Witch Is Why The Owl Returned (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 21)

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Witch Is Why The Owl Returned (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 21) Page 14

by Adele Abbott


  Either I was a very slow walker, or the app wasn’t particularly accurate because it took me almost twenty-five minutes to reach Caroline’s house; an end terraced with a small, but beautifully maintained front garden.

  I knocked on the door; it opened so quickly it made me jump.

  “Sorry if I scared you.” The woman who answered the door had curlers in her hair. “I was just coming out to look for the cat. You haven’t seen her, have you?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Can I help you?”

  I found it curious how different people reacted to seeing a sup. Some were visibly shocked while others, such as this woman, seemed barely to notice.

  “Does Caroline live here?”

  “Caroline is my daughter. Who are you?”

  “My name is Jill Gooder. I live in the human world.”

  “You’re not dead, then?”

  “Dead? Err—no.”

  “I didn’t realise that the non-dead were able to visit us now, but then I don’t keep up with the news. What do you want with Caroline?”

  “My niece goes to school in Washbridge. That’s in the human world.”

  “I know where Washbridge is. I used to live there before I came here.”

  “Sorry. Anyway, my niece and Caroline are—err—friends, I suppose.”

  “What’s your niece’s name?”

  “Lizzie.”

  “Why didn’t you say so before? Caroline is always talking about Lizzie. She says they are BFFs—whatever that means.”

  “Best friends forever.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  “Is Caroline okay?”

  “She’s been laid up in bed with the flu, but she’s a lot better now. She’s been worried that Lizzie might think she’d abandoned her.”

  “I told Lizzie that Caroline was probably on holiday, but I wanted to check for myself.”

  “Why don’t you come in, and see her?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “Of course. She’s over the worst now. Come in.”

  I followed her into the lounge where a little girl was lying on the sofa, watching TV.

  “Turn that down, Caroline. You have a visitor.”

  Caroline muted the TV.

  “I’m Jill. Lizzie is my niece.”

  “Lizzie?” Her face lit up. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine, but she’s been a little worried about you.”

  “I’ve had the flu, but I’m better now. I can go out again tomorrow, can’t I, Mum?”

  “Yes, you should be able to.”

  “That’s great.” I smiled. “I’ll let Lizzie know.”

  “Would you give her something from me?” Caroline held up a small beanie ghost.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I bought it especially for her.”

  “That’s very kind, thank you. It was nice to meet you, Caroline, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  Her mother showed me back to the door. “Thank you for calling around.”

  “No problem. Do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “What’s that?”

  “What connection does Caroline have to Lizzie’s school?”

  “It’s the school she used to attend before the accident. She and I were in a car crash, and—err—well—we didn’t make it.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. We’re really happy here, and Caroline still gets to visit her old school.”

  “Tell Caroline thanks again for the beanie.”

  ***

  I was starving, and would have killed for a muffin, but I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I would get at Spooky Wooky. The last time I’d seen Harry and Larry, I’d told them that their suspicions regarding Stewey Dewey were completely wrong. Would they still be upset with me? My muffin cravings were too strong to ignore, so I decided to take my chances, and hope that the two guys wouldn’t refuse to serve me.

  “Jill! I’m so glad you’ve called in.” Harry greeted me with a huge smile.

  That was promising.

  “We were going to call you later.” Larry joined him behind the counter.

  “I wasn’t sure if the two of you would be speaking to me or not.”

  “We owe you an apology,” Harry said.

  Larry nodded. “We were so angry about what happened that we jumped to conclusions. We’d heard that Stewey was at the scene of the fire, and had been questioned by the police, so we just assumed he was behind it.”

  “That’s right,” Harry said. “But since you put us right, we’ve done a lot of research, and we clearly misjudged the poor man. He tried to save us, and has lost everything since then.”

  “He is in a bad way.”

  “We want to put this right,” Harry said. “We’ve discussed it, and we’ve agreed that we owe Stewey that much.”

  “How do you mean: put it right?”

  “We need to let him see that we’re doing okay, so he doesn’t continue to live his life blaming himself for our deaths.”

  “Hold on. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  “We want to speak to Stewey.”

  “But to do that, he’d have to let you attach yourselves to him. I can’t see him doing that.”

  “He might if you speak to him.”

  “I suppose I could try, but to be honest, he’s not in a very good place at the moment. If I start talking about ghosts, that might just push him over the edge.”

  “Please, Jill. Will you at least try? We’ve messed this up badly, and we want to put things right.”

  “Okay, I’ll give it a go, but I’m making no promises. I’ll need something from you first, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A blueberry muffin and a caramel latte.”

  “Coming up. And they’re on the house.”

  Music to my ears.

  ***

  After I’d finished my freebie muffin and coffee, I magicked myself back to the high street in Washbridge because I wanted to pick up a sandwich.

  What? It was for my lunch, later. Sheesh.

  As I was walking towards my office, I happened across Norman, who was standing outside his shop.

  “Morning, Norman.”

