Witch Is Why The Owl Returned (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 21)

by Adele Abbott

“Have you already spoken to Karen and Susan?” she asked, once we were seated in the living room.

  “Yes. They both gave me the impression that that night still weighs heavy on their minds, even after all this time.”

  “Really? Personally, I can’t see the point in dragging all this up again. It can only cause pain to Angie’s mother.”

  “She was the one who asked me to take another look at the disappearance.”

  “Even so. It can’t be good for her.”

  “How would you feel if your daughter went missing? Do you think you’d be able to put it behind you? Ever?”

  “I suppose not. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I just have a few questions.”

  “Sure.”

  “How would you describe Angie?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Was she a happy person?”

  “She was happy enough. The same as the rest of us.”

  “Susan suggested that Angie was more subdued than the rest of the group. She said Angie changed after her father died?”

  “I wouldn’t have described her as subdued, but then I hadn’t known her as long as Susan.”

  “What about her stepfather?”

  “What about him?”

  “Did Angie ever mention him?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “Susan suggested she didn’t like him.”

  “I don’t recall her ever saying that.”

  “How was Angie on the night she disappeared?”

  “She was fine.”

  “Not poorly?”

  “No.”

  “Was she drunk?”

  “No more than the rest of us.”

  “What do you think happened to her?”

  “I’ve no idea, and to be honest, I’d prefer not to think about it. I moved on with my life a long time ago, and in my opinion, it would be better if the others did the same. You can’t seriously believe there is any realistic chance of finding Angie alive after so long?”

  “I hope to find out what happened to her if only to give her mother closure.”

  “You’re wasting your time, if you ask me.”

  Call it P.I. intuition if you like, but something about Michelle Wright just didn’t ring true. Several of her answers contradicted those given by Susan and Karen. And whereas the other two women still seemed haunted by that night, Michelle seemed overly keen to forget it. I came away with the distinct impression that she was hoping to persuade me to drop the case. Why would she want that?

  After leaving her apartment, and purely on a hunch, I cast the ‘listen’ spell. Sure enough, moments later, I heard Michelle make a phone call.

  “It’s me. Yes, she’s just left. I don’t know. I tried to tell her she was wasting her time, but she’s very pushy. Your mum, yes. No, of course I didn’t tell her anything. Yes, okay. I’ll let you know if I hear from her again. Okay, bye.”

  Hmm? It seemed my hunch had been right. Unless I was very much mistaken, Michelle Wright had just been speaking to Angie Potts. If that was true, one thing was obvious, Angie did not want to be found by her mother. That was of course her prerogative, but I had to at least speak to her, so I could find out why.

  Michelle was quite obviously not expecting to see me again so soon.

  “What do you want now?”

  “Sorry. I got to the car and realised I hadn’t got my car keys. I think I must have dropped them on your armchair.”

  “Oh? Okay, you’d better come through.”

  As soon as we were inside, and she’d closed the door, I cast the ‘freeze’ spell. I then grabbed her phone from the coffee table, and searched for the last number dialled. After making a note of it, I returned the phone, reversed the ‘freeze’ spell, and then cast the ‘forget’ spell on my way out of the door.

  After magicking myself back to Washbridge, I found a quiet spot, and then called the number I’d taken from Michelle Wright’s phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Angie? Angie Potts?”

  “You’ve got the wrong number.”

  “Angie, don’t hang up. I know it’s you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ve already traced your location,” I lied. “I know you don’t want your parents to know where you are, and I promise I won’t tell them, but only if you agree to meet with me.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth? How do I know they won’t turn up too?”

  “You don’t, I’m afraid. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Okay. When? Where?”

  “You name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

  ***

  I’d sent Jack a message to let him know I’d be late in. I told him that I was going to Mrs V’s house for dinner. That wasn’t entirely true. I was actually going there to try to catch the garden gnome thief, but I figured Jack didn’t need to know that. He already thought I was crazy.

  In the meantime, I went back to the office; there were paperclips that needed sorting.

  Winky, who was still dressed as a musketeer, was jumping up and down, screaming at his phone. Something was obviously amiss.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s a disaster!”

  “What is?”

  “The dates on the app somehow all got messed up. People are turning up for holiday rentals on the wrong week.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “If I knew that, I’d sort it out. I’ve got dozens of cats ringing to tell me that guests have arrived one week early.”

  Just then, his phone rang.

  “I know. Yes, the dates are wrong. I don’t know. I’m trying to sort it out.”

  And I thought I had problems.

  Snigger.

  Chapter 23

  Before going to Mrs V’s house, I wanted to grab a quick word with Luther.

  “Jill?”

  “Hi, Luther. I’m just calling to tell you that I may have found a job for Maria. Is she still looking for one? I don’t have her number, or I’d have called her myself.”

  “I’m just with a client at the moment.”

  “Oh? Sorry. I—”

  “That’s okay. Why don’t I give you her number so you can tell her yourself? I know she’s still looking for something.”

