Wands Have More Fun

by Rebecca Regnier

  “Her health is more important than any crown,” Abbie Grubb chided me.

  “Of course, I just meant it wasn’t a done deal if she did continue.”

  Abbie looked at me with a hint of disapproval and then went off, presumably to let everyone know what a monster I was.

  The second act opened with a rousing performance of Tie a Yellow Ribbon. Phony Orlando even brought on backup singers, but we were informed they weren’t Dawn, as in Tony Orlando and Dawn. They were Phony Orlando’s two daughters so, honestly, the act we were now witnessing was Phony Orlando and Spawn. Because, of course, it was.

  Ever helpful Abbie Grubb had restocked our judge’s table with fresh water at each of our spots. I took a small sip and settled in for the next round.

  The talent portion of the competition concluded with Christopher Pratt (not that one) knocking us dead with a joke he hadn’t told before. A treat, no question.

  He put his hand to his brow, as though he was looking at something in the distance.

  “Those trees, I just don’t trust them.”

  “Why don’t you trust the trees?” came his mother’s response from the audience.

  “Because they’re shady!” The kid got a rim shot and a lot of laughs from the room. He was good with the groaner, I guess.

  The interview portion began. Each contestant explained their main area of service, what they did for our fair community. When I was their tender age, service was the last thing on my mind. I couldn’t have wiped their boots!

  The contestants all described how they volunteered or raised awareness or did 5Ks to raise money.

  It was a slower, quieter section of the show. The craziness of the previous days started to catch up to me. I struggled to find a comfortable place to sit, and heat rose behind my eyes. Man, was I coming down with something? I never got sick.

  A dry ticklish cough irritated the back of my throat. I tried to clear it, but I started coughing. I was embarrassed. I didn’t want my cough to interrupt the interviews. Phony Orlando even looked down at me when my slight tickle turned into a hacking.

  “Maybe you should drink some more water or something. You’re interrupting the pageant,” Ridge hissed at me.

  He was right. If this didn’t stop, I’d have to excuse myself. But then what? How did the absence of a judge during a portion of the show impact the giant book of rules?

  I reached out for my water again and then stopped. There was a smell, what was it?

  “Do you smell that?” I asked Mayor Fisk.

  “It’s garlic,” he said it offhandedly and returned his attention to the stage and the contestants. I was having trouble swallowing.

  Garlic?

  I put the glass to my lips, and it was slapped out of my hands.

  It was Georgianne. She’d swatted the glass forward, and it smashed up against the apron of the stage.

  “What the?”

  “I think it’s time we had a quick intermission!” Pauline had commandeered the mic from Phony Orlando, who was as confused as I was.

  “Come on, we need a moment,” Georgianne said and helped me and my full-blown hacking cough out of the auditorium and into a corner of the dressing room area.

  “Get over here, she needs to be checked out.” Georgianne ordered the EMT who’d helped Sofia over to me.

  “I don’t—I’m okay. I don’t know what happened.”

  The EMT insisted on looking me over.

  “I need a drink of water, and I’ll be okay.”

  The EMT looked at Georgianne. “I do think she’s okay.”

  Georgianne didn’t believe it.

  “I am,” I assured her. “I don’t know what came over me, but I’m better.” And I was. The heat behind my eyes had subsided. The EMT handed me a little water bottle, and I sipped slowly from it. My throat needed the moisture was all. I was better.

  “Her pulse is a little high though,” the EMT told Georgianne.

  “It was the excitement of someone slapping a water glass out of my hand. You nearly gave me a heart attack. What the heck?”

  Georgianne turned to the EMT, “Is she really okay?”

  He looked at me again.

  “I am!”

  “Fine, can you give us a minute?” Georgianne asked the EMT, and he complied. I suspect he never thought he’d be this busy at a beauty pageant.

  “What the heck is going on with you?” I asked her. I was feeling more and more myself as the forced intermission continued. I felt the pressure of the clock, knowing that Pauline had to be freaking out thanks to this delay.

