The mouse bowed. He was dressed in his usual outfit—a tiny three-button red vest. His whiskers were twirled into a fancy mustache, and a pair of round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Ma chère.”
“It’s good to see you. I need all the help I can get right now.” I kissed the top of his head as he closed his umbrella. “Where did Archie go?”
With cheeks red, Pepe said, “Reporting this latest development to the Elder.” Then, addressing Amy, he said, “Mademoiselle, my deepest condolences on your loss.” He bowed again.
His French accent was enchanting.
“Thanks, Pepe.” She sniffled and patted his head. Her light flickered but remained shining brightly.
“We have to hide her,” I said to Pepe. “Soon. Before a mortal comes along.”
“There is only one thing that can hide a light this brilliant,” he said.
“What?”
“A Crafter cloak. Godfrey is on his way with one. He’s a slight bit slower than I with that girth of his.”
“Never mind that you had a ride from Archie,” I pointed out.
His whiskers twitched. “Mere details.”
Pepe, a familiar, had lived with Godfrey Baleaux’s family for generations. The Cloakcrafters had become like family to Pepe, and he and Godfrey acted more than a little like squabbling siblings. Both of them worked magic with fabric as premier clothiers and tailors at the Bewitching Boutique, though Pepe often boasted that he was the more masterful Crafter of the two. Which might explain why Godfrey was forever threatening to adopt a cat for the shop.
The thought of a cat had me thinking about Tilda again, but I had to push worries about her aside for now and focus on Amy. My anxiety grew the longer we waited. “How soon before Godfrey gets here?”
“He had to finish casting the spell on the cloak,” Pepe said. “It is not a normal cloak used in a case such as this.”
“Why?” The usual Crafter cloak, which reminded me of Darth Vader’s cape in Star Wars, was a long, hooded satin cape. When worn by a Crafter, it provided invisibility so mortals couldn’t see us when we visited the Elder.
“It needs to be . . . How do you say?” He paused, twirling his mustache. “Extra-strength. To contain all the light.”
Amy burst into tears. “I’m causing so much trouble!”
The light around us dimmed intermittently, reminding me of a lighthouse beacon.
A voice came out of the darkness. “What on earth is going on over here?” Harper stepped into the circle of light.
She saw me and said, “Why am I not surprised?”
“It’s my fault,” Amy cried.
Harper brushed passed me and pulled Amy into a hug. “Nonsense. I’m sure it’s Darcy’s fault somehow.”
I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“The light shining through my apartment window woke me up. I’m pretty sure this glow can be seen from space.”
I bit back a smile, since I’d thought the same thing.
“Oui,” Pepe agreed.
“We have to hide her,” Harper said. “If a mortal comes along . . .”
“Sœurs,” Pepe mumbled.
Sisters. “Yeah, yeah,” I murmured to him, though I didn’t mind being compared to Harper. I was proud of my sister, proud of the way I’d raised her. Well, except for those brushes with the law, but there was no need to go into that. To Harper, I said, “Already on it.”
Pepe cupped his big ear. “I hear Godfrey now.”
I strained to listen and heard nothing. “You do?”
“Can you not? The huffing and puffing is deafening.”
I stared at the mouse. “You’re making that up.”
“You shall see, ma chère.”
“Here I am,” a voice cried from the shadows, “to save the day.”
I felt Pepe tense in my hand at the Mighty Mouse reference Godfrey used. “That is my line,” Pepe murmured. He had a penchant for chomping on Godfrey’s ankle when displeased with the man, and I had a feeling there would be some nipping going on later.
Godfrey hustled into the light, breathing heavily. Sweat beaded along on his forehead, around the deep wrinkles around his eyes, and on his jowls. His white hair had lost a little of its usual pomp. He wasn’t dressed in his customary three-piece suit, either, but rather in fancy silk pajamas with robe tied around his large waist. “Here, here,” he huffed and puffed, thrusting the cloak forward. He dabbed his face with a handkerchief.
“Told you,” Pepe whispered with a smile.
“I shall never doubt you again,” I said.
