Witch in the Dell--And 2 New Mini Mysteries

by Cate Dean

  “Oh, no,” she whispered.

  He had his hand pressed on the sprawled figure’s chest, blood staining his fingers.

  “Do you have your mobile, Maggie?”

  “Yeah.” She was already pulling it out.

  “Ring my dad. Same number you have for me. It looks like a gunshot wound.”

  Her fingers shook as she punched in the number.

  “Mr. Knight? This is Maggie Mulgrew.”

  “Ah, Maggie. Spencer has bent our ears talking about you.”

  “Mr. Knight. We’re at the old graveyard—”

  “Near the Cameron mansion?”

  “Yes. We—” She swallowed, and turned away. “We found someone in the graveyard, and I think they’ve been shot.”

  Mr. Knight’s voice changed immediately. “Are you both safe?”

  “There’s no one else here. Spencer is putting pressure on the wound, but the man’s unconscious.”

  “We are already on the way, Maggie. If you see anyone approach that is not in a silver sedan, I want you to take Spencer and run. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hold the mobile to Spencer’s ear for me, love.”

  She moved to Spencer’s side, so rattled she barely caught Mr. Knight’s endearment.

  “Dad.” Spencer listened, all his focus on the wounded man. “I’m not leaving him. There’s no one else here, Dad.” He sighed, and spoke again. “Yes, I’ll take care of Maggie before a stranger. Please hurry. I don’t know how long he was here before we found him.”

  He nodded at Maggie and she moved the phone, noticing that Mr. Knight had already ended the call.

  “Do you know him, Spencer?”

  He shook his head. “He could be a tourist, or someone like me, who visits graveyards, hoping for ghosts. I’m so sorry, Maggie.”

  “You couldn’t have known.” She crouched next to him, surprised that the blood didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. “Can I do something?”

  “Watch for my dad. I need to keep pressure on the wound.”

  “Okay.” She stood, and headed for the gate. She was also going to watch for anyone who looked like they might have—

  “Maggie!”

  She whirled at Spencer’s shout and ran back to him. “What is it?”

  “There’s something near his hand. Do you see it?”

  She knelt, pressing down the tall grass, and gasped when she got her first good look. Just like her favorite book detective would, she used one of the gloves in her jacket pocket to pick it up, preserving any possible evidence.

  Sunlight danced off the beautifully cut emerald pendant, making the emerald and the diamonds surrounding it sparkle. Diamonds and emeralds created the glittering strands of the necklace. It was heavy, looked old, and had obviously belonged to someone with money.

  “Spencer...” She held the necklace up so he could see it.

  “I know that necklace, Mags. I’ve seen it before.”

  “Where?”

  He gestured with his head, and Maggie looked over her shoulder. Just visible in the waving grass was the foundation and partial walls of what must have been the mansion.

  “There’s a portrait that survived the fire in the village museum, of Mrs. Cameron. She was wearing that necklace.”

  ***

  Spencer’s parents arrived, the local police and a doctor right behind them.

  The doctor gently moved Spencer aside and took over; Spencer’s dad pulled him to his feet.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve been better, Dad.” He tried for a smile, and failed. His mom wrapped her arm around Maggie’s waist and reached for Spencer. “I’m all right, Mum.”

  “And I want both of you away from this, in case whoever attacked that poor man returns.” His mom led them both to the car, and let go long enough to pull tissue out of her coat pocket. “Let’s get some of the blood off you.” She started to wipe at Spencer’s bloodstained hand, then dropped the tissue and pulled him into her arms. “Oh, Spencer.”

  “I’m all right, Mum.” His voice was muffled against her shoulder.

  “What if you had shown up earlier? Walked into the middle of the assault?”

  “We didn’t. And I would have seen another person a mile off, turned around, and taken Maggie back to the village.”

  “I know you would have.” To Maggie’s surprise, Mrs. Knight reached out and included her into the hug. “I just shudder at the thought of what might have happened.”