  “Look, I’ve been pre-occupied with that wand list. It isn’t right.”

  “What? This isn’t really the time for this.”

  “Hear me out. I was studying it, trying to figure out why there were seven new wands on the list, and we only made six.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And AS I was staring at the thing, someone used it. Twice.”

  “For what purpose, can you tell?”

  Georgianne showed me the list.

  “The owner of this wand can change matter from one thing to another. I asked Maxine about it and she showed me how we could line up dates. And the location. The last time this mystery wand was used was the day of Miss Florine’s murder.”

  I let that sink in. I thought back to the murder scene.

  “They arrested and charged her daughter. Do you think the daughter has a rouge wand?”

  “If she did, they wouldn’t have let her use it from her jail cell. Just don’t drink anything that’s not from this guy.” Georgianne pointed to the EMT he smiled and nodded. Wow, he was cute. I realized he was probably from the new shifter firefighter recruits. Non-Yooper Naturals were just not that cute.

  “Yes, okay. Can you go get my wand for me? My area of power is to root out and block dark magic.”

  “Yep, on it. I’ll also alert the DLC to be on guard. I think the murder of Miss Florine isn’t what the cops thought. Be careful.”

  “You too.”

  I had a pageant to judge. I sat back down at the judge’s table. I had one eye on the stage and another on alert for someone who may have wanted Miss Florine and me, dead.

  The smell of garlic meant something too, I just couldn’t put my finger on what.

  Chapter 17

  The interview portion resumed. Tiffany Grubb talked about her area of interest, how she knitted blankets for the assisted living facility. It was sweet, and she performed well, much better than when she’d tried to explain it at the preliminary. On my scorecard at least, it was very tight.

  The dramatic question was in the air: would Sofia be okay to continue on in the competition?

  Before the question was answered, Georgianne appeared by my side again, scrunched down, so as not to obstruct the view for the audience. She placed a little silk purse at my feet. I slid my hand down and found my new wand.

  In a short space of time, my wand and broom had become as valuable to me as my smartphone.

  Phony Orlando was speaking, “And we’re happy to finish off the interview portion of the pageant with Sofia Fisher! She is on crutches, but she’s a real trooper.”

  I slid the wand out. I hoped it was dark enough that no one would see. I thought of the rules Maxine and Aunt Dorothy had shared. Half strength or less to use this wand. I settled my mind as Sofia began to describe her mission with assistance dogs.

  I lightly gripped my wand. And the word came into my mind. I calmed my mind. I relaxed my body, and I whispered it quietly.

  I wanted the wand to feel this as a mild suggestion, not a command for exploding disaster.

  “Praesidio,” I whispered and pointed it at Sofia.

  She continued on with her interview, nothing I did appeared to affect her. That was good, maybe there was no dark magic around her.

  “And I want to dedicate this performance to Miss Florine. We all learned so much from her, and she will be missed.” The hall erupted in applause for the girl’s pluck and her sweet d
etermination to make it about someone else.

  Just above the applause, I heard a scream. And I knew, without a doubt, that my wand had done something. It had hit a mark. I just didn’t know who or what that mark was. I leaped up and ran to the source.

  “Drop the curtain!” I heard Pauline commanding. The applause was still underway. As far as the audience was concerned, I hoped they were unaware. But perception didn’t stop me. I had wielded a protection spell. I knew someone was after Sofia.

  A spell had changed the floor; it was why she fell. And a spell had come after me because I had expressed my opinion that Sofia was still in this competition, despite the fall.

  I was not surprised to find Abbie Grubb slammed up against the corner of a backstage wall. She was the source of the screaming.

  My protection spell was not aimed at her, it was aimed at Sofia. And to protect Sofia, the spell had stopped Abbie Grubb. She was up against the wall, struggling as something invisible held her arms to it.

  “Mommy! What’s wrong?” I looked up to see, in Abbie’s immobile arm, a wand. I walked forward and put a gentle hand on Tiffany.

