by Willow Mason
“Anyone else?”
“Isn’t that enough to be starting with?” Rosie snapped, hands on her hips. “Unless you want to stand around here, levelling snide comments at us all morning, I suggest you pay Brody a visit. He’s been out of sorts ever since finding out Elisa stood to inherit.”
‘That’s not true.” I rubbed my eyebrow as everyone turned towards me. “He fixed my car as an apology for being short with me in the café and told me what Muffin likes to eat. Brody’s been lovely.”
The twins stared at each other for a moment, then shrugged. Posey said, “There could be dozens of other people in Oakleaf Glade who’d want to steal the pixie—”
“Esmerelda’s ashes,” Rosie interrupted.
“Why?” Lucas stared around our circle, brow furrowed in confusion. “Was there something else hidden inside them?”
I ran my finger along the inside of the carved box, uncertain what the twins meant. Without knowing what pixie dust did, I couldn’t understand who would want it. Dandruff from anybody, even a supernatural creature, didn’t sound like a prize worthy of committing crimes over.
The tiny remnants of dust my finger picked up sparkled in the sunlight. Every colour of the rainbow was captured in its tiny fragments and I blew softly on the dust, spreading it out in a sparkling cloud of colour.
Right into PC Lucas Bronson’s face. Oops.
“Oh, I don’t feel right,” he said, knees sagging. “My head…”
He sat down on the floor, grinning broadly while Rosie stared at me in horror. “You don’t use it on humans!”
“I haven’t used anything,” I said, wiping my fingers off on my jeans. “It’s just a bit of sparkly dust.”
“Come with me,” Posey said, grabbing my arm and frogmarching me to the door.
Behind us, Lucas giggled, then lurched to his feet. “I’d better get on the case,” he announced, skipping towards the door like a playful five-year-old. “If dozens of people in town are suspects, it’ll take me weeks, months, YEARS, to interview them all.”
He pushed past us and Posey let go of my arm to clutch hold of his. “Um, officer, wouldn’t you like a cup of coffee before you go? It’s freshly brewed.”
“Can’t,” he said, pulling a set of cuffs out of his pocket and twirling them in the air like nunchucks. “There’s so much work to doo-oo-oo-oo-oo.” His voice turned into a sing-song siren before he burst into crazy laughter, clapping his hands. Posey steered him downstairs and into the kitchen, despite his maniacal protestations.
“Pixie dust is like a drug,” Rosie said, standing so close to me we bumped hips. “He’ll be drunk on it for the next half hour or so, then the effect will wear off.”
“Is that the reason someone stole it?”
“To get high or to sell it off at an enormous profit. Yeah, probably. Pixie’s use it for magic but I can’t imagine another of your tribe taking it. Not unless they’re willing to risk being excluded from the community forever.”
I turned to her with my mouth an O of surprise. “What pixie community? You mean there are others like me?”
“Muffin!” Rosie turned in a semi-circle, spying the small kitten cavorting in the sunshine. “Haven’t you told your mistress anything useful?”
“I’ve told her lots of stuff. It’s not my fault she’s coming from a baseline of zero. It’d be good if her family had stepped things up.”
“I don’t think my family—”
“They know,” Muffin said with a sniff. “They’re just not telling you.” She turned her wilting gaze on Rosie. “And she’s not my mistress yet. Not until she’s fully developed and accepts me as her familiar.”
I pressed a hand to my abdomen as it stiffened, the muscles tight and sore. My mother’s concerned voice floated into my ear. Did she know all about pixies? Were there other things she’d never told me?
“Hey.” Rosie put a hand on my arm. “Muffin didn’t mean anything by it. Lots of people come to their inheritances with all the knowledge of a newborn. You’re nothing special.”
“Thanks for that,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’d hate to get above my station.”
She giggled, putting a hand up over her mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that!”
