Old Witch New Tricks

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Old Witch New Tricks Page 5

by Mara Webb


  Though I didn’t have all the answers, something had hold of my intuition.

  “Is she on set now?” Deacon asked.

  “No, she finished filming earlier this afternoon,” Sylvia said. “I believe she is staying at Tyson’s place up in the hills.”

  “Can you get us an address?”

  Sylvia nodded and ran off to fetch the address. Deacon dismissed Marty and he turned to look at me. “Initial thoughts?” he whispered to me.

  “No immediate suspicions. I overhead an argument earlier though, between Tyson and this girl.”

  “Heated?”

  “Sort of. Tyson was accusing her of cheating.”

  “That could make her a suspect in this,” Deacon surmised.

  “One that supposedly wasn’t here,” I pointed out.

  He scratched his chin and smiled at me. “The plot thickens!”

  5

  After that Deacon and I took my mother home and drove out of Pendle town, heading in the direction of the fancy houses on the hilltop that looked over the town. This was another part of Pendle town I had yet to visit up close. The houses were regularly visible from the town below, and they sure looked fancy enough.

  “Mostly retired actors and rich finance types up here,” Deacon said as we followed the winding road in his cruiser. “I know one thing for sure, if you live up here you have money.”

  I stared at the big houses flying past my window and fantasized that maybe Deacon and I could one day live somewhere like this. That’s not to say I wasn’t happy with my old Victorian in the woods mind, the house I’d inherited from My Great Aunt Griselda was more beautiful than anything I’d ever expected to own.

  The people around here though, they were clearly living on an entirely different plane of existence. This was the world of sports cars, exotic bars and frequent around-the-world trips to beach resorts and foreign capital cities. I wasn’t sure if it was something a regular person could ever truly aspire to, or if you just had to be born into it.

  “This one, on the left, Number 40!” I shouted as I saw the numbers glint in Deacon’s headlights, he pulled his cruiser off the road and turned up the drive, stopping at a set of large gates. Beyond the gates was a modern mansion with lots of big windows. Deacon pulled the cruiser up to an intercom and buzzed it. A ringing sound followed and then a man answered.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Sheriff Deacon Long, here to see a…” Deacon paused and looked at his note pad, “A Miss Winnie Willis. Please open the gates.”

  A moment of silence followed before the voice on the other end responded. “I’m sorry but Miss Willis is not here right now.”

  Deacon looked over at me and sighed. “Who am I talking to?”

  “…Manuel. I am the housekeeper.”

  “Well Manuel, I am here to see Miss Willis in regard to a murder investigation. Can you tell me where she is?”

  “I’m sorry sir, I don’t have that information, I just look after the house. I can take a message for you?”

  “I’m going to leave my business card on the intercom. Tell her to call me when she gets back.”

  “Yes, sir. Good night.”

  Deacon turned around on the drive and started back in the direction of town. “What’s your take on that?”

  “Try again tomorrow.” I shrugged. “We did get a contact number for her. Let me try that.” I flipped through Deacon’s notes and found Winnie’s number. The call went straight to voicemail, suggesting that her phone was turned off. “No luck.”

  “Hm. Hopefully she’s not in trouble too. It’s probably best we leave things here tonight and pick it up again in the morning.” He let out a long yawn. “What do you say, Chinese and a movie at my place?”

  “Sounds great,” I said. “I just hope things are going okay at my house. Should we stop over there first?”

  “I think if either of us wants to get some sleep tonight that’s probably not a good idea.” I thought about it and dreaded to think how Artemis, Serena, and my mom might be turning the house upside down. “We can check if you really want to?” he offered.

  “No, on second thoughts I’m quite happy sticking my head in the sand. Things can’t be that bad, right?”

  Ha!

  “My house is pink,” I said as I climbed out of Deacon’s cruiser the following morning.

  “There’s probably a rational explanation,” Deacon said to me.

  “Deacon!” I said through my teeth. “My house is pink!”

