The Rhinestone Witches Omnibus: Books 1-3

by Addison Creek

  “This place is massive. How will we know where to go?” I was so busy asking the question that I didn’t see Quinn standing there talking to Joy. He saw us immediately. I felt tingles all over my body and my face go red.

  “Found the place alright?” Quinn asked us.

  “We did. Thank you for asking,” said Lowe, sounding cold.

  I glanced at her. She had taken on a different look. Her chin was raised and her eyes were straight ahead.

  “Um, what are you doing?” I whispered to her, even though everyone could hear me.

  “We can’t fraternize with the enemy. Even you,” she told me.

  All around us were different townsfolk waiting to have their cases heard. There was a basilisk saying that he’d only had a little Fairy Flame the night before. He didn’t know why everyone was saying that he tried to sunbathe without clothing at midnight.

  “I don’t even need clothes!” he opined. Clearly arresting deputies disagreed.

  There was a ghost who kept appearing in and out of shackles. “Can’t contain me!” he cried out gleefully.

  “The spirit bottles might,” said a harassed looking lawyer near him. The ghost looked much less pleased with himself after that.

  It went on and on. No one was dressed normally. No one cared that we were there. Lowe continued to ignore Quinn, but I couldn’t.

  “When is our case?” I asked him.

  “We can go in anytime,” he said. “As soon as the doors open.”

  Just as he said it the doors that we were standing close to opened. A flood of townsfolk walked out. None of them said much. One woman whispered as she passed, “Utterly terrifying.”

  The courtroom I spotted through the open doors was like nothing I had ever seen before.

  There were two rows of benches. Each were a bright purple velvet. The carpet was a deep moss green. In the front was a gold table and chair. On each side were bronze chairs that were filled with clerks. There were small windows in the high walled room. There wasn’t much light. All of the focus was on a very small judge. He sat in bright blue robes that clashed with the purple. He was bald and had small spectacles on. At the moment he was writing furiously, yelling at one of the clerks who was also writing furiously, and then writing some more. Someone pushed into my back and I joined the flow of people entering the courtroom. At least nothing was blood red I told myself. This little man looked like where dreams went to die. Bethel was going to be so furious.

  A handful of visitors had stayed in the courtroom from the last case. I realized to my shock that Mr. Fairview was one of them. He gave me a jovial smile. Sitting next to him was a tall and thin individual who could easily be a vampire. He was dressed all in black. He was the sort of man who would expect moss not to grow in a tree simply because he told it not to. And the moss wouldn’t.

  We all took our seats. Lowe was sitting behind the public defender’s side. Quinn touched my back and followed join to the other side. They sat behind their own lawyer.

  The judge scribbled a few more notes and then glanced up.

  “Why are we having this case?” he barked at the sheriff’s lawyer. “You know perfectly well it is our practice to allow sheriffs to search residences. We’ve been moving in that direction for quite some time.”

  My chest tightened and I found it difficult to breathe. This was a no-nonsense judge, no doubt about it. His outbursts made me wonder why Lowe had insisted on this circus in the first place; we might as well have let them do the search for all the power we had to stop them. It turned out that judges were powerful even in the magical world. They didn’t like their time being wasted, as this one clearly felt his was being wasted now.

  The long-suffering court clerk tried to pass the papers for the case to the judge, but he waved them away.

  “Next case,” he barked.

  The much harassed clerk jumped, then looked at him reproachfully. “Sheriff Merchant against Witch Case 7,” she said.

  “In a murder case? No allowance of search on the part of the witch? Is there proof that powerful spells would be disrupted in the event that the sheriffs were allowed in?” the little judge bellowed.

  People who had been foolish enough to sit in the front row leaned back. It looked like a blast of air had hit some of them in the face, and maybe other stuff as well. They leaned back because it was becoming obvious that both physical and psychological space were needed to co-exist with this judge. Not even all the velvet drapery absorbed the noise.

