I glanced at the screen again. All of the kids couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. Would they really have thought this through that deeply? Or was something deeper going on? Maybe an adult was working with them, or maybe it was other kids randomly acting out at the same time.
“Thanks, I’m on my way,” said Drake, into his phone before hanging up.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“I’ve got to run,” said Drake, putting on his leather jacket. “Someone spotted the group of kids down at a local ice rink.”
“I’m coming with,” I said, getting up.
“We are?” groaned Bart. “I hate kids.”
“Are you sure? I’m just going there to try and scare them,” he said.
“Absolutely,” I nodded. “You said you wanted me to help on the case, so I’m going to join you on this. Maybe I can get some deeper insights on them that you miss.”
“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” smiled Drake.
“Nope,” I smirked. “You don’t.”
Chapter 4
“I, uh, apologize again,” laughed Drake nervously as we drove to the ice rink in his car. “I wasn’t expecting to have anyone else in here.”
“How can humans live like this?” asked a disgusted Bart from the backseat, looking all around him.
Drake’s car was… messy, to say the least.
Empty and crushed paper coffee cups were littered across the floor in both the front and back. A handful of sugar dusted plastic donut wrappers accompanied them, along with the boxes of used frozen dinners.
“It’s honestly not a problem,” I lied. I wasn’t the cleanest girl in the world, but it looked like Drake was practically living out of his car.
Before we knew it, we had pulled into the parking lot of Twistchapel’s ice rink. I was happy to get back into the fresh air, and felt like I wouldn’t be drinking coffee or eating donuts again for a few days.
“Before we do this, I wanted to know if you were free for lunch the day after tomorrow?” asked Drake.
“Sure!” I said quickly.
Dang it, Zoey. Too eager. Reel it back in.
“Great, I’ll text you the details later,” smiled Drake, opening his door and stepping out.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked as I got out of the car. “Uh, for dealing with the kids, I mean.”
“I’m going to tell them that we’ve got them on tape, and with one more screw up they’ll find themselves in jail,” said Drake, closing his door.
“Is that really the best way to deal with kids?” I asked.
“Trust me, it’s the best way. If I’m too nice, they’ll just continue to escalate. Kids are the worst.”
“Kids are the worst?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to have any?”
“W-What? Uh, no,” he said. “I-I mean, yes, I do want to have kids. Not… not like right now, or anything. I’m not opposed to children. I mean, our-er-my kids would just be better behaved, and not destroying property.”
“Speaking of scared,” purred Bart, “I think you found a way to scare the detective.”
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” I laughed, trying to calm Drake down some. “I was just curious if you were open to having kids one day. You don’t seem like you want to go to easy on these teenagers.”
Drake cleared his throat, trying to gain back his composure. “Yes, well, I just want to make sure they don’t wind up in jail. Maybe I’ll try to go a little easier on them.”
“That would be nice to see,” I smiled as we reached the edge of the skating rink.
The rink was outdoors, which meant it was only open during the winter. To the left was a little shack that rented you ice skates, but otherwise it was free to use. It had only begun to hit the freezing mark, so I wasn’t surprised to see it so busy. Everyone wanted to get some fun in before it started getting too cold.
Most of the ice skaters stuck to the left side of the ice, skating in a small circle. There was more space in the middle to skate, but everyone seemed to be steering clear of it, almost like they were afraid of catching the attention of the five skaters further down. On this right side of the rink was a hockey net with five teenagers wearing an assortment of jerseys.
“Why is everyone skating over here?” asked Drake. “Is that normal?”
“Not really,” I said, shaking my head. “If people want to play hockey, people will still typically skate closer.”
“Those kids must be causing trouble, then,” mumbled Drake.
“Should we get skates?” I asked, pointing over to the rental shack. I liked skating, and thought it would be nice to do a few laps with Drake after we finished talking to the hooligans.
“No, we won’t be too long,” said Drake. “Let’s just walk over to them.”
Drat. Maybe next time.
I liked ice skating since I was young and had spent quite a bit of time on the ice. It didn’t matter if I had skates or not, I was used to getting around fast. I quickly glided across the ice on my shoes, making my way to the hockey playing half of the rink.
“You might want to slow down,” laughed Bart, floating next to me.
“Hm?” I asked.
“Your boyfriend isn’t as gifted as you are on the ice,” he said, nodding behind us.
I looked back to see Drake not far from where I left him. He was awkwardly shuffling forward, arms out from his sides to keep his balance. He kept apologizing to the people trying to skate around him, almost bumping into them several times.
I don’t know why, but I found it endearing.
“Need a hand?” I asked, gliding up to him.
“I know I look like a fool,” he said, a hint of red on his face. “I’ve just never been ice skating before.”
“It’s okay,” I laughed, reaching out and taking his hand. “It can take some time to learn. I’ll just pull you up until we get close, then you can do the rest.”
“Thanks,” he smiled.
