Witch is When My Heart Broke (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 9)

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Witch is When My Heart Broke (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 9) Page 1

by Adele Abbott




  Witch Is When

  My Heart Broke

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2016

  The right of Adele Abbott to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Also from Adele Abbott

  Chapter 1

  When I arrived at the office, there was another woman behind the desk with Mrs V.

  “Jill, this is Doreen Daggers—an old friend of mine.”

  “Nice to meet you, Doreen.”

  “You too, Jill. V often speaks of you.”

  “You’re probably wondering what Doreen’s doing here,” Mrs V said.

  “Well, yes. I was a little surprised to see someone behind the desk with you.”

  “I’ve done myself a mischief, dear. While I was putting my knitting trophies back on the shelf after I’d polished them, I slipped and twisted my arm. It’s rather painful.”

  “Have you had it checked out at the hospital?”

  “That’s really not necessary. I wouldn’t want to waste their time. There’s nothing broken; it’ll be fine in a couple of days. But I have to finish a consignment of scarves for the bowling club, and I promised they’d be ready by the end of the week. Doreen, who by the way, everyone calls Mrs D, has gallantly offered to step into the breach.”

  Mrs V, Mrs G and now Mrs D. Not at all confusing.

  “I see. Is she going to knit them for you?”

  “No, she’s going to be my right arm. We thought if we sat side-by-side at the desk like this, I could hold one of the needles with my good arm, and Dorothy could hold the other one.”

  “Right, so sort of synchronised knitting then?”

  “Yes, I suppose you could call it that.”

  “Well, good luck. I’ll leave you two to it.”

  ***

  It was late afternoon, and I was so bored that I was counting paperclips when the door opened, and Mrs V popped her head inside.

  “Alison Shine is here to see you. She has an appointment.”

  “Ally Sunshine?” I chuckled at my own joke, but it was obviously lost on Mrs V. “Don’t you see? Ally? Sunshine? Alison Shine?”

  Mrs V gave me a sympathetic look. “I’ll send her in, shall I?”

  “Yes, please.”

  My comedic skills were wasted.

  Alison Shine was in her late thirties, and had too many freckles for her own good. She’d called me less than an hour earlier; something about the disappearance of her sister.

  “Alison Shine?”

  “Please, call me Ally.”

  “Okay, Ally. What can I do for you today?”

  “Like I said on the phone, it’s my sister, Carly Baxter. She’s gone missing.” Alison pulled a battered photo out of her pocket. “This is her.”

  The smiling woman in the photo appeared to be wearing a red jumpsuit.

  “When did she disappear?”

  “It only happened a few hours ago.”

  “Are you sure she’s actually missing? A few hours isn’t very long.”

  “She disappeared off the end of a bungee cord.”

  Now, there was a sentence you didn’t hear every day of the week.

  “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

  “Carly and her husband, Gerry, run a bungee jumping company called ‘Bouncers’.”

  “I see.”

  That explained the jumpsuit.

  “Do you know the Wyre Valley?”

  “Yes, I went there on a picnic with my sister and her kids last year.”

  “There’s a large footbridge which Bouncers often use. Carly and Gerry were there earlier today with a few customers. Just like always, Carly jumped off the bridge first, to demonstrate how it was done. But when the cord bounced back, she wasn’t on the end of it.”

  “She fell?”

  “Yes, no. I don’t know.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “There was no sign of her in the valley below. The riverbed is dry, so it’s not as though she could have been washed away. She just disappeared.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “That’s what I’m hoping you can find out.”

  “Have the police been informed?”

  “Yes. I called them as soon as Gerry told me that Carly had gone missing. That was just before I got in touch with you. They said that adults disappear all the time, and that they normally turn up again.”

  “But surely this is different? Did you explain the circumstances?”

  “Of course. When I did, they said they’d look into it, but I don’t have much faith in the local police, and I know you don’t either. I read that article attributed to you in The Bugle.”

  Was that article going to haunt me forever?

  “Are you and your sister close?”

  “Quite close, yes.”

  “How often do you see one another?”

  “Not so often in recent years. We lead very different lives.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Carly has always been the adventurous one—a real go-getter. She married young, and now she has her own business. I still live in our parents’ house with Dad. I’ve only ever been able to take on part-time work because I have to fit it around looking after him; he hasn’t been well for a long time. I have to go with him on his hospital appointments. I’m probably going to lose my current job, at Moby car wash, if I have to have any more time off.”