  “We’re all right, Mum.” Spencer’s voice was still muffled, but Maggie heard the sincerity. “We’re all right.”

  “Right.” Mrs. Knight let them go, gently tucking a stray curl behind Maggie’s ear. The gesture had tears stinging her eyes. “Dad is going to take you back. Your aunt has been contacted, Maggie, and she is on her way. You can stay with us until she arrives.”

  Dread churned in Maggie’s stomach. Because of her, Aunt Irene had to cut her antique hunting trip short. She was probably going to be furious.

  “Mum—can Maggie and I go to the library?” Spencer didn’t look at Maggie, but she understood; he wanted to research the necklace. “We can’t get into any trouble there.”

  “I suppose not. I will come and fetch you when your aunt arrives, Maggie.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Oh, please, call me Candace, love. I want to look over my shoulder to find the old woman behind me when you call me ma’am.”

  Maggie tried not to smile, and failed miserably. To her shock, Mrs. Knight burst out laughing.

  Spencer nudged Maggie with his elbow. “It was meant to be funny, Mags. So smile, already.”

  “Spencer Knight.”

  “What? I’m just stating a fact. I don’t believe Maggie’s mum has a sense of humor, so she doesn’t know how to react.”

  “First of all, Spencer, you will not speak of a stranger in such a rude manner.” She moved to Maggie and cradled her cheek. “My sweet girl. We consider laughing every day to be part of our family dynamic. I hope we don’t offend.” She winked at Maggie, and the tears she’d been fighting slipped free, along with a watery laugh.

  “No, Mrs. Kn—Candace. I get in trouble all the time when my smart remarks slip out. I can’t seem to help myself.”

  Spencer took her hand. “See, Mum? I told you she’s the sister I never had.”

  Mrs. Knight—Candace, Maggie had to remember to call her Candace—wiped at the tears on Maggie’s cheeks before she let go.

  “All right, you two can head to the library. But only the library, Spencer.”

  “Yes, Mum. Thanks.” He kissed her cheek before he pulled Maggie over to the cars. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of her—she’s already worried. But we’re going to—ˮ

  “Research the necklace.” She smiled at his wide-eyed stare. “I can draw it, for reference. An emerald that size will have some kind of history.”

  “Yeah. I’m guessing it ain’t good.” He turned when Mr. Knight joined them. “Did Mum tell you—ˮ

  “About the library? Yes, Spencer. I will drop you and Maggie there. Maggie, do you have your mobile?”

  She pulled it out of her pocket. “Yes, sir.”

  “John will do. Keep it on for me, love. We will ring you when your aunt has returned.”

  “Okay.” She was starting to get used to the endearments. Part of her was afraid that the lack at home would be even more noticeable after a summer spent with Spencer and her aunt. “Did my aunt sound angry?”

  “She is worried, Maggie. I told her we would be happy to look after you, but she insisted on returning early.” John laid one hand on her shoulder. “I understand you have known her for a short time, but Irene is a good woman. She spent years fighting with your mother to bring you here.”

  “Years?” Maggie whispered. She was afraid the tears would start again. She’d never been this emotional before.

  “You are her only grand-niece, and she wanted you to hav
e the opportunity to live in a different place, if only for a month or two of the year. Do you like it here?”

  “I love it!” She bit her lips, heat rushing to her cheeks. Spencer squeezed her hand. “I love my parents, so much, but they aren’t affectionate. I didn’t realize how much I wanted that until I got here.”

  “We will be certain to shower you with it.” John leaned down to kiss the top of her head, then strode to the car. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Spencer opened the front passenger door for her before climbing into the back seat. “Dad—is the man going to be all right?”

  “Thanks to you and Maggie finding him.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to ask me about the necklace?”

  “I—well, we were going to do some research.”

  “At the library. You didn’t tell your mum?”

  “No! She would have locked me in my room.”

  “Why?” Maggie watched the exchange with interest.

  John smiled at her. “Spencer’s ‘research’ has gotten him into hot water more than once.”

