“There are warlock conventions to dating,” I barely managed to get out, finally thinking of something relevant to say.
At the stage where we made our dating status official, we would have to start paying attention to those rules. Since he sounded as if he wanted to make it official sooner rather than later, I wanted to be clear about that.
The rules were quirky to follow, but no worries, none of them had to do with me behaving properly. There was no way I’d consent to enter in to any kind of contract that required that.
“Yes, I agree. That’s something we should talk about. On our date,” Grant said, raising his eyebrows to indicate that he was waiting for an answer.
I managed one quick nod. I had no idea what else to do. I had no idea where to look. We were sitting so incredibly close to each other that it was as if enchantments were crackling between us. I felt sparks all over my skin. My palms were sweaty. In this situation there was only one thing to do.
Without another thought I grabbed the door handle and flung the passenger door open. I yelled a goodbye, slammed the door, and ran away.
Problem solved.
I didn’t look back once. There was no way I could even look at Grant when I had just behaved so ridiculously.
When I gained the safety of the mansion, I immediately lifted my hands to my face. My cheeks felt hot despite the cold. I continued to stand there for a few minutes, catching my breath. I wondered what my cousins would think of what had just happened.
There was nothing else for it. They would probably swoon.
Why?
Because Grant was clearly swoon-worthy.
It was in this incredibly awkward position that Lark and Pep found me.
“What happened to you? What happened at Edmund’s?” Lark demanded.
I had forgotten all about solving the case, but now the whole series of events came back to me. My eyes went wide. I had so much to tell them I didn’t know where to start.
“You didn’t arrest him, did you? I have a feeling that Jefferson Judge wouldn’t like that,” said Pep.
“Of course we didn’t arrest him. He didn’t do anything wrong,” I said.
“That’s good to hear. I was getting worried when you didn’t come back right away,” said Pep. “I’ve been keeping an eye out while I got some work done.”
“Grant and I were talking in the car,” I said.
My cousins looked at each other with glee.
“That definitely requires ice cream,” said Lark. She seized my arm and dragged me into her shop, where we settled down so I could catch them up on the news.
First I told them all about what had happened at Edmund’s. They couldn’t believe it.
“I can’t say I’m surprised, but it’s still an amazing story,” said Lark.
“What do you mean you aren’t surprised? I’m shocked,” said Pep. “I’m surprised they were all in it together. I guess I’m just not surprised that Edmund wasn’t involved. Besides, the Root is a criminal organization. I feel like anytime somebody is murdered in this town, from now on they should be our main suspects,” she said.
I told Pep she had a point, but she had already moved on to the more important topic.
“Let’s get to the important business,” she said. “What is this stuff with Grant?”
“Yeah, we only have a few minutes before we have to meet Cookie and find out who Old Leslie is. Tell us!,” said Lark.
I caught them up as quickly as I could. The gist of the conversation I’d had with Grant, I told them, was that he wanted to see me again. Also, he had tried to convince me to stop investigating, then stopped trying to convince me after all.
“I hope he wasn’t serious. He wasn’t serious, was he?” Pep asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“He said his bosses want you to stop?” Lark said.
“That’s what he said. I know some of his bosses, but maybe I don’t know them all. I can’t possibly see why they would care what I’m doing,” I said.
“I can’t either. It’s strange, but I’m glad he was up front with you about it. I’m also glad he wants to see you again,” said Lark.
“The third date means you two are going to have to talk,” said Pep.
“That’s what I told him,” I grumbled.
“Was he okay with that?” Pep asked.
“He was more than okay with it. It was clear that he had planned on doing the same thing. What kind of guy plans on having serious conversations? Aren’t they supposed to avoid those?” I demanded.
“The good ones don’t. At least not always,” said Pep.
“Looks like you two are going to be having a fun conversation Friday night. For me personally, I can’t wait until Saturday,” said Lark.
“Jane? Where are you! It’s nearly dusk!” Cookie’s voice called out.
We hurried out of the ice cream parlor to find Cookie stumping toward us. As usual, she did not look pleased.
“Sorry. I’m here,” I told my grandmother.
“You’d better be. We can’t catch Old Leslie without you,” she said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because it’s your job to be in charge of Down Below. If you start doing your job poorly, I’m not sure where that leaves us,” she explained. “Now, let’s get a move on. I figure we can watch from the second floor of the carriage house without too much trouble.”
“Where do you think they’re going to meet tonight?” I asked.
“The greenhouse,” she said. “I might have let some interesting tidbits slip about the spindle. That’s how we’re going to catch Old Leslie. There’s no way someone from Down Below can resist writing about my demise.”
“Is that what the spindle really means?” Pep asked.
“Yes, of course that’s what it means. Why do you think it would mean anything else?” said Cookie.
“It’s just a spindle,” Pep argued.
“Very little around here is ‘just’ what it appears to be,” said Cookie.