“That’s a good idea,” remarked Bart. “If he wants to look intimidating, he probably won’t want the kids seeing him being pulled across the ice by a woman half his size.”
I pulled him up close to where the hockey game was going on, letting go once we were near.
A teenage girl, wearing a blue jersey, passed the puck to a boy in green. The boy in a green jersey rushed forward, skating past the two boys in red and taking a shot on the goal. The goalie reached out with his gloved left hand to grab the puck, but missed. The net behind him shook as the player in green rushed up and gave the girl a hug in celebration.
“Nice shot,” shouted Drake as he shuffled towards them.
“What’s wrong with you?” asked the girl, looking him up and down. “Are you trying to dance or something, old man?”
The rest of the teenagers burst out laughing.
I looked over at Drake, who was trying hard to smile. It didn’t look very genuine.
“Very funny,” he said. “What are you guys up to?”
“It’s called hockey,” said the girl dryly.
“Hear that? His eyes must be failing him, too,” said the goalie. The group erupted in laughter again.
“This is going well,” smiled Bart.
Maybe I should have just let Drake go about this his own way…
“What are your names?” asked Drake.
“Why would we tell you?” asked a boy who was wearing a green jersey. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place who he was.
Drake glanced back to see if I was watching. I could see a vein in his neck growing, and it was clear to me that he was having issues not going off on them. “Because I’m a nice police officer.”
“You think you’re going to scare us, pig?” asked the goalie, skating up and doing circles around Drake. The detective was having a hard time following him. “If you want our names, why don’t you catch us first?”
“Trust me, kid. The last thing you want is for me to have to ca
tch you.”
“Oooh, scary!” laughed the girl.
One of the boys in red started to circle Drake as well, laughing. The other kid in a red jersey stayed where he was, looking down at the ice. He was the only one that seemed to realize messing with a cop was a bad idea.
The boy in green that looked familiar skated backwards around Drake. “I think it’s probably best if you leave now. You’ve got nothing on us.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, looking closer at the kid wearing green. “I think your brother works for me. Aren’t you Jake? Jimmy Ralin’s brother?”
The kid’s eyes widened dramatically. He looked around at the other kids, who all shrunk back, eyes also wide.
“Uh,” he said. “Y-Yes. H-Hello, Miss Foster.”
“Jake Ralin, is it?” smirked Drake. “It would be a shame to have to take you down to the station with me if your friends won’t give up their names.”
“I-I-I’ll never say who they are!” Jake said, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry, Jake,” said the girl, patting him on his shoulder. “We won’t let them take you for something so stupid. My name is Sara. Sara Clarkson.”
The rest finally gave up their names. Henry Murphy was the chubby kid playing goalie. The other two boys were Tim Sullivan and Rob Goodfell, the who the one who didn’t want to participate in harassing a police officer.
“What do you want from us?” asked Sara. The other boys were almost hiding behind her as she spoke. She must have been their leader.
“There’s been dozens of reports over the past couple of weeks dealing with petty crimes,” said Drake, more confidently than before. He finally had the upper hand, now that he knew their names and how to figure out who their parents were. “Your group wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would it?”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” she shrugged. The others nodded in agreement.
“I find that pretty hard to believe.”
“Look, you clearly don’t have anything on us, so why don’t you leave us alone?” she asked. With the others behind her, she was starting to get braver again. “Aren’t there some donuts you should be eating about now?”
Her friends snickered.
“I have all of you on camera spray painting the library,” said Drake, a sharp tone to his voice. It looked like the donut comment was the last straw. He was done trying to be nice. “I could, and probably should, arrest each of you right now.”
The group of kids all looked at each other nervously, breaking out in whines and nervous begging.
“My mom is gonna kill me-” moaned Rob.
“Please don’t!” begged Jake.
“I-I can’t have this go on my record! What would colleges think?!” said Sara, on the verge of tears.
His goal of scaring them seemed to be working, but I was starting to feel bad for them. They were just kids, and hadn’t realized the seriousness of the situation until now. It looked like they got the message.
“Let's maybe calm down,” I smiled, looking around at them all. “No one needs to go to jail today.”
“R-Really?” asked Jake.
“Really,” nodded Drake. “The library said that they will hold off on pressing charges if your little group promises to stop committing crimes around town. She’s much more lenient than I am.”
“We promise!” exclaimed Sara, jumping at the opportunity. “We’ll stop messing with people’s things! We just thought it would be funny, and now that we see that it isn’t.”
“Good,” said Drake, glancing over at me and winking. I guess his way worked after all. “Are there any other kids that have been doing this with you? Any adults?”
“No sir, just us,” said Sara.
Drake looked around the group, clearly not believing her.
“I don’t buy that, but suit yourself. Just know that if anything else happens that was done by you or your friends, the five of you are the ones going down for it.”
They all nodded.
“You all have such bright futures in front of yourselves,” I chimed in. “If you just work hard and stay out of this kind of trouble, you’ll be able to do anything.”
