Witch Is When Life Got Complicated (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 2)

by Adele Abbott

  “I’d rather stay here, if you don’t mind.”

  “Okay, no problem.” I suddenly sensed that he was a goblin. How I knew that, I had no idea.

  “I was near the clubhouse on the day the trophy went missing,” he said.

  “Have the police interviewed you?”

  “No. I don’t want to speak to them.”

  “Why were you there?”

  “I can’t tell you that, I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. What can you tell me?”

  “I was there all of that day and had a perfect view of the clubhouse. During all of that time, I only saw one person enter the building.” Gordy hesitated. “You have to promise me that you won’t reveal me as your source.”

  “I promise.” Like I had a choice.

  “It was Aaron Benway.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He’s the wizard team captain. I’m surprised you don’t know him.”

  “I’m kind of new around here. Did you see him take the trophy?”

  “No. He went into the building, and then—” Gordy looked around again. “He left.”

  “Empty handed?”

  “Yes.”

  “So let me make sure I understand this. You saw Aaron Benway go into the building, and then leave empty handed?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, thank you very much for contacting me.” What a waste of time!

  “Is there a reward?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “If there is, make sure you let me know.”

  “You can bank on it.”

  Chapter 20

  Mrs V was back at her desk and looking decidedly chipper.

  “Good morning, Jill,” she said. “And how are you on this beautiful day?”

  “It’s cold, and pouring with rain.”

  “And all’s well with the world.”

  “Have you been at the wine again?”

  She suddenly became more solemn. “I’m so sorry about the other day. I really don’t know what possessed me.”

  I did—Grandma.

  “Forget it. Everyone’s entitled to a wild night out occasionally.” Except me apparently. I have to make do with the amateur dramatics and the circus. “I guess you and Grandma have a lot in common?”

  “We do. What that woman doesn’t know about knitting isn’t worth knowing. You should get her to tutor you. I bet she’d make a wonderful teacher.”

  If only you knew. “We’ll see. I guess it was a pretty wild night then?”

  “I can’t remember much about it.”

  “What about the boomerang?”

  “Boomerang?”

  “Never mind.”

  “What do you think?” Winky asked.

  “About what?”

  “Eye patch or no eye patch?”

  There were days when I longed for a cat who wanted no more than to meow and rub against my leg. Wasn’t it weird enough that we talked to one another at all? Now he was asking me for fashion advice.

  “Where on earth did you get an eye patch?” Watching him slip it on and off his eye was beginning to freak me out.

  “I bought it online, obviously.”

  Obviously. Silly of me to ask.

  “How else do you think I got it?” He slipped it back on again—it looked kind of cute. “I never get to go anywhere else.”

  “How did you pay for it?”

  “I used your credit card of course.”

  Naturally. “I didn’t realise you could get an eye patch for a cat.”

  “You can’t. That would be stupid.”

  Totally stupid. What was I thinking?

  “It’s a child’s eye patch. From Childrenseyepatches.com.”

  Where else?

  “So what do you think? Eye patch or no?”

  “Do they do it in red?”

  My phone rang, but when I pressed ‘Answer’ there was no one there. It took me a few seconds to realise why the phone was still ringing. It was the ‘burner’ phone in my bag. Note to self—set a different ringtone when using a ‘burner’.

  “Hello?” I faked an accent which was a kind of Danish-Welsh hybrid.

  “I’m calling about the dog,” the man said. “The one on the ‘lost’ poster.”

  The bait had been taken. I recognised his voice from our previous encounter.

  “Have you found my darling Henry?” I said—all Danish-Welsh like. Eat your heart out WADS.

  Just as I expected, he said he’d found my Henry. That was some feat given that said dog did not exist. We arranged a time and place to meet later that day.

  “What was that all about?” Winky asked, after I’d ended the call. “And why were you speaking in a Russian accent?”

  “That was Danish-Welsh.”

  “Are you running some kind of kinky chat line now? Is business that bad?”

  “If you must know, that was part of an elaborate sting.”

  “If you say so.” He slipped the patch back over his eye. “Red? Do you really think so?”

  My ten o’clock appointment arrived ten minutes early.

  “Do you find women?” The lenses in the man’s glasses were so thick that his eyes looked too wide for his head.

  “Yes. That is one of the services we provide.” Every now and then, I liked to throw in the words ‘our’ and ‘we’. I felt like it gave the agency a more professional feel.

  “Is that cat wearing an eye patch?”

  “Yes, he is,” I said as nonchalantly as possible. “Do you think it suits him?”

  “He’s a cat.”

  Good point. “So the woman you’d like me to find? Wife? Girlfriend?”

  “Girlfriend. Definitely girlfriend.”

  “Okay. Let me take a few notes.”

  I eventually found a notepad under the bag of cat litter. See what I meant about ‘professional’?

  “Name?” I said.

  “Name?” He looked confused. This was going to be a long day.

  “The woman’s name?”

  He obviously hadn’t anticipated this level of interrogation, so he had to think for a moment. “Angelina.”

  “And can you describe her? Hair?”

  “Long. Blonde.”

  “Okay. Build?”

