I thought I couldn’t possibly be more terrified. Really, I had been through enough.
Then the worst possible thing happened.
I heard heavy footsteps.
They were coming my way.
Chapter Twenty-One
I pushed myself further against the nearest wall, then crept around behind a barrel. The flagstones were cold. I refused to think about what critters could be hovering near this hiding place, such as it was.
Hopefully, whatever was around would have better things to do than crawl on me.
As the footsteps got closer, I darted a look at the cat.
To my surprise, he was trotting in the direction of the footsteps, as if he was excited to see whoever was coming.
This was it.
Sadness and fear warred inside of me. I hadn’t even made it to the confirmation test, and already I was a goner. I had barely gotten to know my grandmother. Ethel was still a mystery, and my only sister would forever remain one. Perhaps worst of all, the Rhinestones would be kicked out of the coven forever.
I buried my head in my arms. I didn’t want to see this. The cat might be ugly, but he wasn’t stupid. Whoever was coming, he would lead that person right to me.
The footsteps kept coming and coming—until they stopped. I scrunched myself tighter even as I told myself I couldn’t possibly hide from the cat. But at least there was no point in watching. Silently I cursed the cat. If Tiger had been here he would have beat him up for me.
Unable to contain myself any longer, I peeked through my arms. All I could see was a pair of black boots standing in front of me. Between the legs of the boots was the cat.
“I can see that you found her. Thanks so much for your help. I can’t imagine that keeping an eye on her was easy,” said the man’s voice.
Shock slammed through my body. I recognized that voice.
I looked up, and at last another sensation filled my heart: relief.
“What are you doing here?” I croaked out.
“I’m the sheriff of this village. I’m not just the sheriff of parts of it; the whole thing is my territory. Therefore I don’t have to justify what I’m doing here. You, on the other hand, are missing,” he said.
“I’m clearly not missing anymore,” I said.
“Right. Because Pastrami and I found you,” he said.
“Who’s Pastrami?” I asked.
We both looked down at the cat. His oddly misshapen tail was about as scrawny as the rest of him. He waved it lazily.
I bit back whatever retort I was tempted to offer and chose to be gracious instead. I inclined my head and said, “Thank you so much for your assistance.”
The cat blinked at me a couple of times. Without so much as a by-your-leave he turned around and trotted away into the darkness. In no time at all he had vanished completely.
Now I was forced to meet the eyes of my rescuer. Quinn was looking at me with total amusement. The only trouble was, he was actually trying to rein in his laughter.
His response just made me more steamed. “What do you think is so funny?”
He shook his head at me. “Don’t mind me. Just trying to do my job. A job you’re making a lot harder.” As he said it, he shifted the package he was carrying under his arm, which was wrapped in dark brown paper.
I frowned in puzzlement. He was wearing his sheriff’s uniform all right, but maybe my being missing wasn’t the only thing that had brought him here.
“How did you know I was missing?”
“Pastrami doesn’t usually see pretty girls wandering around here at night. In fact he never does. So he got word to me immediately. He thought you were drunk. I told him you weren’t. I set him straight and said that you were just on drugs,” he said.
I made a face. “Thank you for that.”
“Any time,” he said.
His face was in shadow. If you had told me couple of weeks ago that a large man would be looming over me in a creepy back alley of a creepy part of a town I barely knew, and that I would feel comforted by his presence, I would have laughed at you. But despite the fact that I could barely see his face, even its outline against the dark sky made me feel better. Maybe it was because of the dream I’d had about him the night before the wedding.
That felt like another lifetime. Right now, in my current lifetime, I breathed a bit easier, and deeper, only to be reminded of how badly the area around us still stank.
Thinking about when I had first come upon Smoldering in a dream reminded me of my dad, and that roused the uneasiness I felt whenever I thought about him. My grandmother and I had discussed the fact that he knew where I was and that I wasn’t in danger. Still, he didn’t want me to be here, and I knew it hurt him that I had stayed. Yet here I was.
Having spaced out in worries about my dad, I was brought back to the present when a large hand appeared in from of my face. I reached up and grasped Quinn’s fingers and instantly felt a connection. The warmth of his fingers made me take in how chilly the night had become. He pulled me to my feet and studied me as I stumbled a bit. My leg had gone to sleep, and it took a few staggering paces to wake it up.
“So you have spies everywhere?” I asked.
“Not everywhere. I’ve sent several cats to your grandmother’s house over the years. They have come back with their . . . shall we say tails between their legs?” he said.
I threw my head back and laughed, and with that, Quinn started to lead me through the maze of buildings and streets. He walked with ease, and completely out in the open. I wondered if he was afraid, because it certainly didn’t seem like it.
“She sent them back?” I asked. My grandmother had a soft spot for cats. That she had denied several of them entry into her domain because she knew they were working with the sheriff was unbelievable.
“I’m pretty sure it was the cats who work for her who sent them back,” said Quinn.
“You mean Tiger?” I asked. Spunk was surely too small to be involved with policing the boundaries.
