The Rhinestone Witches Omnibus: Books 1-3

by Addison Creek

  “So it is you. I wasn’t certain,” she said, peering at me. “I’ve seen you from a distance. Everyone was excited that there was a hidden Rhinestone.”

  “Almost everyone,” said Lowe.

  “Right. I wasn’t counting the queens. They didn’t want any challenges to their power,” Pebbles agreed.

  She was a pudgy blond with thick ankles and knees that pointed sideways instead of straight. She wore a washed out pink dress and she looked tired.

  Her apartment was a disaster, though I suppose Sammy was half to blame since she had lived here too. The room smelled vaguely like smoke, and I saw several empty bottles cluttering the kitchen counter.

  “Come on in,” she said. “Just cleared the sofa off for that sheriff.”

  Indeed, waiting for us to sit on it was a stained sofa, positioned under a window with enough smudges on the glass to rival the sofa. Lowe and I sat down. Pebbles sat in a threadbare armchair and lit a cigarette. The whole place was sad, poor, and dirty.

  “So, it was at your party that Sammy died? I told the sheriff I didn’t know anything. Sammy and I weren’t close,” she said.

  “Why did you think we weren’t who we said we were?” I asked.

  Pebbles scoffed. “That’s just good sense. I mean, first of all, Sammy was murdered. There’s whoever did it, there are reporters, there are all sorts who might have a reason to fake their way in here. Not to mention that this place isn’t exactly the nicest to begin with. All kinds could be throwing your name around in hopes that it would open the door.” Pebbles heaved a large sigh.

  “I see. Do you know what Sammy was doing at that party?” Lowe asked.

  Pebbles was about to say something, then she stopped as she realized something else. “Are you telling me she wasn’t invited? Here I was thinking that my roommate was holding out on me. She knew members of one of the founding families, and a decent one at that, and she never mentioned it!”

  “Neither of us invited her. We had friends invite people they knew, but so far we haven’t found out who asked her to be there,” I explained.

  Pebbles was nodding.

  “Can you tell us anything?” Lowe asked.

  “Well, Sammy had gotten a bit happier recently. We had been living together for about five months, and she was stressed all the time. Then about a month ago I came home and she had bought champagne and pre-made cheese balls. All cheap, mind, but still. Sammy usually lived on rice crackers and peanut butter. She said she wanted to celebrate, then popped the champagne.

  “I’m not one to turn down a drink, so I had some. She said that in a few months she’d be able to afford the real stuff, the fermented fairy drink. That stuff is good. I’ve only ever had it once. I asked her if she had gotten a job, and she said she had. She was going to be a conductor for the trolley company and was in training already. She would work the night shift and go on from there if everything went well. I asked her how much the job paid. She was vague, except she said it was really good money. I wasn’t going to argue with her. What did I know? After that she seemed better. She worked a lot, in fact” said Pebbles. Her eyes were distant as she remembered her roommate.

  “Did she have any friends? Anyone who came over?” I asked.

  Pebbles shook her head. “I kept waiting for her to make a friend at the trolley company, but she said they were all older. I guess the guy from storage was nice. One night she got all dressed up to go out. I thought she might be meeting coworkers, but she didn’t say, and she didn’t come back too happy anyhow. I was on the sofa when she left and still there when she got back. Sometimes I fall asleep there. In fact, she came back pretty upset. I didn’t ask her about it at the time because I was too tired. She was gone in the morning before I got up,” said Pebbles.

  “When was that?” I asked.

  Our host took a puff of her cigarette and thought. Purple smoke obscured her face. “You know, now that you mention it, it was just a couple of days ago. Not long at all. I don’t think I saw her again after that,” she added. She sighed and tapped the cigarette on the ashtray next to her chair. “I’ll have to clean out her room. There isn’t much in there. She said she’d buy stuff when she’d been at the job longer. You can take a look if you like.”

  Lowe and I got up and went to the door Pebbles pointed out, which stood open. When she said there wasn’t much in there, Pebbles wasn’t lying: a threadbare blue rug and a cot on the floor, and that was it.

