coffee table. Thin wisps of steam rose from the dark liquid. “Has she been to see Cherise or Dennis?”

  Dennis was Cherise and Terry Goodwin’s son, a Curecrafter as well as a doctor with a proper M.D. He wasn’t my favorite person in the village, but he was talented at his job and proving to be a stand-up kind of guy. “I’m not sure. She said she’d seen a heart doctor.”

  “I’ll ask Cherise when I see her next. See if she has any scoop for us.”

  There was no right to privacy among Crafters, which accounted for our tendency to be secretive with just about everything.

  “Now back to your party,” she said. “We can hold it here, or at the Cauldron. Pepe can make you something lovely to wear. . . .”

  “No party,” I insisted. “Besides, Pepe’s busy this week.”

  “With what?”

  “It’s the week of his discontent.”

  “Yes, yes. I’d forgotten.” She sipped her tea. “Poor little man.”

  “Should we do something to cheer him up?”

  “Like throw a birthday party for you? What a lovely idea! Everyone loves a party!”

  Not everyone. Not at all. “You’re relentless.”

  “Tenacious is more like it.”

  “I don’t need a party. I like quiet birthdays.”

  “Phooey,” Aunt Ve said.

  I didn’t want to explain to her that for most of my life my birthdays were simply another day on the calendar. Early on, after my mother died, I would get my hopes up about my birthday, creating fantasies of my father surprising me with a party or even a quiet family dinner out (so I didn’t have to cook) or receiving a meaningful gift from him. And every year I was disappointed. My father rarely remembered my birthday at all and when he did, he usually gave me only a card with cash stuffed inside. When Harper was old enough, she tried to pick up his slack, and I treasured her little handmade gifts and lopsided cakes more than I could ever say. But really, birthdays dredged up all kinds of emotions I’d rather have left buried, exposed wounds best left hiding under a thick bandage.

  I suppose my birthday was the day of my discontent.

  “Pepe will be fine,” Ve said after studying me for a long moment. “A little wallowing does no harm once in a while. He always snaps to once the week is up.”

  “I just feel like we should make him soup or something.”

  “Ah, Darcy. Such a tender heart you have.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” This wasn’t the first time I’d uttered those words after she made such sweeping comments. Usually a life lesson for me followed soon thereafter.

  “No, it’s not a bad thing,” she said softly. “Tender hearts are loving . . . yet often naive and can break easily. One must be very careful.”

  Thinking of Nick and Mimi, I bit my lip.

  She watched me carefully for a few moments, then said, “I suppose a little soup couldn’t hurt Pepe, and I know it will make you feel better at any rate.”

  It would make me feel better. I didn’t like seeing my friends hurting. Doing something, anything, even making soup, would make me feel less useless. With that thought in mind, I also planned to make soup for Starla as well. Or perhaps a stew . . .

  We sat in silence for a few minutes before I suddenly sat up straight. “Oh!” I said. “I forgot in the midst of all the chaos that a package arrived today. Crystals?”

  Ve’s eyes lit. She rubbed her hands together. “Good, good!”

  “What’re they for?”

  “The Swing and Sway dance competition. I’m on the decoration committee.”

  “The what?”

  “The Swing and Sway.” She smiled. “It’s held every January at the Will-o’-the-Wisp.”

  The Will-o’-the-Wisp was a local venue that often held wedding receptions and the like, so it was entirely plausible that a dance competition would be hosted there. “When is it?”

  There was a twinkle in her eyes as she said, “This coming weekend. Sunday—it’s the commitment I just mentioned.”

  “Why haven’t I heard about it before now?” A dance competition would be highly publicized around the village.

  “It’s very exclusive. Invitation only.”

  “Why is it exclusive? Is it for swingers or something?” I mean, it was called the Swing and Sway after all.

