That Old Witch Magic (Wicked in Moonhaven~A Paranormal Cozy Book 2)

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That Old Witch Magic (Wicked in Moonhaven~A Paranormal Cozy Book 2) Page 9

by J. D. Winters


  “Sure.”

  I wanted to go up and change into a lighter shirt anyway. The morning fog had burned off and it was getting hot. I took the stairs two at a time and ran into my bedroom to change, then out and into the next-door room.

  Gavin was sitting on the floor playing with his Octonaut set and I got him to pack them all up so we could take them downstairs. As we started out, I took a quick look at the room. Krissy had already made herself at home there and it looked nice and tidy, with a comforter covered in spring flowers and curtains to match. She’d put out a number of photos in nice frames on the dresser. A cursory scan stopped me in my tracks and I had to go over and look more closely. Most of the pictures were of Gavin, but some were of friends. The one that startled me was of Shane….with his arm around Krissy’s shoulders. They were standing with a view behind them of the Golden Gate Bridge and laughing into each other’s eyes. It could have been the cover of a romance novel. I gulped and followed Gavin to the stairs. But deep inside, there was a lost, lonely feeling of emptiness. Was I going to lose everyone I counted on?

  I looked at Krissy. She was talking to her son, telling him where to set up his toys so that he would be in her line of sight as she worked. I noted how clean and business-like the place looked and I realized how lucky I’d been to find her. Still….

  “So Krissy,” I said as I was loading up. “I guess you and Shane have known each other for some time, haven’t you?”

  She looked surprised, then she realized what I was implying and her face changed. The wary look was back.

  “Haley, I know you don’t remember, but…the three of us used to be practically inseparable in high school. I’ve known you both really, really well just about forever.”

  I smiled. “Of course,” I said. But that didn’t get to the heart of what was bothering me about the whole thing. I just kept smiling and waved as I went out the door.

  I headed for the festival, carrying the tray of sandwiches and pulling along Toto on a leash. At least you could count on your dog. Couldn’t you?

  The park was even more crowded than it had been the day before. There was a line in front of our booth and Luanne and Molly were hard at work. I stayed to help them for the lunchtime rush, but my mind was on Bentley and Shane and the urgency of finding a way to exonerate the innocent. I knew I didn’t have any proof. Not yet anyway. Now how was I going to get some?

  One by one, I went over the issues that were bothering me as I smiled and handed out croissant sandwiches to hungry, friendly people.

  First there was Krissy and her mysterious trip to the park very near the time the Inspector was killed. Not that I suspected her. But she did hate the man and he had threatened to essentially ban her from the town. But I had to admit, deep down, the main thing about her that bothered me was her seeming relationship with Shane. No one had ever hinted to me that Shane might have a current girlfriend. But they sure looked like something was percolating there.

  I shut that out of my mind. I didn’t have time for that now. Okay, who was next? Joe? I didn’t know enough about him to make a case. Rennie? No. Not possible. My grandmother? That gave me a chill. I was going to have to look into her history with the man. What else had happened last night? Why was there a feeling nagging at me that I was forgetting someone? Hmmm.

  I went back over the dinner at the Castle in my mind, and the walk in the park and….wait. What about that huge ugly Gremlin Wrangler truck? The one that was stuck in the middle of the street, tying up traffic—and later sitting right out next to the park where the Inspector was found. What was the wrangler’s name? Brick. The man looked like he could commit a murder or two before breakfast and face the rest of his day with a smile. Yuck.

  But he supposedly knew how to handle gremlins. Maybe he could tell me something about the knit cap I’d found. It was worth a try. If only I had a car that wasn’t already infected with gremlins. How was I going to get out to his ranch without a car?

  All this mulling things over wasn’t going to do me any good until I had more facts. I was restless, fidgety, wanting to get back to doing some investigating. Finally, traffic was dying down at the booth and I felt I could leave Luanne and Molly on their own. But first, I really needed to find out what was going on with Bentley, so I took off in the direction of the Sheriff’s Station.