  Lowe went over to the bed and felt around. It seemed almost random, but she immediately found something under the pillow and pulled it out.

  “It’s a necklace!” she whispered, stuffing it quickly into her pocket. We glanced at the door, wondering if Pebbles had heard us. When she made no sign, we went back out of the room as if we hadn’t found anything of interest at all.

  “Thanks so much for your time,” I told Pebbles.

  She stood up and nodded. “Sure thing. Glad to see you care about what happened. It’s always hard to tell. Say, how’s that trailer park you all live near? I’m thinking I might need a change of scenery.” She glared around the room, and I couldn’t exactly blame her.

  “It’s good,” I said quickly. “Everyone is awesome there. They’re always having dinners and bonfires outside.”

  “The rumors always say it’s crime-ridden, but I looked it up and there’s literally none. Unlike in this place,” said Pebbles. “Maybe I’ll see you again, then. Hopefully they’ll find out what happened to Sammy. She didn’t deserve this. She might have been mixed up in something bad, but she was a nice roommate.”

  She showed us to the door. Before we left I turned to her and said, “Say, we saw some individuals who looked like they worked for the gambling rings. Do you know anything about that?”

  Pebbles paled. “Yeah, I avoid them at all costs. A dangerous lot. They loaned some money to a few residents and when it came time for them to pay up, those guys didn’t mess around. I don’t borrow money as a rule. Leads to trouble. That’s all I know. Sammy didn’t seem to know them, but then again I had my own problems, so for all I know she might have.”

  We thanked Pebbles one more time and left. Neither of us said a word about the necklace until we were well away from the apartment complex. I turned to glance back once. At the door of the building we had come out of were the five guys whom Lowe thought were dealers.

  They were watching us.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Let me see that necklace,” I said. Lowe handed it over and I took a good look at it. It was pretty, not cheap but not expensive either. The pendant hanging from the chain was a gold moon.

  “Think this was Sammy’s?” I wondered.

  “Yeah, I think it was something that reminded her of her childhood,” said Lowe. “She needed money and she could have gotten something for this, but she didn’t. It was the only thing in the room, so she obviously kept it specially. When Quinn comes over tonight I’ll give it to him. He’ll make sure it stays with Sammy.” Lowe swiped a tear away and I put my arm around her.

  “It’s so sad!” she said. “Pebbles might have returned it to her, or she might not have seen it at all and it could have gotten thrown away.”

  “I don’t think what she was telling us was a lie. She didn’t know Sammy very well, and I don’t think she knew what Sammy was mixed up in, either,” I mused. “It kind of sounds like Sammy was in over her head. Maybe she got into gambling, fell into debt, and got the job at the trolley company to pay it off,” I suggested.

  “Makes as much sense as any of the rest of this. So why did she get killed at our party?” said Lowe.

  I bit my lip. That part was still a mystery, what she was doing and who had killed her. There had been Vixen vapors involved, or at least vapors of some sort, but that didn’t explain much. There were also the grilling tongs buried in the snow at the side of the house, which seemed to implicate the trailer folk. There were two very different groups indicated there, and neither had any known ties to gambling.

/>   “Let’s get home,” I said. “I need lunch and then I need to meet Jackie and Kelly for the bird feeder project. Hannah won’t forgive us if we don’t complete her assignment, and the meeting is coming right up.”

  “Hannah won’t forgive you no matter what you do,” said Lowe.

  I paid more attention on this trolley ride than I had on my other recent rides. We were heading out of town, so the trolley was nearly empty. The conductor was an older troll with white hair around the nape of his neck and his temples. He had one large eye and one smaller one. Like every other trolley conductor I had come across, this one did not acknowledge me at all.

  We sat down in the back and I started looking around. The seats were glossy and new. The windows were perfectly clean. There was a massive operation behind this trolley company that kept the machines running smoothly and mostly on time.