  “Honey, I’ll take care of her. You’re wanted for the final number.” I didn’t know if she was going to do as I said. But the instruction to do well on stage was the overriding lesson she’d been taught by her mother, and by Miss Florine. Tiffany turned away from her mother.

  Then she paused and looked up at me.

  “It was okay that Sofia was Miss Florine’s favorite. It didn’t bother me, at all. But...” She looked back at her mother and let the sentence trail off.

  It did bother Abbie Grubb that Sofia Fisher was the favorite and that she might win this pageant.

  “It bothered you enough to kill Miss Florine because she was a judge in this thing, didn’t it?” I said it to her quietly, but I kept my eyes on her as well. She was dangerous, and I knew now she couldn’t be trusted.

  Abbie lifted her wand; my spell was complete. The protection I’d sought to give Sofia was no longer needed because the attack was now coming square at me. She wriggled free from the wall. Her eyes were wild.

  “She deserves the crown. This pageant would have been completely biased with that woman at the judge’s table.” Abbie Grubb was trying to salvage whatever she could from the situation.

  “Where did you get that wand?”

  That was the real mystery. Abbie Grubb wasn’t in the DLC and for just this reason. She was too young; her daughter was still home, her life still wrapped up in every aspect of her child’s accomplishments. That was precisely why the powers of the Widow’s Bay witches appeared later after the children had moved from the spotlight of our worlds. The temptation was too great to use everything you could to help your kids. A witch with full powers and a younger child could be catastrophic.

  The DLC had even dabbled in football playoff championships before I’d returned to town. Luckily, their magic didn’t include harm, only favorable weather conditions, and the occasional healing. It hadn’t turned dark.

  “My mother told me about it. She told me about everything before she died. She told me where to get it and how to make it. I was young, but I learned!”

  She lifted her wand and pointed at me.

  “You need to stop, this isn’t helping your daughter,” I said. And I felt sorry for her, even though she’d murdered Miss Florine, sabotaged Sofia, and nearly poisoned me. She was doing it out of a twisted Mama Bear instinct. It wasn’t too far a leap for most moms to understand how wanting the best for you children could mutate into wanting the worst for anyone who got in the way of that.

  She pointed the wand from me to the floor and said, “Glacies.”

  I stepped back and felt my feet slide from underneath me. The floor had turned to ice where I stood. Just like it had been for Sofia during her performance. I fell, I scrambled to get up, but it was useless.

  My spill gave Abbie time to run, and she did, around me, and the mini-ice patch.

  “Ugh.” I was about to summon help from my Sister Witches when I saw Pauline, with her arm out. Her buff as heck arm out. She grabbed Abbie by the scruff of her collar, the rogue wand went flying, and Pauline had Abbie up against the wall in a matter of seconds.

  “No one messes with my pageant contestants or judges, it’s in the rule book,” she said calmly. From out of nowhere, DeLoof and a group of sheriff’s deputies appeared.

  Had someone called the police? Georgianne?

  They took over for Pauline, who smoothed her evening gown and walked over to me.

  Abbie Grubb was now spilling her guts, her plans and evil deeds coming out in a flood of rage and justification.

  “Miss Florine did not deserve to be a judge of anyone. She was cruel and biased and deserved what she got! Let me go!”

  It sounded a lot like a confession to me.

  DeLoof’s patrolmen slapped the cuffs on her, and she continued to rattle off a litany of crimes, the right to remain silent being a right she didn’t feel the need to use.

  “Tiffany is a better dancer. She should win on that alone. Did you see Sofia fall? She ruined her chances right there. And her, she’s just as biased!” Abbie Grubb pointed to me. But her accusations—nay confessions—faded as the police officers guided her out the stage door. Pauline and I stared, in shock, at the scene we’d just witnessed.

  We held hands for a second. Everything moved so fast, it felt like I had whiplash.

  Pauline had saved the day, in my opinion, with her upper body strength!

  “Are you okay? That was pretty darned impressive.”

  “You know, I’m always telling you to add free weights to your workouts. They really work.”