  A woman passed me, laughing and joking with her friends. What caught my eye—she was wearing a knit cap, much larger than the one I had in my pocket, but very similar in design, only in more subdued colors. I stopped her and asked where she’d found it.

  “I bought it at the Knittin’ Pretty Yarn Shop Booth,” she told me willingly, pointing the way. “She has tons of them.”

  “Thanks.”

  She did have quite a few examples of knit caps of all kinds, and some did look like the one I had. I pulled it out to show her.

  “Have you ever seen any like this before?” I asked her.

  She picked it up and laughed. “I sure have. In fact, I’m pretty sure I made this one.”

  “Oh. Uh…are they gremlin hats?” I asked.

  She looked shocked. “Heck no! I wouldn’t make anything for gremlins. That would be like knitting gloves for cockroaches. What are you saying?”

  I apologized quickly and her good humor came back.

  “I’ll tell you who I did knit a large order of these for,” she said. “The mayor’s wife. That Rennie gal. She’s a kick, isn’t she?”

  “Rennie?”

  “Yes, it was her. She needed them for her little dogs. Just in case the winter got cold this year. I’ll bet those little wiener dogs looked adorable in them. And also the Scottish terrier.”

  “The Scottish Terrier?” I repeated weakly. As far as I knew, Rennie didn’t have any dogs.

  “Yes. I think she said his name was MacKintosh. Isn’t that cute? I really hope she’ll bring them all in wearing their little caps for a picture.”

  I had my doubts that was going to happen. But I let her try some of her little caps on Toto. He enjoyed the attention, wagging his tail and smiling at the knitting lady. The caps were cute.

  I thanked her for the info and headed off again. Doggie hats. Gremlin hats! What on earth was Rennie up to?

  No time to think about that—though I was beginning to think I really did need to go out and have a talk with Brick the Gremlin Wrangler. Still, when I remembered what he’d looked like last night, I shuddered a bit. Somehow, he looked almost as slimy as his targeted beasties.

  As I threaded my way through the crowd, I began to pick up on a strange vibe. Something was wrong. You could hear people arguing, complaining, expressing discomfort. As I looked around, I noticed some booths were closing down. What was going on?

  “Hey, Haley! Wait up.”

  I turned. I was being hailed by Gordon Kilmeade, the young man who had been our waiter the night before. He came jogging up to where I was standing near the merry-go-round. Today he was wearing brightly colored board shorts and a cut-off t-shirt that showed he’d definitely been working out. Nice biceps.

  “Listen, have you seen Rennie?” he asked me, looking worried, but taking time to reach down and give Toto a scritch behind his ears.

  I thought for a second. “I saw her early this morning, but that was ages ago,” I said. “Why? Is she missing?”

  “You’re darn right she’s missing. She’s supposed to be managing this whole production and people are turning to me, asking all sorts of questions, wanting help, all kinds of things I am simply not equipped to deal with.” He looked at me hopefully. “Maybe you know how to run a festival?”

  “Oh no you don’t.” I backed away from him, my hands up protectively. “I’m on a mission and I can’t let anything hold me back.”

  He groaned. “Where was she going when you saw her?”

  I shook my head, then remembered something she’d said. “I got the impression she was looking for the mayor,” I said. “Hasn’t he been missing or something?”

  He gave me
a look of pure disgust. “You can say that again,” he muttered. “In more ways than one.”

  I shrugged, not sure what he was referring to. “Sorry.”

  He sighed, a faraway look in his eyes. “I really thought once the Inspector was out of the picture, she’d calm down and get back to normal. So much for that dream. She’s out trying to save him from himself again.”

  He frowned fiercely at me and tossed his head of wild bronze curls. “Well, I’m heading for the beach. I’m not going to stick around here and end up getting blamed for everything that goes wrong. That’s Rennie’s job.” He saluted me. “You can tell her that when next you see her. Okay?”

  I didn’t bother agreeing to that--he was already going. But I called after him with a question.

  “Gordon, does Rennie have any little dogs?”