  Maria picked up on the first ring.

  “Maria, it’s Jill. Luther gave me your number. Are you still looking for a job?”

  “Yes, but I’m not having much joy. I have good references, but they’re all from businesses in Candlefield. I can hardly use any of those over here.”

  “I’ve heard of a job that you might be interested in. It’s a little unusual though.”

  “Right now, I’m prepared to consider anything.”

  “My grandmother has a shop on the high street. It’s called Ever A Wool Moment. Have you seen it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “As the name suggests, it sells yarn and that kind of stuff, but it also has a tea room, a roof terrace, and she’s just opened a ballroom in the basement.”

  “Wow! It sounds like there’s a lot going on there.”

  “No kidding. Grandma likes to describe it as a destination. My sister, Kathy, already works there.”

  “How does she like it?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you. She isn’t in love with the place, but that’s mainly because of Grandma. She can be—err—challenging.”

  “What exactly do you mean by challenging?”

  “To be honest, she can be a real pain in the backside. She’ll expect you to work harder than you’ve ever done in your life, and then spend all day criticising you.”

  “You’re really selling this.”

  “I just want you to know what you’d be letting yourself in for. You would at least have the advantage of being a sup. Poor Kathy and Chloe are both humans, and have no idea what’s going on, half the time.”

  “I really could do with a job.”

  “W
hy don’t you think about it, and let me know?”

  “No need. I’d like to go for it. Do you think your grandmother will consider my application?”

  “I’ve already mentioned you to her, and she’s prepared to give you a trial.”

  “Without even an interview?”

  “Apparently, but I should warn you that she thinks all vampires are untrustworthy.”

  “Oh great.”

  “I shouldn’t read too much into that. Grandma doesn’t trust anyone. You’ll see what I mean after you’ve been working there for a while. So, are you sure? Should I let her know that you want the job?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay. I’ll get back to you with a start date.”

  “Great. Thanks, Jill.”

  Grandma took forever to pick up, and when she did eventually answer, it was short and to the point.

  “What do you want?”

  “Charming.”

  “I’m busy with my bunions. Why are you disturbing me?”

  “I’ve just been talking to Maria.”

  “Who?”

  “The vampire I mentioned to you.”

  “Untrustworthy, the lot of them.”

  “She’d like to take the job. When do you want her to start?”

  “Tomorrow at eight.”

  “Tomorrow? But—”

  She’d ended the call.

  “Maria?”

  “Jill? That was quick.”

  “Grandma would like you to start tomorrow at eight. Is that okay?”

  “Tomorrow? Sure, I guess so.”

  “Good luck, then.”

  She was sure going to need it.

  ***

  I was beginning to have second thoughts about dragging Mrs V into this. Although not short of enthusiasm, she was clearly very nervous.

  “Talk me through it one more time, Jill, would you?”

  We were in the lounge of Mrs V’s house, and had gone through the plan at least a dozen times.

  “When he comes to the door, invite him in. He’ll want to make a quick sale, but I need you to keep him talking long enough so that I can get into his car.”

  “How will you do that if it’s locked?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I have my methods.”

  “Won’t it be dangerous? What if he sees you?”

  “He won’t. Stop worrying about me, and focus on what you’re going to say to him.”

  “I could ask to see his catalogue.”

  “We’ve already talked about that. He won’t have a catalogue, but he may have photos of the gnomes that he’s trying to sell. You need to take your time looking through them. Make out that it’s a difficult decision, and when he’s been in the house for at least five minutes, tell him you’ll need to talk to your husband when he gets home, and that you’ll get back to him later.”

  “I don’t have a husband.”

  Oh boy! “I know that, Mrs V. It’s just what you need to say to get him out of the house.”

  “Of course. Sorry, Jill, I’m just a little nervous.”

  “Try to calm down. If you look nervous when he comes, he might smell a rat and do a runner.

  “Why don’t I make us both a cup of tea? That will settle my nerves.”

  “Good idea.”

  “I have a new packet of custard creams, if you’d like one?”

  One?

  Thirty minutes and four custard creams later, we were ready to rock and roll. Mrs V was in the lounge, practising her lines. I’d left the house through the back door, cast the ‘invisible’ spell, and was now standing on the drive, waiting for our target to arrive.

  I didn’t have long to wait. Tony Tallhats may have been a lying, thieving conman, but at least he was a punctual, lying, thieving conman.

  He was ugly too. In fact, he gave ugly a bad name. Just as I’d suspected, he was a wizard. He’d obviously teamed up with a ghost, in order to fence goods that had been stolen from GT. As soon as the car pulled up in front of the house, I hurried down the drive. The plan was to duck inside the car before he had the chance to close the door. For once, good luck was on my side. After he’d stepped out of the car, he spent a few seconds straightening his creased jacket before pushing the door shut. That gave me more than enough time to sneak inside, and clamber into the back seat. All I had to do now was wait, and hope that Mrs V didn’t lose her nerve, and give the game away.