We made our way to the carriage house, which overlooked the greenhouse and was therefore great for spying on it. It had been a long time since I’d been out there, but if anything there was more unused furniture stuffed into the space than there had been the last time I’d seen it.
My mom periodically got it into her head that she was going to declutter it, but apparently she wasn’t making any progress. It seemed to me that moving the clutter around wasn’t the same as decluttering, but there was no way I was going to risk telling her that.
Cookie was in the lead, still with her pet flame following her around whenever we went outside. Heaven forbid the woman ever be the slightest bit cold.
A flame was a simple enchantment, but a flame that followed a witch around was much less so. Cookie clearly enjoyed showing off the fact that she knew a bit of magic none of the rest of us did. If I was any judge of my grandmother—and I was—we’d be seeing proof of it well into the spring.
The carriage house was cold, dusty, and dark. I glanced at the windows despairingly. They were covered in such a thick layer of dark brown grime that we were going to have a hard time seeing anything through them, let alone catching a secretive criminal from Down Below.
We headed up the stairs, and I remembered that last time I’d come up here, Rose had cornered a mouse. This time all was quiet.
Cookie took us over to the window that gave us a view of the greenhouse. She waved her hand and muttered something, and suddenly the window was totally clear. I could still see dirt on the pane, but somehow it didn’t obstruct our vision.
“You have to teach me that spell,” Pep breathed.
“I have to do no such thing,” Cookie grumbled.
“Right. Sorry. You don’t,” Pep said.
“Who do you think Old Leslie is?” Lark asked Cookie. “Shall we take bets?”
Cookie shrugged. “Could be anyone from Down Below. I stopped paying attention to their pug faces years ago. My main con
cern is having a little chat with him or her and insisting that they stop upsetting Jane’s mother. That’s my job,” she said.
“Who . . .” Lark started to ask again, but Cookie silenced her.
We waited.
Dusk was falling.
Then dusk fell.
We kept waiting.
There was no sign of any movement.
But finally, just when I thought I couldn’t stand the suspense or the quiet any longer, I saw someone come around the corner.
To my total shock, it was two someones.
“Cam and Kip! NO WAY!” Lark nearly yelled.
My brother looked up at our window and frowned as Kip kept busily talking to him. Apparently not seeing anything, Cam returned his attention to Kip.
Cam hadn’t seen us, even though to us he was as clear as day.
“We’re invisible,” said Pep wonderingly.
“There’s a very good enchantment on that window,” said Cookie.
“I guess so,” Lark agreed.
“Those two are informing on us to Old Leslie?” asked Lark incredulously. “One of them is Old Leslie? That can’t possibly be true. Kip doesn’t talk enough to be writing articles.”
“What do talking and writing have to do with each other?” I asked.
“It’s just that this Old Leslie always has a lot to say,” said Lark.
“And Kip never does,” said Pep finishing her sister’s thought.
“And there’s no way my brother could write even one article,” I added, “much less churn them out at the rate Old Leslie has been managing.”
We looked at Cookie, who was standing there humming and tapping her foot.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Which one of them did you . . . wait, they were both there last night, so you didn’t have to tell them about it. I’m so confused,” I said.
“They aren’t the informant, or Old Leslie either,” she said.
“What are they then?” Pep asked.
“Out for a walk, I expect,” said Cookie dryly.
We went back to waiting, and soon my brother and Kip disappeared from view. I was just starting to grow tired of standing still when someone else came into view.
I’d liked to say I was shocked, but I wasn’t.
“I knew it!” I cried.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
No offense, but Lizzie didn’t look great. She tottered a bit as she made her way to the greenhouse, stopping to peer over her shoulder before going inside.
She must have confirmed that the coast was clear, because she quickly opened the door and stepped in.
We didn’t move.
“OH! She’s such a . . .” Pep stopped herself.
“Charming, sweet girl?” Lark wondered.
“No, definitely not,” said Pep hotly.
“Horrible witch?” I offered.
“Yeah, that’s more accurate,” Pep agreed.
“Where’s Old Leslie?” I wondered.
“I don’t know . . .” Cookie’s brow was furrowed. Something was going on that she hadn’t expected, but I couldn’t guess what.
“Are you sure he’s here? If Old Leslie is nowhere to be seen . . .”
“Oh no!” Cookie was suddenly furious. “There must be a secret entrance into the greenhouse.”
And my grandmother was off. Even her pet flame was caught off guard; there was a pause before it woke up and sped after her. She hurtled down the stairs and outside, with Lark, Pep, the flame, and me in hot pursuit.
“What other entrance?” Pep asked me.
“No idea. I only know the one,” I said.
I wasn’t surprised that there was another one, though.
This estate was full of surprises.
Cookie was heading for the greenhouse in such a rush that it looked like she was floating rather than running. My cousins and I had to sprint to keep up with her. She didn’t waste any time being stealthy. Instead she yanked the door open and rushed inside. We managed to catch up just in time to see the scene that followed.