  Pauline flexed her perfect bicep and then she reached out to DeLoof.

  “Detective. We need to finish the pageant, so can you hang on just a minute for your statements or whatever?”

  “My judges’ card is out there, all filled out.” I pointed back to the judge’s table.

  “Oh good, I’ll need you back in your spot in ten minutes. The winners will be tabulated by then.”

  I nodded. That the pageant would still go on wasn’t an option for Pauline. DeLoof didn’t so much as let Pauline do what she wanted as get out of Pauline’s way.

  I stepped over to where DeLoof had nearly stepped on Abbie Grubb’s wand. I picked it up. A rouge wand was a terrible thing, it appeared.

  “How did you know to get here?” I had the benefit of wands and a magical assist with this murder story. Loof, for all I knew, was as straight as they came.

  “Miss Florine’s daughter’s pretty persistent. She withstood a lot of interrogation, wouldn’t confess but she is talking. She started pointing the finger at all the moms, every mom, who had a daughter in the school.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, it’s a real snake pit. We were going down the list, and Abbie Grubb kept popping up. Tiffany’s math teacher was injured last year when a shelf fell on her after she and Abbie had a dispute over a grade. Tiffany’s dad disappeared after a camping trip, and several similar coincidences led us to believe Abbie Grubb might be worth looking at.”

  “I guess so.”

  “I wasn’t really here to arrest her, just ask a few questions, but you can see how that turned out.”

  “Can I report that for Your U.P. News?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be charging her and letting Babette go.”

  “Thanks.”

  DeLoof hustled out. The rest of the witches, sans Pauline, who was back to work, gathered backstage, led by Georgianne.

  “You okay?” Fawn asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  They hugged me.

  “We’re all here, but it looked like you just needed Pauline,” said Georgianne.

  “Yeah, did you see that? She’s the buff arm of the law,” I replied.

  “We better get out to our seats, or she’ll be Hulking Out on us,” Tatum said.

  “Abbie Grubb, huh? Wow, do not mess with a pageant mom,
” Candy remarked.

  “Yeah, or a football mom,” Fawn added.

  We turned and head back out to the auditorium. The final moments of the pageant were underway. It was anti-climatic after what had happened backstage.

  “The winner of the Inaugural Miss (or Mister) Vernal Equinox Pageant is, uh…well, make that Mister Vernal Equinox! Christopher Pratt!”

  The auditorium erupted in applause. Apparently, the jokes had swayed the other judges, and Christopher Pratt (not that one) was crowned. Pauline beamed and even the first runner up, Sofia Fisher, seemed happy for Mister Vernal Equinox.

  The Coven Quorum and I walked out of the rapidly emptying auditorium together.

  “All that work to get rid of judges and her rival and it turned out that comedian kid ran the table,” Georgianne said.

  “I know, right? My money was on Sofia but shows why I don’t gamble. I was a judge, and I still couldn’t pick a winner.”

  “I think Pauline pulled it off. Tourists and locals loved the thing,” Candy said.

  “Another murderer apprehended pretty good day’s work. Now we just have to solve our moose problem,” Tatum added.

  It was true, good, and something we’d handle after we all got a few hours of sleep or a few dozen hours of sleep.

  Chapter 18

  I did several stories about the murder arrest. They were light on details, other than that police suspected Abbie Grubb of poisoning Miss Florine. Abbie’s computer had evidence that she’d done internet searches on arsenic. Even though the murder weapon, the actual arsenic, was never found. I knew the truth. I knew that she’d turned Miss Florine’s drink from coffee to arsenic, and back. Just like she’d tried to do with my water.

  The only trail she’d left behind was the smell. Arsenic gave off a faint smell of garlic, and she hadn’t known or didn’t think to disguise that. Loof had smelled it at the scene of the crime and then I smelled it at the pageant.

  I wrote several reports about the pageant as well. Meanwhile, Man Cave Dot Com’s Yooperman also did several stories about the pageant disasters.