  “Dogs? No. She has Methuselah, a cat as old as time itself. But no dogs. The mayor gets nervous around them. Or is it the other way around?”

  “Oh.”

  This time I let him go. But I was still startled by what he’d said and the way he’d said it. Could it be that I was going to have to add Rennie’s little brother to the suspect list? After all, he’d left his job early last night. He would have had time to go to the park. And if he thought getting rid of the Inspector would make life better for Rennie—who knew what he might be capable of? I wished I knew more about how close the two of them were. But I did know he was living with her and her husband.

  I walked on more slowly, mulling all this over and coming to no firm conclusion at all. Okay, so Rennie had a bunch of knitted caps made—caps that looked like the kind that gremlins wore. Why on earth would she do that? I couldn’t even begin to build a story that would explain her actions.

  I walked on slowly. I still needed more information. All I had at this point was a bunch of jumbled facts, jumbled observations, jumbled speculations. None of it held together to form a cogent theory. I needed more.

  But I was forgetting a chore that Bentley had specifically assigned to me. He’d wanted me to find that wooden box and keep it safe for him. I wanted to be able to tell him the job had been done when I saw him next, so I headed over that way. I figured the sheriffs had probably already done a preliminary search of the house. But would they find something hidden in the refrigerator? Who knew.

  The lucky thing was, I not only knew how to navigate the maze that led to his front door, I knew where he hid the key to that front door. I tied Toto outside and I was inside in no time. And that was when I noticed someone else had beat me to it.

  The trespasser was making enough noise to have missed the sound of my entry, pulling open drawers and slamming them shut again. I slipped behind a partition and waited, peeking out but not seeing anything, then pulling back and holding my breath when he came into the reception area where I was hiding. I knew it was a man, as he kept muttering to himself in a very annoyed voice. He started rifling through the receptionist’s desk, yanking drawers open and pulling out papers. I wanted to peek around the partition again so I could see if I could identify him, but I was already having a hard time keeping my breathing calm and I was afraid he would see me. My heart was like a jack-hammer in my chest. This was one of those times when I regretted all those missed martial arts practices I was supposed to attend and didn’t.

  He was moving across the floor, coming my way. Obviously, he meant to search the file cabinets behind me. I looked around quickly, trying to figure out someplace I could hide. I slipped between the file cabinets and slid down so that he would have to be standing over me to see me. Then I tried to hold back my raw, painful breathing.

  His steps came closer. He was right at the edge of the partition. I could see his hand on the frame of the wall. I held my breath.

  And Toto barked.

  He froze.

  Toto barked again. He sounded very close—and he was. The man swore softly and turned away. I could hear him heading for the back door. Gathering my shaking wits about me, I rose and followed him, determined to see who he was. I heard the back door slam and I knew he was out running across the grass chessboard. I made it to the back door and looked out. I could just see him disappearing into the trees. I could have sworn I knew him. At least from this distance, it looked very much like Joe from the garage.

  By now I was breathing normally again. Joe from the garage. I’d been imagining someone a lot scarier than that. Still, even a young wiry guy like Joe could be plenty dangerous when trapped in a vacant house. So I was very glad he was gone and I didn’t want to stay any longer to see if he might come back. Or if someone else might give robbing Bentley’s house a try.

  I headed upstairs and went straight to the refrigerator. Pulling out the vegetable crisper, I felt behind it and pulled out a wooden box. This had to be it. Putting things back where I’d moved them from and wishing I’d been smart enough to wear gloves, I headed back out the front door. Ransacking people’s houses was not something I wanted to delve into any more than I had to, even with their permission. I shuddered at the thought. Minutes later, Toto and I were heading for home, carrying that box. I planned to hide it in my room without letting anyone know I had it, then head back over to see if I could get in to see Bentley. In the meantime, I was trying to steady my nerves and get my heart back into condition. This sneaking around was hard work.

  Shane was the first person I saw as I walked through the big glass doors at the Sheriff’s Station.