  Wait for it. Any moment now.

  “Oh? Yeah. Morning.”

  There you go.

  “I’m glad I’ve seen you, Jill.”

  “You are?” I was just amazed that he’d remembered my name.

  “I wanted to thank you for telling me about WashBets and Tonya. We went out the other night, and we really hit it off.”

  “That’s great. Does she share your interest in bottle tops?”

  “No. She thinks they’re silly, but she loves maths—just like me.”

  “You like maths?”

  “Yeah. After bottle tops, it’s my biggest interest.”

  Who da thought it? “That’s good to hear, Norman.”

  “I feel like I owe you one, Jill. If there’s anything I can do in return, please let me know.”

  “Now you come to mention it, there is one thing.”

  ***

  Jules and Gilbert were in the office.

  “Hello, you two.”

  “Gilbert has only popped in to bring me a sandwich for lunch.”

  “That’s okay. I’m glad I caught you together. I have something for you.” I took the tickets from my bag and handed them to Gilbert.

  “ToppersCon tickets?” He was beside himself with excitement. “Look, Jules!”

  “Great.” She seemed rather less enthusiastic.

  “Where did you get these?” Gilbert asked. “They’re like gold dust.”

  “From Norman who owns Top Of The World. He and I are old friends.”

  “Thank you so much.” Gilbert gave me a hug. “I suppose I’d better get going. See you later, Jules.”

  “Bye.”

  As soon as he was out of the door, Jules glared at me.

  “What?”

&nbs
p; “Thanks very much, Jill. Now I have to go to that stupid convention.”

  Whoops. Snigger.

  Chapter 19

  Winky was dressed as a cowboy.

  The most worrying aspect of that was the fact that I wasn’t even slightly surprised. I’d now got to a point where finding my cat dressed as a cowboy no longer affected me. What did that say about my life?

  In the centre of the office, was a camera mounted on a tripod. I watched, mesmerised, as Winky stood in front of the sofa, and then pressed a button on his little gizmo, to take a photo of himself.

  “Go on then. I’ll bite. What’s with the cowboy outfit?”

  “This? Nothing. I just fancied a change. How do I look?”

  “Pretty good, actually.” Credit where it was due. The cowboy-look definitely suited him.

  My phone rang. When I answered, I was met with an automated, robotic voice.

  “This is a call from HMP Westerton. Are you prepared to accept this call from inmate Conrad Landers? Press ‘1’ for yes or ‘2’ for no.”

  I pressed ‘1’.

  “Hello? Is that Jill Gooder?”

  “Speaking.”

  “It’s Conrad Landers. My mother said you wanted to speak to me.”

  “That’s right. Thanks for calling. I’m working on a missing person case—Angie Potts.”

  “I remember the case. I was questioned about it. Why are you working on that twenty years on?”

  “Her mother is still desperate to know what happened to her.”

  “I don’t see how I can help. I didn’t have anything to do with it; just like I didn’t have anything to do with Patty Lake’s murder.”

  “I understand you were offered some kind of plea bargain?”

  “I turned it down. They wanted me to plead guilty to something I hadn’t done. I never laid a hand on Patty.”

  “You did date her, though?”

  “Not for long, and it was months before she was killed. She dumped me.”

  “Why?”

  “For someone else, but I don’t know who. Look, the only reason I was convicted was because her blood-stained top was found in my locker at the garage where I worked. I’m not a violent man. I would never hurt anyone.”

  “You must see why the discovery of the blood-stained top would make you a prime suspect?”

  “Of course I can, but I didn’t put it in there.”

  “Who do you think did?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’ve had twenty years to think about it, but I still don’t have a clue.”

  “How did you meet Patty?”

  “She was a receptionist at the garage for a while.”

  “What exactly did the police ask you about Angie Potts?”

  “They didn’t ask many questions. They more or less insinuated that I must have killed her, and said because I was going to prison for the rest of my life anyway, that I might as well confess.”

  “What did you say?”

  “What do you think I said? I told them to do one. That’s the problem with the police. They’re more interested in locking someone up—anyone—than they are in finding the person who actually committed the crime. Patty Lake’s murderer is still out there, and who knows, he could have killed again. Maybe he killed Angie Potts too.”

  “Did you know Angie?”

  “No. I’d never heard of her until the police questioned me about her.”

  Just then, the automated voice came on the line to warn us we had only thirty seconds left.

  “Thanks for talking to me, Conrad.”

  “No problem. I hope you turn up something that will help me.”

  I had no idea what to make of any of that. He didn’t sound like a guilty man, and there can’t be many murderers who wouldn’t have jumped at the chance of a plea bargain in his position. Unfortunately, nothing he had told me had got me any closer to finding Angie Potts.

  “Jill.” Jules appeared in the doorway. “I have someone out there who wants to see you. She says her name is Lolly.”

  Great! That was all I needed. “Give me a minute, and then bring her through, would you?”

  “Hey, Cowboy Joe,” I called to Winky.