  “Who speaks on behalf of the sheriffs?” asked a harassed-looking lawyer sitting alone at one of the front tables. He rose, sweating and unkempt but not nervous. He was used to all the ruckus.

  “I take it this is a Crown murder?” asked the judge.

  That question gave the lawyer pause. The judge would have had to be living under a rock not to know what murder this case was about. Murders simply didn’t happen in Twinkleford.

  “No,” said the lawyer.

  “Surprising. So many of those Crown folks are due,” muttered the judge.

  I looked around, expecting to see expressions of shock on other faces than mine. I saw none. In fact, hardly anyone even looked surprised. They were used to the judge’s bluster. I swallowed and waited for the hearing to continue.

  “The victim lived in Merigold. The murder took place in . . .”

  The lawyer didn’t get a chance to finish before the judge waved him away. “Doesn’t matter,” he blustered. “I’ve heard no reason why this search shouldn’t go forward. There’s always the Exploding Tulip Nut Defense, but that hasn’t been used in years.”

  Now I noticed an older woman at a table a lot like the one where the sheriff’s lawyer was seated, and suddenly realized that she must be representing us. I told myself to have a serious talk with Lowe as soon as I got the chance. How did these decisions get made, anyhow? And when?

  Looking more like a librarian than a lawyer, the woman stood up and started to say something. But before she could get a word out, the judge jumped in.

  “Are you still practicing, Allie?” he asked. He did not sound pleased.

  “I was before this court just a week ago,” she said tartly.

  “Ah. I must have missed you. Convinced myself you were dead. Maybe that was wishful thinking,” he said. “Surely you don’t like to lose, so I take it you took this case out of the goodness of your heart”

  “At least I can find where mine is,” said Allie.

  A few twitters of laughter erupted behind me.

  “Find where what is?” demanded the judge.

  “There are all kinds of spells a coven family could have around a home that must not be disrupted in the course of an official investigation. To dismantle those spells to allow an investigation to continue would only cause further problems. Time would be taken and invariably some of the spells would be ruined,” Allie explained.

  “Such as,” the judge encouraged her.

  “The mattress shuffle spells, the chomping vampire couch spell, the cauldron smash, the loose tools incident, the disappearing wall, the fire ignite spell.” She paused and looked up, as if she thought that might be a long enough list but was perfectly ready to continue if necessary.

  The judge was already clutching his head. “Enough! I see you’ve done your research.”

  “I always do,” she said.

  “Much to my dismay,” he said.

  “You can return to pretending that I’m dead after you rule,” she told him, ending on a bright note.

  “I’m going to rule on this nonsense right here and right now. Enough of this court’s time has been wasted in useless pursuits when I already know my answer,” the judge blustered.

  The clerk was watching him closely. When he looked away she pulled a bottle out from beneath her desk, took a swallow of whatever was in it, and quickly replaced it.

  She wasn’t the only one who was stressed out. Several people in the court were now looking concerned.

  “You haven’t hear
d from the witch family themselves,” our lawyer managed to say.

  “What about witches’ rights!” someone behind me yelled.

  It was news to me, but now I understood that this case went beyond our own little cottage; there were activist groups concerned about the outcome. It turned out that a sheriff searching a witch home wasn’t a small thing.

  The judge appeared unconcerned.

  In fact, when he fully took in what our lawyer had just said, he looked utterly shocked and exasperated.

  The clerk was again trying to hand him some papers, I assumed the ones he had to sign to finish this case and move on to the next one.

  “No, of course I haven’t heard from them!” he bellowed.

  He looked about to let someone else say something. When no one responded to his outburst, he bellowed some more. Someone should have talked about French History or something just to keep him quiet.

  The clerk quickly threw the papers back on her desk and glared at him, exasperated.

  “Witches have run amok far too much, especially recently. Back in my day none of this would have happened,” stormed the judge. “You think the queens concern me? You think silly activist groups concern me? You’re one of them!” he glared at Allie.