  “Uh… yeah,” he said as he laughed in disbelief. “I have no answers. Let’s just go inside and see what happened.”

  We went up the porch stairs and I opened the front door. Old Mad John, the resident pirate ghost that haunted my home, rushed towards us with a hearty ‘Get Out!’. He, for some reason, could only say those two words.

  He broke into smoke around us and disappeared on the air and I turned to see a rather stunned Deacon standing beside me. “What the… heck was that?!” he said, his face ashen and gray.

  Poor Deacon had only recently found out about my powers, and about magic as a whole. He’d never been able to see Old Mad John before now, but it seemed that learning about magic had finally given him the ability to do so.

  “That is Old Mad John, I told you about him. He’s the old deranged pirate ghost that haunts my home.”

  “He seems a little… hostile.”

  “No, he’s lovely, but he can only say those two words for some reason. I did warn you about him the other day, but I forgot you hadn’t met him yet, sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, his eyes still staring into the distance. “I just wasn’t expecting to see that. Let’s just go inside and find out why your house is pink.”

  We walked into the kitchen to find Serena sitting at the kitchen table. She had two great big boots in her lap, and she was sowing them together with a needle and thread. Adam was on the opposite side of the table, eating a bowl of porridge while he looked over the paper.

  “Morning Chelsea,” he said. He looked up and realized Deacon was there too. “Morning Sheriff.”

  “Chelsea, Deacon!” Serena said excitedly and jumped out of her chair. “Can I get you some breakfast? Eggs? Waffles?” She ran over to Deacon and jabbed his midriff. “Donuts?”

  “Serena!” I exclaimed.

  “Sorry,” she said, skittering away from us and giggling nervously as she went back to sewing her boots together.

  “Adam, you do know she’s sewing your boots together, right?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a note of indifference. “I’m starting to suspect her shifter sickness isn’t all the way healed.”

  “Shifter sickness?” Deacon said.

  Poor guy. He really had a lot to catch up on. “Serena has just spent a long time in animal form, Deacon. That’s her magic, she can take on the form of animals. She spent a long time as the Pendle Puma, and now she’s human again it’ll take a bit of time for her to remember how to act.”

  “Wait,” Deacon said as he put two and two together. He’d been a lifelong fan of the Pendle Puma, a creature we all suspected was an urban legend up until recently, and I guessed this was kind of like meeting Elvis for Deacon. “So the Pendle Puma is real?!”

  “Guilty as charged!” Serena said, turning back to hold her hands up. “How do you guys like your vinyl records? Over easy, or well done?”

  I glanced over to the hob and saw a stack of vinyl records stacked up on the counter. I rushed over and snatched them out of Serena’s hands before she could do any more damage. “That settles it. Your kitchen privileges are being revoked. You are obviously not better.” I looked at Adam. “Why aren’t you stopping any of this?”

  “Chelsea I’ve had shifter sickness myself, it’s best just to let these things run their course. She’ll get better faster. Plus, those are my boots and my records she is wrecking. The quicker we get this done, the better.”

  “Your house isn’t pink though, is it?!” I said.


  “Um,” Serena said, raising a hand as she stepped in front of me. “That one wasn’t me.”

  “Well then—”

  “Chelsea!” Mom sang as she came into the kitchen. She sauntered right past me, kissed the air by my face and did the same with Deacon. “Sheriff! Oh, how are you both on this fabulous January morning!”

  “It’s December,” we all said in unison. Mom stopped, confusion on her face. Her smile faltered. “Oh, is it?”

  “Why is my house pink?” I demanded.

  “Let’s be honest darling, it needed a fresh lick of paint.”

  “A fresh lick of hot pink paint?!”

  “Artemis picked the color! I just helped him perform the ritual!”

  “Deacon you might need to step outside for a moment, because there’s about to be a double homicide.”

  “Now I kind of have to stay,” he said. “I can’t reasonably leave here and let you commit murder. Someone will end up making a crumby Netflix documentary about it.”

