by Tegan Maher
“Yeah!” I said, trying to sound sincere. “And then we’ll empty the safe deposit boxes. I can’t wait to get my hands on some gold.”
“I’ll smash in the door!” Penny said. “Once we’re inside, we can blow up the vault with the… um… the explosives that you brought with you!”
We arrived at the front doors, huffing and puffing.
Penny took a batter’s stance in front of the double doors. They were solid wood, and I have no idea why we thought it would be a good idea to bring a bat. It’s not like the doors were made out of glass. But Penny bent her knees and posed with the bat held upright over one shoulder, as if she was about to take a mighty swing.
“On three!” I called out. “One… two….”
“Halt!” a stern and raspy voice said.
The sound came from above. At the same time, I heard the flapping of wings. Swish, swish, swish. I looked up into the dizzying array of white flakes, and saw two winged forms descending through the darkness.
5
Down, down, down they flew.
Big, rounded bellies. Scaled wings. Square, scowling faces.
The two winged beasts landed on the sidewalk between Penny (and her bat) and the wooden doors.
“I forbid your entry into this establishment!” the gargoyle on the right said, in the same raspy voice that had spoken earlier. His face was a bit dog-like, in that he had a squarish muzzle that protruded out into the wintry air. When he spoke, puffs of steam emerged from his lungs. His whole body was pale gray and rippled with muscular bunches as he stalked across the doorway, blocking Penny’s way. He folded his large, stone-gray, scaly wings onto his back.
“As do I!” the gargoyle on the left said in a screeching, female tone. Her face was more smooshed in than the male’s -- her muzzle looked more cat-like in that it was flatter and rounder. She had large, pointed ears.
She swooped one wing through the air. It had a claw on the end of it, which she used to point down the sidewalk, in the direction which we’d come. “This bank is protected! No one shall enter tonight. Go home! You’re not welcome here.”
I stepped forward, so that I was at Penny’s side. I was encouraged by the fact that the gargoyles were talking to us, not trying to pick us up in their talons or anything. Maybe they were reasonable creatures. “Wait, please,” I said, holding up a hand. I tried to emanate peace and calm, which was hard seeing as the gargoyles were at least two feet taller than I was, and adorned with claws, talons, and sharp teeth. “We’re not actually here to rob the bank.”
Penny reached for the beanie she was wearing and pulled it up so that it was off of her face. “We had to do that so you would come to life.”
The female turned to the male. “See, Donnie? I told you!” she said, her voice rising and falling in a way that reminded me of a quarrelsome wife. “They aren’t real robbers. This one has a bat. A bat! What would she do with a bat? It’s a trick.”
“Well, Jeannie, better safe than sorry, isn’t it?” the male said with obvious frustration. It was clear that he was used to defending his actions. “What if they’d smashed the door handle or something? It’s our job to protect this place!”
Penny held up a hand. “It’s okay,” I said. “There’s no need to bicker about it.”
I spoke up. “We’re not here to cause trouble, we’re here to get answers.”
“Answers to what?” the female, Jeannie, said. She jutted one muscular, cat-like hip out to the side and placed a clawed paw on top of it. “You’re here about that box of decorations that Donnie took, aren’t you?”
“Hey!” the male gargoyle exclaimed.
Penny looked at me with raised brows.
I mirrored her expression. I knew exactly what she was thinking: Did we just crack the case?
The male gargoyle, Donnie, scowled at his gargoyle partner. “Jeannie, that was supposed to be a secret!”
“It was wrong,” Jeannie said. She flapped her wings and then used one to point to Donnie. “I told you that it would come back to bite us in the tail -- you taking that whole box right out from under that poor girl’s nose.”
“Monique,” I supplied. “The woman who you stole from… her name is Monique.”
“I didn’t steal anything!” Donnie said defensively. “I just borrowed that box and hid it away for a little while, so that they couldn’t drape those darn garlands over Jeannie and me this season. Those garlands block our eyes, so we can’t see! Something had to be done!”
“Is that why you stole the box?” Penny asked. “To get the garlands?”
Suddenly, it all clicked for me. I remembered seeing the fake evergreen garlands in Jim’s photo, looped around the gargoyles’ heads. “They block your view of the door, don’t they?” I said gently to Donnie.
“Exactly!” he said. “We can’t do our job of guarding the bank with those crazy green things over our eyes. It’s awful! When that lady came out with the box, and I spotted the garlands inside, I knew it was our chance.”
“He flew down before I could stop him,” Jeannie said accusingly. “I knew it was a bad idea. We’re only supposed to come to life when the bank is threatened.”
“Not so,” Donnie argued. “Our orders were to come to life when the bank was threatened, sure, but not only then. We can come to life whenever we want.”
“That wasn’t the spirit of our orders, and you know it,” Jeannie said.
Her voice was so high-pitched and grating, I wanted to cover my ears to protect my hearing. I didn’t, because I thought it might hurt her feelings.
She went on screeching. “The witches that donated us to the bank put us there to protect and serve, not to swoop down and steal things.”
“Borrow!” Donnie countered. “I just borrowed the box! We’d give it back.”
