by D. S. Butler
I frowned. There had definitely been someone behind the screen. Was it somebody adding a pie as a last minute entry in the competition?
I guessed it must have been but decided to investigate just in case.
I was almost next to the screen when Mr and Mrs Townsend approached me. Mrs Townsend wore an Alice in Wonderland costume, and her husband was dressed as the Mad Hatter.
“Oh, Harper, thank goodness,” Mr Townsend said.
The Townsends were an elderly couple, whose families had lived in Abbott Cove for generations. At first glance, they looked like a sweet old couple, but they were the biggest busybodies in Abbott Cove.
I smiled at them politely. “Hello, are you having a nice time?”
“Well, we were until Betty just stamped on my foot,” Mrs Townsend said.
“Oh, I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” Betty from the Lobster Shack was wearing an inflatable pumpkin costume. It couldn’t be easy to maneuver around people in an outfit like that.
“Maybe not but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. I need to sit down,” Mrs Townsend groaned, and her husband supported her.
“Just a minute,” I said and dashed across to the chairs, which had been lined up against the wall. I selected a chair and carried it back over to Mrs Townsend so she could sit down.
She sat down with a sigh of relief and then said, “Have you seen the pumpkin pies, Harper? Can you guess which entry was ours?”
“Um, they all looked very nice. Is yours the one with the pecans on top?”
Mrs Townsend beamed, and I figured I’d guessed the right one.
“Yes, that’s right. Doesn’t it look lovely? Just between us, I think we’ve got it in the bag.”
“Of course,” Mr Townsend said proudly. “It was my idea to use the pecans.”
“Oh, you helped with the baking too?” I asked.
Mr Townsend looked outraged. “And why not? Don’t tell me you’re sexist, Harper Grant. Men can bake just as well as women, you know.”
“Oh, of course. Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply they couldn’t.”
I backed away from the Townsends, apologizing as I went.
Finally a safe distance away from the Townsends, I managed to take a quick peek behind the curtain.
I gasped in horror.
All the pies were intact apart from one… Grandma Grant’s!
There was a huge hole in the center of the pie as though someone had scooped out a handful of pie filling. I glanced over at Grandma Grant, who was still chatting with Ethel Goodridge.
I groaned. She was going to be devastated.
I needed to act fast. I could make this right. All I had to do was remember my reversal spell.
It was the one spell I had practiced until I was blue in the face. Because I messed up so many spells, it was always useful to have a good reversal one on hand. If I could reverse the damage to Grandma Grant’s pumpkin pie, then everything would be all right.
My eyelids fluttered closed, and I tried hard to concentrate and ignore the sound of people bustling around me.
I concentrated on the pie, imagining how it looked before somebody had ruined it. I tried to recall the words of the spell, breathing deeply. A warm sensation developed in my core and traveled down my limbs to my fingertips and toes.
I began to relax. Everything would be okay. I would just say the spell and then…
When I was halfway through muttering the spell under my breath, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
Surprised, I opened my eyes to see the police deputy, Joe McGrady, dressed as Hans Solo, smiling warmly at me. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a fluttering sensation in my stomach that had nothing to do with the spell and everything to do with the handsome deputy.
“Hello, Harper. Did you make a pie to enter in the competition?”
Joe stood in front of me, and I glanced over his shoulder at the pies to see whether or not I’d been successful. My heart fell when I saw Grandma Grant’s pie was still ruined.
I shouldn’t really have been surprised, though. I hadn’t had a chance to say the whole spell.
I shook my head. “No, I’m not entering the competition. It’s probably just as well. People would be dropping like flies if I tried to get them to eat some of my baking.”
Joe laughed. “I’m sure your baking can’t be that bad.”
Chief Wickham joined us. In his Darth Vader costume, he was an imposing presence. He removed the helmet and grinned down at me. “I hope you’re ready for a challenge, Harper. Joe and I are both taking part in the pumpkin pie eating competition later, and we skipped lunch in preparation.”
