“Mine,” said a voice.
We all turned to see Pickle step out from behind a row of parked cars. Her eyes were cold and she didn’t have her clipboard anymore.
“The black car is yours?” I asked incredulously.
Pickle cocked her head to the side. “Yes, it is. Well, it’s my grandfather’s, but he passed away and left it to me.”
“Is it still in his name?” Charlie asked.
Pickle made a sour face. “What business is that of yours?”
We didn’t really need an answer; if the car had been in her name we would have recognized it on the list of Mintwood’s owners of black cars.
“It was you who killed Tabitha and Mrs. Tootsie!” Charlie cried, unable to contain herself even for safety’s sake.
Mrs. Stone gasped. Pickle’s facial expression didn’t change at all, but she also didn’t deny the accusation.
“That’s ridiculous,” sputtered Mrs. Stone. “All Pickle cares about is the fair. She would never hurt the judges.”
But that, in a nutshell, was the problem.
Or the motive.
Pickle cared about the fair, and behind the scenes it hadn’t been doing well for years. This year had turned out to be a revival, because so many people from other towns had participated.
For what seemed like an eternity the four of us just stood there as if some dark power had frozen us in our places. Then Pickle’s control broke at last.
“It wasn’t her!” she scoffed, glancing at Mrs. Stone. “Who has kept this fair going all these years? Me! All these people who come and enjoy themselves! This is the talk of the county every year! The baking competition is the highlight! The line to try the winning pie stretches the entire length of the fairgrounds! Three of the past winners have opened up their own bakeries! It would have been four if Mrs. Cook had obliged.”
Pickle was full-on ranting now. She was only a little older than I was, but the fair had been her life and some strange kind of energy had been building around it in her mind, an energy that could be contained no longer.
“I didn’t mean to kill Tabs, mind you. It just happened. We were yelling at each other, I was trying to convince the old witch to stay on as a judge, but to agree to let people from other towns enter the competition. She refused. She said she’d had enough. Actually had the nerve and gall to say that the fair needed to go in a new direction, meaning I shouldn’t work for it anymore! As if I didn’t know what direction it needed to go in. I stepped toward her, she stepped back, there was a wet bit on the floor, her roof leaked. She didn’t make it. Well, I wasn’t very well going to explain what I had been doing there. I figured she’d be found immediately. Then that would be that.”
She paused to glare at us, then went on. “No, instead goodly Mrs. Cook had to interfere and it took forever. Except that Mrs. Tootsie had seen me leave. I guess Tabitha had been afraid to tell me she was leaving and Tootsie had offered to come over for moral support, but she got there too late.”
“Why did you kill Tabitha?” I asked.
“She was in the way,” said Pickle. “The fair was failing. We all knew it and something had to be done. She swore to me that she would travel the world, go far and wide, but always come back for the fair. And we had to do it her way. She was ruining everything! If the fair was to continue, she had to be stopped. I went over there to talk to her and she was cleaning out the attic. I started yelling at her and she took a step back and tripped.”
So, an accident. At least the first death was, but Pickle hadn’t told anyone, and that failure added layers of complication to the situation. Meanwhile, the thought of poor Tabitha alone and getting in a fight with Pickle made me sad.
“What about Mrs. Tootsie?” I asked.
In the background the myriad of lights from the fair cast a rainbow glow. In the darker parking lot, Pickle’s face was a mix of creepy-looking shadows. I wondered how I could have missed her malice for so long.
The fair assistant took a shaky breath. “She saw my car at Tabitha’s. She didn’t put two and two together until she got suspicious because Tabitha hadn’t been in contact. One night I went over there to discuss the fair with her and I let slip that I knew Tabitha wasn’t going to be coming back. After the house caught fire I knew the body would be found and attention would be focused on how Tabitha had died. Mrs. Tootsie knew my secret and I knew she wouldn’t keep it after that, so she had to be stopped as well. I figured I’d bake her something memorable. I never was much of a baker, but even I could make an edible cookie.”
“Why did you accuse Charlie of sneaking around the fair?” I asked.
Pickle looked taken aback, but Charlie gave me an appreciative look. I figured that since Pickle was in a talking mood, we might as well keep trying to get information out of her.
“How’d you know about that? Never mind, I don’t want to know. I wanted to divert suspicion. Charlie’s always snooping around and going where she shouldn’t. The detective had clearly noticed. I figured if he was busy looking into her he wouldn’t have time to look anywhere else,” Pickle shrugged.
Charlie was about to respond when she was interrupted.
“We have to get help,” said Mrs. Stone. “She’s a monster!”
“I am not!” cried Pickle. “You’ll never catch me.”
But before she could take a step, another voice came out from between the rows of parked cars.
“On the contrary,” said Mayor Clabber, “we already have.”
He was puffing on a cigar, which was about as surprising as his presence. He looked down at it and said, “Don’t tell anyone.”
“No one knows you have vices,” said Charlie with a straight face.
The mayor inclined his head slightly. “I thought not.”
“You’ll never catch me!” Pickle cried again, lunging for her black sedan.
Everyone was so shocked we all just stood there.