  “Do you know, I’ve never seen a young female trolley conductor,” I said.

  “Me neither. There have been young men. Women are usually greeters at the trolley museum, though,” said Lowe.

  “There’s a trolley museum?” I said.

  “Yeah, attached to the trolley station where the vehicles are kept, and where conductors go to get their schedules. Training is done there too,” said Lowe.

  “In short, where Sammy worked?” I asked.

  “Exactly. Maybe we should pay that place a visit,” said Lowe.

  “Maybe we should,” I said.

  We were off the trolley when I realized something was wrong at the trailer park.

  Behind the trolley station was a bright green swamp where the muck that covered the surface didn’t freeze even in winter. The place remained as lurid and buzzing as ever, as if in just that one part of Twinkleford it was still July. My daily view in the morning always brought a jolt of ugly reality to me. We lived next to a swamp and we weren’t likely to forget it.

  When we’d left that morning the trailer park had been empty, as quiet as if all the residents had gotten up and left. We had seen a couple of them peeking out around their curtains, so we knew they hadn’t really disappeared, but they had certainly been hiding. Now, as we walked away from the station, I heard yelling.

  Lowe and I exchanged glances. “Think the unicorns are all right?” she asked. We increased our pace.

  “I’m sure they are,” I said. “Tiger would have sent someone after us. Also, no one would yell around the unicorns for very long.” I hoped it was true.

  It didn’t take us long to reach the trailer park, but when we got there my brain could hardly process what I was looking at. A large crowd of people had gathered near the road. I recognized a lot of the trailer park residents.

  At first I couldn’t see what was in the middle of all the turmoil, but then I saw a dark head of hair. The figure was moving quickly, his chin raised.

  “That’s Quinn,” gasped Lowe.

  “What’s he doing?” I asked. We were nearly running now.

  Quinn was making for his official vehicle, which I rarely saw. Like his uniform and his hair, it was black.

  “He has Lester!” Lowe gasped. Indeed, Quinn was walking alongside Lester, the friendly trailer park denizen who loved to grill. Lester’s face was white and his eyes were large as he shuffled along.

  “He’s under arrest!” I gasped. All of this was plain to see. It was so plain, in fact, that everyone in the neighborhood had noticed and come out to yell at Quinn for it.

  Right before he reached his vehicle, his eyes raised to meet mine. For a wild moment I thought about yelling out to tell him to stop, but the words stuck in my throat and the spell was broken. Quinn opened the back of the car and guided Lester in. As he shut the door, rotten fruit started flying. The minute Lester was out of the way, his team had started pelting the arresting sheriff with rotten tomatoes.

  “A time-honored tradition,” Lowe commented, even as she flinched.

  Joy was in the driver’s seat, and Quinn hurried to jump in the car. They didn't linger. Before Quinn had even pulled the door closed the vehicle was speeding away.

  We got out of the road so as not to be in the way. Vehicles were rarely driven in the Misdirect Borough, but today was not most days. Today Quinn Merchant had come to arrest Lester for the murder of Sammy the conductor.

  While Lowe and I stood looking after the van, I felt cold waves of anger surround us. When I turned back toward the crowd of residents, they were glaring daggers at us. Goldie was in the front, her eyes cold.

  I tried to shift out of her direct line of sight, but her eyes followed me. I ordered myself not to be a coward.

  “Let’s get home. If they let us,” Lowe whispered.

  “You don’t think they’d attack us?” I asked.

  We had left this morning on good terms with the residents of the park. Now they didn’t want us walking near them.

  “No, but just because of the cats,” said Lowe.

  We started shuffling forward.

  All the resident kept staring at us.

  “If it weren’t for your grandmother, we’d turn you into wing bats,” Goldie spat out furiously.

  We kept moving. Clearly our neighbors were not in the mood to speak with us just now.

  “We’re almost there,” said Lowe as we inched along. Once we were past them, Lowe started walking backwards so she could keep an eye on them.

