Harper Grant 03-A Witchy Christmas

by DS Butler

  But I ignored him because Boris followed him into the room. He set a tea tray down on the coffee table, shooting me a wary glance.

  As he poured tea, I asked, “So, Boris, tell me why you paid such a short visit to the diner on Christmas Eve.”

  Boris’s hands trembled, sending the tea splashing into the saucer.

  He muttered an oath under his breath and then mopped up the spillage with a napkin before handing me a cup of tea.

  “I came to the diner,” he said in a voice that sounded very much like he was talking through gritted teeth, “to satisfy myself that Bernie was making a pig’s ear of things just as I expected.”

  “What on earth does he mean by that?” Bernie demanded, floating beside Boris as he took a seat.

  I kept my gaze trained on Boris and ignored Bernie.

  “I mean, it’s quite ridiculous,” Boris said and took a sip of his tea. “How on earth was a man like that chosen to play Santa Claus over someone like me.” He shook his head. “It’s unbelievable.”

  I frowned. Boris wanted to play Santa Claus? That was the first I’d heard of it. Bernie had been a last-minute replacement after our original Santa broke his ankle chasing after a seagull.

  “You wanted to be Santa Claus?” I couldn’t help the tone of incredulity in my voice.

  Boris nodded. “Yes, and what is so surprising about that? I would have made an excellent Santa Claus.”

  “Um, I’m sure you would, but I didn’t even know you wanted the role. Bernie filled in at the last minute after the original Santa Claus had an accident.”

  “I know. But I’d offered my services to Archie, and he told me he’d already lined up Bernie. I tried to tell Archie that he couldn’t be trusted. That the man was a drunk with a weakness for ladies, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  Although I was trying my best to ignore Bernie. I really couldn’t ignore the fact that a cushion suddenly flew across the room and smacked Boris in the face.

  He dropped his tea and then yelped in pain as the hot liquid covered his lap. He jumped to his feet with a yell of outrage.

  He glared at the cushion on the floor and then looked at me accusingly.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t throw it,” I protested.

  Boris’s forehead wrinkled with confusion, and his gaze darted around the room. It would have been clear to him that there was nobody else there, and so by a process of deduction, he concluded I had to be responsible, even though he’d been watching me the whole time.

  “Well, of all the bad-mannered, nasty things to do, Harper Grant. I invited you into my house for a cup of tea, and this is how you treat me.”

  I shook my head, unable to adequately defend myself. What could I say? The ghost of Bernie Crouch was annoyed by what you said and threw a cushion at your face? Somehow, I knew that was worse than saying nothing.

  “I… er… I’m very sorry.”

  I put my teacup and saucer down on the coffee table and then looked in horror at Bernie, who was now picking up the cushion.

  It must have appeared to Boris as though the cushion was floating in midair, and he gave a startled scream and ducked behind the armchair to hide.

  “Enough!” I yelled at Bernie, stalking past him and yanking the cushion out of his hand before replacing it on one of the armchairs.

  “I’m very sorry to have troubled you, Boris. Thank you for the tea,” I said and headed out toward the front door.

  Boris remained hiding behind the armchair as Bernie followed me.

  Once we were outside in the cold, I whirled around to face Bernie. Not caring that we were in the middle of a residential street, I yelled at him, “Thank you very much. Now I look like a complete fruit loop. Why couldn’t you have just waited?”

  Bernie gave me a sideways glance. “To be honest, Harper, you’re making yourself look like a fruit loop at the moment.”

  He pointed to the other side of the street where there were definite signs of curtain twitching going on.

  I clenched my fist and gritted my teeth. Bernie was really testing my patience. “What if Boris tells somebody about what happened today?” I muttered under my breath.

  “He won’t,” Bernie said confidently. “If he did, anyone he told would think he was mad. No one would believe him.”

  I shook my head. “This is ridiculous, Bernie. You can’t just rush off and confront people whenever you like. It’s all right for you because you’re a ghost. But I could get hurt by confronting someone who might be a killer.”