“We? Keep me out of this.” Jeannie turned to Penny and me. “You two must be witches. Are you here to fire us?”
“Nope,” Penny said. “We just want that box back.”
I chimed in, in an attempt to smooth things over and get Donnie into an agreeable mood. “It’s totally understandable that you took it,” I said. “It must be really frustrating to have your eyes covered over during the holidays. What about this… We promise to ask the bank employees to put the garlands elsewhere. How’s that?”
Donnie thought this over for a minute. Then he said, “You know, maybe they could hang them in little loops… what’s that called?”
“Scallops,” Jeannie supplied.
“Yeah, scallops,” Donnie said. “Right below us, along the cornice. That would look nice.”
“Really nice,” I agreed, with an encouraging nod.
Penny pulled out the tin of cookies she’d brought along. “And guess what? We brought cookies, too. Here. They’re for you.”
Donnie snatched the cookies.
“Thank you for your service,” I told Donnie. Then I turned to Jeannie. “You both have done a lot for our town. We were reading earlier that almost every Nugget Bank in the southwest got robbed back in the 1960s, except for this one. I’m guessing you two had something to do with that.”
Donnie lifted his chin proudly. “Yeah, we did,” he said. He eyed the cookies clutched in his clawed hands. “That’s pretty nice of you, you know that? I guess I’ll go get the box of decorations. Be right back.”
He handed the cookies over to Jeannie, who opened the top carefully with the tilt of a claw and peeked in with interest.
With a flap of his wings, Donnie took off into the night sky.
Penny and I turned to each other and shared a high five.
“So, did he fly back down with the box?” my friend Annie asked the next night, as we walked toward the Nugget Bank. The other members of my coven, Azure, Cora, and Penny were right behind us. We’d just met up with Annie at her café, where she’d handed out hot cups of cocoa for us to carry as we toured the town, taking in all the holiday window displays.
“He did,” I said with a grin.
P
enny piped up from behind us. “Then he proceeded to gobble down about a dozen cookies. He was picking them up by the pawful, and crumbs were flying everywhere!”
Annie laughed “I imagine you really made his day with that gift.”
“Maybe even his year,” I said.
“Or decade!” Penny said. We rounded the corner, and saw a crowd huddled in front of the Nugget Bank’s window.
“We spent a bit of time with them,” I said, “just chatting and eating cookies, and watching the snow fall. They were actually really nice, when they weren’t bickering with each other. Then, when they said goodnight and returned to their places, we called Monique.”
“She was so happy to hear from us, even though it was late,” Penny said.
“I think she was having trouble sleeping anyway,” I explained.
Cora nodded with understanding. “I can’t blame her. She thought she might lose her job!”
“Right,” Penny said. “So she bundled up the baby and met us here at the bank.”
“As it turned out,” I said, picking up where Penny had left off. “Garreth was working a volunteer shift for the fire department. He cruised over in the tower truck, and we spent an hour or two hanging lights and garlands from the rooftop.”
We all looked up. Azure pointed to the garlands, which hung in little half-moons from the cornice. “Careful to avoid the gargoyles’ eyes, I see.”
“Very careful,” I said with a grin. “And it looks so good, Monique said she’s sure this is how the bank employees will decorate from now on.”
“I’m sure Donnie and Jeannie will be pleased about that,” Azure said with a laugh.
“I think so,” I said.
Annie sipped her drink while looking up at the stone gargoyles with curiosity. “So they really come alive, hm? That’s fascinating!”
“Magical,” Cora said in agreement. “What did you tell Monique? I’m sure you couldn’t tell her about the gargoyles!”
I shook my head. “Definitely not,” I said. “We didn’t want to freak her out. So we just said we found the box out in the alley, hidden out of sight. She was puzzled, but so grateful it was found that she didn’t even question it.”
As we approached the crowd, I caught a glimpse of Polly, skating over her mirror-pond semi-gracefully. There were a few starts and stops, probably due to the fact that Garreth was somewhere nearby, directing her movements with a remote control.
Jim, who was toward the front of the gathering with his camera in hand, caught sight of us and waved. “Good work, ladies!” he called out, gesturing to the skating penguin. “I just took a picture of my granddaughter with Polly. She’s the happiest little girl in the world. You saved Christmas!”
I blushed.
I wasn’t sure that Penny and I had saved Christmas.
I saw Monique, on the far side of the little crowd, holding her baby in her arms. She made her way through the gathering and approached Penny and me. “What Jim said is true,” she said as she bounced her little one up and down in her arms. “You really did save Christmas, for me and my family. If it wasn’t for your detective work, I’d be without a job soon. As it is, Kurt is really pleased with how the display turned out. Instead of firing me, he said he’d like me to be head teller.” Her cheeks flushed with happiness.
“That’s great!” Penny exclaimed.
“Congratulations,” I said.
“And guess what else?” Monique said. “The president of the Chamber of Commerce just stopped by. He informed us that our display is going to win first place in the contest!”
“Woohoo!” Penny said.
