Wonder Wand Way (Witch of Mintwood Book 10)

by Addison Creek

  “Okay,” said Greer.

  Charlie sighed some more and ate a few bites of soup. I started talking to fill the silence. “Just because the ownership is in question doesn’t mean we won’t be able to figure out who the group is that meets in Mrs. Barnett’s after hours. Next time there’s a meeting, I’m definitely going with you.”

  I had already decided that. If everything hadn’t gotten so crazy I would have gone with her for the most recent stakeout at Miss Violetta’s. I really wasn’t a fan of getting my information secondhand.

  “The owner is up for debate, but I also looked into Mrs. Barnett’s husband,” said Charlie.

  “No wonder Mrs. Barnett is wary of you,” said Greer.

  “She knows I appreciate a good investigation,” said Charlie.

  “What exactly did you find in the property records that was so interesting?” I said. I wanted her to get to the point. If there was one.

  She shook her head. “They’re devastatingly complicated. It’s really going to require some careful attention. But that’s not what I found that was so interesting. What I found that was so interesting was who Mr. Barnett worked for before he retired,” she said.

  “If you don’t get to the point I’m going to start throwing broccoli at you,” Greer threatened.

  “Why did you pick broccoli specifically? Why not a carrot?” Charlie asked.

  “It’s the closest to hand,” Greer growled.

  “That’s fair,” said Charlie.

  “Why do you always have to be a detective?” her friend asked.

  “It’s who I am,” she said.

  “Who did he work for?” I said, getting to the end of my patience.

  “For over thirty years he worked for Mr. Wolf,” said Charlie.

  A bit of steam rose in front of her face from the broccoli and cheddar soup. The gray mist made it look like it was a prophet eating that meal, as well as a human being.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. I really shouldn’t. Still, as the words came out of her mouth they shook me. I couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Of course he did. That means it makes perfect sense that hunters are meeting in her café,” said Greer.

  “Do you think she knows what they are?” I asked. It still seemed quite strange that Mrs. Barnett would give permission to a group to meet at midnight, or that a group would need to meet at midnight in her café in the first place.

  “Who knows,” said Greer. “But if her husband worked for Mr. Wolf for all those years, then they are well aware of the power structure around here. He’s at the top, and everyone else is below him. If he gave his longtime employee’s wife a café to run, I can only wonder why. That’s not really common, is it?”

  It was a rhetorical question, and I didn’t try to answer it. Instead I wondered, “Do we think he’s the one who owns all of downtown?”

  “It’s still hard to say,” Greer observed. “He’s certainly rich enough for it. The only trouble is, he doesn’t seem like the secretive sort. I have a feeling that if he owned the downtown, not only would he want everybody to know, he’d be charging everybody extra.”

  I couldn’t argue with her logic there, but I also had to recognize that we still didn’t have any real answers.

  Charlie would just need to find out more. Luckily for us, that was definitely her plan.

  I shook my head. “Let me know if you need any help. Paws might be able to go places that we can’t.”

  Charlie nodded. “I’d hate to send him into danger.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Greer muttered.

  “There’s nothing else you can do about it tonight anyway,” said Charlie. “I just wanted to let you know. I’m still mostly busy with other stuff. I just had a few minutes at the end of the day. All our files are such a mess. I wish we had Hansen’s system. Don’t ever tell him I said that!”

  We finished dinner quickly and headed for the Beetle. Paws had kindly appeared on the porch, looking as smug as usual.

  “What is it?” I asked him. “No gold tonight?”

  “Honolulu prefers silver,” he said.

  “Silver looks very pretty on you,” said Charlie.

  “Doesn’t everything?” he asked.

  When we reached Bright Lights I didn’t want to waste any time, so I parked right out front. Liam had said he’d come over and help as soon as he could. I figured we had precious little time to find Mr. Curtain and interview him before Liam arrived.

  Luckily for us, Paws had somehow gotten word to Honolulu, who was waiting for us outside the cinema.

  “So nice to see you all again. Thank you so much for inviting me on this adventure. It’s been too long,” she said.

  “It is always too long when I haven’t seen you,” said Paws.

  Honolulu blushed.

  “We need your help finding a ghost. He’s inside this building at this very moment. He owned the theater before he died. We have some questions for him. We think he might have been murdered,” I said.

  “Anything I can do to help. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me over the years. I would very much like to return the favor,” said Honolulu.

  We told her in turn how much we appreciated her offer, then I unlocked the side door and we headed inside.

  The place looked exactly as we had left it. In the cavernous lobby were the few boxes of random stuff we had managed to bring down so far. It wouldn’t be long before we had to ask for help from Deacon to do some of the heavy lifting.

  I had a suspicion that we were also going to ask Hansen for help. We just wouldn’t tell Charlie until it was too late for her to stop us.

  “Honolulu and I will just start looking for the errant ghost. You all feel free to get to work. Chop, chop,” said Paws, hustling the other ghost cat away.

  “Are you sure that makes the most sense?” Greer called after him.

  Paws stopped dead. He had clearly been trying to avoid this conversation, while Greer was clearly trying to have it.

