by DS Butler
Bernie hadn’t returned to the diner after our argument, and even though I was still annoyed with him, I was starting to get worried.
There were pretty strings of fairy lights in the windows as I walked past the small shops. I turned off Main Street and walked along a quiet residential road lined with narrow, two-story houses. Some had festive lights in the window, and a couple had illuminated Santa Clauses and snowmen in their front yards.
They all looked cozy and warm, and I shivered as I continued my walk uphill.
As I stepped into the trail leading up to the Grant house, I shivered again. It didn’t seem so cozy and welcoming here. I had a mini torch on my keyring, but I was used to walking the trail, and as it wasn’t completely dark yet, I decided not to bother using it.
The snow crunched beneath my shoes as I walked briskly onwards.
I was three-quarters of the way up the hill when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I must have jumped about a foot in the air. I turned around, screaming with fright.
“Calm down, Harper,” Jess said. “It’s only me. Who did you think it was?”
I glared at her. The snow must have muffled her footfalls because I hadn’t heard her catching up to me.
“You shouldn’t creep up on people, especially not when there’s a murderer on the loose.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t creeping up on you. If you didn’t hear me, it’s because you were too preoccupied. Don’t tell me. You’re still dwelling on the great cushion incident.”
Jess smirked, and I scowled back at her. “It’s not funny! You know Chief Wickham came to find me. Apparently, Boris accused me of assaulting him with a cushion!”
Jess snorted with laughter. “Assaulted him with a cushion? Haha, I’ve never heard anything so funny.”
She laughed until tears started to roll down her cheeks.
I didn’t find it amusing, and carried on, walking quickly up the hill so she had to run to catch up with me.
“You have to admit it’s funny, Harper,” Jess said.
“I don’t find being reprimanded by Chief Wickham particularly funny.”
Jess tried to stop laughing, but she couldn’t and giggled helplessly. “You have to admit, it could have been worse. At least if Boris thought you attacked him with the cushions, he’s not spreading rumors that you are a witch!”
I shrugged. I supposed Jess had a point, and it did make me feel a little better.
“So, are you prepared,” I asked as we approached Grandma Grant’s house.
I took a deep breath as I stared up at the gothic exterior.
“Prepared for what?” Jess asked.
“Prepared to convince Grandma Grant she has to refund everybody who bought Christmas trees from her. It won’t be easy.”
“Good luck with that. I think I’ll leave it to you. You have a knack for these kinds of things.”
And with that she pushed open the front door, leaving me glaring angrily at her.
I followed Jess inside and called out hello to Grandma Grant as we shrugged our coats off. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, and Athena, with her shocking blue fur, lay curled up in front of it.
I grimaced and felt guilty. I had been hoping the spell would just wear off on its own, but it wasn’t looking likely now.
I followed Jess into the kitchen and saw Grandma Grant arranging cold meats on a platter.
I moved behind her to wash my hands in the sink. “Grandma Grant, we’ve been thinking…”
“That sounds dangerous,” Grandma Grant quipped.
I ignored her comment and pressed on. “We thought for the good of the town, and in order for us to be able to show our faces in Abbott Cove in the future, you should offer everyone who bought a Christmas tree from you a full refund.”
I said the words quickly. I’d considered waiting until after we’d eaten, but I didn’t want to be worrying about it all night and decided to blurt it out and get it out of the way.
I held my breath as I waited for her answer and saw Jess watching her cautiously, too.
“Oh, that. That’s old news. It’s been dealt with.” She waved a hand in dismissal as she began to butter some bread.
“What exactly do you mean by dealt with?” Jess asked nervously.
“I’ve already given everybody their money back. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“Oh.” I shot a glance at Jess who looked just as surprised as I felt.
Grandma Grant looked at us both and then said, “Well, now that’s out of the way, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
We all carried the food to the kitchen table and then sat down. We feasted on the leftovers from yesterday, along with sharp pickles, and the traditional English bubble and squeak Grandma Grant had fried up.
Our family originated from England, according to Grandma Grant, and in fact, most of the families in Abbot Cove had ancestors from England. Many of the local dishes were inspired by British cooking, and some of the words used locally were also influenced heavily by British English.
Now and then, Grandma Grant would come out with a phrase or saying that we’d never heard before, and she’d inform us it was an old English phrase. Sometimes, I suspected she just made them up to tease us.
I was impressed that Grandma Grant had already sorted out the Christmas tree situation. Now, all that was left was for her to smooth things over between her and my father.
“Have you spoken to Dad?” I asked casually as I reached for a slice of bread and butter.
Grandma Grant sighed. “I’ve come to a decision. Being a witch is an important part of me, and I’m not going to change to make other people happy, not even my own son.”
I bit down on my lip. I didn’t understand why our father couldn’t just accept magic into his life. Fair enough, it must’ve been a shock when he’d first discovered it, but it couldn’t have been more shocking for him than it was for Jess and me. At least he’d been brought up knowing Grandma Grant was a witch. Jess and I hadn’t known anything about our witchy heritage until we turned sixteen. Now, that was a shock. When I first started to see ghosts, I thought I was losing my mind.