  They never looked away. Not one of them turned and left. Their eyes stayed on us until we were around the corner.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As soon as the cottage was in view, we broke into a run. A stream of cats came flying out of the yard, Spunk in the lead, running wildly toward us.

  “We’ll explain later,” Lowe told the animals.

  As we reached the gate I turned to look. The trailer park residents had come to the end of the bend in the road to watch us.

  We dashed into the house. “That was close,” Lowe breathed. “They thought about turning us into tiny bats.”

  “They probably would have if we’d been alone,” I said.

  I knelt down and petted all the cats gratefully. As each one finished getting his or her ears scratched, they wandered toward the kitchen.

  “Spunk tells me we owe them cream,” Lowe explained.

  “Oh, do we now?” I asked in bemusement.

  My stomach rumbled. It was past lunchtime, and if I didn’t hurry I was going to be late for my bird feeder appointment.

  “How am I ever going to get back to the trolley?” I asked.

  Lowe frowned. “Let’s eat lunch and I’ll think about it.”

  We made our way into the kitchen. As had become our routine with Bethel gone, I went to check on the unicorns while Lowe stoked the fire and put the kettle on. When I returned we put together cold sandwiches. As a treat, Lowe made hot chocolate and topped it with spicy peppermint candies.

  “After the morning we’ve had, I think we deserve it,” she said.

  I sat down and started to eat. The only sound in the room was the gentle lapping of cats enjoying their milk.

  “So, does this mean we should stop snooping?” Lowe asked.

  I had been wondering the same thing. “Lester couldn’t possibly have done it. He’s a good fellow. I wonder what proof Quinn has.”

  “Maybe he’ll tell you tonight. Make him some good food, soften him up . . .” Lowe suggested.

  I was about to say one thing, then I said another. “He’s supposed to be doing the cooking.”

  “Of course he is! I’m sure he plotted it that way so you couldn’t bribe him,” huffed Lowe. “Anyway, I’ll get the chores done while you’re out. Let’s not think about what happened for an afternoon.”

  That would be easier said than done. I reminded Lowe that I still had to get past the angry trailer park folk somehow.

  “Oh, right. That. Okay, sure. You just aren’t going to like it.” Lowe frowned down at her empty plate.

  “When you say it like that, I’m definitely not,” I said, only slightly alarmed.
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  “Come with me,” said Lowe. We got dressed again in coats and hats, and I put my boots back on. Lowe led me out the back door and turned toward the shed at the side of the house.

  “There are a few options, but none of them are good. At first I thought you should just make a run for it. Then I thought maybe you should disguise yourself. Then I realized there were really only two options,” she finished.

  She threw the shed doors open, and I gaped. The shed was one of those places we left for Bethel to handle, especially since she didn’t like us poking around in her space. Bottom line, I had never looked inside it. Now that I had, I was amazed at the amount of stuff she had packed into a small space.

  Gardening tools took up one corner. Given that we used the money we made from farmer’s markets to support ourselves, those tools were important. But that was just the beginning.

  There were books and old toys, dishes and glassware, and lots of other things to boot. Including boots.

  “That,” said Lowe, proudly pointing directly in front of us. I followed her gaze to an object that was still far away, given all the junk stacked in the way. What I saw was the old rusting bike that my cousin was offering me as a way to get to town.

  “No way,” I said. “It’s broken.”

  “I mean, not entirely. Certainly not if we use some of Bethel’s herbs.” Lowe meant to convince me, but she didn’t sound entirely convinced herself.

  I glared at my cousin. “I might as well walk over to the trailer park, wave my hands in the air, and tell them I surrender.”

  “Don’t be silly. Then they’ll definitely catch you,” Lowe said.

  “If I ride this bike they’ll definitely catch me anyhow!” I argued.

  “Let’s just get it out and see what we can do,” Lowe said, making her way forward.

  It took us the better part of twenty minutes to get the bike clear. Once it was free, Lowe said I should keep cleaning it off while she went to get the herbs. She came back with her hand stuffed full of something purple.