“Yes, ma’am,” nodded Henry.
“You’re totally right,” agreed Tim.
“We’ll get going and let you finish up your game,” said Drake. “Remember, if I hear of anything else that is associated with your group, we’re going to have to charge you.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” nodded Jake. “W-We’re sorry.”
Drake nodded and turned to start heading back the way we came. I wanted to help him, but figured he wanted to leave on his own terms.
“By the way, mister,” said Sara, gesturing behind the net. “It’ll probably be faster for you if you just get off the ice here, rather than going all the way across again.”
“Oh. Right,” he nodded.
“Thank you all for being so reasonable,” I said, as Drake began his waddling over to dry land. “If any of you ever want to talk to someone, feel free to come by Foster’s Market and ask to speak with me. I’d be happy to help.”
“Thanks Miss Foster,” nodded Jake. “If you wouldn’t mind not bringing this up to Jimmy, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course,” I smiled, as I waved goodbye and followed after Drake. It felt good to be along and offer my help to some trouble youth. Maybe I helped make a difference.
“You know they’re all just lying to your faces, right?” asked Bart as we made it to the edge of the rink. Drake was still struggling to make it over here, so I had a quick second to speak before he got to close.
I gave the cat a look. “I think we made some real progress in helping them.”
“Yeah right,” he purred. “Mark my words, they’ll be back at it before the week is out.”
Chapter 5
The next afternoon I walked through the aisles of Foster’s Market, making sure everything was in order. Eric had been doing a good job of keeping everyone on task, and everything looked great in all the departments.
“I’ve gotta say, it’s looking good in here,” said Bart, glancing around with me.
“I know,” I whispered. “I should probably give Eric a raise or something.”
“Don’t want him going off and starting a rival store,” nodded Bart. “Oh, looks like he hasn’t been down here, though.”
The next aisle over had nearly a dozen cans of soup knocked to the ground. None were badly damaged, luckily, so I was able to set them back where they went.
“He mentioned this keeps happening, didn’t he?” I said, picking up the final can. I looked it over, but nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary.
“I guess,” shrugged Bart. “Maybe some customers are throwing down the cans they don’t like?”
“Maybe…”
“I’ve seen people do the weirdest things in here,” continued Bart. “Remember that lady that just kept pulling bags of lettuce out so that she could get the one bag in the back, and then she just let all the other bags sit on the floor? She did that right in front of you, too. The nerve of some people…”
“That’s true,” I laughed, remembering that moment.
I glanced down at my phone to check the time. It was nearly four. I should probably finish a few things up in my office before heading home. I braved the journey up to the front, peaking around the corner to see if Charline was still there for the day.
To my surprise, only Bridgette was working the registers.
“Hey Bridgette, where’s Charline?” I asked. I was hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk with Bridgette, but wanted to make sure the coast was clear.
“In the bathroom,” said Bridgette, finishing up with a customer. “She should be back soon.”
“I should hurry back to my room, then,” I smiled, heading for my office.
“Wait, I needed to talk to you!”
“What’s up?” I asked. I assumed there were going to be more questions about me being a witch for a long while.
Bridgette thanked the customer and waited for him to walk away before turning back to me, a serious look on her face.
“I’ve been thinking about your… stuff,” she said, adding in a not subtle wink, “and I think it sounds pretty fun.”
“Fun? I don’t think I’d really say I’ve really learned anything fun yet,” I said, glancing down at Bart.
“Hey, I’m doing my best,” he said defensively. “I can only work with what I’ve got in a student.”
“No, I mean the sleuthing around investigating things both of this world and beyond it. You’ve gotta let me help you on your next case dealing with this magic stuff!” she whispered excitedly.
“Bridgette, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You’ve got to think for two now.”
“Aw, I promise I’ll be extra careful! How dangerous can it be?”
“Well, I’ve almost been stabbed, shot, helped start a war between ancient rivals,” I began, listing off all the things that had nearly happened.
Bridgette laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. “Please, please, please!”
I glanced around uncomfortably. A customer walked by, reading the ingredients on the back of a bag of chips, and glanced up at us. She looked at Bridgette and back to me, then turned around and walked back into the aisle.
“Okay, okay,” I said, trying to get Bridgette to stop. “You can be really embarrassing sometimes, you know?”
“I do,” she smiled, letting her fingers go and leaning against the register. “Remember, you promised to let me help you next time.”
“I don’t think I promised-”
“Please, please, plea-”
“Fine!” I said, grabbing her wrists before she could bring them back up. “I promise!”
Bridgette looked over my shoulder and her eye’s widened.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Charline’s coming back! Hurry!”
I glanced back and saw Charline making her way back from the bathroom, talking with another customer.
“Thanks Bridgette! Talk to you later!” I said, rushing into my office and closing the door.
“That was close,” said Bart as he passed through the door. “I thought for sure we were goners.”
Twistchapel Witch Cozy Mystery Box Set: Books 1-4 plus Christmas Short Page 22
