Spell by Midnight (Witch of Mintwood Book 3)

by Addison Creek

  “I guess it shouldn’t be so surprising that you came out here to find us. You had to find us eventually one way or another,” mused Betty. “Took you a while, though.”

  “You did drive up to Ms. Ivy’s house and then drive away,” Greer pointed out. “It’s not as though you weren’t conspicuous.”

  “We saw that you were headed that way and wanted to get a good look at you,” Betty shrugged.

  “Who else is staying here? Do you have permission?” Charlie asked.

  Betty and Possy looked at Charlie incredulously.

  “Permission?” Betty said. “Honey, we’re witches, that’s all the permission we need. No one has been here in years. The owners should be grateful to us for taking care of the place. And in answer to your other question, it’s just me and Possy,” she added.

  “So you aren’t all here together?” I said.

  “Certainly not,” she said. “Some went home when they realized how many were here. Not the higher-ups, mind, they’re still here, wanting to see what Evenlyn’s granddaughter can do. Not much as far as I’ve observed. You really have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

  “You know who the other witches are?” Charlie asked.

  “You have relationships with ghosts like Lemmi does?” said Greer.

  It was looking as if I wasn’t going to get a word in edgewise.

  “We can all see and interact with ghosts to some extent, but Lemmi’s grandmother was always the best at that. She also had a varied collection of jewelry that helped her see them and speak to them,” said Betty. “We were always jealous of her.”

  “Care to tell me what’s going on?” I asked, insisting on some air space.

  “That’s not for me to say. Still, if you don’t mind, we’d like to stay in Mintwood a while longer. We like the air out here. I promise we’re on your side, especially for witches.”

  “What do you mean ‘especially for witches’?”

  “Witches aren’t a terribly helpful or friendly bunch,” Betty explained.

  I gave the woman a searching look. I hadn’t known there were sides to choose from.

  I hoped mine didn’t turn out to be the losing one.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After meeting my first set of witches, I had a newfound respect for what my grandmother must have accomplished over the years. She had clearly been a well-respected member of the community. But I didn’t have much time to think about what that implied, because someone was waiting for us when we got home.

  “Why are surprise guests sitting on the porch always for Charlie?” Greer wondered.

  Charlie’s ex-boyfriend Andy had showed up at the house once to give her the cheery news that he had found someone else and could she please remove her things from their formerly shared apartment as soon as possible.

  This time, it was the handsome (my words, Charlie’s thoughts) reporter Hansen Gregory sitting on the porch, a breath away from Paws. Not that Hansen knew that.

  Paws, who was visible but not as visible as he would be once night fell, was eyeing the reporter with glee.

  “I like this one,” said the cat as we got out of the Beetle.

  “Don’t get too attached. He won’t be here long,” Charlie muttered.

  Hansen smiled and stood up as we arrived. “Sorry to barge in on you like this, Lemmi, Greer, but Charlie wasn’t answering my text messages.”

  “You were ignoring his texts?” Greer said with an exaggerated gasp. “Actually, I’m like not surprised.”

  “I told him we couldn’t work together, and then I stopped reading anything else he sent me,” Charlie huffed.

  “Want to come in?” I said to Hansen.

  “What?” Charlie gasped.

  “He’s sitting on the porch and it’s cold. The least we can do is invite him in and hear what he has to say,” I said.

  There was a lot that I had to fill Paws in on, like the fact that I had met some of the witches who’d been trolling around my town, but that would have to wait.

  “Thanks, that’d be great,” said Hansen. His cheeks were red and flushed, making his dark blue eyes all the more prominent.

  The four of us went inside and filed into the kitchen. Charlie, to avoid having to actually speak to Hansen as if he was a real person, busied herself with tea, while Greer and I sat at the table and chatted with him.

  “I’m enjoying your articles in the Chronicle,” said Greer.

  Bang! A teacup hit the floor.

  “They’re really, really good,” Greer added.

  Splat! An old teabag landed on the counter.

  “However do you get such pertinent information?” wondered Greer.

  A mug was slammed down in front of the bartender.

  At least there was steeping tea in it, but it was a costly offering. Charlie was glaring daggers at her roommate.

  “Thank you,” said Hansen. “I try. Information comes from a lot of sources, but I’ve always found the cultivation of informants very enjoyable.”

  “You’re a people person,” I supplied.

  Hansen chuckled as two more cups of tea were unceremoniously slammed down on the table.

  “Charlie, are you going to join us?” Greer asked.

  Charlie was making her way toward the door of her room, but now my blond journalist friend froze and said, “I was going to join you after I finished sweeping, mopping, and doing my laundry. Maybe a couple of hours from now?”

  “Oh, stop being ridiculous and sit down,” I said.

  It was an order, and Charlie obeyed. She came over and sat in the furthest seat away from Hansen, glaring at the world.

  “I really think we can help each other,” said Hansen, turning to Charlie.

  “Oh, yeah? How’s that?” Charlie asked. “Pretty sure when you say that you mean I can help you.”

