Henrietta gave a sort of belly laugh. She was clearly the sort of woman who laughed often and loudly. “Of course. Of course. Was there anything in particular that you were looking for?”
“This is my first outing to a wedding dress shop. I think I want something simple. I’m not into sparkles and frills. But today I just want to look around, if that’s okay. Maybe try a few things on,” Greer explained. “Might be nice to have a of couple dresses chosen for me.”
Henrietta was nodding her head as if she had heard this a million times before. “It would help if you could answer a few basic questions,” she said. “When is the wedding? Can you tell me roughly what your budget is? If all of that is up in the air, that’s all right too. We work hard at customer satisfaction here. Unless the wedding is next week, we can make pretty much anything work.”
“I appreciate that,” said Greer. “It is definitely not next week. That’s not enough time for our mothers to torture us.”
“I’ve heard that before,” said Henrietta. “Mothers just want the best for their children. Don’t worry too much about it. I’ve often found that there’s a lot of stress in the lead-up to the wedding, and then the day itself is lovely. There was no reason to be stressed to begin with.”
“I’m pretty certain that you have a different mother than me,” said Greer.
“You’ll probably feel better after you tell her you’re engaged,” I assured my friend. She was clearly monumentally stressed about it, and I knew very well that her mother and Deacon’s were both difficult. But Henrietta was right. Parents just wanted the best for their kids.
In this case, Mrs. Dice wanted the best for her daughter and, you know, for the wedding to be on the front page of every paper in the region.
We spent the next hour looking at and trying on dresses. I had been expecting Greer to be more picky than she actually was. She tried on several items and ended up very happy with two of them. One was simple and strapless, while the other had an empire waist and flowed beautifully down to the floor.
Henrietta delighted in what she did. She knew every dress she had in the store and she bustled about with a smile on her face the entire time we were there.
“Thanks so much for all your help,” Greer said to the shopkeeper when she’d finally had enough. She was dressed in her jeans and white shirt once more, and we were standing by the door getting ready to leave.
“Good luck with your search! Be sure to come back when you’re more certain of what you’re looking for,” said Henrietta. She said it cheerfully, as if her bad mood when I arrived had evaporated.
The second we were out of the shop I told Greer everything I had seen before she got there.
My friend frowned. “Maybe it was about her sister? Did she say what happened to her?”
“No, but I can’t shake the feeling that I want to know more. I might ask Charlie to look into it tonight,” I mused.
Greer nodded. “Save the story for when I get home. I’m going to need something to cheer me up after I see Mom.”
“You never know. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think,” I said.
“Maybe,” said Greer, sounding skeptical.
We parted ways, and I headed home. As soon as I got there I called Charlie and asked her to look into Henrietta. Nosy busy-body, that was me.
That was why I was the Witch of Mintwood: to look into odd situations. I hadn’t had a case to investigate since Mrs. Smith’s gardener had been murdered, and things seemed a little too quiet. On the one hand, it was always a good thing when nobody was murdered for a long time. On the other hand, I wanted to do more to help ghosts around the county.
Henrietta’s sister was definitely a ghost now.
Chapter Three
The Henrietta situation might give me an excuse to visit Funnel at the cemetery. I hadn’t seen the old dog in a while. If Paws got especially annoying that evening, maybe I’d ask him if he wanted to go along with me.
I got home, showered, and went to look through my spell books. At least I had moved past the beginner’s level; I had started practicing more advanced spells when we’d gone in search of the dark witch Ellie not long ago.
My grandmother’s more advanced books were slimmer, and also worn. Judging by how well used they were, she must have been an expert spell caster.
I stayed around the house on into the afternoon, until it was time to go take care of Mrs. Ivy’s cats, my current pet-sitting job. There were three of them. One was always a headache and terrified, while the other two were perfectly friendly.
Mrs. Ivy went out of town often, and I usually took care of her creatures for her. I was looking forward to summer, when my pet care business typically got busier. People did go away in the winter, usually to warmer climates, but it tended to be only for a week or so, often during the same week as school vacation.
In the summer everybody was traveling all the time. On top of that, there were a lot of summer residents in the area who were often busy day-to-day and would ask me to come by and check up on their dogs, their cats, or sometimes even their chickens. Birds, fish, and the odd hamster were occasionally thrown into the mix.
Nowadays, whenever I went to Mrs. Ivy’s I thought of the house up the hill beyond hers. That was where I had run into Betty and Possy, dark witch sisters who had aligned themselves with Ellie and had lived with her at her settlement of Puddlewood before it was abandoned.
I hadn’t seen Betty and Possy in a while, and I was definitely not complaining about it. For all I knew, they weren’t even with Ellie any longer, though I tended to think they would be. Given our interactions, it was most likely that they were all together, still plotting to take over Mintwood.
The sun was still high in the brilliant blue sky when I got back from taking care of the cats. Paws was sitting on the front porch glaring at the world.
“Hey,” I said to him.
“It’s you,” he said.
“Yes, the one who lives here,” I said.
