Pulling The Wool: A Magic Garden Mystery (Book 1) (2 page)

F
ern considered calling
Zinnia to tell her about Willie’s visit, but she got distracted at the sight of a few wilting flower stems.
That’d never do!
All the flowers that came into the shop had a small spell placed upon them, which helped their colour to brighten as well as giving them a slightly longer life. However, once the extra life had expired, Zinnia had warned Fern from the outset, never to repeat the spell again. Bound by the natural laws, they respected and never broke the protocol.

Taking out the wilting stems, she softly muttered her incantation of gratitude and then disposed of them outside.

Once again she heard the front door bell and she popped her head out from the back, a wide smile forming when she saw the visitor.

“Alana! I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.” Fern stepped forward to greet her best friend.

Alana, looking windswept, tried to pat down her long blonde hair and adjusted her glasses.

“Morning. I thought I’d stop by and hang out with you for a while whilst I plan out my next few stories.” She grinned at Fern, lowering her laptop bag to the floor. “Ummmm, smells amazing in here today! Is that jasmine I’m detecting?”

Fern laughed. “It is indeed! You’re getting better at this each week.” She linked arms with her best friend and led her to the small seating area along the side of the shop. That was one of the first things Fern had installed when she re-designed the layout of the shop. Knowing that florists’ could get very busy during peak times, it was a nice area for customers to relax and drink the complimentary drinks on offer, whilst their orders were prepared.

“So, what’s going on?” Alana reached for two coffee mugs and poured them both a cup. She took a sip and inhaled deeply. “Mmmmm…you really have the best coffee in town!”

Fern smiled at the compliment, well aware that Alana knew about her magic coffee beans. Growing up together, Alana was loosely aware about Fern’s heritage but she was never privy to detail. Witches were bound by code and ethics, which included not sharing their wisdom with non-magical folk. Thankfully Alana kept her secret and also completely respected her place.

“Lots of things have been going on. But first, tell me what’s happening with you, I could use the distraction.”

Alana looked concerned, but knowing that Fern sometimes needed time to process things, the reporter in her held back from pushing her best friend.

“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop in yesterday, but Stewart and I were deep in getting to the bottom of the strange incidents in town.”

Alana Mallory and Stewart Silversmith were the local television and radio reporters for the village of Thackery. They ran the only local evening news show together, where they concentrated on reporting crime.

The station where they worked together was in fact a public-access community project, which together, shared the building with the local public radio station. Alana and Stewart also did the morning news segment on the radio station. Unfortunately bigger news stations didn’t see the worth of having actual news in Thackery, with their proximity to bigger markets. Nonetheless, both Alana and Stewart did a fine job together of keeping the residents in the village up to date with everything.

“What happened yesterday?” Fern took a sip of her coffee as she waited for Alana’s response.

“Well, we finally discovered why the group of teenagers were acting strange in town over the weekend.”

“Ah, yes, I remember. Some of the older folk were quite scared.”

This past weekend, a group of local teenagers, displayed very odd behaviour in the middle of the day, on the high street. Shouting and pointing out objects, which weren’t to be seen, their strange act puzzled everyone, until Willie was called in to send the boys home.

“You’ll never guess what it was?”

“Tell me!”

“So eventually, one of the younger boys, finally gave in and agreed to speak to Stewart about it. Incidentally - the boys have completely returned to their normal selves and are, justifiably, quite mortified at the scene they caused.”

“So, what was it?”

“He took Stewart out into the local forest, where they found…
magic mushrooms
!”

“
What!
Magic mushrooms?”

Alana grinned, shaking her head. “Yup. The boys thought they’d try them, not knowing what they were. By the time they walked back into town, the effects of the mushrooms had taken place. Can you believe it?”

Fern started to laugh. It was ridiculous!

“That’s crazy! But I guess it explains their hallucinations and why they were insisting on seeing things in the street, which weren’t there.”

“Exactly. Also, now that we’ve uncovered the cause, we’ve had to put a sign around the area warning people about them. Of course, we also need to report our findings on this evening’s news.”

They were quiet for a moment whilst they sipped on their coffee.

“How’s Stewart doing? I haven’t seen him for a couple of days now.”

Alana and Stewart were neighbours growing up, always in and out of trouble together – now they had their own press pass to justify it. The two of them provided an excellent source of information and gossip for Fern. Stewart however had no idea about Fern’s powers, having sworn Alana to secrecy.

“Stewart…is being Stewart.” Alana laughed off her comment. “You know what he’s like - always digging around, looking for a hint of a story.”

“He seeing anyone lately?”

Alana dismissed Fern’s question with a wave of her hand. “No, he’s still single. Tells me he’s too busy to worry about relationships.”

Fern smiled politely. Stewart was charming and attractive, yet she’d never seen him with a girlfriend. Whilst she had her suspicions about that, she was too polite to ask so she changed the subject.