  “Oh, that would be delightful!” Mom said. “I wonder who they’d get to play me. Maybe Goldie Hawn?!”

  “Number one, actresses don’t star in documentaries, and number two, you’re nowhere near as pretty as Goldie Hawn,” I said. Mom’s mouth fell wide open in shock.

  “How very dare you!”

  “Look, just grab Artemis and turn my house back to a nice color, will you? I don’t know if you noticed, but hot pink really isn’t my vibe.”

  “Darling I couldn’t even if I wanted to, the little monster took off running when I broke that charm keeping him tethered to the house grounds. He’s probably halfway to China by now!”

  “You… what?” I said in a moment of disbelief. Artemis had been trapped in the confines of the house boundaries ever since he became a familiar here. He’d only been able to leave recently thanks to an astral necklace that Lizzy and I put together. In the last century the little black cat hadn’t physically been further away from this house than Adam’s shack at the bottom of the yard.

  “It’s a barbaric charm, darling!” she said. “Think of it this way, he’s been under house arrest for a century, that’s enough to drive anyone mad!”

  “Yes, and Artemis is stark raving bonkers. Change is not something he is accustomed to! He could get lost mom, or worse, hurt!”

  “He’s probably fine, we managed to get rid of the jungle in the back garden, so we know at the very least that he’s not there.”

  I paused for a moment. I’d completely forgot that my mom had opened up a portal to some jungle right behind my house. “That’s a small piece of good news at least.” I glanced over at Deacon, who looked more confused than anyone else ever had. “How are you doing? Keeping up okay?”

  “This is all very strange,” he said.

  “Welcome to my world honey.” I looked at mom and took a deep breath. “I need you to do me a favor, stay here and watch Serena for a few hours. Just don’t let her do any of the weird stuff she wants to do.” I looked at Serena. “Serena, do me another favor. Do the same thing, but for my mother.”

  “The blind lead the blind,” Adam said from behind his paper.

  “You,” I said, pointing at the groundskeeper. “Find Artemis. You of all people will be able to find him.”

  “Me?!” He lowered his paper and looked at me as if I was crazy. “Why would I know where he is?”

  “Because you’re basically best friends, even though you act like mortal enemies. Where do you think Artemis would go if he could finally leave the house?”

  “Skeeter’s video shop, or the Korean nail place downtown. There’s this familiar there, and Artemis is convinced they’re dating.”

  “Sounds like a start. Go find him and bring him back. He talks a big game, but he hasn’t been out in the real world on his own for over a century Adam. I’m worried something bad will happen.”

  Adam sighed but pushed his chair back from the table. “Ugh. I’ll find the little fluffball, but not because he’s my friend. This is purely an employee handling a work responsibility.”

  “Spin it however you like, just bring him back!” I turned and looked at Deacon. “Shall we go?”

  “But it’s so relaxing here,” he joked.

  “Oh do stay!” mom said. “You can both have coffee with Serena and I before you go!”

  “We have got a murder case to solve,” Deacon said, “but it might be best we swing by later and pick you up before we head back to the studio. I need to write down your statement properly, and I haven’t had chance yet.”

  “Yay!” mom said and clapped her hands together quickly. “Another mom and daughter day!” She squished me in an unsolicited hug, and I squirmed my way out.

  “You’re still in the doghouse for painting my home pink. Fix it back, and make sure Serena doesn’t do any more damage!”

  “Don’t worry!” Serena shouted as we headed out of the kitchen. “Your Mom and I will take real good care of this place!”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” I muttered under my breath.

  Deacon and I got back in his police cruiser and drove back to the fancy houses up on the hill. Part of the drive was in silence, and I got the feeling that my human boyfriend was trying to digest all the magical nonsense this morning.

  “So… there was a jungle in your back garden?” he asked.

  “I think we had a good run Deacon, if all this is too much for you, I won’t be upset. I understand that I come with a lot of baggage.”

  Deacon laughed. “You think you’re getting away from me that easily? I’m just processing. That’s all. What’s the deal with the pirate ghost by the way?”