“They said something about a black and white cat making it clear that their presence was unwelcome. They said that the cat was speaking in no uncertain terms. I asked them if they were willing to go back. They said no,” he explained.
He was taking long strides, and we were already getting into a better part of town. I marveled at how lost I had managed to get in a short time.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “You can talk to cats?”
“Of course I can talk to cats. It’s a talent a lot of us have. Can’t you?” he said.
“I haven’t been able to so far. Is it something I can learn?” I said.
“If you haven’t been able to talk to them yet, it may not be an ability you possess. Never fear. There are plenty of other abilities. Besides, what cats say is usually sarcastic. I’m not sure we all need to hear it. I guess they also ask for cheese pretty often,” he said thoughtfully.
“I’m not sure I always need to talk to them to know what they’re going to say. Cats are wonderfully expressive,” I said.
“They are that,” he agreed.
We were now in a better lit part of town with other supernaturals around, so I no longer felt like I was about to be attacked. Quinn clearly relaxed as well. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and started to stroll along at a more leisurely pace. As we walked, he glanced up at the sky.
“It’s a beautiful night. I can see how you got distracted and wandered into the cemetery,” he said.
I glanced at him to see if he was making fun of me, and indeed, he looked like he was only half serious. Given that it was the truth, I didn’t think I could really argue with him.
“I’m definitely going to pay better attention next time,” I said.
We were nearly to the trolley stop. “Aren’t you going to ask me questions about my sister? Are you surprised that I’m not with her?”
He sighed. “If I were a different sort of investigator, I might think you were in the Bleak Area to see her. Maybe that’s
where she’s hiding. It would certainly explain why we haven’t found her.”
I made a sort of shocked and disgruntled noise halfway between a grunt and croak.
“I’m not that sort of investigator, though,” he went on. “I’m the sort investigator who just thinks you got lost and made me come out for nice stroll. There’s plenty of time to discuss your sister tomorrow.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be able to tell you about as much as I’ve told you already. I didn’t even know I had a sister until I came here,” I said.
It wasn’t until we reached this point that I realized that his limp was less pronounced than it had been. Maybe it was because he was relaxed, but then I had to think about the fact that he was relaxed with me.
“Like I said, tonight isn’t the night. Will you be all right from here?” he asked.
I frowned. Somehow I had thought he’d be coming with me all the way to the house. Why I thought that I couldn’t even have said. I was no longer in danger, though, so I told him I’d be just fine. He smiled and nodded.
The trolley was coming, so I said goodbye and thanked him one more time for saving me.
“I didn’t do much. It was definitely Pastrami. He kept trying to talk to you and tell you how to get out of there. You kept ignoring him. I don’t think he took it personally. I’ll be sure to tell him that you can’t hear him,” he said.
“Thank him again for me too, then,” I said.
When I got on the trolley I turned in my seat to see him still standing there. I watched for as long as he was in view. He never walked away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The rest of the week was a blur, with only a couple events of note.
The first happened at home. After investigating Jonathan’s office, I tried to think of other ways to find out more about the vampire who’d been killed. To that end, I continued my new habit of snooping.
My grandmother had her own study. One afternoon, finding myself alone in the house, I cautiously let myself in. Bethel had taken Lucy and Lowe was visiting Lisa, so I had the place to myself. Even Tiger was out in the field keeping an eye on the unicorns.
I didn’t see any important notes or papers at first. Then I noticed several file cabinets lined up unobtrusively in one corner of the room. Feeling victorious, I went over and tried to open one.
It didn’t budge. In the end, I tried them all, and every single file drawer was locked.
I reminded myself that my grandmother had probably protected the cabinets with spells to detect any attempt to open them using magic, so I didn’t even try. Instead I went to her desk.
From the desk Bethel would have a clear view of the unicorns, but that wasn’t what interested me. What interested me was the stack of papers she had left lying in the open.
They were newspaper clippings, and they included an obituary.
Jonathan Quickgrace was murdered this past year by Ethel Rhinestone, one of the Rhinestone witches of Misdirect Lane.
He did not deserve his fate. The family of Jonathan mourns a kind young vampire who was loved by all. He had a glorious life before him when he was horribly killed. We comfort ourselves in the knowledge that he had already accomplished so much, but we know in our hearts that the only true comfort would be to see his killer, Ethel Rhinestone, brought to justice.
Jonathan was the director of the dance hall. His interests were wide and varied. He had a watch collection, loved blue diamonds, and collected vampire fang teeth in his spare time.
I was so shocked that I sat back hard in Bethel’s desk chair. I could barely move. The whole obituary was an accusation directed at my sister; obviously Jonathan’s family believed the easy explanation for his death and was furious with her.
On the one hand, I couldn’t blame them. On the other, I knew that my sister was innocent. The only way to prove that was to discover the real killer. I had a difficult task ahead of me, not even counting the debutant competition.
How I was going to solve the mystery I had no idea, but at least I had learned a bit more about Jonathan from the obituary, and also something about his parents.