“Anything else just as absurd as the mushrooms?”

Alana shook her head. “No, not as absurd, but did you hear about the altercation between Jim and Ben on Saturday night?”

Fern shook her head. “No, what happened?”

“Well, let’s just put it this way. Both men had a few pints too many. After the pub shut for the night, they began an argument – neither of which can remember about what it was about – but apparently it turned a bit nasty.”

“Oh no! What happened?”

“Apparently, Ben punched Jim in the nose.”

“Oh my goodness! Was Jim okay?” Fern’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Not really. According to Jim, he was lucky his nose wasn’t broken. Anyway, he’s now demanding a formal apology from Ben on the radio.”

“And is Ben going to do it?”

Alana nodded her head. “Yes, he’s agreed to it. He actually feels very bad over the incident and has already apologised several times.”

“Wow. Busy weekend in Thackery Village.”

Alana stood up to inspect some flowers and they spoke for a few minutes about other topics. Then Fern pulled out her books, in preparation for getting them in order for Willie later on.

“What’s that you’re doing with your invoice books?”

Fern pursed her lips, her brows drawing together.

“You’ll hear about this anyway, may as well come from me.”

Alana sat forward in her seat, and pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. She put down her pen.

“What’s going on, Fern?”

“Something terrible has happened and it seems like I’m also a suspect in the case.”

“What? Tell me everything.” Alana, now in full reporter mode, was shocked to hear the words spilling from her best friend’s mouth. She had known Fern for eight years and she had never even harmed a fly.

Fern set the books down and glanced at her friend who was looking very concerned.

“I’ll start at the beginning.”

“Good.”

“Early yesterday morning, Lady Cecily discovered that three of their prize-winning sheep were dead in the paddock, so she called in the new vet, Owen Gordon, to investigate.”

“Yes, I’ve met Owen. Nice guy…strange that he’s even related to Willie considering how different they are! Anyway, what did Owen conclude?”

“Well, after investigating, he said that the sheep had died of azalea poisoning.”

“Really? How did they eat the azalea?”

“That’s just it, we don’t know. But as I stock the shrub and flowers, I’m automatically a suspect.”

“Fern, that’s terrible. What are you going to do about it? How can I help?”

Fern offered her friend a small smile. “Thanks, Alana. I’m working on it. I need to give my books to Willie so we can see who’s ordered the plants, but there are so many customers who’ve had these before, it’s going to be a big job finding the culprit.” Fern sounded depressed at the thought. “In the meantime, the sheep have been taken to a different paddock and are under strict watch from what I understand.”

“You know who immediately springs to mind as a suspect, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Matthew Barker.”

Matthew Barker, who was similar to age with Sir Chesterton, only a few years younger, was one of the local farmers. It was no secret that he was also Sir Chesterton’s primary critic and competition when it came to sheep-rearing. Matthew also appeared to have a chip on his shoulder regarding Sir Chesterton’s aristocratic background.

“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions, Alana, just because the two men don’t see eye to eye.”

Alana lent back in her seat and crossed her arms. “That’s true. But there is more to it than their husbandry rivalry.”

Fern interest was piqued and she raised an eyebrow.

“Such as?”

A smile appeared on Alana’s face. “Rumour has it that Matthew had a certain, how should I put it,
tendresse,
for Cecily in high school.”

Fern’s jaw dropped open. “No! Seriously?”

Alana nodded. “I don’t think he’s ever gotten over the fact that she chose and married Sir Chesterton instead.”

Fern shook her head. Alana really was a source of all gossip in the town. “Poor Matthew. Still, I guess he did eventually move on and marry Lucy, God rest her soul.”

Matthew’s wife, Lucy, had passed away in a car accident when their daughter, Angela, was eighteen.

“Yes, I suppose he did. But it doesn’t look good for him, does it? Has Angela been in recently?”

“No, I haven’t seen her for a while. She’s always so busy, wrapped up in farm life.”

“She’s the best farm worker Matthew’s got. At least she genuinely loves the farm and will be happy to inherit the business one day.”

A call to Alana’s mobile interrupted their conversation. She held up a finger whilst she answered.

Fern busied herself with a few tasks whilst Alana chattered away. A few minutes later, Alana hung up and quickly gathered her stuff together.

“Sorry, Fern, got to dash. Stewart just gave me a lead on another story I’m working on.” She stood up and gave Fern a departing hug. “Look, I promise I’ll keep my ear to the ground about this sheep poisoning – if Stewart or I get any inside information, we’ll pass it along to you.”

“Thanks, Alana. Please do. Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”

Alana pulled her bag over her shoulder, and adjusted her glasses as she rushed for the door.

“Definitely. We’ll speak later.”