  “I wish.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “But, if you must know, Darcy dear, the dance . . .” Aunt Ve tipped her head as though searching for just the right explanation. “It’s very secretive because there might be a few state ordinances being broken,” she said. Then she giggled. “The competitors dance naked except for bow ties for the men and silk gloves for the women.”

  My jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope.”

  Images rushed at me. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was going to have to wash my imagination out with soap. “I didn’t need to know that.”

  She patted my hand and laughed. “You asked.”

  “I wish I hadn’t.” Wished it with all my might.

  “Does that mean you don’t want an invitation?”

  I popped open an eye. “No, thanks.”

  Still laughing, she glanced at the clock, and drew back the blanket we shared. “Come on, my sweet little witch, it’s time.”

  The minute hand on the mantel clock was about to sweep toward the number twelve. Midnight. It was time to cast the protection spell for Starla.

  As I followed Ve into the kitchen, I couldn’t help but wish she didn’t need it.

  But I feared she did.

  Kyle Chadwick was back in the village.

  And being invisible made him that much more dangerous.

  Chapter Eight

  The snowshoe idea had been abandoned when Harper showed up in my bedroom at six thirty the next morning. Missy leapt onto the bed, her tail wagging, her doggy breath fogging up my glasses as I settled them on my nose.

  “Why aren’t you awake?” Harper asked in a loud whisper. “We have things to do, places to see, a sociopath to track down. Let’s go, let’s go.” She bent over and clapped in my face.

  Yawning, I smacked her hands away. Usually I was up by now—I was an early bird—but I’d been up late with Aunt Ve casting the protection spell and was in no mood for my sister’s enthusiasm.

  “Shh,” I said. “Starla and Evan are probably still sleeping.”

  They were in the room next door, and the walls were quite thin. As far as I knew, Starla had slept through the night. I hoped she’d awaken today feeling less anxious. I hoped Evan slept in as well—Saturdays were the only mornings he wasn’t at the bakery first thing in the morning.

  He worked too hard, in my opinion, going to work in the wee hours and getting home late. I knew he loved his bakery and didn’t mind the crazy-long workweeks, but I thought he could delegate a little more. It would allow him to have more of a social life as well. I’d love to see him fall for someone, settle down.

  “They are. I just checked,” Harper said. “All the better for us to go now so we’ll get back before they wake up.”

  Outside, I heard a mourning dove cooing, its gentle song a direct contrast to Harper’s animated voice. I squinted toward the window. “It’s not even light out.”

  “It will be in”—she looked at her watch—“forty-five minutes. Just enough time for you to get up, get dressed, get caffeinated, get bundled, and hit the Enchanted Trail with me.”

  Missy bounded off the bed and out the door, probably anticipating her breakfast. I tossed my covers aside. “You’re entirely too bright-eyed right now.”


  Rubbing her hands together, Harper smiled. “We’re going to find him today, I just know it. I think I know where I lost the brothers’ tracks last night. I went left when I should have gone right.”

  “You’re lucky they didn’t realize you were following them.”

  “What would they have done?”

  I trudged to my dresser and pulled out a T-shirt, sweatshirt, a pair of thermal leggings and a pair of wind-resistant running pants I used for jogging this time of year. No jogging today, however. This trek through the forest would be exercise enough. “I’m not sure. Desperate people do desperate things, and if they know where their brother is hiding—and haven’t turned him in yet—then they’re both probably desperate to keep his location a secret.”

  She smirked. “That’s a lot of desperation.”

  I threw a pair of rolled-up socks at her. “You joke, but I’m serious.”

  “Come on, Darcy. I could probably take both of them down. Did you see how skinny they were?”

  I glanced at my tiny sister, all five feet (barely) of her, and rolled my eyes before heading into the bathroom to brush my teeth and do something with my hair.

  The thing was, she probably could take both of them down. People often underestimated her because of her diminutive size, but she was a ferocious opponent who had no qualms about fighting dirty.

  However, I’d rather her not be placed in a situation where she had to fight at all.