A second later, she excused herself to check on her sister’s progress with PC Bronson. When she came back into the room, her eyes were frantic. “Posey’s driving him the long route back to the station. I hope he comes right by the time they get there.”
“She’d better take a really long route,” Muffin said, padding up behind me and butting against the backs of my legs. “And I’m sorry if I sounded snippy.”
“You’re all right.” I picked her up and let her nuzzle into the curve of my neck. Her purr sounded like an engine roaring in time with my heart. “From what I’ve learned already, there’s far too much information to impart in just one day.”
Rosie gave the two of us a curious glance. “Esmerelda told me she learned something new every day, and she was in her eighties.”
“Wow.” I stroked Muffin’s back, revelling in the soft fur. “Sounds like you’ll need to talk my ear off.”
The lawyer sighed and shook her head as she caught sight of the empty box. “I suppose we must find out who stole the dust ourselves. Lucas Bronson won’t be the slightest bit of help.”
“If we’re combining forces to solve that crime,” I said in a small voice. “Then I wonder if you’d mind helping with another matter.”
“Is this to do with the note?” Rosie asked, leaning against the wall.
“Maybe.” I swallowed hard. Even though everything out of Rosie and Posey’s mouths sounded like a complete fantasy, the thought of spilling my latest encounter still sounded farfetched in my head. “I’ve been visited by a ghost.”
“Oh.” Rosie lost interest and stared down at the floor. “That happens. They’re harmless. Just ask them what they want, and they’ll go away.”
I glanced at Muffin and she nodded, already knowing what I was about to say. “It was Esmerelda. She warned me to leave the house before I ended up dead like her.”
Rosie stared and barked a short laugh. “Well, aren’t you Miss Popular?”
Chapter Nine
“For a start, you’re not spending another night alone in the house until we get this sorted,” Rosie declared, recovering from her shock long enough to pull me into a hug.
“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?” Muffin complained, wriggling out of my clutches and jumping down to the floor.
“You’re a familiar who can’t see ghosts, is what you are,” Rosie said in a conciliatory tone. “We need spirit eyes on this.” She looked back at me. “If Esmerelda is returning from beyond the grave with a message, she should’ve known better than to come directly to you.”
“Is there a protocol involved?”
“I mean, she knows first-hand how difficult an adjustment it is during these early days. It’s not her style to turn up shrieking and wailing.”
Although my defensiveness bell was dinging, my gratitude at not having to face the horrible creature from the night before alone again overrode it. “Thanks for the offer,” I said with full sincerity. “I’ll gladly take you up on it.”
“Good. Posey will be overjoyed to have a sleepover,” Rosie said with a grin. “Even if it doesn’t include popcorn and old movies.”
“It definitely won’t,” I said with a laugh, then detailed my internet experience.
“Hm. I might be able to help you out there as well.” Rosie wrinkled her nose like the star of Bewitched. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
By the time Posey came back from her mission, regaling us with snippets from PC Bronson’s experience under the influence, Rosie already had an internet serviceman scheduled for the following day.
“I would’ve come to you in the first place if I’d known how much magic you can wield.”
“Hm. It only works so well because you’re in genuine need and we’re helping you out,”
Posey explained. “If we tried for ourselves, we’d spend more energy and get a far less pleasing result.”
“Fairy magic doesn’t respond well to selfishness,” Rosie agreed. “And it knows if we’re trying to trick it with a round robin of supposed philanthropy.”
“But as long as you focus on helping others or contributing to the general wellbeing of the community, you’ll be fine.”
“How does pixie magic work?” I asked, earning a gleeful cackle from Muffin.
“Yeah, lawyers. Earn your keep and teach her everything you know!”
“It’s complicated,” Rosie said, scrunching her nose at the kitten. “For now, just know that your body is gearing itself up to produce its own pixie dust. Even if we don’t recapture your lost inheritance, you’ll still be able to work your own spells. Once we sort out the urgent matters before us, Posey will set aside some time to train you.”