  “Tall. Six feet at least.”

  The man was five-seven tops.

  “And slim, but curvy.”

  “Slim, but curvy? When did you last see Angelina?”

  I could tell by his expression that I’d managed to confuse him again, so I had another go. “When was the last time you saw your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “You don’t have one what?”

  “A girlfriend. That’s why I’m here.”

  Had I done something in a previous life to deserve this?

  “When you asked if I found women, you weren’t talking about someone you already know who has gone missing, were you?”

  He shook his head.

  “You want me to find a girlfriend for you, don't you?”

  He nodded.

  “That would be a dating agency. This is a private investigation agency.”

  “Oh.” He looked crestfallen. “So you can’t help then?”

  “He wasn’t here very long,” Mrs V commented, after the young man had left.

  “Do you remember that chat we had a few weeks ago about screening potential clients?”

  “I do. It was very interesting. I made notes.”

  “I think we may have to have a refresher session.”

  “Shall I find my notes from last time?”

  “Not right now. I have to pop out in a few minutes. We’ll do it later.”

  “OK, dear. I’ll look forward to that.”

  I tried to ignore Winky, who was still playing around with his eye patch, as I called the number on the business card.

  “Hello?” She answered on the first ring.

  “Daze? It’s Jill. Amber and Pearl’s cousin.”

  “I
remember who you are.” She laughed. “My memory isn’t that bad.”

  “Sorry. I have something which I think might interest you.”

  “Okay. Why don’t we meet up and discuss it over coffee?”

  “I’m in Washbridge.”

  “So am I.”

  “I’ve actually arranged to meet my sister in a few minutes.”

  “How about lunch then?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Kathy was at our usual table. “You’re late!”

  “Sorry. I had a time-waster this morning. He thought I was running a dating agency.”

  “As if.” She laughed. “You can’t even get yourself a date.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Talking of dates.” She grinned. “I have good news for you.”

  “The answer’s no. I don’t care who he is, I don’t want to meet him. I’m done with your blind dates.”

  She sat back in her seat and grinned even more.

  “What have you done?” She had me worried now.

  “Guess who the lucky winner of the WADS raffle is.”

  Life could not possibly be so cruel. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

  “Congratulations.”

  “No. This is a joke.”

  “No joke.” She was enjoying this way too much. “Jack and Jill are going on a date.”

  “You rigged it.”

  “How could I rig it? I had nothing to do with it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You have no choice.”

  “I hate him almost as much as he hates me.”

  “You’re going even if I have to drag you there myself. Think of it as an opportunity to bury the hatchet—”

  “In his head?”

  “If the two of you can iron out your differences, you might at least end up with a better working relationship.”

  “You could go in my place.”

  “I’m married in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “How long does it take to get a divorce?”

  I ordered a second slice of Victoria sponge. After that body blow, I needed it.

  We sat in silence for the next few minutes. I was still shell shocked.

  “My life is over.” I managed eventually.

  “You’re being melodramatic as usual. It won’t be that bad. Anyway, what else is happening with you at the moment? I rely on you to liven up my mundane existence.”

  “I turned a donkey into a frog. Or a toad. I’m not sure which.”

  “Come on. Haven’t you got any juicy news?”

  “Mrs V and Grandma had a night on the tiles.”

  “Mrs V? I didn’t think she had it in her.”

  “Judging by the state she was in the next morning, she doesn’t. They were both spark out in my office when I came in to work. There was a pair of men’s boxers on my chair.”

  “Whose were they?”

  “I’ve no idea. Mrs V said something about sailors.”

  “It’s a bit much when two old spinsters have more of a social life than we do. You and I should have a night out some time.”

  “Good idea—I know just the night.”

  “No, no, no. You can’t cancel your date with Maxwell. You and I can go out together another night.”

  Drat, and double drat. Did she have no mercy?

  “Anyway?” I said. “How are Peter and the kids?”

  Kathy hesitated a moment too long.

  “What? Is someone ill?”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s Mikey. He says he’s being bullied.”

  If there’s one thing I couldn’t stand it was a bully. “Who by?”

  “A boy in his class. I’ve been to see the teacher, but she insists that nothing is going on. Mikey says the boy pushes him around whenever the teacher isn’t looking.”

  “What does Peter say?”

  “He told Mikey to thump the kid. Idiot! As if that would help.”

  I checked my watch; I’d lost track of time and was in danger of being late for my lunch meeting with Daze. “Sorry, I have to go. I hope you get things sorted out with Mikey.”

  “Okay. And if you need me to help you pick out a new outfit for your date with Jackie Boy, just give me a call.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  It was a stupid thing to do. I’d only taken the shortcut because I was running late. Two of them appeared in front of me in the alleyway, and when I spun around, I found two more behind me. This was déjà vu. The last time I’d been in this situation, there had only been two ‘Followers’ and I’d needed Aunt Lucy’s help to survive. The odds were much worse this time. The hooded figures worked under orders from The Dark One—a mysterious character who wanted me dead.