  “I have information that will break this case wide open,” said Hansen.

  “And if you have such important information, why are you willing to share it with me?” Charlie asked.

  Hansen leaned back. “I’m willing to share it with you because we need to work together to get to the bottom of this, and sharing information and both of us writing articles about what we find is the only way we’re going to do that.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I cared enough to come all the way out here. I promise the information is good,” said Hansen.

  Charlie bit her lower lip, thinking hard. “Fine,” she said at last. “We can work together this time, but I’m making no promises for the future. We work for different newspapers. It’s not like we’re friends.”

  “But we’re on the same side,” Hansen persisted.

  “What side is that?” Charlie asked.

  “We both want the truth,” he said.

  He didn’t stay long after that. He and Charlie disappeared into the living room for a while, and the moment he was out the door Charlie raced to her room, yelling that she had a story to write.

  I went back to the porch to check on Paws, but he was nowhere to be seen. Before I went to bed I tried the freezing spell that had been performed on me earlier.

  There was nothing like being frozen to get me motivated with my magic.

  I did manage to perform several spells. I even got one of them right. Well, one and a half. There was the one where I started the fire (not the spell I meant to cast) and the one where I put it out (yay!).

  The next morning, articles appeared in the Chronicle and the Gazette written by the premier reporters for each paper. The content overlapped somewhat, but Charlie and Hansen had approached their subject quite differently, so it was fascinating to read the articles in tandem.

  Since Charlie had stayed up most of the night writing, I read the papers with no company but Charger while Charlie slept in and Greer slept her normal hours. Charger, excited that anyone was awake at all, kept trying to lick my hands. When he finally calmed down, he sat companionably warming my feet while I read. Charlie’s article went like
this:

  The piece of blue ribbon found at the crime scene has been identified as a lady’s hair tie. It is possibly several years old and may be tied to the investigation into the skeleton of Hank Smith, which was found at the bottom of the silo during a fundraiser several days ago.

  Unfortunately, the ribbon is stuck inside the silo and cannot be retrieved without great care, so there hasn’t been a forensic examination as yet.

  Charlie had given a lot of the same details as Hansen, but her reporting was more straightforward, while Hansen clearly had a flare for the dramatic. Charlie was hoping the article would inspire the culprit to return to the scene of the crime: Jasper’s barn.

  The plan was simple. Hansen was sure that someone at the real estate company the Smiths owned had sent the emails saying that Hank had left for Europe. He had made up a lie about something having been found at the scene of the crime to make the killer think the police were closing in. He hoped that information (fake as it was) would make the killer reckless.

  Now all we had to do was stake out the barn and wait for the emailer to show up and reclaim whatever he or she thought was still at the scene.

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” Charlie asked, coming out of her room dressed all in black.

  The day had passed quietly enough. We were waiting for night to fall, when we thought the perpetrator would expect the Babbling Brook Barn to be deserted.

  The thing was, we’d be waiting too.

  “Is that your cat burglar outfit?” asked Greer.

  “Naturally,” said Charlie, twirling. “What do you think?”

  “I think you look like you’re going to a fashion magazine opening,” said Greer.

  “We have to try. If it takes a stake-out at the Babbling Brook Barn, so be it,” I said.

  “In the hope of coming face-to-face with a killer. Sounds like a plan,” said Greer. Then she tied her hair back, ran upstairs, and came back wearing all black, just like Charlie.

  She ignored Charlie’s smug look.

  Paws wasn’t about to let me leave without a stern talking-to.

  “Is it true that you met with witches without telling me?” he hissed.

  He was curled up on the porch as usual, and I was standing outside in the cold while I waited for my friends to be completely ready.

  “Yes,” I said. “We thought they were attacking Ms. Ivy’s house, so we went looking for them. It turns out they were her neighbors and had no idea who was attacking my house, except that it wasn’t them.”

  “Care to tell me what their names are, or can’t you be bothered to share even that much?” said Paws.

  I told him who they were and that they were looking for a place where they could settle, and I thought the Dresden house would be fine.

  “And you believed all that nonsense about wanting a fresh start and just here to help?” he growled.

  “Was I not supposed to?” I said.

  “Not until they prove they’re on your side,” he said.

  “I didn’t know there were sides to take,” I said.

  “There are always sides to take,” he said.

  “Fine, I’ll try to test their loyalty. Whatever that means.”

  This witching business sure was getting complicated, but Paws did have a point. These women had promised to help me even though I didn’t know them at all. Now that Paws had made me admit it to myself, I had sensed that something was amiss while we were at the Dresden house, but I still wasn’t sure what. Paws had motivated me to face the fact that they weren’t telling me the full story, and that Betty had no intention of doing so until the right time, which was to say, her time.

  I wasn’t going to tell Paws any of that, though. It might go to his head.

  “What about your magic?” he pushed.

  “What about it?” I said.

  “Have you been practicing?” he said.

  “Yes, I practice all the time in my free time, which I have so much of at the moment,” I muttered.

  “You’re here now. You should practice while you have a chance,” he said.