  I’d spent a few minutes tying Toto up outside before coming in, and Shane might have seen me coming because he looked like he’d been waiting for me, his arms crossed against his chest, his eyes cool and direct, his chiseled chin high--as though he was ready for a fight.

  I stopped and stared at him. “What’s wrong?” I said.

  He raised one eyebrow. “Nothing. I’m just preparing myself for the onslaught.”

  Okay, now that made me mad! What had I done to deserve that? But I kept my temper. I was finally learning that old adage was true—you tended to get more flies with honey than you did with vinegar. Or something like that. But who in the world wants flies?

  Still, I tried smiling brightly instead of making a snappy response. “I’ve got no weapons on me, honest. I just wanted to find out how Bentley is doing.” Then I just couldn’t resist adding, “And when you’re going to release him.”

  “Uh huh.” He looked like he was waiting for the rest.

  I gave up. I moved closer and spoke in a low tone. “Oh come on, Shane. You know he’s no murderer. Where is he?”

  “He’s being questioned. The Sheriff has called in an investigative expert to go over everything with him.”

  That didn’t sound good. A wave of fear shivered through me. I wanted to grab Shane’s arm, but I stopped myself in time. I knew better than to touch him when he was on duty. “You don’t really think he did it, do you?”

  He hesitated, glanced around to make sure there was no one else in earshot, and said quietly, “Haley, I know he’s a good friend of yours. And you believe in him. But he’s got motives. Other people besides you knew he was being threatened by the inspector. Motives. Opportunity. No alibi. And he refuses to defend himself.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean he won’t answer any questions, won’t make a case for himself. He acts like he knows he did it and he deserves to pay for his crime. He hasn’t even made an attempt to clear himself.”

  I stared into his beautiful eyes for a long moment, then sighed and wearily nodded. “I think I know what you mean. He even acted that way when I tried to ask him some questions.” I looked at him again, searching his gaze. “What do you think it is? Do you think he might be trying to cover for someone else?”

  Shane shook his head. “More likely, he might have been following orders. It may be that he’s afraid to talk.”

  That struck me as unlikely. What on earth was he talking about? “Following orders? What…like in the army?”

  Shane nodded. “Haley, you
really know so little about how vampires operate. You ought to get the lowdown from someone before you dig your way even further into this case.” He shrugged. Someone called to him from the hallway to the back section of the station and he raised his hand to show that he’d heard. “I’ve got things to do. Promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

  I glared at him. “Like what?”

  His mouth twisted into something resembling a smile. “Oh, I don’t know. Engineer a jailbreak. Something like that.”

  I grunted. “Fat chance,” I said sadly.

  He gave me a wink, turned and started off. I watched him go, thinking that some men were just born to wear uniforms, and he was one of them.

  I got a cup of water from the cooler and sat down to enjoy it. But all the time I was thinking about what Shane had said, and also, what had been in Bentley’s wooden box.

  That had been a surprise. I’d opened it of course. Surely you didn’t think my scruples would keep me from doing such a thing. Maybe they should have, but this time, they hadn’t. So I’d looked inside and what I found was puzzling more than anything. There were a few sets of official looking papers, some for ownership of his law office building, some for a farm outside of town. Those were pretty straightforward. But along with them was a huge heavy piece of paper that I had to unfold to get the complete scope of. On it had been rendered a large, beautifully drawn genealogy chart, all notations made in gorgeous calligraphy.

  Now here is what was odd. Bentley was listed toward the bottom of the chart, and above him were the names of two dukes, a duchess, and three countesses, all from places in Europe. Plus another notation that had been marked across with a heavy black x, as though it had been someone who had been cast out of the picture for some reason—but the notation was still visible: Otto Von Dorn of Austria. Okay, this was oddest of all. Bentley was listed as a Marquess of some odd place in Ireland I’d never heard of. What? Hadn’t he told me that he was raised in a dirt cave in the USA while his mother worked as a maid for a rich man near by? Those two pictures didn’t jibe somehow.

 

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