His parents were going to pursue Ethel until she was caught. Unfortunately, they had the town on their side, since the sheriff clearly believed that Ethel was guilty. Maybe she shouldn’t have run, but with an obituary like that, what choice had she had?
I quickly put the obituary back where it had been hidden; I didn’t want my grandmother to discover my snooping. The fact that she had kept it at all spoke to how angry she was.
There were several other clippings in the stack, and I looked through them slowly. At first I didn’t think they had anything to do with each other. They seemed to be random stories of weird nights and arrests.
As I looked through them, though, I started to see a pattern. One of the articles stated that a group of hooligans had run off with several paranormals’ purses. Another stated that a werewolf had been mugged. There were several other strange stories, in each of which someone who was being interviewed described that they had seen either a strange dark light in the sky or a hooded figure. All the events were stated to have taken place near the Bleak Area.
The articles covered months. There was nothing else connecting the stories, but in each case, the person who had described strange events was discounted as being wrong. Maybe they’d had too much Fermented Fairy Flame, the best selling alcoholic drink in town. Maybe the light had been playing tricks with their eyes. The bottom line was that there was no way a dark streak could be seen in the sky and then disappear so quickly.
Why my grandmother had saved these articles along with the obituary, I had no idea.
Something very strange was happening in Twinkleford. I might not know what it was, but I knew that I was in the middle of it.
The only other bit of adventure that week came during classes. We met our other teachers, my favorite of whom was a vampire who liked to use the crystal balls. He was the most famous reader in the world, or at least that’s what he and Ms. Mallon told us. He said that crystal ball use was a critical aspect of living in the supernatural world. He thought that readers should be more respected.
He was named France, and he was jolly and yet no-nonsense. I liked him as well. By the end of the week it was most definitely my favorite class.
The cauldrons teacher was named Mr. Burger. He was a very short paranormal who looked the part of a teacher. He wore a moth-eaten sweater, baggy pants, and glasses. He was dull as could be and a relief after the judgmental Ms. Mallon.
The weekend was a relief when it finally came. Exhaustion had seeped into my bones. I had been so occupied and so tired that I hadn’t even had a chance to look at the little trinket box I had “borrowed” from Jonathan’s office.
“It continues to amaze me that the newspaper doesn’t have any of this news in it,” I said to Bethel, who had the paper spread out in front of her.
The lead article discussed the fresh planting of daisies around the downtown common. There was no mention of murder.
“The editor likes to pretend everything’s fine,” said Lowe. “And he’s in the back pocket of the Carlisles. That Carlisle witch won’t let any news like that slip through.”
“What does she think would happen if it did?” I asked.
“There had never been a murder here until Jonathan. She would think it would lead others to question her authority,” my cousin explained.
“There was an explosion that killed an awful lot of people,” I said quietly.
Lowe nodded. “That was ruled an accident.”
“That’s ridiculous. Nobody thinks that was an accident,” I sputtered.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Later that morning the three of us made our way to the farmers market to sell vegetables and the bunches of flowers that Lowe had also arranged. I helped carry our wares to the town square.
Despite the early hour, the market was already bustling. The stalls had been set up in what was known as the new town square, the ol
d one being a horrible pile of burnt earth. I found myself looking around for Quinn. Something told me he’d be there, but on a first glance around the market I didn’t see him, and I soon lost myself in helping set up.
The farmers market seemed to be the great equalizer of the supernatural types. Whereas until now many other villagers had avoided my grandmother, today they came up to her readily. They wanted to buy lettuce and tomatoes as well as window crystals with unicorn dung. Bethel also apparently had the best celery.
Because the market was so busy, all three of us had to concentrate on selling. Lowe sold two of her beautiful flower arrangements right away. It was the first time she had attempted anything like that, and she was delighted by her success.
Not long into the morning I saw Kelly. Her family made woven goods and sold them at a stall. Unsurprisingly, she stayed in the background and ran no risk of having to speak with anyone. I stared at her until she made eye contact, but it took so long I thought I’d have to give up. In the end she issued a tentative wave.
I was just about to say something when a man bustled up to our stall, a woman right behind him. He was clearly a vampire, and the woman appeared to be trying to restrain him.
He looked ready for a fight.
“Bethel! Do not ignore me. Have you found your murderous granddaughter yet?” he demanded.
My grandmother spun around. It was the first time all morning I had seen her flustered. Lowe gasped. The woman continued to try to rein in the vampire.
“I’ve already told you, Mulligan, I’m sorry for your loss. We can’t judge Ethel until we know what happened. I believe my granddaughter is innocent. We must let the sheriffs do their work,” Bethel said.
Her words only seemed to enrage the vampire further. “We don’t have to do any such thing. My son died. I will have justice.”
“We all want justice, and to get to the truth,” said my grandmother.
“You really must stop this,” the woman hissed at him. Now I saw that they wore wedding rings with matching rubies.
Pointy Hats and Witchy Cats Page 13