F
ern spent
the next hour going through the books and highlighting the customers in the past six months who had bought azaleas in their various forms from The Magic Garden. Satisfied she had identified everyone, she stepped outside the front for some fresh air.

Glancing at the various flowers in their buckets and deep in thought, she almost jumped when she heard a deep voice coming from behind her. Spinning around, she came face to face with the most handsome man she’s ever seen in Thackery, who on first glance, appeared to be of similar age to her, if not a few years older. He stood in front of her with a warm smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Fern felt herself colour as she glanced down at his outstretched hand, waiting for her to shake it.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” She smiled and shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Fern. Can I help you?”

He gently released her hand and Fern noticed his pale blue eyes crinkling at the corners from his smile.

“No, you’re fine. I was just passing through and noticed the beautiful flowers you have. I’m Owen, by the way.”

Realisation quickly dawned upon her. “Oh, you’re the new vet! And Willie’s, er, I mean, Police Constable Willie’s, nephew.”

He grinned at her and Fern felt herself blushing harder for stumbling over her words.

“Yes, I am. I believe I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting your aunt Zinnia, but it’s lovely to meet the other Amesbury woman.”

Fern returned his grin. “There’s actually another one of us. My younger sister, Calla, but she’s currently travelling.”

“Well then, that’s just as well. I don’t think my heart could take seeing yet another beautiful Amesbury in two days.” He shot her a friendly wink and Fern knew that he was teasing, but she was at a loss to say anything clever in return.

“Anyway, Fern, it’s been lovely meeting you, but I must be on my way. One of farmer Jerry’s horses has gone into labour.”

“Okay, sure. Good luck! Hope everything works out with the horse. And nice to meet you too.” She watched as he walked past her, noticing his brown hair, which was just slightly too long over the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll see you around, Fern.” He turned back and smiled, leaving her with a grin on her face.

She decided that he was definitely much more amenable than his uncle!

A
fter her brief
meeting with Owen, Fern glanced at her watch, noticing it was lunchtime. She needed to check on a few things out back in the nursery, so she flipped the sign on the front door to state that she would be back in an hour. Any customer would presume she was on her lunch break. Fern also locked the door on the inside – what she was about to do could not be witnessed by anyone.

She walked through the shop and out into the back area. When she reached the far corner, she faced the wall. Taking a quick breath she recited some words softly and then looked up.

“
Libero sigillum
.”
Release the seal.

Stepping back, she watched as the brick wall parted before her, creaking and sliding across to the other side. Fern smiled at the sight before her and stepped into the bright warm sunlight. Clapping her hands in glee, she looked around at her nursery, the new flowers already blooming and basking in the heat.

“Yessss! It worked!” Fern fist-pumped the air, grinning wildly. She had consulted her Book of Shadows a hundred times and was still failing at her attempts with weather charms. Until today. Each time she had tried the sun charm, it had only lasted for a few hours, before it faded. Yesterday, she tried once again, fully expecting to see the same result today, but this was a wonderful surprise! Even better was the array of bright colours and perfume that filled her senses from the young plants, which had sprouted overnight.

Fern spun around the room, enjoying the feeling of the warmth on her skin. She let out a loud giggle – if she closed her eyes, she could very well be on a beach in the Caribbean!

Walking over to her temperature dials, she looked over the instruments, making a few notes along the way. She had thankfully set it to the optimal temperature for the seeds to germinate quickly and she recorded these for the next time.
The next time she’d do a sun charm!
She grinned at the thought because
so far, this was the hardest weather spell she had invoked. Fern felt immensely pleased with her success at last and she couldn’t
wait
to show Zinnia. Even though she had pleaded with her aunt many a time to set the sun charm, Zinnia had firmly refused, insisting that Fern needed to learn it for herself.
And now she could do it!
Leaning down and gently kissing a young tropical hibiscus, she wondered around the rest of the nursery checking on the other plants. Another day of heat would be good for them, before she’d lower the temperature slightly. It would be fantastic when the flowers would be ready to be sold in the shop – Fern was sure she’d draw customers from even further afield, once word spread about her tropical ornamentals. It would be great for attracting new business to The Magic Garden. She just had to keep her fingers crossed that her power was strong enough to set the sun charm once again.

H
appy with the
progress and feeling incredibly proud, Fern finally retreated from the nursery, stepping out and into the back room once again. She immediately missed the warmth of the sunshine. A shiver ran up her spine at the sudden drop in temperature and she sighed heavily. Closing her eyes, she reluctantly whispered the incantation and opened her eyes, facing the wall once again.

“
Signantes litteras ostium
.”
Seal the door.

Fern watched as the wall slowly creaked and moved into motion, sliding across the concrete floor. A minute later, the sun was fully blocked out as the wall resumed its original place. No trace of any movement in the wall or floor could be detected. Satisfied, she turned around. And stopped short.