Inside the greenhouse the air was warm and damp. The spindle was still sitting in its corner, still as dark as the last time we’d been out to check on it. Standing between the spindle and another figure was Lizzie. When she saw us burst in, her eyes went wide.
The other figure was bulky and held a cane. At first his back was to us, but then he turned around.
Fudge Berry ruled Down Below by cunning and intimidation. I was certain that when those qualities failed him, he was perfectly happy to revert to outright threats.
When he caught sight of Cookie, his face split into an evil grin.
“You’re Old Leslie?” Lark spat out.
I was just as shocked as Lark. I had expected to find out that Old Leslie was some secretive and hidden figure from Down Below, but no, it was the most famous criminal of them all. Unfortunately for all of us, Mirrorz was doing his best to vie for that title, but he hadn’t wrested it away from Fudgy yet.
So, I thought to myself, old Fudgy Berry secretly wanted to be a creative writer. Imagine that.
Lizzie’s eyes flared in alarm. Her arm was still in a sling, but some color had returned to her cheeks. She looked less ill and dazed and more piqued.
The Fudge’s eyes crinkled in mirth. “Whatever are you going on about?”
“That must be it! No wonder you were never in your office! You have a secret career as a writer of mean content for the Spooky Times,” I said.
“It’s not as if it was ever a reputable publication,” said Cookie.
“It certainly is reputable,” the Fudge said, puffing up his chest.
My grandmother rolled her eyes. “I didn’t guess it was you, but I should have known. It was clearly someone in a position of authority Down Below; otherwise Old Leslie would never have gotten away with flouting the rules,” said Cookie sagely.
“What rules would those be?” The Fudge appeared genuinely interested. Either he was delighted by the idea that there were ever rules that could contain him, or he wanted to write an article about them.
“You were never in your office. You simply left finished articles for the publishers. That isn’t how it usually works,” my grandmother pointed out.
She had a lot of the same information about Old Leslie that I did. She was now putting it together just as I was. With the Fudge standing there in front of us, it was hard for me to remember a time when we could have thought anyone else could be the guilty party.
Meanwhile, Lizzie was trying to come up with excuses for why she didn’t have anything to do with something she clearly had everything to do with.
“I just happened to run into the Fudge. It was purely an accident,” said Lizzie. “So nice of you all to join us.”
“Yeah, right,” Lark scoffed. “You intentionally met him here because you’ve been giving him dirt. On your own family, no less. It’s a new low, even for you.”
Lark was clearly relishing this conversation, while Lizzie looked more and more flustered.
“Girls, will you excuse me? Old Leslie and I need to have a chat,” said Cookie, in a tone I had never heard her use before.
She had grown tired of all of this flummery.
The Fudge flinched in a way I hadn’t seen before, his bluster dissolving before my eyes.
He was about to be in big trouble, and he knew it.
Before Cookie led Old Leslie away, she turned to me. “This discovery should keep the Hamm sisters off of our backs. For now, anyhow,” she said.
I had totally forgotten about the women who had shown up at Haunted Bluff to have a fight with Mom and Meg, but now I nodded mutely. The fact that Cookie was still worried about the Hamms made me realize that we probably hadn’t seen the last of them.
My mom and Meg had done a pretty good job of hiding the Garbos away in Shimmerfield all these years. The crazy Spooky Times articles had ruined that. My grandmother was officially furious.
Cookie crooked her bent and wrinkled finger at Fudgy.
“Your turn.”
Chapter Thirty
For now we had solved the mysteries, but I knew there were more to come. Edmund’s house was only one step in a larger plan hatched by the Root of All Evil. They had tried to infiltrate Edmund’s home using Timothy. That had failed, but they would try again.
Besides the Root, the woods around Shimmerfield were teeming with ill-intentioned magical creatures. It was only a matter of time before they started to roam further afield.
Cookie found me in the kitchen one morning.
“I don’t understand one thing,” I told her.
“I would explain the theory of relativity to you, but it isn’t going to make any more sense after I explain it that it did before,” she said.
“Where did the spindle come from?” I said.
Cookie chewed on her lip.
“You promise you won’t tell your mother? Not even if you get very angry with me?”
I frowned. “I promise.”
“My brother left it for me. He isn’t a fan.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. If I had known she had a brother, I had forgotten it somewhere along the way.
“Nothing good. Means he wants something.” She shook her head.
“Family,” she added, in a tone that said there could be nothing more frustrating.
The End
~
A note to readers
If you have a few minutes, please review Spooky Spindle.
on Amazon.com. Reviews are much appreciated!
~
Want to stay updated?
Join my mailing list at:
https://addisoncreek.wordpress.com/
~
By Addison Creek
Witch of Mintwood Mysteries
Witch Way to Mintwood
Witch Some Win Some
Spell by Midnight
A Witch on Mintwood Mountain
Witch Raising Situation
Witch Way Round
Witch Wish Way
White Witch Wonder
Spooky Spindle Page 19