Her sister clapped her hands together. “Oh, yes. I love teaching newbies about their powers.”
“But first, we need to talk to some folks who might know more about Esmerelda.” Rosie quickly filled her twin in on the conversation we’d had while she was away.
“It sounds like Virginia will be our first stop,” Posey said, pursing her lips. “If she wants to cooperate.”
“For her oldest and dearest friend? I can’t see how she wouldn’t.”
Posey turned and grabbed my hand. “Virginia Millicent is a resident at the Oakleaf Glade Nursing Home. She and Esmerelda were friends from primary school so if there’s something fishy about how your great aunt died, she’s the likeliest person to have extra information.”
“Well, that sounds like more of a plan than I had,” I said. “Let’s go!”
If I’d been expecting something more magical than a standard-issue nursing home, I would have been disappointed. From the moment we entered the property, the damp smell of boiled cabbage thrust itself into my nostrils and the sharp squeak of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum tiles assaulted my ears.
“Quickly,” Rosie said, her normally smiling face solemn. “Let’s get into Virginia’s room and escape this fug.”
A nurse insisted on accompanying us to the assigned room, explaining as she tapped on the door that although the patient inside couldn’t answer, they still went through the routine. “It makes them feel like they’re still with us,” the aide insisted as she walked us inside after an appropriately long pause.
I’d thought the room would be private, but inside, row after row of patient’s beds were lined up, each person lying still and silent apart from their connected machines.
“How is everyone today?” the nurse asked in a loud voice full of forced cheer. “Virginia has a visitor, aren’t you the lucky duck?”
Once the aide had left, I turned to the sisters in despair. “I guess we waited too long.”
“Nonsense.” Rosie stepped forward and tapped the back of Virginia’s comatose hand. “You can hear us perfectly well, can’t you dear?”
“Don’t call me dear,” a spirit said, rising from the still body. “And why are you here? You never visit unless you want something.”
“That’s because you told us we bored you and you’d rather spend your remaining time in the valley between worlds than listening to us nattering on.”
Virginia’s spirit gave a hearty laugh. “That’s right. And yes, I still believe that. Tell me what you’re after so I can get back to something I enjoy.”
Rosie gave me a push, and I stepped forward, curtseying with my hands out to my sides, as though I wore an A-line skirt instead of jeans. “I hate to bother you, but I’m after some information about my great aunt Esmerelda and the twins thought you might help.”
“What’s Esmerelda up to these days?” Virginia asked. “I thought she’d passed over. Don’t tell me she made the long trek back just to nag you about something.”
“Well, it wasn’t really nagging. More that she told me to get out of her house or I’d end up murdered, just like her.”
“Murdered?” Virginia’s spirit stared at me in astonishment, before her gaze moved to Rosie. “Is this true?”
The lawyer’s shoulders sagged. “So, you haven’t heard from her either, then?”
“No, I haven’t.” The spirit waggled her shoulders as though she was shifting her weight, though I imagined she couldn’t weigh anything. “It seems totally implausible that she’d leave out such an important factor.” She gave me a dismissive glance. “Or that Esmerelda would contact some relative she didn’t know when she could’ve discussed everything with me.”
“Um, you didn’t…” Posey trailed off her cheeks flushing bright red as we all turned to look at her.
“Spit it out, girl!” Virginia’s spirit barked. “I’ve places to go and things to see.”
“You didn’t have a falling out with Esmerelda, did you?” Posey backed up a step, cringing as she waited for a reply.
“After everything we’ve been through together, it’d take a lot more than a squabble for Esmerelda to never contact me again.” The spirit morphed larger, leaning her face into Posey’s even as her lower half stayed seated on the bed. “Her skins a lot thicker than yours is, dear.”
“We’ll leave you to get on with it,” Rosie said, pulling her sister towards the door. “Thanks for your help.”