  “The book said the house was deserted! And the door was unlocked!” Spencer crossed his arms, looking defiant. “I even knocked before I went in.”

  Starting the car, John looked over at Maggie before he pulled away. “Spencer likes to hunt down ghosts. Sometimes, those places are currently occupied.”

  “Once! I walked into a house with people living there—once! Won’t I ever live that down?”

  “Highly unlikely, son of mine.”

  Spencer let out a growl, and Maggie laughed, holding on as they bumped over the field.

  How would she be able to leave this at the end of the summer?

  ***

  Spencer’s dad told them what he knew about the necklace, on the way to the village library. It would narrow down their research considerably—especially since he knew the name of the necklace.

  “It’s called the Pharaoh’s Eye,” he said. “The emerald supposedly comes from an ancient necklace belonging to a Pharaoh’s wife. It also has a curse.”

  Maggie gasped, and Spencer leaned forward. “A real curse?”

  “From what I’ve read, every male who has owned the necklace has died, or nearly died. The last owner was Daniel Cameron.”

  “The Cameron?”

  “The very same.”

  “Wow,” Spencer said. “What happened to the necklace after the fire?”

  “It was never found. At the time, the police assumed that it had been stolen by whoever set the fire.”

  “The fire Mr. Cameron died in,” Maggie said. “That was more than a hundred years ago. I wonder where the necklace has been all this time.”

  “Such a famous jewel wouldn’t have been easy to sell, especially at the time,” John said. “Whoever took most likely stashed it, hoping to find a buyer after the furor died down.”

  Spencer looked at Maggie, and she knew without him saying so exactly what he wanted to do.

  “Dad—I need your help.”

  “For what, Spencer?”

  “I want to use the computer at the library, but I need—ˮ

  “An adult.” He was quiet as they drove down the hill. “All right. I suppose you can hardly get into trouble doing a bit of poking. But that is all, Spencer Knight. If your mum finds out, I will be sleeping on the sofa.”

  “She won’t hear from me. Thanks, Dad.” Spencer hugged his dad from behind, and Maggie smiled when John patted his son’s arm.

  They pulled into a small side street, as close to the library as they could get, since it stood at the bottom of the pedestrian high street. Maggie and Spencer got out, waving to his dad before they ran around to the front of the building. He would park and join them, long enough to get them set up on the computer.

  Maggie fell in love as soon as she stepped inside. A high ceiling rose over her, braced with age darkened oak beams. She wandered a little while they waited for John, and ran her hand over the top of a long, scarred wood table. A smile spread across her face when she peeked into more than one quaint, oddly shaped room that branched off the main part of the library.

  It was all so different from what she had grown up with—sleek, ultra-modern, and impeccable. She loved every inch of this place.

  “Mags.” Spencer waved to her, and she joined him, waiting while John signed in for one of the computers.

  Luck was with them; the only available computer was around the corner from the hawk-eyed research librarian. Before they even sat, John sent Spencer to the bathroom to wash his hands.

  Spencer looked down at his bloodstained hands, his excitement fading. “I forgot about the blood. Sorry, Dad.”

  “Never be sorry for helping another person, Spence. I am afraid your shirt won’t survive, however.”

  Spencer opened his coat, revealing the streaks of blood on one side.

  “I’ll leave my coat on. Mum didn’t see this.”

  “Then we will sneak it out in the trash. No need for her to be traumatized by the blood.”

  “Dad!” Spencer lowered his voice when a patron glared at them. “She’s not delicate.”

  “When you were close to a potential murder site, she will be delicate. Leave the shirt in your closet, and I will smuggle it out. Best all around.”

  “Right.”

  He headed for the bathroom, and John sat in front of the computer, entering the password supplied by the librarian. “You will have an hour, so make good use of it. Are you all right, Maggie? I am going to assume you don’t stumble across bleeding men on a regular basis at home.”

  “No—and yeah, I’m okay. Spencer was so calm, I didn’t even think about panicking.”