  When I came out of the bathroom, she was gone. I headed toward the stairs but stopped in front of the guest room, pressing my ear to the door. Evan’s soft snores carried easily. Across the hall, Aunt Ve’s bedroom door was open wide and Tilda sat on the already-made bed giving me the kitty equivalent of the evil eye. “Good morning to you, too,” I said to her.

  She turned around, giving me a good view of her tail.

  Tilda spent every other weekend with an Emoticrafter friend of ours, Lew—the result of a strange shared-custody agreement concocted after she involuntarily spent some time with him last year (what an ordeal that was). He wanted to keep her; she wanted to stay with him; but Ve and I weren’t ready to let her go. This wasn’t one of her visitation weekends, and she was letting me know how unhappy she was to be stuck here with us.

  The poor thing had such a rough life.

  I crept down the back stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible as I descended into the kitchen. Harper sat at a counter stool and Ve was already showered and dressed and had a cup of coffee waiting for me. Missy and Twink stood side by side eating breakfast from twin bowls set on the floor. Missy was a small dog, but Twink was absolutely tiny next to her.

  “You girls are flat-out crazy,” Ve said as I sat next to my sister.

  “Harper’s the crazy one,” I said, taking the mug. “I’m just enabling her insanity.”

  “Hey,” Harper objected pitifully.

  Really, she had no argument.

  Humor filled Ve’s eyes. “Just be careful. If you find Kyle’s hideout, do not approach him. Do you hear? Get out of there and call the police.”

  “I promise,” I said. The last thing I wanted was a run-in with crazy Kyle.

  Ve stared at Harper.

  “Yeah, yeah,” my sister grumbled.

  “Does Marcus know what you’re up to this morning?” Ve asked her.

  Marcus Debrowski was a Lawcrafter and Harper’s boyfriend. She liked to play coy about how deep her feelings ran for him, but I could see she was head over heels.

  “He doesn’t need to know what I’m doing every second of every day,” she said in a tone that made me think she hadn’t clued him in on her plans.

  “The real question,” I asked, “is whether he’d bail us out of jail if we get caught by Glinda, because you know she’s itching to slap a pair of cuffs on us.”

  “Ooh, that Glinda,” Harper seethed.

  Sisterly solidarity.

  “Have no fear, girls. I shall bail you out should you get locked up. Now go on with the two of you. Starla and Evan will be awake soon, and I don’t want to explain where you’re off to.”

  Harper didn’t need to be told twice. She headed into the mudroom and started bundling up.

  Reluctantly, I placed my coffee mug on the counter and put on my coat and pulled a stocking hat over my head. Missy ran into the mudroom, her tail wagging, and I leaned down and picked her up. “You stay here with Aunt Ve.”

  Missy growled a little, clearly displeased with having to stay home.

  “Sorry,” I said to her, “but you’ll only slow us down.” I handed her off to Ve. “We have our cell phones and will call if we’ll be any later than an hour.”

  “I’ll stay by the phone,” she said, worry in her eyes.

  Slipping into my boots, I just hoped I wouldn’t be calling from the police station.

  * * *

  The town square was fairly empty this early on a Saturday morning. The foot traffic mostly belonged to locals heading toward the Witch’s Brew coffee shop for their morning cuppa and a scone.

  Honestly, I wanted to veer off in that direction myself. Only my innate nosiness and Harper’s determination had me staying the course.

  My breath puffed out in white clouds as I said, “Have you heard about the Swing and Sway dance competition?”

  She tipped her head back and laughed. “Yes! I can’t believe Aunt Ve is doing it. Is it wrong that I kind of want to go?”

  I stared at her.

  “What?” she asked innocently. “It sounds like it’d be fun. Once you overlook all the body parts that are literally swinging and swaying.”

  I squished my eyes closed.

  She bumped me with her elbow. “Do you want to come with me? You know you do.”

  Opening my eyes to glare at her, I said, “I’m not getting naked in front of the whole village.”