Usually I would pull out my wand at a time like this, but not in front of civilians like Mrs. Stone.
“HELP!” Mrs. Stone started to yell, looking around frantically at the empty parking lot. “She’s getting away!” For a small woman she sure did have a pair of pipes on her.
Mayor Clabberd was taken aback. “Oh, um, oh, um, no. Gosh, I am the gentleman!” He had suddenly realized that as the only male there, at least by his own standards he should be the one to chase down Pickle.
He bent as if to start a forward motion. Holding his large hat down more firmly on his head, he began trundling in Pickle’s general direction.
While he was doing that, Pickle was nearly to the sedan. But she had forgotten about Charlie, small as my friend was.
Charlie stuck her foot out and tripped Pickle, who flew forward and landed on the dirt with a yell.
The ruckus brought people running. At the front of the crowd was Greer, closely followed by Deacon. Her face was still pink from her baking win, but when she saw the scene in the parking lot her expression quickly clouded.
Puffing along in the back of the crowd was Detective Cutter.
“Arrest that woman,” said the mayor, still holding onto his hat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The hubbub continued for a long time after Pickle was led away. Once she was caught, she didn’t even try to deny what she had done. Instead, she took one last look at a fair she loved too well.
Many people had questions. Mrs. Cook arrived with Mrs. Barnett and needed an explanation. Fearne and Frannie had to be told that they were safe. They were busy eating pie, but they tried to look relieved at the news.
“They think we’re wimps,” Fearne muttered to Frannie.
“Never underestimate a lady,” advised Frannie.
After that we needed to head home. The hour was getting late and the fair was shutting down. The next day we’d be back to help clean up, but Charlie had a story to write and we all needed to relax.
“If Lena doesn’t think this scoops Hansen Gregory, I don’t know what will,” Charlie
said triumphantly as Deacon walked us to the car. When he saw me looking around he ruefully explained that Jasper had had to leave. Disappointed, I wished I could have seen him that night, but I understood that his job and his grandfather placed a lot of demands on his time.
Deacon saw us off and agreed to meet us at the fairgrounds the next day.
Once we were on our way home, alone at last, we three housemates could finally discuss the case. But first, Charlie and I congratulated Greer again on her amazing come from behind win. She gave us a big smile, then got down to business.
“I can’t believe it was Pickle,” said Greer.
“It makes sense,” said Charlie. “She wanted the fair to succeed. After Tabitha died accidentally, Pickle realized that it would her wish could come true at last. Once Mrs. Tootsie threatened that outcome, she decided she had to do something about it.”
“Killing someone over a vision for the fair hardly seems worth it,” said Greer.
“Where do you think Tabitha’s ghost is?” Charlie asked me.
“I think she waited around her body for as long as she could, then maybe she left. I have a feeling she’ll be back. Probably around this time of year, when the fair is happening, it’s just too hard for her,” I mused. “So she’ll be back, but later in the year.”
“What do you think Ellie is up to?” Charlie asked.
“I think she invented the town of Puddlewood as a place to gather her following,” I said. “Maybe she’s using some of Mintwood’s more far-flung forestland, or even possibly the hills around Ms. Ivy’s. Either way, she has to be stopped.”
I stopped and thought about it for a moment, then muttered, half to myself, “A rogue witch can’t have a booth at my fair.” Ellie was pushing all the boundaries. To what end I wasn’t entirely sure, but I didn’t like it.
“And finally, what about telling Jasper he’s in danger?” Charlie peered at me through the dark car and I felt my face blush.
“I need proof,” I mumbled.
“You just don’t want to talk to him about all this witchy stuff. But you don’t really have a choice,” said Greer sagely. “It’s who you are, and if you’re going to be with him you have to share these things with him along with everything else.”
“Well, don’t you just know everything since you became the best baker in Mintwood,” I said.
“I’m not the best baker in Mintwood,” said Greer, surprising me with her modesty.
She did have a point about my relationship with Jasper, though. We couldn’t ignore who we were – neither of us could. For my part, I didn’t ever want to ignore the fact that I was a witch, and I knew Jasper would feel the same.
But I meant what I’d said to Charlie. I needed proof that Jasper was in danger before I went spouting off guesswork and possibly getting him alarmed for no good reason.
“I’m the best baker in the county,” said Greer smugly.
Charlie and I laughed.
Once we got home I decided that there was one loose end that had to be tied up right away. There was a new acquaintance of ours who I knew would be very curious about how Tabitha’s story had turned out. That is, she would want to know who had murdered her owner. So as not to go alone, and for other reasons as well, I decided to take Paws along.
My friends waved me off. Both of them were tired. They were going to shower and stay at home recovering from the week.
Paws was dejected, but I told him I had a special treat for him and insisted he take a ride with me.
“Good gracious, I can’t think of anywhere I want to go less than downtown Mintwood,” grumbled the animal as we set off.
“Oh, come on,” I ordered him. “You’ll appreciate it, believe me.”
“What is this?” he gasped when we got to our destination.
