Witch Way to Mintwood (Witch of Mintwood Book 1)

by Addison Creek

  “And then?” Greer prodded. I knew where she was going and I was trying to avoid it.

  I sighed. “I’m going to tell Charlie the truth. I don’t think she’s getting back together with Andy, so she’ll be living here for a while, and I don’t think Mr. Bone can keep Mrs. Goodkeep in line much longer.”

  Greer nodded encouragingly, but her eyes still held concern.

  That night I put the ugly green necklace back on and headed outside. Dusk was just falling and it wasn’t even that late, but I couldn’t wait any longer. If Gracie was in trouble, I had to find her. Paws was waiting for me on my car again, this time wearing a string of pearls.

  “What? I figured if we were going somewhere fancy I should look good,” said the cat, getting in the front seat of the car again. Shaking my head, I got in on the driver’s side and pulled away, and in no time at all we were back at Gracie’s mansion. I drove slowly in case there was a police car in the area. If Detective Cutter had stationed deputies at her house, I’d have to leave and find another way to talk to the Coswell ghosts.

  But the property looked just as deserted as the last time I’d been there. The trees lining the drive reached down toward my car, creating more of a canopy than I remembered and making me nervous. I couldn’t see the house until I was nearly in the driveway, but Gracie’s car still sat there, as lonely as ever.

  Before I arrived I’d been imagining having to search for Hank, but it didn’t turn out to be necessary. I had barely stepped out of the car before he appeared in front of me, huffing angrily. He blinked in surprise when Paws scampered across the seat and came out the driver’s side door, but then recovered quickly.

  “Are there other ghosts here?” I said.

  “Yes, I’ve been trying to round them up,” he said. “I think one of them saw something, but he doesn’t want to come forward.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  Hank scuffed his foot in the dirt, unwilling to say anything.

  “Ghosts think humans are weird,” Paws supplied, playing with his pearls.

  “What? He doesn’t want to tell me what happened to Gracie because he thinks I’m weird?” I said.

  “Humans, not you in particular,” Hank clarified.

  “You tell him to come talk to me,” I said. Just then my phone started to vibrate, and I sent it to voicemail without looking at the caller. Apparently there was in fact some reception up on the hill.

  Hank swallowed. “I’ll try to convince him.”

  “You do that, and tell him I’ll come back if he doesn’t,” I said. Not wanting to linger and scare off any other ghosts that might help me, Paws and I got back in the Beetle.

  When I managed to check my phone, I had three missed calls from Charlie. My temples started to pound and I didn’t call her back. She had also texted me twice, telling me to call her, and I couldn’t respond to that, either.

  My heart was fluttering wildly. What if she had found out the truth? What if Mrs. Goodkeep, so angry about her missing great-great-granddaughter, had told her? Charlie would hate me. She would never forgive me. Greer was cool with the idea, but Greer was . . . well, Greer was not a picture-perfect reporter who wanted the sock drawer properly organized just so.

  I shot home, ignoring Paws, who was sitting in the front seat attempting to whistle (he couldn’t).

  By the time I got to my grandmother’s house, the lights were on. Greer had the day off, so it was her turn to cook. When I had advocated for it to be her turn every night, she had grunted at me. I had taken that as a tacit yes, because it wasn’t a no.

  But there was something wrong at my house, and that was apparent as soon as we drove into view.

  There was a shiny truck I had never seen before parked in the driveway.

  Were we in trouble? Was it pathetic that my mind instantly went to the possibility of the house being repossessed? I was pretty sure I was up on my payments, so hopefully not. But what else could it be?

  Clutching my shoulder bag, I marched into the living room and found Jasper Wolf standing by my fire.

  “Hi, Jasper,” I said, surprised to see him in the farmhouse. He looked taller up close, and his shoulders were broader than they used to be when he was a teenager. He was good-looking and fit as all get out, and just at this moment he was running his fingers through his wavy brown hair.