  Bernie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t ask you to follow me. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Good,” I snapped. “Because I am absolutely sick of being a ghostsitter for you. I just had to run out of the diner, where I’m supposed to be working. I had to think up an excuse to give Archie, and now I’m standing here talking to you in public, and everyone in town is going to think that I’m crazy!”

  “Fine. I didn’t ask for your help, Harper. I think it’s time for me to have some independence.”

  “Fine,” I said, miserably buttoning up my coat.

  “Fine,” Bernie repeated and then swirled around and disappeared up the road much faster than I could follow.

  CHAPTER 18

  I hugged my coat tightly around me as I stalked away from Boris Barrymore’s house, feeling absolutely furious with Bernie. If word got out that cushions were spontaneously flying around in my presence, I wasn’t sure how I would explain it.

  I trudged through the light layer of snow. Bernie had long since disappeared, and I had no idea where he’d gone, but I guessed he would head back to the diner.

  The situation was very difficult for him, but surely he could see things from my point of view?

  I’d just turned the corner into Merryman Avenue when I saw my sister, Jess, running toward me. The cold wind was whipping her hair about her face, and snowflakes had settled on the shoulders of her coat.

  “Harper, thank goodness you are all right!” She stopped running and pressed a hand to her chest. “You really freaked me out.”

  I smiled. At least someone was looking out for me.

  “I’m fine,” I reassured her. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the library?”

  Jess looked at me sternly. “Yes, I am, but I couldn’t just sit and wait by the phone while you went to confront a murderer alone, could I?” Without waiting for an answer she continued, “So, what happened?”

  “Oh, it was awful,” I said, closing my eyes and remembering how the cushion had flown through the air and smacked Boris Barrymore in the face.

  “Why? Did he threaten you?” Jess looped her arm through mine, and we started to walk back toward Main Street.

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t Boris Barrymore that made it awful, although he was a little bit creepy. He lines up his tinned food in the kitchen cupboards so all the labels are facing outwards, and his house is immaculate.”

  Jess pulled a face. “That is a little odd.”

  “It was Bernie who caused all the trouble, though,” I said with a sigh. “I was talking to Boris, and all of a sudden, Bernie started throwing cushions. Of course, Boris couldn’t see Bernie so he thought I was playing some kind of trick on him.” I shrugged. “I can only imagine how it must have looked to him.”

  Jess understood why I was really worried. Since we discovered we were witches, and in my case, could see ghosts, we had always felt different. We really tried hard to fit in, unlike Grandma Grant, who seemed to be proud of her quirky heritage. According to her, the worst thing in the world a person could be was boring and normal.

  I happened to think normal sounded pretty good right now.

  There had been whispers about our family for generations, and the cushion-throwing incident was only going to add fuel to the fire.

  Jess looked around. “Is Bernie here now?”

  I shook my head. “No, we had a bit of a falling out. I was really mad at him for throwing the cushion. He
didn’t care how it might affect me.”

  Jess nodded. “I guess Bernie is always going to be one of the most difficult ghosts you have worked with. He’s certainly a powerful one. What are you going to do now?”

  I shook my head as we turned right onto Main Street and began to walk toward the harbor. “I’m not sure. Right now, I need to get back to work. Poor Archie didn’t know what to do when I rushed out of the diner earlier trying to catch up with Bernie.”

  Jess squeezed my arm. “I’m sure things will work out. Bernie is probably already in the diner ready to apologize. He’s a little hotheaded, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to put you in a difficult situation.”

  I smiled at Jess, but I wasn’t sure. Part of me hoped that Bernie wasn’t back at the diner. I thought we could both do with a little space right now.

  Jess and I went our separate ways as she headed off to the library, and I continued to walk down toward the diner.

  Once inside, I removed my coat and hung it on the peg. I was trying to warm my hands by rubbing them together when I turned around and saw that there were no customers in the diner.

  Archie, who had heard me return, rushed out of the kitchen with a worried expression on his face. “Harper, is everything all right?”