“Mrs. Cook buried Honolulu at Tabitha’s house,” I informed Paws, “since that’s where she died. She’s in a pretty part of the garden. I thought it was a good choice. She wouldn’t be allowed in the Mintwood cemetery, and Tabitha was from a different Maine county anyway, so even if her ghost comes back here it won’t be for long.”
“You mean, she’s here?” Paws whispered. He started to look around.
“Oh, good evening,” said a melodic voice. Floating toward us was a happy-looking lady kitty. Paws could barely contain himself.
“Good evening,” he whispered, looking delighted. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
“Why? I was buried right here,” said Honolulu. “I would have been much more upset if I thought our last parting was the last time we would ever speak.”
“It’s what Lemmi told me. She can be a cruel master!” Paws explained.
I coughed.
A set of lights interrupted us and I turned to see Jasper’s Wolf’s truck pulling up along Main Street. I felt a smile tug at my lips. Quickly and without another thought for the reunion of the two ghost cats, I hurried over to my boyfriend.
The idea that I could ever call Jasper my boyfriend was the best, but I was still worried. There were witch wars brewing, and Jasper still didn’t seem sure of his footing or his place in my magical world. If only I could get him to understand that it was our world together it might work out smoothly enough, but unfortunately, his first loyalty was to his family’s company, as was only proper. The family business was the center of his life and all he had ever known. What’s more, his grandfather didn’t approve of me though and that wasn’t going to change.
Under the circumstances, our relationship would have to thrive based on how much we cared about each other, and that was all. I hoped we could make it work.
Without a second thought I raced up to Jasper and flung my arms around his strong back.
He touched my face, his fingers soft. I fought hard not to look into his eyes, but who was I kidding? The warmth I found in his green irises made me giddy.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking so worried I almost couldn’t bear it.
I wanted to tell him I was fine, that as long as he was safe, and Charlie and Greer, then everything would be okay. I resisted the urge, but barely.
“Perfectly all right,” I told him.
“All in a day’s work?” he offered.
“Yes, exactly,” I said.
“A witch’s day’s work,” he pushed.
There was a question in his voice, and again I found myself wanting to reassure him. Maybe I could tell him I wasn’t really a witch, that I took it all back, but I knew I couldn’t. He deserved to know the truth, in all its wart-nosed forms.
“I’m sorry about running away from what you told me,” he whispered. “I had always suspected something strange about my own family.” His jaw tightened. “I had just never expected to hear anything of the kind coming from the girl . . . coming from my girlfriend.”
Butterflies officially started doing a happy dance in my stomach. He could see me trying not to smile, and his own smile only grew wider.
We had been dancing around this for so long, it felt very strange to actually hear those words. He knew I was a witch, but did he really know what that meant, especially if his family was filled with witch hunters?
“We should find a place more private to talk things over. Do you want to come over sometime?” he asked. “Maybe we can go canoeing. Mine is old, but you’ll love it.”
I nodded, mute. Jasper had never invited me to his house before.
“Sorry the invitation didn’t come sooner,” he said, reading my mind. “I’ve been building my little cabin by the lake for a while now. Half the time I sleep at the barn and most of the time I’ve been showering there as well. It hasn’t exactly been suitable for company.”
I smiled. “I’d love to see your place.”
“Great! It’s a date,” he said, sounding genuinely excited. “By the way, can we talk about your porch?”
“What about it?” I asked, trying not to sound defensive.
“It’s leaning a little,” he said. “I could help with that if you wanted.
”
“I didn’t want to ask for any favors,” I muttered. “Besides, don’t you think it adds to the charm of the place?”
Jasper laughed. “The only charm that place needs is you three. Just let me shore it up a bit. It can’t look cute if it falls over.”
“Oh, very well. You can have a look,” I muttered. “Charlie and Greer are going to have a field day with that.”
“I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jasper whispered. He walked me to my car and waited until I’d driven out of the driveway.
He was right, of course. It was very late, and I was tired. Reluctantly I agreed to end our evening, but I was already looking forward to the next time we’d be together.
When I looked back I saw Jasper against the background of a window of Tabitha’s house, where Paws and Honolulu were standing side by side, watching me go. I knew Paws had no intention of coming with me.
As I drove away I saw a glow in the sky. The fair had been shut down for hours, yet a light still burned.
Looking back, I saw that Jasper was already out of view.
Looking toward the fairgrounds, my anxiety told me that Ellie was in Mintwood at that very moment.
She was trying to take my town from me, and for some unfathomable reason she thought she had a right to do it. The fact that I hadn’t seen her at the fair all weekend told me something, but not enough. She didn’t want to confront me outright, at least not yet. She was going to wait until her victory was assured.
The Dark Witch of Puddlewood was just getting started with Mintwood. I knew when the time came that I wouldn’t be able to stand up to her, and I would lose everything.
There was only one way around it, but I wasn’t going to like it.
I’d have to ask the other witches for help. And to do that I needed to go before the Witches’ Council.
But meanwhile, I really needed to get some sleep.
The next week would bring new adventures. The time to meet with the Witches’ Council had come. There had been signs of witches, but now, here was the real thing.
Witch Wish Way Page 19