  Jasper was nice to everyone and was generally viewed around town as a really good guy. Over the years I had never heard one bad word about him. That, in fact, was why the barn project was going forward, because it was on Jasper’s say-so, and people trusted his say-so. Maybe he paid people not to repeat his faults, I thought hopefully.

  “Hey,” he said, pushing off the mantel in my living room and smiling at me. He was looking at me a little uncertainly, and I wondered if it was because he had seen me protesting his dream project. Maybe he thought I was about to yell at him.

  “Hey,” I said. “Why are you in my living room?”

  “I saw you at the presentation yesterday,” he said. “I didn’t know you were back in town. I thought you’d moved away.”

  “I had for a while,” I said, “but after my grandmother died I came back.”

  “She loved this place,” said Jasper. “My dad tried to buy it off her a couple of times and she laughed him off the porch. I can see why,” he added.

  “She never told me anyone tried to buy it,” I said. The more I heard about my grandmother, the more I realized all the stuff I didn’t know about her. She was a rascal.

  “This is a great living room,” he said, looking around. “I always wondered what the inside of the farmhouse looked like, and now I know it’s cooler than I ever imagined.”

  My eyes widened. “You did? Why?” Granted, my grandmother was something of a character around Mintwood, although she would have preferred “town legend” to “character.” Rumors of her witchiness had circulated from time to time, more often at full moons or the appearance of black cats, but I never thought Jasper would be one of the curious. He was too straight-laced and golden boy-esque.

  He shrugged. “My grandfather was always so opposed to our having any contact with ‘that woman,’ meaning your grandmother, that I thought her house must be this magical den of strange and amazing things. He couldn’t even explain how we might end up having any contact with Evenlyn to justify warning us against her. Then again, he had reason to be concerned about me, since he knew you and I were in the same class and there was a horrible chance we might speak to each other like civilized teenagers.”

  I threw back my head and laughed. “Who knew what you would lure me into, and vice versa!” I said.

  “Exactly,” he grinned.

  “Pretty sure Gran has plates, knives, spoons and forks, just like everyone else, if you consider any of those objects magical,” I said, amused at the idea that Jasper had ever wondered about my grandmother’s house or thought that it was anything out of the ordinary. Well, except for the attic, but he didn’t know about that.

  “Your grandfather and my grandmother didn’t exactly get along, did they?” I said, and Jasper laughed again.

  “My grandfather refused ever to speak of her, in fact. He was as angry as I ever saw him when he found out that Dad had tried to buy your land. I think Dad thought that if he could just get the land, he could exorcise Grandfather’s demons in relation to the place. Dad understood more than I did, but he also understood less, because my grandfather was furious. He said sure, if he could use a bulldozer and a plough he’d take the land.”

  Jasper shook his head, his eyes distant. “I remember when Grandfather found out. I heard yelling, so I crept to the edge of the stairs to listen. Dad was defending himself while Grandfather was saying, ‘You think a Wolf can be associated with that damn property?’”

  “Gran ordered me to stay away from the likes of you, too,” I mused. “She said that if she ever found out we were friends, she’d stick a frog in my tea,” I chuckled at the thought, but was less amused when Jasper jus
t looked bewildered.

  A frog in the tea was a common witch threat. “I really don’t like frogs,” I said, and Jasper’s face cleared. Close, Lemmi, very close.

  “My grandfather always said it was because your grandmother was a witch, but he wouldn’t explain why he thought so,” said Jasper, leaving that statement dangling. I suddenly became very interested in straightening the drapes. I mean, they were crooked.

  “Oh, yeah, that,” I said, blushing furiously. Jasper stepped closer, sending my heart on a run. Was he about to ask me outright if my grandmother was a witch?

  “She had all kinds of offers,” he said, “but she would never sell. My dad said she thought it would upset you too much.”

  “So you went and bought the barn property from Deacon instead?” I said, wanting to switch topics.

  What I was thinking to myself was, couldn’t she have sold the place, taken the money, and built a place that would stand up straight and not squeak and groan? Of course, I would have missed the farmhouse and the gaggle of ghosts, but come on. Truth be told, I knew she couldn’t sell the house when she felt a responsibility to so many ghosts, and besides, how could she have packed up all her witch books?