“Wise woman.”
Harper took the cape and wrapped it around Amy. It wasn’t until the hood had been pulled over Amy’s dark hair that her light vanished.
That she vanished.
She was gone.
“Whoa,” I said. “Where’d she go?”
“I’m right here,” Amy said, her voice ringing out in the darkness.
Usually with the cloaks, even though Crafters were invisible to mortals, we were still visible to one another. “Extra-strength” indeed.
Harper reached out like a mime. “She’s there.” She must have found Amy’s hand, because she seemed to be holding it.
“The only way,” Godfrey explained, “to hide the light is to hide the whole Illumicrafter.”
“I want one of those cloaks,” Harper said, her eyes wide.
“Non,” Pepe said. “It will only work for the Illumicrafters.”
Harper eyed him. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”
“Moi?” he asked innocently.
“We should go,” I said, hearing another car in the distance. “Someone is bound to get suspicious. Let’s take Amy back to Ve’s and figure out what to do from there.”
Godfrey rubbed his hands in anticipation. “Yes, let’s.”
He’d once been married to Aunt Ve, and though she sometimes referred to him as a rat-toad bottom-dweller, they’d remained friends. It was an unusual relationship.
We’d just started up the dirt path to the Enchanted Trail, when a sharp voice rang out. “Stop right there!”
Chapter Eight
Caught in the act.
I froze, then slowly turned around. A beam of light (one not coming from Amy or Michael) blinded me, and I brought my hand up to block my eyes. Pepe dove for cover under my hair at the back of my neck, and I was doing my best not to laugh—he tickled.
“What’s going on here?” the voice—female—demanded.
Godfrey puffed up. He had cupped his eyes, too, against the light. “Who’s asking?”
The beam of light lowered, revealing Glinda Hansel. Her khaki uniform pants had been starched to within an inch of their life, but even at five thirty in the morning she looked glamorous, like an old-fashioned movie star.
Great.
“Glinda, is that you?” Godfrey said. “You nearly scared me to death. I’m an old man, you know.”
She wasn’t falling for his “old man” routine. “What are you doing here? You’ve violated a crime scene.” Glinda was a Broomcrafter who knew Pepe well, so he came out of hiding. She gave him the evil eye. “What is going on? Explain yourselves.”
“Well,” Godfrey said, “Amy—”
Glinda snapped to attention. “Amy Healey? You’ve seen her? I’ve been looking for her all night. Me and every other officer on the force.”
I made a snap decision. “We thought we saw her. We saw a light over here, but by the time we arrived, it was gone.”
Glinda aimed her flashlight at each of our faces. I felt Harper tense behind me, and I hoped she’d hold her tongue.
She did, though I could tell it was taking effort on her part. I could practically feel her agitation.
Glinda flashed her light around the area. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“We were just leaving,” Pepe said.
Glinda’s perfectly plucked eyebrows dipped. “What are all of you doing out and about this early, anyway
? Together?” She eyed Godfrey. “With you in your pajamas?”
“I asked for his help,” I said quickly.
“With what?” she demanded.
“Tilda, my aunt Ve’s cat, is missing. You know her, right? Tilda, not Ve. I know you know Ve.” I didn’t add—though I wanted to—that she knew Ve because her bimbo mother ran off and eloped with Ve’s ex-fiancé. “Tilda’s white and gray with blue eyes. Himalayan.”
“Bad attitude,” Harper added.
“Sharp claws,” Pepe said sincerely. I felt him tense on my shoulder as if he could practically feel those claws.
“We were looking for her,” I said. “She’s missing, and she’s not really an outdoor cat, so we’re very worried.”
Glinda’s eyes narrowed on me. “Just so you know, I don’t believe you’re telling me everything.”
I shrugged. “It’s the truth. Tilda’s lost. If you see her, can you let me know? Ve’s worried sick.”
“Personally,” Pepe said, “I am glad she’s gone, but I am not one to ignore a friend in need. If Darcy needs my help, all she need do is ask.”
I said, “I forgive you for wanting Tilda to stay missing.”
