Witch Is Why The Search Began (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 22)

by Adele Abbott

“Well, aren’t you two just adorable?” I poked my finger through the cage, and the puppies fell over one another, trying to lick it.

  “Mine is the most handsome, don’t you think, Jill?” Amber said.

  “Rubbish. Tommy is much better looking,” Pearl scoffed.

  “Is that what you’re going to call him? Tommy?”

  Pearl nodded. “He looks like a Tommy, don’t you think?”

  “Mine is called Timmy,” Amber said.

  “You’d better put Tommy and Timmy’s cage on the back seat.”

  “I want to sit in the back with them,” Amber said.

  “No, I want to go in the back,” Pearl objected.

  “If you put the cage in the middle, you’ll both be able to squeeze in there.” And that way, I might actually get some peace and quiet.

  “Did you get to see the lighthouse?” Pearl asked, once we were back on the road.

  “No. The lighthouse keeper was too busy to show me around. I did get a cup of tea though.”

  I dropped the twins and their new puppies back at their respective houses, and then I took the car back to Aunt Lucy’s.

  “Aunt Lucy! I’m back!” I called from the hallway. I didn’t want to burst in on her in case she was still with her friend.

  “Success?” Aunt Lucy came through from the lounge. “Did you get the puppies?”

  “We did. I dropped the twins back home. Has your friend gone?”

  “Gloria? Yes. We’ve only just finished searching. No luck, I’m afraid.”

  “It makes you wonder if having a dog is worth it with all that worry.”

  “A dog? It isn’t a dog. It’s a loop bear. Have you ever seen one?”

  “I’ve never even heard of them.”

  “They’re quite small. Just a little ball of fur. In fact, that’s what Gloria calls hers: Furball.”

  “Hold on. These loop bears? They don’t by any chance turn invisible when they’re scared or nervous, do they?”

  “Yes. That’s why it took Gloria a while to realise that Furball was actually missing.”

  “Your friend? Does everyone call her Gloria?”

  “No, only me. I’ve known her since school, and she’ll always be Gloria to me. Almost everyone else calls her Glo.”

  “In that case, I may have some good news for Gloria.”

  ***

  After I’d told Aunt Lucy that I had Furball in my house, she’d got straight on the phone to her friend. The three of us had magicked ourselves over to Smallwash, where the grand reunion had taken place. Furball had been so excited to see his ‘Glow’ that he’d practically licked her face off.

  The cute little bear had obviously fallen asleep in the back of a lorry bound for the human world. When he’d woken, he was just on the outskirts of Washbridge. Scared and invisible, he must have taken refuge in the first building he came to, which just happened to be Chez Piper.

  I made a call.

  “Mrs Piper? It’s Jill.”

  “Hi, Jill.”

  “No more missing food, I assume?”

  “No, but we did find traces of flour on the kitchen floor.”

  “That was down to me. Sorry about that. Look, I really think that whoever was doing this must have got the message that you’re onto them. I highly doubt they’ll do it again.”

  “I’d still like to know who it was.”

  “I know, but I doubt that’s going to happen now. Why don’t you give it a while—maybe a week? If anything else is stolen, give me a call, and I’ll be straight over, but I have a hunch you won’t have any more problems.”

  “I hope you’re right. We’ll see how it goes, then.”

  I wasn’t really all that keen on pets—apart from Barry, and Winky obviously. But then, I didn’t really consider Winky a pet—more a pain in the backside. Still, I could certainly have gone for a loop bear—they were just so adorable. That was never going to happen though. How would I explain to Jack that our tiny bear-like pet could make itself invisible?

  Oh bum!

  I’d totally forgotten about Winky’s throat syrup. If I didn’t get it, I’d never hear the end of it. Then again, if I didn’t get it, he probably wouldn’t be able to talk to me.

  So very tempting.

  “Can I help you, Madam?” The bespectacled pharmacist, dressed in a white coat, approached me. I’d been studying the labels on the throat syrup bottles for the last ten minutes. Who knew there were so many?

  “I’m looking for a particular kind of throat syrup.”

  “Which one?”

  “Feline.”

  “That’s not a brand I’ve heard of.”

  “Feline isn’t the brand name. I mean feline as in: for cats. Do you stock it?”

  “Of course we don’t. This is a pharmacy—not a vets.” He was still tutting to himself when he walked away.

  “Pssst! Hey, over here!”

  The young woman behind the cash desk, was beckoning to me. As I approached her, I realised she was a witch. She bent down, opened the cupboard below her till, and produced a small bottle.

  “This is what you’re after.”

  Sure enough, the label read: Feline Throat Syrup.

  “Thanks. You’re a life-saver. How much is it?”

  “Ten-pounds and fifty-pence, please.”

  “It’s how much?”

  Chapter 12

  When I got back to the office, Mrs V had a face like thunder.

  “Whatever is wrong?”

  “I will swing for your grandmother.”

  I should have known. “What has she done this time?”

  “Look!” Mrs V held up a handful of broken knitting needles.

  “Aren’t those the free ones you got from Yarnstormers? What happened to them?”

  “Your grandmother came charging in here, snatched them from my hand, and snapped them into pieces.”