  “He wanted to sell,” said Jasper, looking a little wary now that I’d switched over to that topic. “He doesn’t want to have to deal with that wreck of a barn, so he let my family have it for a good price.”

  “It’s a pretty ambitious plan,” I said.

  “Sure, we want what’s best for the property and the town,” said Jasper, eyeing me closely, still probably to see if I was about to yell at him.

  “That old barn is a town landmark,” I reminded him. “It’s beautiful and it has always been there. You can’t get craftsmanship like that anymore.”

  “It’s also a death trap,” Jasper pointed out, reminding me of the time a couple of kids had snuck in there late one night, ignoring the signs to keep out, and fallen through the floor. Luckily, their injuries weren’t serious. “If you walked inside you’d see the rot and the mold. You should be more supportive. We’re doing something important for the town.”

  “Right, good point,” I muttered. “Wait here.”

  Just when I was about to disappear upstairs to grab Greer, she came sidling down on her own. She wore jeans and a cute t-shirt, and her mass of black hair was pinned up in a messy bun. She had spent more time around Jasper in the past couple of years because of his friendship with Deacon, but now it was her turn to look wary. I wondered if Jasper was mad at her for how she’d treated his friend, or if she just thought he was.

  “Oh, hey, glad you got home. I felt bad for leaving Jasper here while I went to change,” said Greer.

  “Yup,” I said, “he’s been telling me all about the barn deal.”

  “Charlie invited him to dinner. He was asking her all sorts of smart questions and they agreed to discuss it tonight over a home-cooked meal,” said Greer.

  “Did you know Charlie lived with us?” she said, turning to Jasper.

  “Yeah, she said as much when we talked about the meeting,” he told her. “I thought it would be great if we all had dinner together.”

  Watching my face over his shoulder, Greer made a casual shooing motion; obviously whatever I was doing with my expression wasn’t acceptable. I tried to smooth out the shock lines before Jasper turned back to me.

  “Thanks for having me,” he said. “It’s a great place.”

  Just falling down, you know, just your regular old, old, farmhouse.

  At that moment, a lengthy list of swear words, some of which I was surprised Charlie even knew, came to us from the back room.

  “I thought you were cooking,” I said to Greer, trying not to sound like I was whining. How was I supposed to get through dinner with Jasper Wolf on Charlie’s burnt chicken and mangled salad?

  “Charlie didn’t think I should have to cook for company,” said Greer, “so she offered.”

  “And you told her yes?” I said incredulously.

  Greer snorted. “Not on your life. I wanted to eat dinner, not pretend to eat dinner, and poor Jasper deserved a decent meal as our guest.”

  Jasper chuckled. “I appreciate that.”

  “What’s for dinner?” I said.

  “Pasta with Mom’s special Alfredo sauce,” said Greer proudly. “It’s nearly ready.”

  The kitchen smelled insanely good. I got to work on the dishes I had said I’d wash, then emptied the dishwasher while Jasper wandered to the back room to look in on Charlie.

  “What’s going on back here?” he asked, leaning against the doorjamb and looking in. He was far too polite to wonder why the person who had invited him to the house hadn’t stopped what she was doing to welcome him.

  Charlie had put an apron over her periwinkle blue, perfectly pressed suit. She stopped her box rearranging to sigh.

  “I’m moving in back here. This bedroom wasn’t really ready for someone to live in it, so I’m trying to throw out all the crap and get it together,” she explained.

  Jasper, to his credit, didn’t ask where Charlie had lived before. This was a small town, and gossip traveled, as Liam had made clear to me earlier that day, so Jasper probably already knew about Andy and the breakup.

  “It’s going to look great,” he said.

  “Food’s ready,” Greer yelled, nearly in my ear. I tried not to jump and glare at her.