  “It’s never enough with you, is it!” I said. “I find witches, I take care of cats, meanwhile I’m investigating a murder, and you just want more more more.”

  “Sheesh, and you think cats are dramatic,” he said with a great big yawn.

  “Fine, I’ll practice. But just until Greer and Charlie are ready to go. We have a murderer to catch, and it’s not as if they’re going to wait for me to finish up Spells 101,” I said.

  I pulled the wand out of my back pocket, where I had taken to sticking it, and held it gently, like Gary had taught me.

  Speaking of, the ghost himself appeared, making me jump.

  “Evening! I see you’re practicing some magic! I came to watch in case there was another light display,” he twittered, pleased with how amusing he was.

  Ghost Gary settled next to Paws, then picked up the ghost cat and absently started petting him. Tank came and watched from a distance, giving Paws a wide birth.

  Now that I had an audience, I felt pressure to actually get a spell right. The previous night I had managed to use a common spell that extinguished flame, but given that I couldn’t perform the spell that led to the flame properly, I didn’t think it would be much use now. Instead I went with an uncomplicated moving objects spell.

  I did like the simplicity of these spells. If I wanted to move something, I simply started with the word spell and then said what I wanted, like “Move.” How I had started a fire last night I had no idea.

  “Just because they’re simple to say doesn’t mean they’re simple to do,” said the cat.

  I glared at Paws. For reading my mind and then arguing with it, he deserved the look and then some.

  I had about ten minutes to practice, and to my complete and utter amazement, by the end of that time I had managed to shift the box that Paws and Gary were sitting on by about half an inch.

  “Did you move that intentionally, so it looked like I did something?” I asked suspiciously.

  “How would we have done that? Your magic did that. Not that it’s useful, but it’s a start,” said Gary. He looked on with approval. “They grow up so fast,” he said, jabbing at his eye.

  “Are you ready to go?” said Charlie.

  She and Greer had come out of the house, both of them dressed entirely in black from their boots to their jackets.

  “Yes, I practiced magic for ten minutes and already I’m tired of these two,” I said.

  “Who could ever tire of us?” wondered Paws.

  “I can’t imagine anyone,” I drawled. “Are you coming with us or not?”

  “Of course I am,” said the cat, hopping off the box and racing Charlie to the car.

  I waved goodbye to Gary, who was still sitting happily on the box, dangling his legs over the edge and swinging them back and forth. Now that he didn’t mind my knowing he lived at the farmhouse, I saw him around quite often. As for Tank, the further away Paws got from the house, the closer the rabbit came.

  We drove to the barn in silence. I felt guilty, because I had told Jasper I’d behave myself, and here I was going to stake out his barn without telling him.

  To be fair, unless we saw someone else breaking into the barn first, we didn’t intend to break in ourselves. But still, I didn’t think Jasper would appreciate it.

  “What did you tell Hansen when he asked to come along?” said Greer.

  “That he didn’t have to come along. He said he thought the three of us had it pretty well in hand, and he didn’t want to intrude,” said Charlie. “I told him he was right.”

  “So he’ll be happy as long as you give him the story too?” I said.

  “Yes, I’m to email him if we catch anyone, so he can be the first to get here,” she said.

  “Are you actually going to do that?” said Greer.

  “Of course I am. I told him so and I would never go back on my word, except for that one time when I told my mom I hadn’t ta
ken the cookie and of course I really had,” she confessed.

  “I remember the days of cookies,” said Paws, licking his whiskers.

  The barn was in darkness when we arrived, and I made sure to park my car far enough away so that it wouldn’t be easily spotted. The clouds skated across the sky, hiding the sparkling stars, then pulling the curtain back and letting them burst back onto center stage before disappearing once again.

  “It’s a beautiful night for a robbery,” sighed Charlie as we got out of the Beetle, trying to close the doors of the old car as quietly as possible.

  Henry had worked his magic a second time and the car was running smoothly, with not a wisp of black, billowing smoke to grace our trips around town.

  “Are you already trying out lines for your article tomorrow?” Greer asked.

  “Yes, I rather liked that one,” Charlie beamed.

  “I thought it was beautiful,” said Paws as he trotted alongside us.

  “Don’t get me wrong, but can you try to be useful this time?” I said.

  “I’m always useful. Who saved you when the witches attacked the farmhouse?”

  “For all we know, that was mostly Mr. Bone,” said Greer.

  “It most certainly was not! How rude! Fine, you want me to be useful this time, what would you like me to do?” Paws demanded.

  “Scout the perimeter. Make sure we’re as alone here as it feels like we are. Don’t get sidetracked by mice or lady kitties,” I said.

  “I would never get sidetracked by lady kitties,” said Paws as he skipped away.

  “Does that mean he would get sidetracked by the other?” Greer whispered to me.

  “Yes, I think it does,” I said, chuckling to myself. Paws did love to chase little animals. Half the time when he wasn’t on his porch box he was flying around the yard after the birds.

  “Too bad for him it’s always the same birds he’s after,” said Charlie.