  “We can’t very well help you move any of the boxes. What we can do is go where you can’t. If Mr. Curtain is about, he won’t be so concerned if he sees two ghost cats wandering the hallways. You, on the other hand, everybody should be concerned about,” said the cat.

  “Be nice,” Honolulu said.

  “I am nice. This is me being nice,” protested Paws.

  “At least he isn’t lying,” said Greer. “Very well. Let us know when you find him. We’ll be in the theater upstairs doing the real work.”

  We made our way up the stairs into the main theater. The ghost cats had already disappeared by the time we reached the second landing. I hoped they’d be all right. Paws never gave me the feeling that he wouldn’t be, so I had faith.

  “I really don’t know who thought it was a good idea to store so much stuff in here, but I would like to talk to them,” said Charlie.

  It really was an amazing building. As I contemplated the project we had taken on, it helped a lot to know that the building wouldn’t be torn down. As a historical site, it was definitely worth the effort of clearance and restoration. What could be done to fix the place up I didn’t know, but maybe a revamped theater would make sense. Performances were always appreciated in Mintwood, especially in the summer.

  Once we started working I got into an organizing flow. It was a relief to have something to concentrate on. For the first time since Jasper had left, I went for entire minutes without thinking about him. Instead of brooding about him, I was looking through old photographs and laughing.

  I looked at one old magazine after another and admired how much the glossy images had changed over the years. Pictures had once been more conservative, that was for sure.

  There was also an incredible amount of useful furniture to sort through. Sometimes I wondered, if everybody took the furniture out of their basements and turned it all into a store, how big the space would have to be to hold it all.

  My grandmother wasn’t one to put furniture in the basement, mostl
y because she left it cluttering the living areas of the farmhouse instead. When she was alive this annoyed me, but now that she was gone and I missed her, I kind of appreciated running into the coffee table, or the ottoman, or the other ottoman, from time to time.

  “What do you think happened to the cats?” Charlie asked after a while.

  I wasn’t sure how long we’d been working, but it was long enough so that we had made a decent dent in the collection of stuff on the stage.

  “With any luck, they’ve gotten lost forever,” said Greer.

  “That can’t happen until after we’ve talked to Mr. Curtain,” I said.

  “All right,” said Greer. “I forgot we were here investigating a potential murder. Hopefully Honolulu can keep Paws in line, because otherwise it doesn’t look like we’re ever going to get any information out of Mr. Curtain.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Paws asked.

  He came trotting into the theater with his tail high, signaling that he was proud of himself. Hopefully it also signaled that he had found our missing ghost. There was no sign of Honolulu, so the first thing I did was to ask him where she was.

  “We found your ghost man. He was busy rearranging everything that he had already rearranged. Honolulu decided to keep him company while I came to get you lot. I even warned him that you’d be coming back with me, and he didn’t seem to mind. Clearly he doesn’t know you yet. Once she explained who you were, he was eager to speak with you,” Paws told me.

  I promptly set down the pair of mismatched shoes I had just picked up. I would just have to find their matches later. “Let’s go.”

  Paws led the way and we left the stage. The lights were still on in the lobby, and I didn’t feel the least bit creeped out, probably because we now knew where Mr. Curtain was, so we also knew he wouldn’t be causing any trouble.

  What we didn’t know was the story. We were about to find that out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Paws led us backstage, past the mirrors and the make-up stands used by the actors and actresses when the theater had been used for plays. Behind all of that was an assortment of small, dark spaces. Most of the nooks and crannies were packed with more piles of random stuff. In some, though, curtains were thrown over everything and we couldn’t see what was behind them.

  There was a layer of dust on the floor everywhere we went, and bits of trash scattered around. I saw old playbills and old scripts, and behind me I heard Greer mutter something about birds’ nests.

  “I hope not,” said Charlie.

  “There are no birds in here,” said Paws.

  “How do you know?” Charlie asked.

  “Because I’ve been looking. There are no birds, nor any evidence of birds,” said Paws. “Honolulu thinks it’s weird too, so you don’t have to take my word for it.”

  “Good, because I had no intention of doing that,” said Greer.

  “Here we are,” and Paws. He had led us around the corner to an area where there appeared to be several offices. In the last one, I saw a faint glow.

  We had found Mr. Curtain.

  As the owner of the theater, he had maintained an office back here. He was currently sitting at a desk in the cramped space, staring at the papers on his desk.

  Once again the force of how much he had cared about this place hit me. For his ghost to still be present and still working required an incredible amount of dedication of spirit. He really must have loved this place.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Curtain?” I asked.

  Honolulu was sitting on the desk next to him, and the two of them were deep in conversation. At the sound of my voice the ghost looked up.

  “Please, come in. Thanks for searching me out. Sorry it’s taken us so long to chat. Been busy with all of this stuff.” He waved his hand at the paperwork.

  I frowned. Ghosts couldn’t move physical objects easily.

  “Have you been working?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Something tells me these papers are important, but I can’t remember why. Maybe before you leave you can put some new ones on top for me.”