  After ten minutes, I was beginning to worry. If he’d realised that Mrs V was trying something on, and he’d hurt her in any way, I’d never forgive myself. I should never have put her in that situation. What was I thinking?

  I was just about to force my way out of the car when Mrs V’s front door opened, and Ugly stepped out. Even though I couldn’t hear what was being said, it was obvious that he was still trying to close the sale, but Mrs V was having none of it. In the end, he nodded, smiled and then walked away.

  Well done, Mrs V!

  The car journey was painful because Ugly insisted on singing along to the radio. The man was tone deaf, and didn’t know half of the lyrics; he just made them up as he went along. It came as something of a relief when he pulled up outside a large, lock-up garage.

  Fortunately, Ugly didn’t bother to lock the car door behind him, so I waited until he was in the garage, and then followed. The small window on the side of the building was ajar. The gap wasn’t wide enough for anyone to get through, unless of course they were really tiny. Cue the ‘shrink’ spell. Mini-me levitated my way through the window. Once inside, I was hidden from view behind a pile of ornamental plant pots. Even though I couldn’t see Ugly, I could hear him talking to someone.

  “Where are the rest?” Ugly demanded.

  “This is all I could get.”

  “I’ve only got three gnomes left. What do I do then? I’ve just been speaking to an old gal who’s going to call me later. She’s going to take one—maybe two. Then what am I supposed to do? I’ve got ads in all the local shops.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve found a great new source. There are dozens of them.”

  “So where are they?”

  “Keep your wig on. I got hold of two, but then a police car came down the road so I had to store them in the garden of the house across the road. I should be able to get them tonight, and a load more too, probably.”

  “You’d better. I could do with some more garden chairs, too.”

  “No worries. I’m on it.”

  Although I couldn’t see Ugly’s partner in crime, I knew he must be the ghost who was stealing garden furniture and tools, and bringing them through to the human world. From what I’d just heard, it sounded as though he’d earmarked Alberto’s garden as a prime source for garden gnomes. That gave me pause for thought. Maybe I’d be doing Mum a favour if I let this guy go, so he could clear their garden of all those stupid gnomes. No! That would be allowing my gnomist views to influence my decisions.

  I’d heard enough; it was time for action.

  Or at least it would have been if I’d had the good sense to get clear of the plant pots before reversing the ‘shrink’ spell. Instead, I tripped, and fell headfirst into a pile of deck chairs.

  “Who’s that?” Ugly shouted.

  “Hi.” I treated him to my best smile, as I disentangled myself from the deck chairs and plant pots.

  “How did you get in here?”

  “I’m not sure that matters.” Back on my feet, I dusted myself down. “What’s important, is that you two are busted.”

  “Two?” The ghost, who was clearly wearing a toupee, sounded shocked. “You can’t see me.”

  “Yeah. That’s where you’re wrong.” Before either of them had the chance to react, I cast the ‘tie-up’ spell, and bound them hand and foot.

  “Let me go!” Ugly shouted. “This is all a mistake. I didn’t know these goods were stolen.”

  “You can tell that to the rogue retrievers.”

  “What about me?” the ghost said.

  “Something tells
me you’ll both be going away for a long time.”

  Back outside the garage, I made two calls. The first to Daze; the second to Constance.

  Mission accomplished. Alberto’s gnomes were safe.

  More’s the pity.

  ***

  Angie Potts had only agreed to meet me because she was afraid I would let her mother know where she was now living. She’d insisted on meeting in a hotel on the outskirts of Chester.

  This time, I’d resisted the urge to use magic to travel, but after being stuck in traffic for almost an hour, I was beginning to regret my decision. By the time I got to the hotel, I wasn’t sure if Angie would still be waiting, or if she would have lost patience and left.

  There were only three people in the lounge bar: Two men seated at the bar, and a woman, by herself, at the far side of the room.

  “Angie?”

  “I didn’t think you were coming. I was just about to leave.”

  “Sorry. I got caught in traffic. Can I get you another drink?”

  “Yes, please. I’ll take another rum and coke.”

  I ordered her drink, and a soda water for myself.

  “Thanks.” She took a long drink. “I wish you hadn’t found me.”

  “How have you managed to stay out of sight for all these years?”

  “It was difficult at first, but it got easier. I have a new identity and a new life now. I don’t want to ruin that.”

  “Do you have a family here?”

  “No. I never married. I was engaged once, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Your mother hired me to look into your disappearance. She assumes you’re dead, but she still needs closure.”

  “You haven’t told her that you’ve found me, have you?”

  “No. I promised I wouldn’t. Why don’t you want her to know? You must realise what she’s been going through all this time. She loves you.”

  “Too little, too late.” Angie’s tone had changed; there was a much harder edge to it now. “She didn’t care when it mattered.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you met him?”

  “Him? Are you talking about your stepfather?”

  “He was no father; he was a monster.”