  My instincts took over. I felled the first with a lightning bolt. The second I threw against the wall using the ‘power’ spell. The final two came charging at me. One was wielding a curved sword. At the crucial moment, I used the ‘faster’ spell to sidestep the blow. The sword missed me and instead plunged into the skull of his accomplice.

  And then there was one. I hadn’t used the ‘burn’ spell in anger, but was confident enough to take a chance. The Follower screamed as flames engulfed him. Seconds later, only ashes remained on the floor where he’d stood.

  “Pretty impressive.” A female voice came from behind me.

  I turned around to find Daze leaning against the wall. Her sleek catsuit had been replaced by a fast-food uniform.

  “I would have stepped in,” she said, “but it looked like you had it under control. What level are you again?”

  “One.”

  “That wasn’t the work of a level one witch. Trust me, I’ve seen my share.”

  “Thanks. Nice outfit by the way.” I could have bitten my tongue off. What was I thinking? She was a sup sup—you didn’t insult a sup sup.

  She laughed. “Cheek. Not great is it? I spend a lot of time in the human world. My regular outfit doesn’t exactly blend in, and besides the extra cash comes in handy.”

  “You mean you actually work there? It isn’t just a disguise?”

  “Sure I work there. Where do you think we’re going to have lunch? Got to take advantage of the staff discount.”

  And she wasn’t kidding. When she’d suggested lunch, I hadn’t expected cordon bleu, but I hadn’t anticipated burger and fries either.

  “Ketchup?” Daze offered.

  “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “So fill me in on this case you think I’ll be interested in.” She dipped one of her fries into the ketchup. Gross!

  I told her about my make-believe dog, Henry, the phone call, and my suspicions.

  “Don’t you want those?” Daze was eyeing my fries. I’d only managed to eat a handful.

  “I’m not really hungry. I’ve just eaten two pieces of Victoria sponge.”

  “You were right to call me.” She finished off the last of the fries. “Where and when have you arranged to meet them?”

  Chapter 21

  Daze had to get back to her fast-food job. If everything went according to plan, I intended to meet up with her again later that afternoon. I had some time on my hands, so decided to hit the shops. I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t buying a new dress because I had a ‘date’ with Maxwell. The timing was entirely coincidental. It just so happened that my wardrobe was ready for refreshing. I didn’t give a flying fig what he thought of me, and I certainly wasn’t going to go out of my way to impress him. What? It’s the truth. I swear on a packet of custard creams.

  This could not be happening! The zip was stuck. I couldn’t pull it up or down. I’d only just managed to squeeze into the little black number, which obviously had the wrong size-label. Either that or I’d gone through more custard creams than I thought this month. The dress wouldn’t slide down or up—it was well and truly stuck. The surly girl on the changing room door had barely been able to summon up enough enthusiasm to ask how many garments I had, let alone crack a smile. I wasn’t about to embarras
s myself by calling her for help.

  Hang on a minute; I was a witch wasn’t I? Surely I could come up with a spell which would get me out of this situation. The ‘power’ spell was the first to come to mind. It would probably have done the job, but it could just as easily have ripped out the zip or torn the dress. Then I remembered a spell, which I’d memorised, but hadn’t yet had a chance to try out. What did I have to lose? The ‘shrink’ spell was supposed to make me—shrink—duh! One nice aspect of the spell was that I could reverse it at any time. Ideal! I’d shrink myself so that the dress would fall off me, and then I’d reverse the spell. What could possibly go wrong?

  The shrinking sensation was really weird. It felt as though someone was sucking all of the air out of me. My first mistake was not to realise that my underwear would also fall off me. Whoops! Tiny me was left naked underneath one of my bra cups. My second mistake was not to anticipate that the dress would slide under the changing room door.

  “Madam, are you okay?” Surly girl’s voice sounded much louder to my tiny ears. Somehow, I had to prevent her from opening the door, so I shouted, “I’m fine.” My voice was so tiny; I could barely hear it myself.

  “Madam!” She said again. “Can I come in?”

  “No please don’t come in.” I tried to lift the bra, but the under-wiring was too heavy.

  “I’m coming in.” The door creaked open. “Madam?” I could hear the confusion in her voice—hardly surprising seeing as I’d done a Houdini on her. Suddenly the bra disappeared leaving me in the middle of the changing room floor—one inch tall and butt naked. The girl had gathered up the dress and the rest of my clothes. She obviously hadn’t spotted me or she’d have freaked out. Her gigantic feet were only inches from me—one wrong step and I’d be history. I rushed across the cold floor and took refuge in the corner of the cubicle under the seat. The girl was still tutting as she left. I was all alone, naked and one inch tall. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t reverse the spell because I was naked, and she’d taken all of my clothes. How did I manage to get myself into these situations? I had to find my clothes, reverse the spell, and then get dressed. No problem. Nothing to worry about at all.

  I sneezed the world’s tiniest sneeze; who knew the floor was so dusty? A few moments later, I’d formulated a plan. Rather than trying to cover the distance to the changing room entrance in one go, I’d do it in stages. Trust me to have chosen the changing room furthest away from the exit. I made a dash for the next cubicle—running naked was not something I’d ever done before—I don’t recommend it. I took a few seconds to catch my breath, and then ran again.