  “Clothing is optional for the spectators. Just not the dancers.”

  “I think I’ll be watching a movie that day.”

  She laughed and trudged ahead of me.

  This village, its secrets, its charms, its quirks, never ceased to amaze me. A nude dance. Who on earth thought of such a thing in the first place? Magic might live here in this town, but eccentricity did, too. I kept forgetting that.

  Morning light flickered across the snowy village as I glanced toward Bewitching Boutique and wondered how Pepe was faring. Overnight, I’d decided against making him soup and opted instead to bring him a slice of cheesecake—one of Pepe’s favorite treats. I’d have liked to do more for him, but I recognized that Ve was probably right. Sometimes it was okay to wallow for a bit. I could simply be a friend offering support and comfort during this difficult week. It was a strange notion for sure, that I didn’t have to fix everything, to realize that some things simply didn’t need fixing.

  I just needed to remember that. Better yet, adopt it and make it my new personal motto.

  Snow crunched beneath my feet as we cut our own path through the village. In the distance I could hear the loud whirr of snowblowers, and I knew that village maintenance crews would soon be hard at work clearing sidewalks and roadways so the tourists could move freely about the dozens of stores that lined the square.

  To my right, the road leading into the village looked like something out of a Currier and Ives winter print. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of dark bare branches that arched over the narrow snow-covered roadway, making the snow crystals sparkle.

  It felt magical.

  It was magical.

  Inhaling deeply, I breathed in the crisp, cool air.

  “Darcy, come on!” Harper snapped.

  I’d stopped to admire the sheer beauty around me. “But look.”

  “At what?” she said on a loud sigh, clearly exasperated with my dawdling.

  I grabbed her arm. “Look,” I implored. She rolled her eyes so hard, I thought for sure they’d get stuck in the back of her head.

  Letting out a huff, she crossed her arms and looked around. “What am I looking at? We h
ave things to do, Darcy.”

  I gave her my sternest look, the one I saved for her most outrageous behavior. Like the time she’d been arrested. “Even in the darkest of times, it’s important to notice the beauty around you. To realize that there’s more good than bad in the world. In this village.”

  White wisps of steam puffed out of her mouth as she took a better look around. I felt some of the tension ease out of her as her gaze swept in the little details. The delicate prints left in the snow as a squirrel scampered about, pines trees that appeared to be frosted in vanilla icing. The take-your-breath-away loveliness of the glittering snow.

  “It’s pretty,” she grumbled.

  It was the most I was going to get out of her. It was enough.

  Tapping her foot, she asked, “Ready now?”

  I laughed. “What are you waiting for? Sheesh.”

  A smile tipped the corners of her lips as she marched off. There were many paths leading into the Enchanted Forest from around the village and Harper led the way toward the one farthest from As You Wish.

  “This is where Will and Liam entered the forest last night, after spending a good hour at the Cauldron. A stall tactic on their part, but I wasn’t falling for it. I knew they’d lead me to Kyle eventually. They grossly underestimated my stubbornness.”

  The Cauldron was the local pub. “Or maybe they just needed a drink after a rough day?”

  She squinted at me. “They were stalling.”

  I smiled, and she forged ahead.

  Ten minutes later, we found ourselves deep in the woods. It amazed me how utterly silent—except for our footfalls—it was in here. The path itself was covered in a thick layer of snow, and our prints and those of small critters were the only ones visible. Following the trail was made easier by the blue blazes marked on the trees—and I was grateful for them. With the snow and the light and the tall trees it would be easy to become disoriented and get lost.

  However, I didn’t think Harper believed the same. She seemed to have some sort of internal GPS because she walked calmly and assuredly as though knowing exactly where she was headed.

  Fifteen minutes in and I had to unzip my coat. Trudging through the deep snow was quite the workout. I was beginning to think that Harper was leading me on a wild goose chase when she slowed to a stop at a barely noticeable fork in the path.