  “Why?”

  “How would I know? She didn’t say a word. She’s done the same with Jules’ needles too.” Mrs V pointed to the broken needles lying on the adjacent desk. “I understand she might be upset because she has competition now, but there’s no excuse for this.”

  “You’re right. It’s unforgiveable, but I can’t believe this can have anything to do with her being scared of the competition. She’s just closed down her yarn operations.”

  “That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “You obviously haven’t been down the high street today. Ever A Wool Moment is no more. It’s now Ever, the destination.”

  “What’s that when it’s at home?”

  “A tea room, roof terrace and ballroom. And, of course, the Everettes.”

  “The what?”

  “Never mind. I have a couple of things to do, but then I’ll go and see Grandma to find out what she’s up to.”

  “You can tell her we want compensation for these needles.”

  Winky began to remonstrate silently with me. From his gestures and facial expressions, I gathered he wasn’t best pleased at having to wait so long for his throat syrup.

  “Here you are.”

  He snatched it from my hand, unscrewed the top, and took a swig.

  “Steady on. I don’t think you’re supposed to drink it like that.”

  He shrugged and took another drink, then he managed to croak, “It took you long enough, didn’t it? I asked you to buy it, not manufacture it.”

  “I’m sorry it took a while, but I’ve been busy. Do you know how much that cost?”

  “You can’t put a price on one’s voice.”

  “Just as long as ‘one’ realises he owes me twelve pounds.”

  What? The mark-up was to cover my time, and the wear and tear on my shoes.

  ***

  “Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Ti, Do. Do, Re, Mi, Fa, Sol, La, Ti, Do.”

  Oh no!

  “I’m not sure you should be straining your voice yet. You only took the syrup half an hour ago.”

  “I feel fine. That stuff works wonders.”


  “Even so. Maybe you should wait a while before you do any more singing. Say, when I’ve gone home?”

  “Jill,” Mrs V appeared in the doorway. “There’s a Mr Dewey to see you.”

  “Really? Okay, send him through, would you?”

  “Is that cat of yours alright?” Mrs V glared at Winky.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “There was the most awful din coming from in here just now.”

  “It must have been coming from outside. I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Cheek!” Winky said, after she’d gone to collect Stewey. “What does she know about singing, anyway?”

  “Just keep quiet while my visitor is here.”

  The transformation in the man was amazing. The last time I’d seen Stewey Dewey, he’d looked like a homeless man, and he’d been so depressed that I’d genuinely feared he might do something stupid. Today, he looked as though he’d stepped out of the pages of a men’s fashion magazine. He’d had a haircut, his face was clean-shaven, and his clothes were immaculate.

  “I wouldn’t have recognised you,” I admitted.

  “And it’s all thanks to you, Jill. If you hadn’t persuaded me to welcome Harry and Larry into my life, well—I—err— don’t even want to think about it.”

  “I’m so pleased for you. It was terrible to see you blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. Have you seen much of Harry and Larry?”

  “I can’t get rid of them.” He laughed. “Not that I’m complaining. They’ve given me a new lease of life. We’re busy planning the new bakery. I tell you, Jill, I haven’t felt so excited about anything for years.”

  “That’s great. You must let me know when it opens.”

  “You’ll be the guest of honour on opening day.”

  “Does that mean I get a muffin?”

  “You get free muffins for life.”

  Now you’re talking!

  ***

  When I arrived at Ever, Kathy and the other Everettes were busy taking orders and serving drinks. Grandma’s office was still in the same place, although the door had been repainted in a pleasing shade of red, to fit in with the new décor.

  “Can you hear that?” Grandma said. She had her feet in a foot spa.

  “Hear what?”

  “The sound of tills ringing up the takings.”

  “Kathy and the others look run off their feet.”

  “That’s what I pay them for, isn’t it? I hope you aren’t here to stir up industrial unrest among my staff again.”

  “I’m not. I’m here to find out why you broke Mrs V’s and Jules’ knitting needles?”

  “That’s the wrong question.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You should be sorry. The correct question is why didn’t you break them?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re supposed to be the most powerful witch in Candlefield.” She scoffed. “And yet, you didn’t realise that Ma Chivers had cast a spell on all the knitting needles she gave away.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. You don’t think she’d give them away for free without some ulterior motive, do you?”

  “Which is?”

  “I haven’t worked that out yet, but whatever it is, you can guarantee it won’t be good.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Just try to placate Annabel and her sidekick, would you? I don’t need any aggravation from them while I’m trying to get to the bottom of what Ma Chivers is up to.”

  “Okay, and I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

  ***

  As I drove home, I thought about what Grandma had said. She was right; I should have realised the knitting needles had been compromised. What exactly was Ma Chivers up to? Hopefully, Grandma would get to the bottom of it before it was too late.

  Mr Ivers was in the toll booth, but he wasn’t the one collecting the toll fees. Instead, a young man, who looked no more than sixteen, was taking the payments while Mr Ivers was watching something on his tablet.

  “Hello, Mr Ivers.”

  “Hello, Jill. I was just catching up on Toppers Tales. Do you watch it?”