  I was touched by Archie’s concern, but he really couldn’t do anything to help me, and it wasn’t as though I could explain the situation to him.

  Loretta floated through the wall, and I knew she wanted to ask me what had happened to Bernie, but I couldn’t explain in front of Archie.

  “I’m sorry I left you in the lurch, Archie. I had something urgent I had to do.”

  Archie didn’t reply straightaway. He waited, and I knew he wanted me to explain further, but I couldn’t.

  Eventually, he patted my shoulder and said, “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you sit down for five minutes, and I’ll make you a hot chocolate. It’s absolutely freezing out there, and your hands are like blocks of ice.”

  Archie guided me to a table, waited for me to sit down and then bustled off to the kitchen to make my chocolate. He was such a kind man. I had really fallen on my feet when I got him as my boss.

  As soon as Archie disappeared into the kitchen, Loretta was hovering by my side.

  “Well, what happened?”

  I leaned forward, peering through into the kitchen hatch to make sure that Archie wasn’t watching, and then I muttered quietly, “It was terrible. Bernie started throwing cushions at Boris Barrymore, who then blamed me.”

  Loretta frowned. “What happened to Bernie?”

  “Didn’t he come back here?”

  Loretta shook her head. “I haven’t seen him.”

  I shrugged. “After we left Boris’s house, I told him off. I said I was sick of ghostsitting, and then he zoomed off somewhere.” I saw the worried expression on Loretta’s face, and so I added, “He’ll be back when he’s calmed down.”

  Loretta nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. New ghosts can be terribly hotheaded.”

  As Archie walked out of the kitchen, Loretta drifted away saying, “Enjoy your hot chocolate.”

  Archie put the steaming mug down on the table in front of me. He’d added whipped cream and marshmallows.

  He smiled down at me and said, “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a good listener.”

  “Thank you, Archie. You are a good friend.”

  Archie blushed and smiled and then said, “Well, I’ve got the dishwasher to unload, so I’ll leave you to enjoy your hot chocolate.”

  “I can do that,” I protested, but Archie waved my words away, telling me to finish my drink.

  I’d only taken a couple of sips when the diner’s door opened, and the bell above it chimed. My gaze flickered toward the door as I prepared to get up and serve the new customer, but when I saw who it was, my stomach flipped over.

  It was Chief Wickham, and I had a horrible feeling he wasn’t here for one of his favorite lemon muffins.

  As soon as he saw me, his eyes narrowed. He pushed his hands into his pockets and walked over to my table.

  I sank a little lower in my chair. Surely this couldn’t be about Boris Barrymore already?

  “If this is about the Christmas trees, Chief Wickham, I completely understand where you’re coming from. I am doing my best to persuade Grandma Grant to offer everybody a full refund.”

  The chief shook his head somberly. “It’s not about the Christmas trees, although I have had five complaints from residents. I’ve just had a telephone call from Boris Barrymore.”

  I closed my eyes and groaned, dreading what was coming next.

  “He said you’ve been pestering him, and he reported you visited his home and assaulted him with a cushion.”

  If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed. As it was, I couldn’t help a slight snort escaping. “Are you kidding me? Assaulted with a cushion?”

  The chief looked thoughtful as he nodded. “True, when I say it out loud like that, it does sound ludicrous, but I have to take all complaints seriously, Harper. And you know you shouldn’t be pestering people about Bernie Crouch’s murder investigation. You said you would keep your nose out of it.”

  My cheeks flushed. I didn’t remember saying any such thing. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I didn’t attack Boris. I only asked him a few questions.”

  The chief raised an eyebrow. “Really? So the cushion just flew at Boris on its own, did it?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

  I frowned. This day was going from bad to worse. I hadn’t even wanted to go and visit Boris on my own, I’d only gone there to try and stop Bernie from doing something he might regret.

  I didn’t say anything and sat sulkily in my chair, staring at my hot chocolate and feeling like a teenager again.