I reached out and gave Monique a warm hug. “Well done,” I said. “You really put effort into this, and it shows.” We all looked over at Polly the Penguin, who was gliding through piles of gold.
“I’d better go see if Garreth needs a break,” Monique said with a laugh. “Sometimes his hand gets cold, when he’s stuck steering that car for too long.”
When she left, Cora wondered aloud -- in a voice loud enough for only us witches to hear -- about what other enchanted items might be out about town, hidden in plain sight.
My witchy sisters offered up possible answers, but I stayed quiet.
I didn’t have to ponder whether certain trees were going to come to life, or the sculpted elk on the sidewalk by the market. I knew that the magic of our little town was in plain sight, all around me. It was in the faces of my friends, the colorful lights that glittered from every business front, and the sweet cookies that Bess was handing out to everyone she saw.
We were surrounded by magic. We just had to take our blinders off once in a while so that we could really see it.
Want to read more?
Want to find out more about Marley Greene and the witches of Hillcrest? Grab a free copy of the prequel to Amorette’s Hillcrest Witch Cozy Mystery series, The Case of the Love Spell HERE.
About Amorette
Amorette Anderson writes imaginative cozy mysteries that star witchy characters. She lives in Colorado with her husband and two rambunctious puppies. When she’s not walking dogs or writing novels she’s dreaming up ways to make life a little more magical.
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Bespelled
A Beatrice Montoya Mini Mystery
Ava Mallory
Bespelled: A Beatrice Montoya Mini Mystery
By Ava Mallory
Beatrice “Bea” Montoya loves Christmas. She loves the sparkling lights, the music, the time with loved ones, and the snow, but there’s one thing she doesn’t like… being guilted into helping with the annual Christmas Festival. She hoped this year would be different, but she never expected it would turn out like this. During the holidays, no less. When she and her best friend make a gruesome discovery in a box of donated Christmas decorations, she is thrust into the middle of a baffling mystery. Her instincts tell her there’s more to the story than meets the eye. But when she stumbles upon the truth, it’s even worse than she imagined. Now she has to find out why. When her efforts prove futile, she’s forced to rely on the one thing she’s never told anyone outside of family. Will the reluctant witch find the answers she seeks without revealing her true identity and before the Christmas Festival is in full swing?
1
“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
I let it fall to the floor. It’s not what I expected to find in the first box of Christmas donations I’d opened. I wasn’t ready for karma to make me pay for all the mean things I thought about the Christmas Festival committee members.
I didn’t want to volunteer for anything. I wanted to say no when they asked. I wanted to slink out of the room like a snake. I wanted to run for the hills. I wanted to do anything but take on another project. I didn’t have time in my jam-packed schedule for one more task. I didn’t have the mental energy to deal with any more people. There were only a few days left before Christmas, and I had enough work on my desk to keep me busy until next Christmas. I hadn’t done much of anything other than work every minute of every day since the beginning of time, or since I decided this was the year of saying yes. Bad idea. Horrible idea. Worst idea I’d ever had. Decorating for the festival was the last thing I wanted or needed to add to my to-do list.
Who in their right mind volunteers to take on other responsibilities during the holidays?
Not me. That’s for sure.
Yet, here I was. In a warehouse that might as well have been an igloo. There were space heaters, but there weren’t enough of them to do any good.
I could have walked away. I could have kept my big mouth shut. I could have pretended I had memory issues. I could have acted like I didn’t hear Huntington Quigley when he volunteered my services. He was the honorary committee chairman. He pleaded with me to tackle the warehouse full of donations
.
I smiled. I nodded like it was the best idea ever. I let him tell people I had plenty of time to tackle the monumental task. He swore my job wasn’t important enough to matter. I listened as he said I got paid to do nothing but sit at a computer all day. He had no clue how hard I worked. It’s not like subscriptions for newspapers were a hot commodity. He didn’t know how little I slept. He didn’t know my mornings started at three a.m. and ended well after midnight most days because everyone had relationship problems. Everyone.
I stumbled into the committee meeting by accident while on the way to finish another task. Had I not run into Brianna Bailey, the new committee member who’d moved to town a year ago and shook everything up with grand ideas, I could have made it out the door unnoticed. She locked eyes with me, gasped, placed a hand over her heart, and winked before addressing the committee members on my behalf. “Look who’s here,” she shouted. “It’s Beatrice Montoya, relationship guru, California girl, and newly single. Give it up for her. Can we get a round of applause for the lovely lady?”
I did nothing to hide my disdain for her. She was the queen of cheap shots. I shot the glare of death at her, but she ignored it and proceeded with her charade, complimenting me as she made snide remarks about my lack of enthusiasm.
She led me into the meeting room, announced her latest plans, and guilted everyone in attendance into jumping on board her personal brand of crazy train.
I was a hard no… in my mind. My mouth, however, didn’t get the message.
Before I knew what happened, I had been assigned the most thankless job of all. Rummaging through decades’ worth of discarded, broken, mangled, and downright dirty holiday decorations wasn’t high on my list of priorities. Neither was finding a man’s foot in a box of wreaths. No one said that would be part of the job.