  “It’s not really my thing. I see you have a little helper.”

  “This is my nephew, Bert. Say hello to Jill, Bert.”

  “Hello,” Bert said.

  “I’m paying Bert to collect the toll fees for me. The constant back and forth plays havoc with my elbows.”

  “Isn’t that the sum total of your job? Collecting the toll fees?”

  “And, I’m doing just that. Bert is just acting as my surrogate.”

  “If you’re making so much money from the Toppers newsletter, wouldn’t it be simpler just to give up this job?”

  “Yes, but there’s the pension to consider. The newsletter pays well now, but there’s no pension provision. Paying Bert to take the cash allows me to get the best of both worlds. Plus, it earns a little pocket money for Bert, doesn’t it, Bert?”

  “Yes.”

  A man of few words was Bert.

  Megan was washing her van when I arrived home.

  “Hi, Megan. You can clean my car afterwards, if you like.”

  “No, thanks.” She smiled. “I hate cleaning the van, but I have to maintain the right image for the business. While you’re here, could I have a quick word inside?” She gestured to her house.

  “Sure. I mustn’t be too long though. It’s my turn to cook dinner.”

  “It will only take a minute.”

  Once inside, I could tell Megan was struggling to say whatever it was that was on her mind.

  “Is something wrong, Megan?”

  “Not wrong exactly. I’m just worried you’ll think I’ve lost my marbles if I ask you this.”

  “I hear and see some pretty weird things in my job. I doubt you’ll shock me.”

  “Okay, but you must promise not to repeat this to anyone. Not even Jack.”

  “I promise.”

  “I think something is wrong with me.”

  “Are you ill?”

  “Not ill exactly. I just keep getting these weird urges.”

  “What kind of urges?” Did I really want to know?

  “I’m afraid this is going to sound gross.”

  “Come on, Megan, you may as well tell me now.”

  “I keep wondering what it would be like to—err—well, to bite someone’s neck, and drink their blood.” She covered her face with her hands. “You must think I’m a complete whack job.”

  “Not at all. We all have crazy thoughts sometimes. I occasionally think I’m a witch with magical powers.”

  “Do you really, Jill?” She looked up. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

  “No, it’s true. I think most people have thoughts like that—they just don’t admit to them.”

  “You don’t think I’m turning into a vampire, then?”

  “No more than I am a witch.”

  “Phew! What a relief. I’m so glad I spoke to you.”

  “Okay, well, I’d better get going.”

  “Thanks again, Jill.”

  “No problem.”

  Oh bum! I felt another visit to WashBets coming on.

  While I’d been in Megan’s house, Jack had arrived home.

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to find another cleaner, Jill?” He had the dustpan and brush in his hands.

  “No. I’m going to do it myself.”

  “There’s what looks like animal fur all over the kitchen floor. You didn’t bring that mangy old cat of yours here today, did you?”

  “Of course I didn’t, and Winky isn’t mangy.”

  “Where did all this fur come from, then?”

  I shrugged.

  When Gloria had come over to collect Furball, she’d brought some of his favourite biscuits with her. He must have shed the fur while he was eating them in the kitchen.

  It was time to change the subject.r />
  “Some of our neighbours are leaving,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “Mr Kilbride. He’s fed up of the train-wars with Mr Hosey.”

  “It’s a pity we can’t get rid of both of them.”

  “And Blake and Jen.”

  “Really? I’ll be sorry to see them go. Why are they leaving?”

  “They’re going to manage a pub in Northumberland.”

  “Sometimes, I think we should throw all of this in, and make a new start somewhere else.”

  “Doing what?”

  “We could open a bowling shop. That would be great, wouldn’t it?”

  “Let me think. No, it would be terrible. Talking of shops. Grandma has changed the name of her shop to just Ever, and has closed down all the yarn sales. It is now a destination.”

  “What’s that exactly?”

  “It’s basically the old shop minus the wool, but with lots more red trouser suits.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Not as sorry as Kathy is. She’s no longer a shop assistant or a manager. She is now officially an Everette.”

  “A what?”

  “An Everette, and she has to wear a horrible, red trouser suit.”

  “You shouldn’t laugh, Jill.”

  “I know.” I grabbed my phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Shush.” I waited for Kathy to pick up. “Kathy, it’s me. Are you back home?”

  “Yes, thank goodness. My feet are killing me.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that. It isn’t fair what Grandma has done.”

  “Maria and Chloe are fed up too. Why did you call?”

  “Are you still wearing your uniform?”

  “I haven’t had time to change yet. I was just about to do it when you called.”

  “Would you do me a favour?”

  “What?”

  “Could you get Peter or one of the kids, to take a photo of you in your Everette trouser suit? I want to show it to Jack. Kathy? Kathy?” She’d hung up.

  What a spoilsport!

  Chapter 13

  The next morning when I arrived at work, I had to struggle to get through the door because something was blocking it. When I eventually managed to force it open, and squeeze inside, I realised what the problem was. The outer office was full of tall potted plants—hundreds of them. I couldn’t see anything for the foliage. There did however seem to be a narrow winding path through the jungle, so I followed it until I arrived at Jules’ desk.