Mysterious Mintwood Murmurs

by Addison Creek

  But now we were all distracted from our mutual judgments by the fact that the party guests had started to show up. Shocked at finding two policemen on the scene and their erstwhile hosts being led away in handcuffs, they demanded to know what had happened.

  Mrs. Robertson’s strong exterior crumbled and she started to cry. Charlie gently explained things to people and sent them away. Finally, Mrs. Robertson’s best friend showed up and went to comfort her.

  Meanwhile, Hansen was surreptitiously trying to take notes on what had just transpired. Charlie caught his eye and they smiled warmly at each other. I looked away so they wouldn’t catch me watching.

  After a period of chaos, with people wanting explanations for why the police were there and then not wanting to leave because something interesting might be happening, I finally realized that I was going to be late for dinner if I didn’t get out of there. While I prepared to head off to my all-important encounter with Dylan Wolf, we agreed that Charlie would go and tell Henrietta, and then maybe Haley as well, about the arrest. Detective Cutter wanted statements, so we gave him a brief synopsis for the time being. He said he’d come by the next day to get a more thorough account. He still, of course, hadn’t spoken at length with Mrs. Robertson or her husband.

  Hansen went with Charlie. I felt as if I had my own deputies now, helpers who could relay information to ghosts and even have conversations with them.

  But if I didn’t hurry, I was going to be late for my encounter with Jasper’s grandfather.

  At least my clothes hadn’t been messed up in the standoff with the Robertsons. Plus, I could go into the conversation with Dylan Wolf knowing more about the Witch Hunters than I had until the recent visit to Cobalt. Like for instance, they didn’t chase after all witches, even if they didn’t necessarily like all witches either.

  I told Paws he should go with Charlie and Hansen. He couldn’t possibly come with me, even though he was intensely interested in the dinner and not at all interested in going to the cemetery or the dress shop. But the idea of Paws watching me try to talk to Jasper’s grandfather was altogether too much to contemplate.

  “I can’t believe you don’t see me as supportive,” the cat scoffed.

  “Is it really that hard to believe?” I asked.

  “Witches are so sensitive,” he grumbled to Hansen.

  “She might have a right to be sensitive,” said Hansen.

  “Oh, what do you know?” Paws demanded.

  Hansen didn’t bother to answer.

  By then we were standing next to my car. I was going to drop the trio off at the farmhouse, where they would pick up Hansen’s vehicle while I went downtown in the Beetle. The air had turned crisper, and I shivered into my cardigan.

  “Do you believe he didn’t mean to kill her?” Charlie asked once we were in the car.

  “I guess so,” I said. “But he didn’t help her, either. He just left the scene of the accident and then pretended to investigate it.”

  “Detective Cutter is upset that he missed the signs that more needed to be done on that investigation,” said Hansen. He tapped his pen against the pad of paper he was holding. I wondered if he would write about that as well. Police blunders were never good, and this was kind of a big one.

  “He couldn’t have known,” I said. “But I wonder what Haley will say when she finds out.”

  Hansen nodded, but he stayed deep in thought the rest of the way home.

  When we arrived at the farmhouse, Charlie hopped out of the car in a hurry. “We’ll let you know! Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will work out.”

  She and Hansen then jumped into Hansen’s truck, but instead of rushing right back down the driveway, I found myself frozen in place. My car stayed in park, my breathing was uneven, I couldn’t bring myself to move, even though I had to leave right then or I’d be late.

  I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

  Charlie looked over and motioned for me to get going, and that woke me up. I gave her a thumbs up sign and waved her off.

  The clock on my dashboard said I only had a few moments to get to the pizza place.

  As Charlie and Hansen left, Paws sat the driveway looking at me. For once there weren’t any other ghosts around. He hadn’t gone with Charlie and Hansen, as I had suggested, he had stayed here, apparently to stare at me.

  Instead of leaving, I got out of the car.

  Paws’ tale swished gently. “What?” he asked.

  “You didn’t go,” I said.

  “So?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Why?” asked the cat.

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” I said.

  “He doesn’t have to like you. Jasper loves you. That’s all that matters. You don’t have to try and be someone else to please anyone, even Dylan Wolf. Just please yourself. And me. That’s always enough. I promise,” he said.

  I was staring hard at him now. The breeze blew, but his ghost fur didn’t budge.

  “I’m still trying to figure out how to please you,” I said.

  “Starts with ‘mi’ and ends with ‘ce,’” he shot back with exaggerated patience.

  “Oh, right,” I said with a smile, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. “Thanks, Paws.”

  “Don’t mention it. Seriously,” he told me.

  “Okay. I can do this.” I took a deep breath, smiled at the ghost cat one last time, and headed for the vehicle. As I was driving away, I saw Paws mutter something. There was no way I could hear him, but it might have been, “We’re doomed.”