  “What about your sister? Was she having any problems that you were aware of?”

  “Her marriage isn’t great. Gerry has had a number of affairs, but what really got her goat was when he had the audacity to accuse her of being unfaithful with Tony Bow.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He owns a competing bungee jumping company.”

  “And is that likely?”

  “Definitely not. Even though she despises Gerry, she would never cheat on him.”

  “What do you think has happened to her, Ally?”

  She hesitated. “I think Gerry has done something to her, but I have no proof. That’s what I want you to find out. Will you take the case?”

  “Of course. I’ll be happy to help.”

  “That’s given me an idea,” Winky said, after Ally had left. He was perched on the window sill.

  I was almost afraid to ask. “What has?”

  “Bungee jumping. I could set up a line from this window, and—”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re no fun at
all?”

  Out of courtesy, I called Jack Maxwell to let him know that I’d been hired to work on the Carly Baxter case.

  “Bit of a weird one this, Jill.”

  “You’re not kidding. Have your people been to the scene yet?”

  “No. We want to speak to the husband first. When we can get hold of him that is.”

  “Hasn’t he been in touch with you?”

  “No. It was the sister who called it in, I believe.”

  “Don’t you think it’s strange that he didn’t contact you?”

  “Everything about this one is strange. I know that footbridge over the Wyre Valley, and one thing’s for sure, if she did fall, it’s a body we’re looking for. No one could survive that drop.”

  I made my usual promise to keep him posted, and was about to hang up when he said,

  “While I have you on the phone, I was just thinking about what your sister said that night at the policemen’s ball.”

  “What was that?” As if I didn’t already know.

  “She mentioned that you still have all your dancing medals at your flat.”

  “She did say that, didn’t she?” I was going to kill Kathy.

  “I wondered if it would be possible for me to pop over to see them some time? You can talk me through how you won them all.”

  Pop over to see my medals? Wasn’t it supposed to be etchings?

  “That sounds great.”

  “Sometime soon, hopefully?”

  “Soon? Yeah. Why not?”

  ***

  I planned to start on the Carly Baxter case first thing the next morning unless she turned up in the meantime. That was still a strong possibility in my book. Tonight though, I was going to have a few choice words with that sister of mine.

  Just when I’d thought I’d dug myself out of a hole over the ballroom dancing escapade, Kathy had dropped me right back into it. She’d told Jack Maxwell all about my so-called dancing medals—the ones I didn’t have.

  “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Kathy had a bag full of Lego in her hand when she opened the door.

  “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

  “Obviously not your toe bone. That seems to have healed nicely.” She laughed. “I really don’t believe you, Jill. How on earth did you manage to persuade someone to put a plaster cast on your foot?”

  “It was broken. A bus ran over it.”

  “Don’t give me that load of old rubbish. You might be able to fool Jack Maxwell; he is only a policeman after all, but you can’t fool me. You didn’t break your toe. You faked it because it was the only way to get out of the competition.”

  “So, are you saying you don’t believe your only sister?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. In fact, I’d bet a million pounds that you didn’t break your toe.”

  “I’m not here to discuss my toe. Like I said, I have a bone to pick with you.”

  “What have I done this time?”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in? I could kill a cup of tea and a custard cream.”

  “You’re in luck. I filled your Tupperware box only yesterday.”

  “Good thing, too.”

  Ten minutes later, we were in the living room. Kathy was bemoaning my exacting sugar requirements as usual, but at least she did have a box full of pristine, uncontaminated custard creams for my delectation.

  I grabbed three biscuits.

  “Hey, they’ve got to last, you know.” She slammed the lid shut.

  “I’ve only taken three.”

  “Yes, but I know you. First you’ll have three, then another three, and the next thing you know, they’ll all be gone.”

  “Never mind the custard creams. I’m not very pleased with you.”

  “What have I done this time?”

  “You told Jack that I still have all my imaginary dancing medals.”

  “You were the one who told him you were an expert ballroom dancer.”

  “Yes, but I’d wiggled my way out of that with my cunning plan.”

  “So you’re admitting it then? The broken toe was a hoax?”

  “Yes, all right, if you must know. I got a friend at the hospital to put a cast on my foot.”

  “I knew you were faking it.”

  “Anyway, I’d more or less dug myself out of that hole, and then you and Peter come along and tell Jack that I’ve still got all my medals, and suggest that he should come around and see them.”