I smiled, opened my mouth to reply and then suddenly froze, staring at the table behind Joe. My spell might not have reversed the damage to the pumpkin pie, but it had certainly reversed something else.
The jug of lemonade that had been sitting on the same table as the pies had turned back into lemons, water and sugar. If that wasn’t bad enough, for some reason, the lemons appeared to be multiplying.
My eyes widened in panic. I needed to do something before somebody noticed. Multiplying lemons wasn’t something I could explain if anyone noticed.
“Harper? Are you okay?” Joe asked.
I wasn’t okay. I was starting to panic. I needed to do something before this got out of hand. In desperation, I looked over my shoulder at Jess and tried to get her attention.
“Oh, sure. I’m fine. I’m just gearing myself up for the pumpkin pie eating competition,” I explained lamely.
Joe didn’t seem convinced, but luckily, Chief Wickham was happy with my answer and began to tell us about the time he’d taken part in a hot dog eating competition.
During Chief Wickham’s story, I flapped my arms wildly behind my back until Jess came to my aid. She took one look at my panicked expression and followed my gaze to the pie table.
She ducked behind the screen, and within seconds, she reappeared, smiling at me confidently.
The lemons, sugar and water had been safely turned back into lemonade, and Grandma Grant’s pie looked just as perfect as it had when she’d first placed it on the table. Not for the first time, I envied Jess’s spell casting skills.
It was good timing, too, because less than a minute later, Archie stood at the front of the diner and rattled a spoon against his glass of lemonade before announcing that the judging was about to commence.
Chapter Three
Everyone in the diner turned their attention to Archie. He pushed back the orange screen revealing the table laden with pumpkin pies. There were appreciative “oohs” and “ahhs” from those gathered around the table.
Grandma Grant didn’t seem to notice anything unusual about her pie. I breathed a sigh of relief. Jess had done a good job.
While everyone else was commenting on the quality of the competition entries, I glanced around, trying to see who could have been responsible for spoiling the pie. Whoever had deliberately sabotaged Grandma Grant’s pie would be very surprised to see it back in one piece. Everyone looked perfectly innocent, though.
I heard a groan behind me and turned to see Mrs Townsend collapse back into her chair.
“Is your foot hurting? Do you need me to get the doctor?” I asked.
Mrs Townsend shook her head fervently, and Mr Townsend put his hand on his wife’s shoulder and insisted she would be absolutely fine.
Leaving them to it, I turned back to the judging competition. Leo Green had taken up his position behind the table and was commenting on the quality of the pies in turn.
He pulled his fake beard out of the way and picked up a fork. Then he held out a plate so Archie could place the first slice of pumpkin pie on it.
Leo selected the one with whipped cream first, and by the self-satisfied smirk on Adele Silver’s face, I guessed that pie was hers. The audience held their collective breath as Leo took his first bite.
He took his time, enjoying being the star attraction and the center of attention. It was all part of the sh
ow, and everyone was having a good time. I felt myself relax. Maybe whoever had sabotaged the pie had done so by mistake. It looked like this party wouldn’t be so bad, after all. If we could avoid an argument between Adele Silver and Grandma Grant, then I was going to chalk this day up as a success.
A broad grin spread across Leo Green’s face as he said a few complimentary words about Adele’s pumpkin pie. She basked in his praise, smiling smugly. I heard Grandma Grant grumbling under her breath but ignored her.
Next, Leo sampled the pumpkin pie with pecans on top, which the Townsends had made.
He appeared to thoroughly enjoy that one, too, and was very complimentary about the flavor combination of pecan and pumpkin.
I glanced at the Townsends, thinking that they’d be very pleased with themselves, but they seemed tense and nervous.
Next, Leo sampled Grandma Grant’s pumpkin pie. He licked his lips in ecstasy and took another bite. Then he polished off the slice of pie with two large forkfuls. His praise was so exuberant, and over the top, it was embarrassing.