“I know,” was all he said. At the best of times Paws wasn’t in a great mood, but this wasn’t the best of times.
“I went to Grandmother’s grave a few days ago. There were fresh flowers there,” I told him.
“Did you put them there?” he said.
“No, of course not. If I had put them there I wouldn’t be asking you where they had come from,” I said.
“You haven’t asked me anything,” he pointed out.
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. When he got into one of these moods he was difficult to cheer up. “I don’t suppose you know who brought the flowers?”
“I may. I may not. Either way I cannot tell you,” he said.
“Fine. Maybe I’ll just find out for myself,” I said.
“Good luck with that,” he muttered. And he put his head on his paws and closed his eyes.
Maybe he had indigestion, I thought darkly.
The one and only ghost who could get it.
Chapter Four
Charlie came home not long after that, joining me in the living room, where I was sitting next to a snack of tea and cookies. She plopped down on the green sofa and started venting her frustration with her editor, Lena. This was a familiar theme.
“She micromanages! Doesn’t she know I know what I’m doing? I know how to take the cap off a pen all by myself, thank you very much. She actually started to describe the proper twisting method to me!” Charlie huffed.
“You would think she’d know by now,” I agreed.
“I told her I’d finish my article at home this week. She didn’t even notice that I left,” said Charlie. “Where’s Greer?”
“She went to tell her mom about the engagement,” I told her.
Charlie’s eyes went big. “Ohhh, she’s going to need something stronger than tea when she gets home.”
“She really might,” I agreed. “I hope the wedding goes smoothly. I mean, it’s supposed to be the happiest day of her life.”
“Not for Greer,” Charlie
shook her head. “Greer has no interest in that sort of pomp. She’s never liked the attention. And given who their families are, she and Deacon are going to have the biggest wedding ever. Poor girl,” she said.
“You know that we’re probably going to be bridesmaids,” I said.
“Yeah, but that’ll be fun. I don’t have to choose an outfit to wear, and I’m sure Greer will pick something pretty,” said Charlie.
“Unless Greer isn’t the one picking,” I pointed out.
Charlie groaned. She started to slump in her seat, then sat up again. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you. I looked into that store owner you asked me to check on. Very interesting story.”
I used a cookie to make a continue motion.
“They were sisters. Haley and Henrietta. They owned the dress shop together, but at first Henrietta just loaned her sister some money to get started with. She didn’t work there much, because she still had some other job. It was Haley’s dream to own a bridal shop. Anyway, a couple of years ago Haley died. Ruled an accident, but Henrietta never believed it. We covered the story some. Haley was well liked, and everyone was pretty upset about it.”
“They never determined conclusively what happened to her. Something about an accident. Henrietta definitely didn’t think it was simply a car accident, though. She believed something happened. I don’t know what, exactly.”
“You mean she suspected foul play?” I wanted to be sure I understood what Charlie was implying.
“Yup,” said Charlie, shaking her head. “You weren’t the Witch of Mintwood yet, and I don’t think the case ever got taken further, but I could be wrong. I called Detective Cutter, since it happened in Applewood and I can’t just go asking their police department.”
The police in Applewood were perfectly pleasant, but I didn’t think they’d give Charlie any information, even with Detective Cutter’s say so. Then again, they might talk to Charlie if she said wanted to do an article about them.
“Lena is fine with my doing a story on Haley. She just wants me to go to the meeting alone,” said Charlie.
“With the Applewood police?” I said.
“Yeah, if there is one. Detective Cutter said he’d reach out to them, but he wasn’t happy about it,” she said. “I’m supposed to hear more tomorrow. I can’t believe you went to that wedding dress shop.”
We talked for a while about the dresses Greer had tried on, but my mind was still on the case of Henrietta’s sister’s death: one sister mysteriously dies, and the other one takes over a bridal store she never really wanted.
“Henrietta was crying today at work,” I said.
“It will be the two-year anniversary of her sister’s death in a couple of days. That’s probably what she was upset about,” said Charlie.
The phone rang just then, and Charlie jumped up to grab it. She wasn’t on it for long. “Deacon’s looking for Greer. He said he’d call back in a few. Isn’t he going out of town?”
“Yeah, today,” I said. “Mrs. Barnett and Gerry are also traveling. Maybe it’s something to do with spring. Everyone is so excited that the risk of driving in snow is gone.”
“Maybe,” Charlie agreed. Her eyes had lit up when I said they were all out of town.
“What?” I bit into a cookie.
She frowned. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that Mrs. Barnett is out of town and that those secret meetings might still be going on. I never did find out what they were,” she explained.
“Liam wants to have a grand opening for the clothing shop in Bright Lights. I think the whole place is going to get a grand opening,” I said.
“That sounds fun,” said Charlie. “When?”
“I don’t know. He’s hoping soon, but he has a lot to do. Maybe the weekend of the spring festival,” I said.
“Every year we mean to go to that festival, and something always comes up. Maybe I’ll actually make it this year,” said Charlie.
At festival time the main street of town was filled with vendors. That actually happened several times a year, but the spring event was everyone’s chance to celebrate the end of winter, and it was always especially well attended.