  “We genuinely don’t know. He seems to guard the house for some reason, apparently he’s been there for a long time. The weird thing is that ghosts aren’t supposed to talk, but Old Mad John can, for some reason, say those two words: Get Out.”

  “You know, I used to be quite into the local history of the island when I was a kid. A lot of people don’t know this, but Pendle Island wasn’t always this sleepy little rock. Many pirates came through here, and smugglers too.”

  “Huh, you don’t say?”

  “There was a pirate more famous than the rest, his name was Greedy John Black. He became something of a local legend when he disappeared while searching for treasure supposedly hidden on Pendle Island.”

  “You think that’s Old Mad John?”

  “Possibly,” Deacon said. “He looked like the illustrations I saw in my history books as a boy. Well, to be honest, it would be kind of cool to sit down and talk with him! I bet he has a whole treasure trove of good stories!”

  “Might want to take a rain check on that one sweetie,” I said. “He can only say two words, remember?”

  “Ah. Drats. Can’t you… I don’t know, wave a magic wand at him or something and fix it all?”

  I laughed. “I wish magic was that easy! As far as I know witches more capable than I have tried to help Old Mad John, but nothing has worked so far.” I felt the weight of my new magical ring around my finger. “Huh. I wonder…”

  “What?”

  “My mom gifted me this ring yesterday,” I said, holding it up so Deacon could see.

  “Oh, it’s err… it’s beau—”

  “I know it’s ugly, you don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

  “Phew,” he said.

  “It’s ugly, but it’s useful too. It used to belong to my Granny Sponks, and she used this ring like a recipe book. She stored all of her magical knowledge in here. If I need to know something now, I just think of a question and rub my thumb over the stone.”

  “Then what happens?” Deacon asked.

  “A little magical version of my old granny appears and then she shouts at me for a minute or two before sometimes giving me an answer.”

  “Is magic always this weird?”

  I thought for a moment. “Yes.”

  A few minutes later we arrived at Tyson’s house again, there was no need to
buzz the intercom this time, the gates were already open, and Deacon just drove on through. The front doors opened just as we climbed out of the car and we saw Winnie, the young actress, emerge from the mansion.

  She froze as she saw us. “Uh… can I help you?” she said.

  “Sheriff Deacon Long. This is my associate Chelsea Sponks. Are you Winnie Willis?”

  “…Yes. What’s going on here? Is this about those parking tickets? I’m going to pay them off right now!”

  “Easy.” Deacon held up his hand. “This is about Tyson Bryce. Do you mind if we come in?”

  “Tyson? What happened?” Winnie said. “Is he okay?”

  “He was murdered,” Deacon said. Winnie suddenly looked off to the side and down. She raised a hand to her mouth, her gaze becoming distant.

  “Oh my.”

  “Do you mind if we come in and ask a few questions?” I asked.

  Winnie nodded absently. She headed back through the door and we followed her into the hallway of the mansion. Sleek black tile floors and tall white walls framed an elegantly modern staircase. The space was deliberately sparse, like something out of a high-end fashion magazine.

  Deacon shut the door behind us and turned to Winnie.

  “Murdered?” she asked. “But how is that possible? Who did it?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” he said. “If possible, we’d like to place your whereabouts yesterday.”

  “Of course,” she said, nodding quickly. I gauged her reaction closely. She seemed like she was probably in shock, her responses were dull and a little muted. “I was at the studio until about three, and then I came back here for the day.”

  “We came to see you here last night,” Deacon said. “You weren’t in.”

  “Right,” she said. “I was picking some things up from my apartment. I was only gone for a half hour; you must have just missed me.”

  “Is your housekeeper around?” I said. “Could he verify that statement?”

  “My who? Oh! The housekeeper.” Winnie laughed nervously. “Sorry. I’ve only just moved in here; I keep forgetting Tyson has all these fancy things. Or… had. Manfred is not here this morning.”

 

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