He bowed. “I speak only the truth. Tilda has tried more than once to eat me, to gobble me right up. I would rather that did not happen.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Harper said.
“Merci,” Pepe returned, giving her a nod.
“Enough,” Glinda snapped. “Get out of here, all of you, before I bring you in.”
Since the Enchanted Village police cars were pastel-colored MINI Coopers, I kind of wanted to see her try. She might be able to fit Godfrey in her pink cruiser. Might. She’d need lots of backup for the rest of us.
She continued, saying, “I will keep an eye out for Tilda, if you keep an eye out for Amy. If you see her, please tell her to come see me at the police station. It’s imperative she come sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Godfrey said, bowing.
Glinda bristled at “ma’am,” and I wanted to kiss Godfrey.
“Go!” she ordered.
We spun around and hurried away. Ahead of me, Harper whispered harshly, “What are you doing?” Then she stopped short and looked back at me. Under her breath, she said, “Amy let go of my hand.”
“Uh-oh,” I said. “We have a runaway.”
Suddenly, I heard a little scream and looked back at Glinda. She was flat on her rear on the ground.
Godfrey started toward her, but she held up a hand to stop him and jumped up. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just tripped on something.” She looked at the ground as if perplexed, then rushed off.
Next to me, Amy’s voice suddenly rang out, loud and clear. “Okay, I’m ready now.”
Godfrey chuckled. “Were you, perchance, the object over which Glinda tripped?”
Amy said, “My foot may have gotten in her way.”
“Why?” I asked. I mean, I kind of wanted to trip her, but I had my own issues with Glinda.
“Because she stupidly thinks Fisk killed Michael and that I know where he ran off to.”
“Fisk ran off?” I asked.
“Last night, after he found out about Michael’s death,” she said, her voice hitching.
Harper met my gaze, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing as I was—guilty behavior. I wondered if that was the phone call Dash Khoury had received while talking to me last night—that Fisk had flown the coop.
“Do you know where he is?” I asked.
“No, I don’t,” she said after a long pause. “And even if I did, I’d never rat him out.”
“Why, ma chère, do the police think Fisk is involved?” Pepe asked. “Were not he and Michael the closest of friends?”
“Because he and Michael got into a huge fight last night,” Amy said. “A fistfight.”
“Over what, my dear?” Godfrey asked.
“I don’t know,” she said softly.
“But you’re sure Fisk wasn’t involved in . . .” Harper gestured to the path.
“I’m sure,” Amy said, her voice strong. “He’s innocent.”
As we headed for As You Wish, I hoped for Amy’s sake that she was right.
* * *
Ve didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see us. In fact, she had a fresh pot of coffee brewed and pancakes cooking.
“Archie,” she explained when I gave her a questioning look. “He dropped by a few minutes ago and mentioned I might be having company.”
“Is Mimi up yet?” I asked, looking toward the stairs.
“Sound asleep last I checked. It was quite the picture, seeing Higgins and Missy in bed with her, one on each side with Mimi nestled in the middle.”
Alarmed, I asked, “Higgins was in my bed?” When I left, he’d been dozing on the floor.
“With his head on your pillow. He drools in his sleep. Did you know?” Ve asked, an amused lilt in her voice.
This was payback, I was quite sure, for letting Higgins slobber all over her last night. She’d probably coaxed him into my bed and put my pillow under his head.
“Speaking of, am I drooling?” Godfrey asked, parking himself on a stool. He sniffed the air, rubbed his bulging tummy, and made goo-goo eyes at Ve.
She winked and coyly patted her hair. “Not in front of the kids, Godfrey!”
He pinked right up. “Oh, you!”
“You two are making me queasy,” Harper said. “Knock off all that phony flirting.”
I set Pepe on the counter. He sat, letting his feet and tail dangle. “Yes, it is quel disturbing,” he said.
“No one makes better pancakes than you, Ve,” Godfrey said, ignoring us.
She laughed. “It’s probably the only thing you miss about me.”