  “That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” She laughed.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t know what you’re worried about, Jill. He’s never going to take you up on it. He’s probably forgotten already.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s where you’re wrong. Guess who I just spoke to on the phone.”

  “Really?” She laughed. “Oh dear.”

  “Yes, oh dear. He said that he’d really like to look at my medals, and have me talk him through how I won them all.”

  “That should be an interesting conversation. Can I sit in on it?”

  “No, you can’t. It’s not as though I have any medals to show him. What am I supposed to do?”

  “I’m going to give you the same advice as I gave you when you first told me about this ballroom dancing charade. Come clean! Tell him the truth. Say that you can’t dance. That you’ve never been able to dance. Tell him you don’t have any medals.”

  “Are you kidding? Is that the best you can come up with?”

  “It’s the only thing you can do.”

  “I can’t. Not after everything I’ve already told him. And certainly not after pretending to break my toe.”

  “So, what are you going to do then?”

  “There must be a way I can get my hands on some dancing medals. I could pretend they’re mine, and make stuff up about them.”

  “You’re going to make this even worse than it already is.”

  “Why? I can’t see a problem with that plan.”

  “That’s the problem. The fact that you can’t see a problem. Look, if you’re adamant that you want to go through with this lunatic plan of yours, I know where you can probably get your hands on lots of dancing medals.”

  “Where?”

  “Lottie Baines.”

  “Spotty?”

  “You’re doing it again with the name calling!”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. Has Lottie got medals for dancing?”

  “Of course she has. Like I told you before, she and I used to dance all the time. When we didn’t have you to hold us back, we were pretty good. Lottie went on to do all types of dancing including ballroom.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “That’s because you drifted away, and started to hang around with your nerd friends.”

  “My friends were not nerds.”

  “Anyway, Lottie won tons of medals and cups. I’m pretty sure she’s still got them.”

  “Do you think she’d lend them to me?”

  “She might. Unless she remembers what you used to call her.”

  “I didn’t call her spotty to her face.”

  “That doesn’t make it any better.”

  “I know. I was horrible back then, wasn’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t have to agree. Will you ask her for me?”

  “No chance. I’m not doing your dirty work. If you want to borrow Lottie’s medals, then you’re going to have to eat humble pie, and ask her yourself.”

  “But if she remembers what I used to call her, she’ll probably slam the door in my face.”

  “That’s a chance you’re going to have to take.”

  I had no choice. I didn’t have money to spend on new medals, If I could borrow Lottie’s, I could make up a story about how I’d won each of them. Hopefully, that would be an end to the whole sorry tale. I wondered how Lottie had turned out; she was probably a spinster.

  What do you mean like me? I’m not a spinster. I’m single. Big difference.


  Chapter 2

  The next morning, when I arrived at the office, Mrs V and Mrs D were still knitting, side by side.

  “Morning, Mrs V. Morning, Mrs D. How are the scarves coming along?”

  “Very well. We seem to have improved our coordination, don’t we, D?”

  “Yes, V. It’s working much better now.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Incidentally, Jill,” Mrs V said. “I think there’s something wrong with the lights in your office.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Look.”

  Sure enough, a white light was flashing on and off inside my office.

  “Have you been in there, Mrs V?”

  “No, we’ve been too busy with this knitting.”

  “Okay. I’d better go and see what’s going on. Maybe it just needs a new bulb.”

  Once inside, I could see the problem. There, on the ceiling where the light should have been, was a rotating glitter ball. And then the music started.

  “What the heck?”

  The volume was unbearable; the bass beat felt like it was inside my head, and I could feel the floor vibrating beneath me.

  “What’s going on in there?” Mrs V yelled. “Are you all right, Jill?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  Over where the sofa normally was, there was now a DJ console. And behind it stood Winky who was wearing shades and headphones. He was hard at work mixing tracks.

  “Winky!” I shouted, but he was oblivious to my presence.

  The music was getting louder and louder; it felt as though my eardrums were about to burst.

  “Winky! What are you doing?”

  He still couldn’t hear me. I walked across the room, and banged my hand on the console, causing the stylus to jump off the records.

  Winky pulled off his headphones. “Hey, mind the vinyl!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “It looks like you’ve set up a disco.”

  “Very good. We’ll make a P.I. of you yet.”

  “I know what you’re doing. What I want to know is why you’re doing it in my office?”

  “The acoustics in here are superb.”

  “I don’t care about the acoustics. You can’t run a disco in here. This is my place of work.”

 

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