  Mintwood Main Street was a bustling hive of activity that evening, reminding me that the spring festival was starting the next morning. I had an appointment at six a.m. to help Liam, who had calmed down considerably and was feeling more confident about being ready. He had also decided to disown his mother for not helping him get the clothing shop ready. I tried to tell him I didn’t think you could do that, but I wasn’t sure he’d taken the information in. Anyhow, I had other things to focus on at the moment. The task at hand was daunting enough without worrying about tomorrow’s challenges.

  Walking nervously down Main Street with butterflies colliding in my stomach, I tried desperately to relax my shoulders and school my face into a casual expression. I probably looked demented.

  All too soon, there was Jasper standing out front of the pizza place—alone. He was looking in the opposite direction from me and holding a small bouquet of blue flowers.

  Confused, I approached cautiously. You never knew what a corporate CEO would do when startled. That thought gave me a little chuckle and lightened my mood just a tad.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Jasper turned around to smile at me, his mint green eyes catching the light.

  I tried surreptitiously to flick my eyes inside the parlor, but Jasper caught me.

  “He got called away,” he said, his face falling slightly.

  My shoulders slumped. “He isn’t coming?”

  Jasper shook his head slightly.

  I took in a shaky breath. “Okay.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? At least now you can tell me what happened with Mrs. Robertson. Here, I got you flowers.”

  I took them and sniffed. Jasper’s smile widened.

  “It wasn’t Mrs. Robertson!” I said.

  “Wow,” said Jasper, keeping a tight hold on my shoulder. “This I have to hear. But as for my grandfather, don’t worry; he’ll see you soon. I made it clear to him that he isn’t allowed to avoid you any longer.”

  “I’m sure that went well for you,” I said dryly as Jasper ushered me inside.

  The yummy smell of baking pizza made my mouth started to water. We placed our orders and sat down to wait in one of the plastic booths.

  In the pleasure of Jasper’s presence, I forgot about the fact that we were supposed to be there with Mr. Wolf. I forgot about the fact that we had just solved another murder, and that sometime during the spring festival I’d have to sp
eak with Detective Cutter about it. Jasper and I just relaxed and had fun.

  He started out by telling me how being in charge of the Hayview project was going. He was now president of the corporation, after all, and that meant a lot.

  “I get a lot of invitations to dinner galas and the like,” he explained.

  “Fancy,” I smiled through a large bite of pizza.

  “We could go together sometime,” he offered.

  “Sure,” I said without a second thought.

  A few other people came in and out, but the hustle and bustle were dying down this late in the evening, except for one thing.

  The pizza parlor’s phone rang constantly, so I thought nothing of it when I heard the manager answer the phone and then bellow, “Hello?” into the receiving end.

  “Lemmi!” the man yelled.

  Epilogue

  It turned out to be Greer, calling from the landline at the farmhouse to tell me that the shed in the back yard was on fire.

  Jasper could tell from my facial expression that something was terribly wrong. He scooted out of his seat and hurried over to me.

  “Okay,” I said, “we’re coming. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, Deacon’s here too. We’re trying to put it out. I wanted you to know, but I have to go,” she said.

  We paid our bill and hurried out of the pizza parlor as fast as we could.

  We took Jasper’s truck, figuring we could go back and get my Beetle later. I could smell the smoke even before we came in sight of the farmhouse. When I caught a glimpse of the house across the street that Jasper was fixing up, my eyes skated over the dark structure, hoping it wasn’t under attack too. Because surely, I told myself, that was what was going on at my place.

  Fortunately, all looked quiet at the Manor Portrait House.

  We parked between Deacon’s truck and Hansen’s vehicle and hurried to get to the back shed. The air had a gray film to it from the fire. There weren’t even any ghosts to greet us; I figured they must all be out back.

  Sure enough, as we came careening around the side of the farmhouse we found our friends, both ghostly and living.

  Charlie, Greer, Hansen, and Deacon were battling the blaze, dumping water on the fire from old spackle buckets.

  The sky had filled with smoke, so the stars were obscured. Several of the ghosts stood by watching, while Paws barked out orders.

  Nobody was listening to the cat, who was again in full armor.

  “Paws! Will you shut up!” cried Greer threw another bucket of water on the blaze.

  I saw Deacon’s head swivel and his eyebrows snap together. Then he turned his attention back to fighting the fire, which had to be the first priority no matter what might happen next.

  We formed a bucket line, because the only hose I had was old and short and didn’t reach the shed. Charlie filled buckets as fast as she could, while the rest of us handed them down until they reached Deacon. He then threw the full bucket of water on the fire.

  I don’t know how long we worked. Foolishly, it didn’t even occur to me to use my wand, not that I had a spell for disappearing fires. Besides, Deacon was there.

  Finally, Deacon yelled something. I was too far away to hear what he’d said, but Jasper relayed it to me. “He says the fire is under control. The shed is mostly gone anyway.”

  I paused, my arms aching from the effort it had taken to move the buckets quickly. My eyes were watering and my throat felt scraped. When my head swiveled toward the shed, my heart squeezed.

  My grandmother’s old shed had for all practical purposes burned to the ground. The handles of gardening tools stuck out from the rubble, but the rest was too much in cinders to really tell what was left. A thick curl of smoke still issued from the spot where the blaze had been fiercest.