“Not true,” he insisted. “I also miss your vanilla raspberry trifle. I simply cannot replicate your recipe. Care to share it?”
She shook a spatula at him. “It’s a family recipe, and you, my dear friend, are no longer family.”
He pouted.
Missy must have heard the excitement, because she came clattering down the steps at full speed. She reached the bottom step and fairly launched herself at the invisible force in the room—a force that caught her.
Ve stared at Missy—who appeared to be hanging in midair—and grabbed her chest. “What’s going on? Has Mrs. Pennywhistle returned? Is that you, Eugenia?”
Eugenia Pennywhistle, Mrs. P, was a Vaporcrafter who had the ability to make herself disappear at will. I envied her that particular gift. “No, she’s still in Florida visiting friends,” I said. “This is Amy. Didn’t Archie mention she’d be with us?”
“He neglected to mention that she’d be invisible,” Ve said darkly, as if envisioning plucking one or two of Archie’s feathers in retribution. “I thought she’d simply changed her mind about coming here.” Ve looked among all of us. “Why is Amy . . . invisible?”
Harper smiled wide and said, “Let me.” She walked over to where Missy hung in midair, reached up, fumbled around, and lowered the hood of the cloak.
Amy’s face appeared amid startling bright light. “Peekaboo,” she said, giving a little wave with her free hand.
Ve covered her eyes. “Good God! I’m blind!”
“Temporarily,” I said, squinting.
Harper put the hood back up, and Amy vanished again. Missy, however, didn’t seem to have any trouble seeing her as she set about licking Amy’s face. Amy giggled.
Ve stared in wonder. “Are you hungry, Amy dear?”
“Not really,” Amy said. “I’m just a little tired. Would it be possible to lie down for a while?”
“Of course! Darcy,” Ve said, “show her upstairs to Harper’s old room. Stay as long as you like, Amy.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll try not to be too much trouble.”
Missy was lowered to the ground, where she immediately went over to Godfrey and started sniffing.
I held out my hand to Amy. It was s
trange to feel her palm on mine but not be able to see it. Slowly, I guided her up the steps and into the guest room. I made sure all the shades (I was thankful they were the room-darkening kind) had been drawn, and for extra precaution, I draped dark sheets over the windows as well. “I think it’s okay to take the cloak off in here now. No one will be able to see the light. Just be careful when you’re in the hallway or the guest bath.”
She slipped off her hood, and I winced at the light. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she seemed to fold into herself, and she looked about ten years old.
Glancing at me, she said, “Thanks for letting me stay here. And for lying to Glinda about me.”
“You can stay as long as you want.” I bit my lip. It had been easy to lie to Glinda, but it wouldn’t be so easy to keep a secret from Nick, especially with his daughter staying here. “It’s probably in your best interest to talk to the police at some point.”
“I know.” She stared at her dark purple fingernails. “Just not Glinda. Fisk and I overheard her last night telling someone that she thought Fisk was guilty and they should just arrest him. All because of one little fight.” She shook her head. “That was when Fisk took off. He’s not guilty,” she added.
I nodded, because I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea whether he was guilty or not. The circumstantial evidence against him was starting to pile up, however. “And you really don’t know why he and Michael were fighting?”
She swiped a tear away. “They told me to keep out of it.”
“You didn’t overhear any of it?”
“Bits and pieces. Nothing that made sense. Something about the moon.” She yawned.
“The moon? As in the one in the sky?”
Yawning again, she said, “I told you it didn’t make sense.”
“Why don’t you get some rest?” I said.
She nodded, and as I left the room, I had to wonder if she was telling me all she knew about the fight.
The moon.
I shook my head. Why would they be fighting about the moon?
Amy was right—it made no sense. And it certainly didn’t explain why Michael was now dead.
Chapter Nine
By ten, the house had pretty much cleared out. Nick had called to say he’d be late in stopping by; Harper and Mimi were currently walking Missy and Higgins; Lost flyers had been made; Amy was still asleep; and I had been stood up.
The Good, the Bad, and the Witchy: A Wishcraft Mystery Page 8