Finally, Leo moved on, selecting the pumpkin pie with candied fruit scattered on top, but before Archie could put a slice onto the plate, Leo dropped his fork. It clattered to the floor, and I’d moved forward to get him another from the kitchen when I noticed his face had turned purple. His hands clutched at his throat as he struggled to breathe.
“Oh, no! He’s choking!” Archie shouted and maneuvered himself behind Leo to slap him on the back.
Claudine screamed for someone to help. I looked at Grandma Grant and Jess to see if they would try to use magic to help Leo, but they were both frowning. Grandma Grant looked like she was muttering something under her breath. Maybe she was casting a spell? But it wasn't helping.
Deputy Joe McGrady and Chief Wickham stepped up and took charge of the situation.
“Can we have a bit of room, please?” Chief Wickham said as Joe loosened Leo’s tie.
Chief Wickham stood in front of them and held up his hands, gesturing for people to step back a few paces.
“Joe is a first-aid practitioner. Leo is in good hands, but I think we should phone for an ambulance, Archie.”
Archie raced over to the telephone.
The next few minutes were unbearably tense as Joe did all he could to help Leo, but the poor man was still struggling to breathe.
“I can’t see anything trapped in his throat,” Joe called over his shoulder to the Chief. “I think he must have had an allergic reaction.”
Chief Wickham turned to Claudine, who was wringing her hands and standing over her husband.
“Does your husband have any allergies, Mrs Green?” Chief Wickham asked.
Claudine shook her head. “No, he’s always been as healthy as a horse. No allergies, at all.”
I noticed Leo’s brother, Bruce, reach out to grab hold of Claudine’s hand and squeeze it reassuringly. Thankfully, the ambulance didn’t take long to arrive, and they put an oxygen mask over Leo’s mouth and wheeled him out of the diner on a gurney. Bruce and Claudine left to follow the ambulance to the hospital.
“Maybe he was allergic to nuts,” Betty suggested after they’d gone.
“I hope you’re not suggesting it was the pecans on our pumpkin pie that poisoned the judge,” Mr Townsend said, looking indignant.
Betty shrugged. “Well, maybe not on purpose. But he definitely reacted to something.”
I was starting to feel nervous. Could my feeble attempt at magic have made poor Leo ill? Maybe Jess and I shouldn’t have tried to reverse the damage to Grandma Grant’s pie. If the damage had been caused by someone trying to harm the judge, we might have inadvertently covered up a crime.
We all talked among ourselves for a while, and then Archie cleared his throat nervously to get everyone’s attention.
“What is it, Archie? I asked.
“I’ve just found something, which sheds new light on what happened to Leo,” Archie said, looking miserable.
He lifted the tablecloth and pointed at a small bottle on the ground. I leaned down to take a closer look. The bottle was only a few inches tall and made of brown glass. It had an old-fashioned glass stopper, and the label was yellowed with age and crumbly.
“What is it?” I asked, peering closer. I was about to pick it up when I saw the skull and crossbones on the other side of the label.
Chief Wickham walked over to us and said. “Don’t touch that, Harper. It’s evidence.”
I straightened up and felt my stomach flip over when Chief Wickham said, “All right folks. Nobody is to leave the diner just yet. It looks like this wasn’t an allergic reaction. It appears Leo Green may have been poisoned.”
Chapter Four
Poor Leo. I felt terrible. Inadvertently, I’d covered up this crime by getting Jess to reverse the damage to the pie. Our actions meant whoever committed this crime might get away with it. I had to speak up.
“Could I have a word with you, Chief Wickham?”
The Chief was asking Betty from the Lobster Shack a series of questions. Deputy Joe McGrady was on the other side of the diner, talking to Mr and Mrs White.
“Just a moment, Harper,” Chief Wickham said. “I’ll be questioning you soon.”
My shoulders slumped as I took another guilty look at Grandma Grant’s pumpkin pie. “It’s really important, Chief Wickham.”
He turned away from Betty, patting her on the arm as he said, “Sorry, Betty I won’t take long. What is it, Harper?”