  “On this occasion, I’ll persuade Boris not to press charges, but I’m really starting to lose my patience, Harper. You are not to go anywhere near Boris Barrymore again, do you understand me?”

  I nodded, but as the chief turned to leave, I couldn’t help saying, “Did you really have plans for Christmas Day?”

  Chief Wickham turned around slowly and cocked an eyebrow “Why?”

  “Joe said you had plans that you couldn’t cancel, so he had to work on Christmas Day. I couldn’t help wondering if you really had plans or if you were just trying to stop Joe from spending Christmas with us.”

  The chief frowned heavily and held up his hand, pointing his finger at me. “You don’t know what you’re getting into. Just leave it, Harper.”

  Well, that was the clearest signal so far that the chief didn’t want me to get involved with Joe. I didn’t understand why. Was the chief trying to protect me, or did he think as a member of the Grant family I wasn’t a good match for his deputy?

  I couldn’t help feeling disappointed because I’d always thought the chief had a soft spot for Grandma Grant, Jess and me, and it stung to think he didn’t consider me good enough for his deputy.

  Of course, I was getting way ahead of myself. It wasn’t exactly like Joe and I had a relationship. We’d only attended one party together, after all.

  “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to get to know Joe better?”

  “Because you’re better off not getting involved. Trust me.”

  “Why?”

  The chief looked like he might be about to say something. I could see the struggle he was having, deciding whether or not to confide in me, but then a crash sounded in the kitchen, and Archie cursed as he dropped something on the floor. The noise seemed to bring the chief to his senses.

  “Joe has a past, Harper. It’s not my secret to tell, but believe me when I say life would be a lot less complicated if you didn’t get to know him any better.”

  The chief nodded once, and with that, he turned on his heel and left the diner, leaving me staring after him openmouthed.

  The truth was, Joe had never led me to believe we were anything more than friends, but I had to admit
I was intrigued. What on earth was this dark secret Joe had in his past?

  I checked on Archie, who told me he was fine. Draining the rest of my hot chocolate, I thought about what Chief Wickham had said.

  If he wanted me to forget about Joe, he had definitely gone about it the wrong way. Now I was intrigued, and I really wanted to find out Joe’s secret.

  What could be so terrible? I knew he’d had to move here from New York. Maybe something bad happened in his previous job? I briefly considered asking Loretta to spy on Joe when he came into the diner, but then I immediately dismissed the idea. If Joe wanted to share his secrets with me, he would in his own good time.

  I hated to admit it, but perhaps Chief Wickham was right. Perhaps I was getting carried away with all this investigating stuff. Was I starting to cross the line between helping the ghosts I found and just being plain nosy?

  CHAPTER 19

  The rest of the afternoon was pretty quiet. It seemed everyone in Abbott Cove was prepared to go out for breakfast and lunch on Boxing Day, but they wanted to spend the evening at home. Archie closed up the diner just as it was getting dark, and he walked with me a little way along Main Street.

  I could tell he was concerned about me, and I wanted to confide in him, but there was only so much I could tell him without making him think I was crazy.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Harper?” Archie asked me for the fifteenth time in the past hour.

  I nodded as I buttoned up the top button on my coat. “Absolutely. I’m going to Grandma Grant’s for dinner this evening with Jess. We’re having leftovers, so I don’t even have to cook.”

  I smiled brightly at him and waved as he got into his car.

  He’d offered me a lift home, but I wanted to walk, despite the cold evening. I thought the alone time would do me good, especially as I would have to deal with Grandma Grant all evening. I was pretty sure she would keep me so busy I wouldn’t even have time to think. Tonight that was probably a good thing.

  I slipped my hands into my pockets and walked briskly along Main Street, heading uphill.

  There was a light layer of snow on the ground, but nothing too bad yet. Abbott Cove had some huge snowfalls in previous years, and as the Grant family house was right at the top of the hill, it made it quite difficult to get to and from the town when we had a full on snow storm. But if the weather got really bad, Grandma Grant had tins of food and jars of preserves, which would probably keep us going for months.