  “You called, ma’am?” He tipped his Stetson.

  “Have you had any more feedback from your guys?”

  “You mean my posse?”

  “Yeah. Any more info on the Lolly Jolly situation?”

  “Her boyfriend hasn’t been anywhere near her over the weekend.”

  “Right. It looks like the problem has resolved itself. Lolly will be pleased.”

  “Jill!” Lolly was wearing her usual lollipop-themed attire. “Thanks for seeing me.”

  “No problem.”

  She did a double take at Winky. “Why is your cat dressed like a cowboy?”

  “They were all out of pirate costumes.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s just a thing I like doing. Dressing up the cat.”

  “Right?” Lolly took a seat. “I’m back because my ex has been at it again. Every time I look around, there he is.”

  “Are you saying that your boyfriend has been stalking you again?”

  “Yes. It’s getting worse and worse. Did you follow him like you said you would? Where else has he been? What’s he been doing? Has he been seen with anyone else?”

  “I’m really sorry, Lolly, but I’ve been run off my feet. I didn’t get a chance to follow him.”

  “You promised you would, Jill.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  “Can you do it now?”

  “I’m still very busy.”

  “Please, Jill. For the sake of our friendship.”

  “Okay. I’ll try to get onto it this week.”

  “Thanks, Jill.” She stood up. “I want to know everything he’s up to.”

  “Okay.”

  “Bye, cowboy,” she called to Winky, as she made for the door.

  “Lolly, you haven’t forgotten about my retainer, have you? It’s three hundred pounds.”

  “Of course not, but I don’t have my purse with me just now. I’ll sort you out next time.”

  As soon as she’d gone, I turned to Winky. “I thought your posse said her boyfriend had been nowhere near her?”

  “He hasn’t. She’s lying. Even I can see that, and I’m just a cat. A cool, cowboy cat it’s true, but still a cat.”

  My phone rang; it was Ella Brand.

  “Jill, I have fantastic news.”

  “Alfie?”

  “Yes. He’s back. When I went into the shed this morning, he was in his cage.”

  “How is he?”

  “He seems okay. His feathers looked a shade lighter, but that was probably just my imagination. It’s so wonderful to have him back.”

  “I’m really thrilled for you.”

  “Thanks for your help, Jill.”

  “I didn’t really do anything.”

  “Still, you must send me a bill for the time you spent on this.”

  “Okay.”

  I had no intention of doing that. The charity had hardly any money as it was, and I didn’t want Ella to pay me out of her own pocket when she’d already poured so much money into the bird sanctuary. Graham Clawson and the OSA had come through for Alfie. Hopefully, they would be able to cover for him until such time as he was up and about again.

  ***

  I’d promised to help the twins to choose a fish tank for Cuppy C. I hadn’t seen them since the Timmy/Tammy fiasco, and I fully expected them to be in a deep, dark depression.

  I couldn’t have been any more wrong.

  “Hi, Jill!” Amber beamed.

  “Muffin, Jill?” Pearl was just as upbeat.

  Colour me confused.

  “You two are very chipper.”

  “Why wouldn’t we be? We’re excited about picking our fish tank.”

  “I thought that maybe last Friday would still be playing on your minds?”

  “Friday? Oh, you mean the book signing?”
/>   “Yeah. The shop was so full that I couldn’t get inside, but I did bump into Timmy.”

  “What a mix up.” Amber laughed.

  “I’m very impressed by how well you’re both taking this. It can’t have been easy when you discovered it wasn’t Tammy?”

  “We thought we were in trouble at first, but that was until the audience saw Timmy’s book.”

  “A Hundred Things to do with Asparagus?”

  “Yeah. It turns out that the culinary contingent of Candlefield have been starved of good asparagus-related books. Timmy had sold out within an hour. He had to take the names and addresses of those who missed out.”

  “Wasn’t anyone peeved because it wasn’t Tammy Winestock?”

  “If they were, they didn’t say anything to us. They were more interested in who we’d be booking next.”

  “That’s fantastic.”

  “Would you like a muffin?”

  “Does a cat like to dress up as a cowboy?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Never mind. Yes. I’ll take the usual blueberry and a cup of tea, please.”

  While Amber was getting my order, I spotted Mindy, sitting by the window.

  “There you go.” Amber passed me the muffin.

  “I see Mindy’s here?” I said in a hushed voice.

  “She came in the other day, to apologise for all the stuff that has gone on between us. She asked if we’d mind if she came in from time to time. We could hardly say no, could we? She seems so down in the dumps.”

  Amber was right. Mindy looked as though she’d just lost the winning lottery ticket.

  “Do you mind if I join you, Mindy?”

  She looked up, and forced a smile. “Sure.”

  “How are things?”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “You’ve finished with Miles?”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t want to accept it. He keeps pestering me to get back with him.”

  “Will you?”

  “Never. I’m done with that man.”

  “Where are you living?”

  “With my sister, but don’t tell Miles. I don’t want him to come around there.”

 

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