  Greer was being unusually quiet. I would have expected her to tease me and try to get me in trouble, but she hadn’t said a word. What did Jasper know about Deacon and Greer? He was certainly good friends with Deacon, but I wasn’t sure he’d know everything about how Deacon felt about Greer. We could find out though, was what my look said.

  Someone had already pulled out my grandma’s good china and set the table. My heart skipped a little and I missed my grandmother. I also wondered just what was going on; there were undercurrents in this gathering that I just wasn’t getting.

  My plans for tonight had involved Annie’s mac and cheese in front of the TV. Charlie was supposed to be with Andy, and Jasper was supposed to be . . . not at my dinner table. Yet somehow, all of us had ended up sitting around a table, about to enjoy a nice meal together. It felt good and oddly strange to be relaxing in my own home with these people whom I had known for so long, while ghosts milled around outside in the evening. I told myself that was just my life now.

  “Thanks for having me, and thanks for making dinner,” said Jasper. “I didn’t have time to make dessert, but I brought cookies.” He pulled out a bag of cookies and set them on the counter before we all sat down to dinner. They were from the Hastings Baking Bakery, where they made the best cookies I had ever tasted. My mouth instantly started to water. Jasper Wolf was no dummy.

  “Sure thing, we love company,” said Greer. “And cookies. Not necessarily in that order.”

  “This is a great old house,” said Jasper approvingly. I bit my tongue to keep from asking him if he wanted to tear it down too. He must have sensed my turmoil, because he gave me another one of those dazzling and bemused grins. Oh, hello jelly, meet my knees. Good thing I was already sitting down.

  “We could do this regularly,” said Charlie. “Maybe get a couple more people involved. I need to meet more people after . . . “ She paused. She had been about to tell Jasper that she and her live-in boyfriend, whom she’d always planned to marry, had just broken up.

  “Did you have follow-up questions for me about the barn?” Jasper asked Charlie, and she relaxed.

  “Do you mind if I pull out my notepad at dinner?” she asked.

  Greer rolled her eyes, but Jasper said he didn’t mind at all, so Charlie ate pasta with one hand and wrote notes with the other. Most of the rest of the meal involved her asking Jasper questions, like how a new apartment complex would revitalize the town and how dangerous the barn was in its current state, and Jasper giving her intelligent and thought-provoking answers. If I hadn’t loved the barn so much, he might have persuaded even me.
>
  After the meal was over Jasper dug out the cookies and we each took two. It amazed me how easy it was for the four of us to be hanging out together. I could understand some of it. Charlie was always at ease in people’s company; her mind was such a whirl of to-do lists that she didn’t have time to worry about anything else. Greer and Jasper had known each other through Deacon.

  But I had to wonder at my own ease with Jasper. We had never hung out before, yet it felt perfectly natural to have him sitting across the dining room table, telling jokes and reminiscing about our high school math teacher, Mr. Mark.

  “He’s still the math teacher today, can you believe it?” said Jasper when he’d finished laughing. Charlie had told a story about how she’d been so bored in class that she’d made a chart on her notepaper and used it to count down the seconds until class was over.

  “I believe it,” said Charlie. “He’s going to teach forever.”

  While everyone else talked, I glanced out the window. What I saw beyond its painted white frame made me tense up. There on the grass was Mrs. Goodkeep, holding the broom again and staring at me with an evil smile spread across her face.

  I shifted uncomfortably so my back was more to the window and I wouldn’t have to see her. As soon as Jasper left, I was going to tell Charlie my secret. If Greer could handle it, she could too.

  We chatted for a while longer, then I made the mistake of glancing out the window again. Mrs. Goodkeep had come closer.

  “All right, so cool, this was fun,” I said. My two roommates and Jasper looked at me in confusion.

  “It’s just getting late,” I said.

  Jasper glanced at his phone and nodded. “Wow, I had no idea how late it was. I’m so sorry for imposing. You’re right. I should get going. I have a lot to do tomorrow anyhow.” He quickly stood up.

  “There are still cookies, you should take some with you,” said Greer, glancing at the bag Jasper was leaving behind.

  “Not a chance,” said Jasper.