“I’m afraid I did something a bit silly.” I tried to talk quietly, but of course, that didn’t work. Everyone in the room turned in my direction, eager to hear what I was going to say.
“Do speak up, Harper,” Chief Wickham grumbled. “It’s not like you to talk quietly.”
I took a deep breath and launched into an explanation. “Just before the judging started, I checked on the pies and saw one of them was damaged. A large section of filling had been removed as though somebody had scooped out the contents with their hands.” I shot a look at Grandma Grant. “It was Grandma Grant’s pie, and I knew she'd be ever so upset, so I tried to repair the damage.”
Chief Wickham frowned at me. “What are you saying, Harper?”
“I think I may have inadvertently covered up some evidence. I saw somebody sneak out from behind the screen, which is why I went over to check on the pies.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone?”
I shrugged. “I thought I could fix it.”
Chief Wickham’s frown deepened. “Did anyone else see the damage.”
Jess spoke up, “Yes, I did. I helped Harper fix it. We had no idea that somebody had been tampering with the pies to poison them. I thought it was sour grapes from one of the other competitors.”
“I think I have a good idea who that could be,” Grandma Grant said, narrowing her eyes and glaring at Adele Silver.
I put a restraining hand on Grandma Grant’s arm.
Chief Wickham shook his head. “Why are things never simple in this town? We will get all of the pies analyzed first thing tomorrow to see if they were poisoned. Can you give me a description of the person you saw sneaking out behind the screen?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “It was just a movement that caught my eye, and there were people standing in the way, so I didn’t get a good look.”
After Chief Wickham had gone back to questioning Betty, I sought out Jess. “This is all my fault. You don’t think my terrible magic could have poisoned him, do you?” I asked in a whisper.
Jessica shook her head. “No, definitely not. I know magic and spell casting, and what happened to Leo certainly wasn’t magic.”
Feeling relieved, I told Jess I was going to check on the Townsends. They were a grouchy and difficult couple, but they were Abbott Cove residents, and we looked out for one another.
“How is your foot feeling now, Mrs Townsend? If you need a ride home, we’d be happy to help,” I offered.
Betty, who had just finished
being questioned by Chief Wickham, happened to overhear our conversation. “Oh dear, what happened to your foot, Mrs Townsend?”
I waited for Mrs Townsend to tell her she’d hurt her foot when Betty had stepped on it. But Mrs Townsend looked very shifty and said nothing.
Her husband looked equally awkward and began to whistle and look around the diner as though he didn’t want to look Betty in the eye.
I put my hands on my hips. Something was going on here.
“Mrs Townsend told me you stepped on her foot, Betty. I told her I thought it had to be an accident.”
Betty’s eyes widened. “I did no such thing. I would have noticed if I had.”
Mrs Townsend flapped her hand at me. “Well, maybe it wasn’t Betty. I’m getting old. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. It could have been someone else.”
I looked down at Mrs Townsend’s foot to see if it was swollen, but my eyes focused on a mark on her light blue skirt.
“What is that?” I pointed at the orange smear on her skirt.
Mrs Townsend quickly folded the fabric of her skirt to hide the mark. “Nothing.”
“It looked like a little bit of pumpkin pie topping.” I narrowed my eyes. “I think you better start telling us the truth, Mrs Townsend.”
Mrs Townsend scowled. “I told you it’s nothing. I must have gotten a little pumpkin pie filling on my dress when I made our pie earlier.”
I folded my arms over my chest. I didn’t believe her for a moment. “Are you trying to tell me that you prepared your pumpkin pie dressed up as Alice in Wonderland?”
Mrs Townsend’s face fell when she realized she had been caught in a lie.
Mr Townsend sighed. “It’s no good, dear. We may as well tell her the truth.”
“Yes, tell us,” Betty insisted.
“Fine,” Mrs Townsend said grumpily. “But we didn’t poison anyone. I was just sick and tired of your grandmother lording it over everybody because of her perfect pie. I didn’t add anything. I just scooped a little bit out of the middle, to teach her a lesson. I must have gotten some on my dress.”