  What he meant she was I wasn’t certain, but he went right on ranting. “This event didn’t even happen in Crown! The deputies and the sheriff must be able to do their jobs! At least someone is doing a job around here! I never!” he cried.

  The clerk sat up and glared at him once again, apparently trying to convey that she was attempting to do her job despite the hostile circumstances.

  I glanced at Quinn, who was sitting straight and alert but not reacting, at least visibly, to what the judge was saying. Easy enough for him; the judge clearly planned to rule in his favor.

  My attention turned back to the judge when he demanded, “Who is here to speak on behalf of the witch family?”

  Our lawyer indicated us.

  The judge leaned forward and peered at Lowe and me. “I don’t recognize either of them. Makes it worse. Why is some lovely witch family causing so many problems?” he muttered.

  “I rule in favor of . . .” The judge raised his purple pom-pom-covered gavel, but before he could strike it on his desk, a voice cried out.

  “Wait!”

  I looked around to see who had spoken, then a deep terror seized me. I was the only one standing. I had shot out of my chair and was now somehow on my feet, swaying a little and not understanding how I’d gotten into that position. My lawyer gave me an encouraging look, but to counteract any positive vibes that might have gotten to me, Lowe covered her face with her hands and tried to hide.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  A courtroom full of fearful eyes turned toward me.

  I hoped those who remembered me would paint this as an act of bravery, but I knew it was foolish even as I was doing it.

  A voice cutting into my thoughts confirmed that notion.

  “You dare to interrupt me?” the judge hissed. “Who are you to deny the motions of the court! I’ll hold you in contempt! I will! Give me the contempt papers!” he demanded of the long-suffering clerk.

  “Just as soon as I can find them. I’m useless, after all,” she said in the most respectful of tones. The she met my eyes and winked. Her desk was the tidiest thing I had ever seen.

  “While we wait for my secretary, why don’t you tell me your name?” asked the judge, gazing at me with a smile that had a maniacal tint to it.

  I said, “My name is Jade Rhinestone. I . . .”

  But I didn’t get to finish either. A lot of interrupting happened in this courtroom.

  “Your name is what?” the judge demanded, leaning forward, his whole demeanor transformed in an instant. He had gone from wild and crazy to something else entirely.

  “Jade,” I said.

  “Yes, yes, first names don’t matter a whit. Mine is Hemoglobin. What’s your last name?” he asked.

  “Rhinestone.”

  He leaned forward and peered in my direction, then turned his gaze toward Lowe again. “Any relation to Bethel?” he whispered.

  “There is only one Rhinestone family in Twinkleford! You know that perfectly well,” our lawyer scoffed.

  The judge nodded his head slowly, looking no more comforted than he had a moment before.

  “She’s my grandmother. She’s also Lowe’s grandmother,” I indicated Lowe.

  “Don’t draw his attention to me,” my cousin hissed.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  The judge suddenly turned to the sheriff’s lawyer. “Do I have it correctly that you want to search the home of Bethel Rhinestone, founding member of the coven and current matriarch of a premier witch family? She’s the only witch in town who is able to keep unicorns, is she not?” He sounded terribly reasonable. For the first time since we had walked into the courtroom, the lawyer for the sheriff’s office looked nervous.

  “You said it was just any old witch family . . .” the lawyer tried to say to Quinn.

  From the other side of Quinn I could see Joy shaking her head. We all knew where this was going to end up.

  “You didn’t say it was Bethel Rhinestone’s home! We can’t search Bethel Rhinestone’s home! She’s one of the founders of the coven,” the judge exploded.

  “You weren’t worried about Crown residents . . .” the lawyer began.

  “They aren’t as terrifying as Bethel!” The judge looked like he was going to have a meltdown. Sure enough, the next words out of his mouth were, “Smelling salts!”