I was still a little angry with my father for not preparing me properly.
When Grandma Grant talked about our father, she always said he had turned his back on magic, but she’d never mentioned any skills he had.
“Are you sure you can’t just offer an olive branch?” Jess asked. “We can avoid the subject of magic whenever he’s around, can’t we?”
Grandma Grant shook her head slowly and turned to face Jess. “I tried that at Christmas. It made me miserable, and I came to realize that pretending to be something you aren’t isn’t healthy. I know you love your father, but you shouldn’t have to pretend around him.”
Jess shrugged, but I could tell Grandma Grant’s words had affected her.
“We have to pretend to everybody else. I don’t see why it’s any different.”
Grandma Grant picked up her knife and fork. “There is a big difference. It’s one thing to pretend to casual acquaintances, but when you’ve confided your deepest secret in someone, and they turn their back on you, that’s not right. I can’t ignore my magic. It’s part of me. He is asking the impossible.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. Everything suddenly seemed very serious. I was used to disagreements between my father and grandma, and I was used to Grandma Grant flying off the handle for no reason at all, but she seemed very calm as she discussed this and it had me worried.
“But, you’ll get over it eventually, right?” I insisted. “I mean, he’s your son, you can’t just ignore him.”
Jess shot me a startled look as what I was saying sank in. We both looked at Grandma Grant.
She shook her head. “I’m not turning my back on anyone. I’m here, and if he wants to see me, he knows where to find me. But I am done trying to hide what I am whenever he’s around. For a long time, he used you gir
ls as an excuse. He didn’t want you scared or worried, but Lily’s nearly sixteen now, and he is showing no sign of becoming more tolerant.”
Jess had tears in her eyes as she asked, “So you don’t want to see him again?”
Grandma Grant shook her head. “I’m not saying that. But if I follow the rules he dictates, I’m acting as though I’m ashamed of my magic. And I’m not.”
Jess looked down at her plate.
This day had been awful. I’d fallen out with Bernie, and now I was learning just how deep this rift was between the magical and non-magical members of my family. I didn’t understand why we couldn’t get along.
I couldn’t even imagine my own life without magic now. I wasn’t exactly good at anything. Certainly not spells—Athena’s fur would attest to that, but as Grandma Grant said, magic was a part of me now, and I’d embraced it.
It made life awkward when I couldn’t share it with the people I interacted with on a daily basis. I’d love to be able to tell Archie, but I didn’t think he was ready to hear about my unusual abilities.
My lips quirked up in a smile as I imagined the look on Joe McGrady’s face if I told him.
Although it was a difficult conversation, I could see Grandma Grant was right. It was about accepting who you were and not being ashamed. I may not be great at spells, but I could see ghosts. I could see it as a curse or a talent. It was up to me how I chose to look at it.
I could make a difference with my magic and had done in the past. I’d helped Elizabeth Naggington and Yvonne Dean move on and get closure, and I would do my best to help Bernie, too.
After dinner, we helped Grandma Grant clear up and did the dishes, and then Jess and I put our coats on and prepared to head out for the short walk to our cottage.
Before we left, Grandma Grant said, “Just a moment. I think you’ve forgotten something.”
Her piercing eyes were fixed on me.
Whenever she looked at me like that, I felt guilty, even if I hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d had that effect on me since I was a child.
I gulped and tried to not look shifty. “What? I don’t think we’ve forgotten anything.”
Grandma Grant pointed a finger toward the fire. Stretched out on the rug was Athena, carefully grooming her bright blue fur.
“Oh, Athena?”
Grandma Grant nodded firmly. “It’s time you dealt with your mistake, Harper.”
My eyes widened as I looked from Grandma Grant back to Athena. She couldn’t be serious. I had no idea where to start.
“Couldn’t you do it,” I wheedled. “Knowing my luck Athena will probably turn into a ball of fuzz next.”
“No,” Grandma Grant said sternly. “I won’t do it. If I cast the spell for you, you’ll never learn. Think of it as a crash course in reversing spells.”
I could think of it like that, on the other hand, I could think of it as cruel, unnecessary torture, both to me and to Athena.
But I could tell from the look on Grandma Grant’s face that she wasn’t about to accept no for an answer.
I groaned and walked over to the fire to pick up Athena who gave a little meow of protest.
I wrapped her in my coat so she wouldn’t get cold, but she still didn’t look happy about being taken from her favorite spot by the fire. I can’t say I blamed her.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered to the cat. “But it looks like you and I are in for a long night of spells.”
CHAPTER 20
After Jess and I had returned to our cottage, I stood beside the window gazing out at the dark night. The snow had stopped, and all that remained was a light sprinkling on the ground and the trees.
I was lost in thought, staring out at the dark blue sky, when Jess said, “Bernie will come back, Harper. He is bound to.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t see him. He was hurt and confused. I was just so mad at him… I should have been more understanding. He might not come back.” I stared forlornly at the dark shadowy trees outside.