  “He has always been good in a crisis, that boy of mine. Thank you for taking a chance on him. His personality tends to scare off most kids his age.”

  “So does mine.” She smiled. “I really like him.”

  “He really likes you back.” John winked at her, then looked over her shoulder. “Here he comes. Let’s keep this between us.”

  “Sure.”

  John stood, and kissed Spencer’s forehead. “Have a productive search. If you decide to follow Maggie home, ring us.”

  “I will, Dad.”

  As soon as the librarian had her back turned, John left, and Spencer sat, spreading his fingers dramatically.

  “Ready for the first search?”

  “As soon as you’re done performing, Spence.”

  He grinned at her, then typed in one of the search terms they had written down. He went for the big one first—Pharaoh’s Eye necklace.

  Dozens of results popped up—every single one of them mentioning the curse.

  “Listen to this,” Spencer said. “The infamous Pharaoh’s Eye, said to be lost since the tragic fire, was seen around the neck of a London socialite at a charity event. There’s a link to the photo.”

  He clicked on it, and they both leaned in, squinting at the grainy image.

  “It’s hard to tell,” Maggie said. “But that looks like it.” She held up the quick sketch she did. “The shape of the pendant is right. So, how did it get from London to here? And how did she end up with it?”

  Spencer smiled at her. “Let’s find out.”

  Several searches later, they found their answer. Belinda Noble, the socialite, was descended from the man suspected of killing Daniel Cameron.

  “Wow,” Spencer said, leaning back in the chair. “It looks like they did have a suspect.”

  “One who got away with it.”

  “Maybe not. Up for scrambling your eyesight, looking at microfilm?”

  She laughed. “Sure.”

  Spencer wasn’t exaggerating. By the time they found what they were looking for, she had a headache, and felt a little seasick. But they read several articles, taking down notes. Ben Noble and Cameron had been rivals, for the land the mansion stood on, and for Mrs. Cameron.

  They also discovered that the necklace had been hers, handed down to the women in h
er family.

  “I wonder,” Maggie said, “if it was Mrs. Cameron they wanted, or the necklace.”

  “If I knew about that bloody curse, I’d stay far, far away.”

  “Greed can make people stupid.”

  “True.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m starving. You want to head over to the café, get something to eat?”

  “Why don’t we go to my house?” It felt good to say that. “Aunt Irene will want me to come home as soon as she gets back.”

  “Sounds good. She always has the best leftovers.” He grinned, and stood, stretching his back. “When we get there, I’ll ring my dad to let him know, see if there’s news about the man we found.”

  They walked out of the library, Maggie bracing for the inevitable slap of wind. She had gotten in the habit of pulling her hair back before she left the house, but stray hair always managed to get free, blowing around her face.

  This time wasn’t any different. With a huff she shoved the hair out of her face and tucked it back into her ponytail. When she looked up, she found Spencer watching her.

  “What?”

  “I love your hair. It’s vibrant, and alive, just like you.”

  “Thanks, Spence.”

  He took her hand, winking at her. “Anytime, Mags.”

  They walked up the high street, talking about anything that came to mind. It was a quirk Maggie had discovered about Spencer their first day together; he could change topics without blinking. Since her mind worked the same way, she had been thrilled to find someone who could keep up with what her parents called her random babbling.

  The longer she stayed here, the more she realized that what her parents disliked were turning out to be the parts of her personality that people like Spencer and Aunt Irene admired. That discovery bolstered her self-confidence, and she planned to keep it when she went back. To remember that there were people outside the walls of her parents’ immaculate penthouse who liked Maggie, quirks and all.

  Her mobile rang as they reached the long driveway. Maggie pulled it out of her coat pocket and looked at the screen.

  “It’s Aunt Irene. She must be back.” Maggie answered the call. “Aunt Irene—I’m right outside—ˮ

  “Run, Maggie! Run now—ˮ A grunt of pain cut her aunt off.