Fern had been practicing her gift of reading peoples’ auras but so far, she had little success. Alana had told her she just looked plain weird as she tried to concentrate, which gave her an almost glassy look. Unfortunately, when she tried to experiment discreetly behind a pair of sunglasses, that didn’t work either as it made the colours difficult to read. But something caught her eye by her desk.

Fern slowly walked over, afraid to disturb anything. There, in front of her, as plain as day, was a bright blue, small band of vibrating energy. Fern blinked a couple of times, recognising the personal signature that didn’t belong to her. If she recalled correctly, it was Lady Pince-Wittington’s! Fern let out a gasp.
What on earth was she doing snooping around her back room
?

Tapping her fingers against the desk, Fern quickly tried to remember the last time Cecily was in here buying flowers. She always felt intimidated by the older lady, who would mostly turn her nose up at the ornamentals. Most were apparently “
too common
” for her Manor estate. Fern clicked her fingers. Of course! Cecily came in last Thursday enquiring after one of the more rare type of plant that Fern stocked. She recalled their conversation.

“
G
ood morning
, Lady Pince-Wittington. May I help you?”

Cecily Pince-Wittington had eyed Fern up and down before bothering to answer. Fern bristled but kept the smile plastered on her face.

“I’m not sure, dear. I’ve heard you stock Perovskia. Or Russian Sage as it’s more commonly known.”

“Yes, in fact I do. But I need to run out to the greenhouses out the back to check if they’re ready to go. Would you mind waiting for a few minutes?”

She looked at her watch impatiently. “Fine, dear. Just as well I have a little free time this morning.”

S
o that was it
. That was when she must have snuck into the back.
But, for what?
What was she after? When Fern had returned from the greenhouse, it now made sense why Cecily seemed so keen to leave at the time.

It was most confusing, but Fern decided to confront her as soon as she could to find out the truth.

T
he rest
of the afternoon passed slowly, but Fern had a lot of things on her mind so she didn’t mind the lack of traffic.

Just as she started proceedings for closing, she looked up and saw Angela Barker coming into the shop, dressed in her staple farm gear of wellie boots and overalls. In her early thirties, she was always pleasant with Fern.

“Hi Fern. Is it okay to grab one of your seasonal bunches before you close up?”

“Certainly, Angela. Let me wrap that up for you.” She took the selected bunch out of Angela’s hand and set to work with wrapping it in film paper. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. She looked up and smiled casually.

“So, did you have a nice weekend? Do anything nice?”

Fern noticed Angela momentarily freeze before she quickly blinked. “Er, yes, you know, just the usual.”

“You mean, you stayed at home all weekend?”

Angela looked at her quizzically. “Well, yes and no. I had a few things to do, but I was mostly around.” She glanced at her watch. “That’s fine, Fern. I’ll take them as they are.”

“I’ll only be a minute longer. I just need to grab a new roll of ribbon.”

“No. Leave it, honestly it’s fine.” Angela reached out and practically snatched the bunch of flowers out of Fern’s hand. Hastily throwing down a note, she quickly headed for the door.

“Wait! I need to give you your change.”

Angela pulled open the door and hurriedly stepped outside. “Keep it.” She called over her shoulder.

Fern looked at her fast retreating back in shock. That was very odd behaviour indeed. Fern thought she’d try and discretely find out Angela’s whereabouts over the weekend, but hadn’t expected such a cagey response. Could she have anything to do with the poisoning of the sheep?

Fern knew she’d have to dig deeper.

H
alf an hour later
, armed with her invoice books in hand, Fern crossed the road to head in the direction of the small police station, where she was going to deposit her books to Willie.

Glancing at her phone, she became distracted and felt herself bump hard against someone.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Fern looked up apologetically, into the face of Charles Pince-Wittington. Sir Chesterton and Lady Cecily’s son.

“No problem, Fern. My apologies too for not looking where I was going either. Are you alright?”

Fern offered him a smile. Just over ten years older than her, Charles very much looked like a younger version of his father.

“I’m absolutely fine, thank you.”

“Jolly good, then. Well, right-ho, I’ll be on my way, then.”

He went to step by her.

“Charles? I’m very sorry to hear about your father’s sheep.”

In the pale evening light, she noticed his lips press together and he frowned at her. “Yes. Thank you for the condolences but I can’t say they’ll be missed!”

“Oh. Why’s that?”

“I’m afraid I must go, Fern. I’m running late.”

Without another word, this time he stepped past her and briskly continued on his way.

Fern contemplated his bitter words. That was a pretty harsh thing to say about his father’s beloved sheep.

Could
he
have poisoned them?

Fern’s mind was now spinning with possibilities. She couldn’t wait to get home and discuss her suspicions with Zinnia and Essie.

Suddenly, it felt like there were a lot of plausible suspects.