I gave an awkward wave as the spirit sank back into the comatose body. Just before Virginia melted into her physical form, she gave me a wink. “Don’t take everything at face value, lovey. A pixie needs to be smarter than that.”
With the advice ringing in my ears, I stumbled out of the room with my face feeling numb. Posey slung an arm around my waist. “Don’t worry. The conversation mightn’t have gone as we wanted but it narrows down the options.”
“How?” I shook my head slowly. “If Esmerelda isn’t appearing at the foot of my bed, then who’s the ghost?”
“As far as I see it,” Rosie answered, “there are three options. One, Virginia hacked off her lifelong friend so badly the ghost is Esmerelda and the warning is valid. Two, someone’s paid another ghost to act like her. Three, there’s no apparition at all.”
“I definitely saw something.”
“Not saying you didn’t, but it doesn’t mean it was a ghost. Perhaps a bit of smoke and a projector started the effect and your imagination filled in the rest.”
I remembered holding onto the doorknob for dear life while the spirit floated through the wall, managing to make me feel both foolish and deathly scared. “My imagination would never produce anything so horrible. Besides, Muffin saw nothing. If it had been a prank with smoke and mirrors, she’d have witnessed the same event.”
“Either way, the point is clear.” Rosie frowned as she pointed a finger at my chest. “Someone wants you out of the house. Either Esmerelda to protect you or, more likely, someone else to take what’s rightfully yours.”
What’s rightfully mine. The phrase gave me pause, and I thought once again of all my cousins who’d missed out on their fair share. Could one of them be responsible?
“Whatever the motive, we’ll find out tonight,” Posey said firmly, hooking her arm through mine. “I for one will record every minute of what happens so we can get to the bottom of this charade.”
“That makes two of us,” her sister said, taking my opposite arm and leading us out of the retirement home. “Don’t worry about a thing because the Hunter twins are on the case.”
Chapter Ten
Once I was dropped back home, Muffin, and I shared a morning tea snack—both partaking of muffins this time—and I thought about everything I’d learned that morning.
Whatever else was going on, I needed to prove to myself Esmerelda hadn’t been murdered. Despite my misgivings about spending such a large volume of money, I walked out of the house to buy a computer and walked back in forty minutes later, laptop in hand.
“Not that it’s going to do anyone any good if I can’t get the internet connected until tomorrow,” I said to
Muffin once it booted up to the welcome screen.
“You can get card games before then,” Muffin said when I put the device down instead of immediately setting it up. “Some of us might like a chance to play a hand or two of hearts.”
“Oh, might some of us?” I raised my eyebrows at the tabby but soon did her bidding and set the laptop up. “Knock yourself out.”
To her immense disappointment, even the inbuilt gaming centre needed a connection to get started. Muffin walked away from the offending screen with her tail held high in the air.
I made a list of everything I needed to do once the connection was up and running. With my phone already available, I’d tried looking up local job listings but soon found nothing was posted online.
“Perhaps I could rent out rooms until something suitable comes up,” I suggested to Muffin, interested in what she’d have to say.
“If you don’t mind sharing with a male, there’s one person who could use a cheap room.” When I raised an eyebrow in interest, the kitten elaborated, “Brody is about to get thrown out of his flat.”
“Really?” My chest ached in sympathy. Considering I’d faced the exact same threat before finding out about my inheritance, my empathy was set to full strength. “What happened?”
“He’s working at a minimum wage job in a country that doesn’t believe in tipping.”
Having spent a small stint at a café, until my snoring problem got me booted out of the dishwashing job, I understood that much.
“His parents also needed a hand last year,” Muffin continued. “They started up a bakery in Timaru on a shoestring and Brody bailed them out of financial hardship a few times. I mean, they’ll return the favour as soon as their business settles down, but he was really counting on the inheritance to bail him out of trouble.”
“But he knew I had a greater claim, didn’t he?” I asked, puzzled why he’d hold tight to something so uncertain. “Brody was put out when I said why I was here, but he must have expected it.”