  His clerk somehow managed to find those right away. She handed them over and he took several deep breaths, then announced, “I’m throwing this case out. I’m dismissing it posthaste. I never want to hear about anything like this ever again. Have I made myself clear?”

  He glared around at all of us and we nodded in turn. Apparently satisfied, he took one last shuddering breath, then said, “If Bethel Rhinestone could hear that I acted in her favor I would greatly appreciate it. Anything for Bethel, that’s what I say.” He was still wheezing, and his clerk was still trying to help him. The lesser clerks were all looking on in confusion. The rest of us got up and started to leave the courtroom as quickly as we could.

  Lowe and I jammed into each other trying to get out the door at the same time. Our defender, Allie, caught up with us in the hallway as others streamed past and the next case was called.

  “That was quite a performance,” she said with satisfaction. “If I had known that a mere mention of the famed Bethel Rhinestone would win us the motion, I’d have name-dropped your grandmother a long time ago. Fine work. The rights of witches are preserved for another day, and probably a few of the limbs of the sheriffs.” She winked and left us, making her way to a group of witches standing nearby who I assumed were the activists who had gotten Allie to work on our behalf. Because, as I found out now, Lowe hadn’t been the one to engage her.

  “That was amazing!” Lowe breathed, downright delighted.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” I muttered. “He could have thrown me in jail or something.”

  ”Jail is only for serious crimes and drunks,” she said. “Likely you’d have gotten assigned to the archives. No one wants to work there, so it’s treated as a punishment. Sad, really. Hi Quinn,” she rambled as Quinn strolled up shaking his head..

  “I had no idea the Rhinestone name held so much sway,” he said.

  “Now you do,” said Lowe stoutly.

  “Now I do indeed,” he agreed with a smile.

  “I guess we won’t be searching your home. I do hope that if you find anything at all, you’ll let us know,” he added.

  “Anything or just anything that further incriminates Lester?” I asked.

  It was a low blow, but I couldn’t help it.

  Seeing his frown, I quickly said, “We have to get going! I’ll see you later!”

  Lowe was already at the door, and I rushed to join her. We were meeting
Jackie and Kelly at Robin’s before the Young Witches meeting.

  “That was crazy. I’ve never gone to court before. What do you think Bethel did to make the judge so afraid of her?”

  “If I know Bethel, all she really had to do was say hello,” I said dryly.

  For once Robin’s restaurant was packed. We didn’t get our usual table in the back, and there was no sign of Gill. It almost felt like a different place. Even more unexpectedly, only Kelly was there. She waved to us from a table near the window.

  “Hey! How are you? How was court?” she asked. “I ordered appetizers.”

  Lowe and I collapsed into seats next to her. It wasn’t until just that moment that I realized how tired I was.

  “We have a lot to tell you,” I said.

  Indeed we did. Kelly hadn’t heard about a lot of what had gone on, including the attack on the cottage. She listened with her mouth hanging open. We hadn’t even gotten to the court episode and we had already been there for ten minutes.

  “Where’s Jackie?” Lowe asked during a break in the action.

  “I don’t know,” said Kelley. “She said she might be late. The mayor’s office is working her hard.”

  “Of course it is. She doesn’t have any free time anymore. I’m going to hate having a real job,” Lowe grumbled, slumping in her chair.

  “Should we order something for her to eat?” I asked.

  “She might like that,” said Kelly.

  So we ordered her a pasta dish along with our own meals, then kept gossiping about the murder case and the arrest. I didn’t want to tell the court story until Jackie got there. When the food came and Jackie still hadn’t arrived, I started to get worried.

  “Do you know Pebbles?” I asked Kelly while we waited.

  “No, never heard that name before,” said Kelly.

  “What about a gambling underworld?” I asked.

  Kelly’s face darkened. “My brother has talked about it. He once got into some debt there, and Dad had to get him out of it. I don’t know what Dad said or did, but he made it crystal clear that my brother was never to go back to that place, and I don’t think he has.”