  “Sure,” I said, “but in the meantime I’m just glad we can finally talk. I squeezed into the tiny office and looked around.

  Mr. Curtain had a couple of folding chairs against the wall that looked like they hadn’t been used in years. The chair across from his desk was piled high with papers. There was also a small couch against the wall, which was also piled high with stuff.

  “Feel free to do whatever you want. Have a seat,” he said.

  I started to remove the papers from the chair in front of his desk, while Charlie and Greer went over to folding chairs. As they moved them, the chairs let out huge squeaks.

  “That’s probably why there are no birds in here. Noises like that have frightened them away,” said Paws dully.

  “Everybody was welcome to watch a movie here. I definitely used to have people bring their dogs. Other animals were more unusual,” Mr. Curtain chuckled. “There was one lady who always used to bring her little dog. Sometimes dogs were a problem, but not this one. He was a cute fellow. He would sit quietly and watch the entire movie. He just loved it. All bets were off when a cat came on the screen.”

  “We do tend to inspire strong reactions,” said Honolulu pleasantly.

  “You do, more so than dogs, I feel,” said Mr. Curtain. “Cats are either loved or hated. I loved them, mind. There used to be a stray cat around the neighborhood who would come around begging for food. I would leave out a little bowl of water for him. I just couldn’t leave it out for long because the dogs would come by and drink it up, even though I always had their own bigger bowl out for them. I miss those days,” he said wistfully.

  I hadn’t really expected to come here and hear about the canines and other animals Mr. Curtain had dealt with over the years. Here he was, reminiscing about everything from dogs to movies and moviegoers.

  “What’s brought you here, anyway?” he asked.

  “I had heard the story of the cinema. I had no idea that a ghost might still be here. It’s very unusual,” I told him.

  He nodded. “I suppose. There’s something unusual about this place. I would never leave. It’s the last thing on my mind. Anyhow, you came here to find me?” he asked.

  “My grandmother was the witch before me. I don’t think she liked the movies that much, but I’m still kind of surprised that she didn’t come looking for you,” I said.

  “Oh, she sure did come looking for me. She was very concerned about it for a while. I made sure to hide whenever she came around, and she never came close to finding me. No one can find me in this place if I don’t want them to. I know every secret about it. My father built it board by board, after all,” he said.

  I frowned at him in surprise. Even Paws looked like he was trying not to glare.

  “Why would you make my grandmother go to all that trouble?” I asked. “I’m sure she spent a lot of time trying to find you.”

  “I know she did, and I’m sorry for it. I really didn’t understand my circumstances at the time. It took me a long time to wonder if I had been murdered or not. At first I thought I had just died, and I was ashamed of that. There was work to be done. I couldn’t open the pictures that weekend. It was awful,” the ghost explained.

  My friends and I exchanged looks of surprise. Given all the things there were in life to feel guilty about, that was a new one.

  “So you hid until she stopped looking?” I asked.

  He shrugged. He was clearly uncomfortable with this line of inquiry. “I wasn’t sure whom to trust anymore. At first she came looking and I didn’t want to believe that I had died. Then I started to wonder about my passing. And in the end I just wanted to stay here and take care of things.”

  “So you now suspect that you were murdered?” Charlie asked.

  “I don’t remember. I assume that’s common with ghosts. If we did remember, you wouldn’t have a job. I don’t know. Of course I was old and everybody would think I
just died of old age. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t actually murdered,” he said. “No one had any real idea.”

  “What makes you think you were murdered, then?” I asked.

  He had clearly thought about all of this a great deal, and who could blame him? He’d had plenty of time to chew on it.

  “Mostly just a feeling I had at the time. This town was very important to me. It was everything. I never distrusted anybody. Then all of a sudden I got worried. I thought someone might have it in for me.

  “Makes me think there was something going on around town. Something that I should remember now, but I don’t. I’ve spent all the years since I died trying to figure out what I was thinking before I passed, with no luck. Now I’m sure it’s lost to me forever.”

  I slowly nodded my head. The air smelled like dust and I was trying not to cough. This place was stuffy. I supposed that fact wouldn’t bother a ghost.

  The information Mr. Curtain offered didn’t surprise me. It was one of those common occurrences with ghosts. They’d been murdered, but they didn’t know why; they couldn’t remember what they had known or done that had prompted somebody to kill them. They also couldn’t remember their actual deaths.

  “There were no signs of trauma to your body, and you were in your late eighties, right? So nobody thought much of it at the time. Do you remember eating or drinking anything before you were killed?” I asked.

  Mr. Curtain appeared to think about this question; the concrete information about how his death had been regarded at the time was new to him. “Well, now that you mention it, in those days I always got breakfast at the diner. Heard it closed too, but it was a constant in my life in those days. Probably closed because I wasn’t paying them for breakfast every morning, to be honest. Lovely people worked there. I went to high school with them. I don’t think they would’ve done anything.

  “Lunch I brought myself. Usually made myself a sandwich and brought an apple along for good measure. I’d have a handful of dates or nuts in the afternoon. I’m a simple man and I always liked simple meals.