  Deacon was standing still, his button down shirt covered in falling ash and a streak of dirt across his cheek. Even from a distance I could see that he was breathing hard. We all were.

  “Ohh, how awful,” Charlie murmured softly.

  Hansen rubbed his forearm across his face, then heaved a sigh. “Everyone okay?”

  We all nodded mutely.

  I glanced at Jasper. His face was tight.

  “What happened?” I gasped.

  Greer shook her head. She had a streak of soot over her forehead and her eyes were red and feverish. “We came home and I started dinner,” she said. “At work I had broken two glasses. I just couldn’t concentrate, what with you out confronting Mrs. Robertson and everything going on with the wedding. Now I was home in the kitchen, and I smelled smoke. For a second I thought it was my cooking, then I realized it wasn’t.”

  “It was the dark ghosts,” said Paws from down around our feet.

  Five pairs of eyes turned to stare at the armored ghost.

  “I’m going to have to agree with the cat,” said Mrs. Goodkeep. All the ghosts looked sad.

  “That’s the only explanation,” said Charlie.

  “The fire was deliberately set,” said Greer.

  I looked around at my friends’ faces. We had formed a ring, with Jasper and Hansen both looking furious, Charlie’s brow furrowing, and Greer looking downright exhausted from battling the blaze the longest.

  Deacon was standing a little apart from us, his arms wrapped around his chest, his eyes fixed on the burned-out hulk of the old shed. Occasionally his eyes would flick to one of us, then flick away as if they’d been singed by something other than flames.

  He kept tensing his fists, and relaxing, and tensing again.

  Suddenly, my heart squeezed and my ears started to ring.

  Greer hadn’t told him our secret yet, but he had obviously realized that something strange was going on. Finally he took his eyes away from what was left of the shed, looked hard at Greer, and said, “Can I talk to you?” His voice sounded strangled, as if he was struggling to keep it together.

  Everyone stopped.

  Everything stopped.

  All the ghosts’ heads swiveled in his direction. The harshness of his tone wasn’t just from all the smoke he’d inhaled.

  Greer nodded, her eyes wide, and the two of them walked into the house.

  The rest of us exchanged looks. Charlie mouthed to me, “What do you think?”

  I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. We would know soon enough. Charlie bit her lip and looked after our friends. Jasper too was watching them closely, having figured out what had happened.

  We had been so preoccupied with the fire that we had responded to Paws in front of Deacon. That is, he had heard us talking to someone who wasn’t there, something he couldn’t see. We hadn’t let him into the witch world gently. Now Greer was going to have to explain herself.

  Knowing that there was nothing to do but wait it out, Charlie and Hansen went back to what was left of the shed, while Jasper moved closer to me.

  “We have to talk to your grandfather. He’s going to have to make time,” I muttered. “He might be the only one who can get Madame Rosalie to see reason. Otherwise I don’t know what’s going to happen to Mintwood, but I promise you it isn’t going to be good.”

  “It might not be good, but I can promise you in return that talking to my granddad may not be good either,” Jasper murmured. Then he thought for a moment and added, “Still, I guess we don’t have a choice.”

  As we talked, we started walking toward the front yard. I needed to look closely at the shed, but it could wait. At the moment, I was too angry about its destruction to think calmly about it. When we got around to the porch and the driveway, we found Deacon and Greer standing silent, Deacon dressed and holding his suitcase, obviously preparing to leave. Greer looked devastated and panicked. Without having to talk about it, Jasper and I increased our pace.

  The wind was blustering around us, blowing cold air into my eyes. As I blinked and my eyes teared up, I saw Deacon turn to leave.

  To my shock, he gave me a black look as he passed. I wasn’t certain what he was thinking when his eyes met Jasper’
s, but it clearly wasn’t good.

  Greer was still standing where Deacon had left her, tears streaming down her face.

  Then something seemed to rally within her and she raced for Deacon, her hands outstretched, a sob escaping from her lips. Deacon stopped near Jasper and me. The three of us looked at Deacon with fear. Then Hansen and Charlie came around from the back yard and stood a few feet away. Charlie’s brow was furrowed and Hansen watched silently.

  Deacon’s usually jovial face was slack, and sweat was trickling down his brow. He had tried to scrub the dirt from his cheek and only partially succeeded. He was staring at Greer as if he’d never seen her before.

  Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

  Pain was written in every line of her face.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He stepped away from her. “It’s like I don’t know you at all.”

  Greer covered her face with her hands as Deacon sped down the driveway and drove away from her.

  Anger and sadness boiled inside me. Deacon had learned my secret, but not at all in the way I had imagined.

  “Where are you going?” Charlie asked, as I started to move toward the house.

  “To the kitchen. I want a spell. A BIG spell. I’m going to put an invisible shield around all of Mintwood. And maybe the whole county!

  “No more Miss Nice Witch,” I said.

  The End

  ~

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  By Addison Creek

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