“We might have wedding planning to do,” I said.
“We might, or Greer might chicken out and not tell her mom. Three years from now they’ll actually get married,” said Charlie wryly.
“How is everything else with you?” I asked.
Charlie was thumbing through her paperwork and didn’t look up for a few minutes. “Hum? Oh, fine. Why?”
“Haven’t seen Hansen around is all,” I said.
Charlie had given Hansen an epic kiss when Greer had come in a couple of weeks ago and announced the engagement.
“Yeah, I’m going to make dinner,” Charlie said, quickly shooting to her feet and careening into the kitchen.
I shook my head, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Charlie was famously cagey where Hansen Gregory was concerned.
Greer came in a few minutes later. Her skin pale was and a big sigh escaped her as she looked around the room. When she saw the plate of cookies she came right over and took one.
“I’m going to eat these until I literally don’t feel so small,” she muttered, taking a big bite of cookie.
I would have laughed if she hadn’t looked so pathetic.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Wait for me,” Charlie called from the kitchen.
When Charlie came bustling in with instant mac and cheese, Greer made a face but didn’t say anything. She was an amazing baker, while Charlie risked burning the house down with every meal she made. Tonight she clearly didn’t have the energy to argue.
Charlie plopped back down on the sofa, then picked up another cookie and set it next to her mac and cheese. She must have noticed the face I was making, because she gave me a stare and said, “Don’t judge.”
I shook my head and tried to focus on Greer.
“Told Mom,” she said.
“What did she do?” I asked.
“She got on the phone,” said Greer.
Charlie frowned. “To whom?”
“The Easton Estate scheduler,” said Greer.
My eyebrows shot up.
The Easton Estate was more than a country club, it was a world unto itself. I had never been there, nor had Greer. Only her parents were allowed. The estate was on the ocean, and it covered so much land that it took in both sandy beach and crashing cliffs.
“Wow,” Charlie breathed.
“They told her there were several dates available in August,” said Greer. “I got the impression that they’d been waiting to hear from her.”
“When did you want to get married?” I asked.
“We were thinking summer,” she said.
“August is a nice month,” said Charlie.
“That’s not all,” sighed Greer.
“Oh?” I said.
Charlie and I were both now leaning forward.
“No,” said Greer. She took another cookie and chewed, slowly.
“What else?” I prodded.
“She already had a guest list drawn up,” said Greer. “I guess the last names are for new friends. You two are on it.”
“Wow,” I said.
“I’m honestly kind of surprised too,” Greer agreed, so preoccupied that she misunderstood my shock.
“Yeah, the thing is, I’ve never even been to the Easton Estate. Let alone heard of half the people on the guest list. She gave me a copy. Then she started to call Mrs. Grate,” said Greer.
“Ohhh,” Charlie’s exclamations of concern were getting longer and more involved.
Greer nodded solemnly.
“So I had to tell her that we hadn’t talked to her yet.”
“She must have loved that,” I said.
“Oh, she sure did,” muttered Greer.
“She was happy that she was the first mother to find out?” I asked.
“Yeah, she and Mrs. Grate have always had a contentious relationshi
p. Competitive, more like. I would hazard a guess that both of them would have been happy if Deacon and I had broken up. They would just have hoped that we’d go on to make more advantageous marriages with other people, so that one family could win,” said Greer.
Charlie was staring at our friend. “Okay, look. First of all, marriage isn’t a competition. It’s about being happy. No joke. That’s real thoughts from Charlie. Second, you have GOT to get out of this funk. Deacon called, why don’t you call him back?”
Greer perked up a bit at that. She grabbed another cookie, then went over to the phone and dialed her fiancé.
We watched her, hoping her smile would return, but instead, her face went white.
When she returned to the plate of cookies, and us, she looked worse than she had before.
“What was that about?” Charlie was clearly exasperated.
“He asked if I’d told my mom. Since he’s leaving town he needs someone to tell his. She can’t go on not knowing, and give my mother a head start on their eyebrow-plucking course . . . I mean wedding planning,” explained Greer, starting on yet another cookie. “He thinks I should be the one to tell her.”
“It isn’t fair if your mom knows in advance of my mom by several days,” Deacon had said. Much to Greer’s dismay, he was right.
“I’ll go with you,” Charlie offered. “Let’s have breakfast with her tomorrow.” She was modeling deep breathing, as if hoping Greer would start to mimic her.
“Oh, very well. I’ll give her a call,” said Greer. But she didn’t get off the couch for a full minute after that.
Then Paws appeared in the window.
Greer took another cookie and was off like a shot.
“How many more of those do you think she’s going to eat?” Charlie whispered.
“How many more are there?” I asked.
“Good point,” said Charlie.
I mean, eating a whole box of cookies wasn’t beyond my powers, so I was sure it wasn’t beyond Greer’s.
“What do you need, Paws?” I asked the ghost cat, who looked like he was in a better mood than when I’d seen him earlier.
Mysterious Mintwood Murmurs Page 2