I was regretting treating Bernie so harshly.
“Of course, he’ll come back.”
“How do you know that? How can you be so sure?”
Jess shrugged. “He can’t talk to anyone else. He’s probably just sulking somewhere. Once he gets it out of his system, he’ll be back. You’re the only one who can help him.”
“I wondered if he might go back to the diner tonight. He can talk to other ghosts. Maybe he’d prefer to talk things through with Loretta.” I sighed. “You’re right, though. There’s no point in dwelling on what happened. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to tell him off, but what’s done is done. I need to concentrate on what’s important —finding Bernie’s killer.”
Jess grinned. “Good idea. How are you going to do that?”
Good question.
“I’m going to write down what we have discovered so far and try to narrow down some suspects.”
Jess shot a sideways glance at Athena, who was sitting curled up on the rug next to Smudge. “And I suppose you’re going to get straight onto casting spells just as soon as you’ve finished making your list of suspects?”
I grimaced. I really wasn’t looking forward to that. “Can’t you do it?” I begged Jess.
Jess smirked. “No way, Grandma Grant would kill me. Besides, it’s good for you. It’s a learning experience.”
I pulled a face, and Jess laughed and left me, walking into the kitchen to make tea.
I picked up a notepad and pen from the dresser drawer and carried them over to the sofa. I sat down, tucked my legs under me and turned to a blank page. My first task was to write down my list of suspects.
So far, my main suspects were: Boris Barrymore, Terry Woods and Sandy Crouch.
Sandy didn’t strike me as a killer, but she did have a motive. She would inherit all of Bernie’s money, so I couldn’t rule her out.
I tapped the end of the pen on my chin as I thought.
Jess brought over a cup of chamomile tea and set the cup on the table for me.
She looked at my notepad critically.
“It doesn’t look like you’ve gotten very far.”
“These things take time. I’m thinking.”
“Sounds painful,” Jess quipped and quickly ducked back out of my reach as I moved to slap her.
“I’d get a lot further if you’d stop bothering me.”
Jess rolled her eyes and went to pick up her e-reader. “Fine. I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”
Both Smudge’s and Athena’s ears pricked up at the mention of the word mouse, and I couldn’t help grinning at their eager faces.
I went back to my suspect deliberations. The notepad just wasn’t going to cut it. I needed a chart of some kind. It was a shame I didn’t have a whiteboard. A real detective would have a whiteboard.
Instead, I ripped up a sheet of paper so I had an individual square of paper for each suspect. I lined them up on the floor and then I wrote out potential motives and their known whereabouts at the time of the crime.
I wasn’t sure about Terry Woods. Now that some time had passed since our scary altercation, I was feeling a little braver and wondered if I dared visit his wife, even though he’d forbidden me to do so.
It wasn’t long before I realized that tearing up pieces of paper and making my chart on the floor was a bad idea with two cats nearby. They thought I was playing a game.
Athena batted the piece of paper with Terry Woods name on it with her paw, and while I was trying to extract it from her, Smudge picked up Boris Barrymore and scampered off with that square of paper.
Honestly, what chance did I have?
I was considering giving up and following Jess’s example of reading a book when there was a knock at the door.
I got to my feet and asked Jess, “Were you expecting anyone?”
Jess shook her head, and I peeked out of the window beside the door and saw that our visitor was Joe McGrady.
I whirled around and said in a panicked voice
, “It’s Joe!”
Jess grinned. “Don’t just leave him standing on the doorstep. It’s cold tonight.”
I turned back to open the door and plastered a smile on my face to cover my nerves. I really hoped he wasn’t here on official business.
“Hi Joe, come in,” I said, opening the door wider.
“Evening,” Joe said to me and then turned to say hello to Jess.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” Jess asked.
Joe shook his head. “No, thank you. I won’t stay.”
He opened his mouth to say something else and then stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on Athena. “You’ve got a blue cat.”
I shrugged. “It’s not my cat. It’s Grandma Grant’s cat,” I said as though that should explain everything.
Joe seemed too shocked to say anything else for a moment, and as he stood there, staring at Athena, Smudge walked over to us and began winding her way around his legs in greeting.
Smudge was a friendly cat. Athena was far too grand to greet visitors.
Joe reached down to give Smudge some attention, and she purred in delight as he petted her.
“Chief Wickham told me you visited Boris Barrymore today and assaulted him with a cushion.”
I groaned, and to Joe’s credit, his mouth twitched in a smile.
“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” I asked shaking my head.
“Yes, but it’s a serious business, Harper.”
I nodded somberly. “I know. Chief Wickham spoke to me about it today, and I promised him that I would stay away from suspects from now on.”
Joe quirked an eyebrow as he stroked Smudge’s fur. “Really? Well, that’s good to hear. I…” But before he said anything else, he noticed a torn piece of paper at Smudge’s feet and reached down to pick it up.
I realized with a sinking heart what it was immediately. One of my suspects.
