Read Witch Is When Things Fell Apart Online

Authors: Adele Abbott

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Animals, #Crafts & Hobbies, #Supernatural, #Ghosts, #Witches & Wizards, #Women Sleuths

Witch Is When Things Fell Apart (16 page)

BOOK: Witch Is When Things Fell Apart
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Chapter 17

 

“Morning,” I said, as I walked into Cuppy C.

“Morning.” Amber smiled nervously. “If it’s about the microwave. It was Pearl’s fault.”

“It wasn’t my fault.” Pearl had seen me arrive, and had walked through from the cake counter. “You were the one who wanted bread for a sandwich!”

“You forgot it was in there!”

“I wasn’t the one who wanted a sandwich.”

“Girls, girls! Forget about it. It’s all sorted now.”

I hadn’t been quite so relaxed about it when I’d got home to discover that my kitchen smelled of charcoal. The twins had put bread from my freezer in the microwave to thaw it, but had then forgotten all about it. It had taken two cans of air freshener to get rid of the smell, and I’d had to throw out the old microwave. I might have been more annoyed, but it had been on its last legs anyway.

“We’re sorry about that other thing too.” Pearl handed me the coffee. “At the club.”

“Yeah, we’re really sorry.” Amber refused my payment. “This is on the house. It’s the least we can do.”

The three of us sat at our usual window table. “It’s no excuse,” Amber said. “But we were a little drunk.”

“No kidding.” I laughed. “Still, it was your birthday.”

“Even so, we shouldn’t have used magic like that. We could be in real trouble if anyone ever finds out.”

“They won’t hear it from me, and I don’t think you have to worry about the other people in the club. Most of them were drunk too. By the next morning, they probably thought it had all been some drunken dream.”

Cuppy C was quieter than usual. The only other customers were two vampires who were tucking into chocolate muffins.

“It’s quiet in here this morning,” I remarked.

“It was busier earlier,” Pearl said. “The morning rush is over now. It’ll pick up again in an hour or two.”

“It will if you haven’t scared them all off.” Amber glared at her sister.

“Don’t start that again!” Pearl glared back.

Here we go again.


She
tried to poison the customers.” Amber pointed an accusing finger at Pearl.

“Don’t listen to her. There was nothing wrong with those cupcakes.”

Amber began to laugh hysterically. “Nothing wrong? Apart from the shape, colour and taste you mean?” She took her phone out of her pocket, pulled up an image, and handed the phone to me. “Have you ever seen anything quite like that?”

I hadn’t. If it was a cupcake, it was like none I’d ever seen before. It was kind of cube shaped and sort of dark blue with grey specks.

“See what I mean?” Amber wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “And it tasted like—”

“At least I tried.” Pearl’s face was red with rage. “What do you ever do?”

“Not poison the customers, for a start.”

“I didn’t poison anyone.”

“Jimmy Logan bought one. I haven’t seen him since. Mrs Perry bought one. I haven’t seen her since either.”

“That’s just a coincidence,” Pearl said, with very little conviction.

“How come you baked cakes for the shop? I thought you always bought them in.”

Pearl was still looking daggers at her sister. “With the problem we’re having with Christy’s, I thought it would be better if we weren’t so dependent on outside suppliers. I thought if we could bake our own—”

“That you could kill off all our customers!” Amber laughed and then ducked just in time to avoid the muffin which Pearl had launched at her head.
My
muffin.

“Sorry, Jill. I’ll get you another one,” Pearl said. “She just makes me so angry.”

“It’s okay. I probably shouldn’t have ordered it anyway.” I took hold of their hands. “Look you two. This business will only succeed if you work together.”

“It’s her!” Pearl said.

“I’m not the one poisoning the customers!”

“Enough! One more word and I’ll tell everyone what happened in the club.”

Suddenly they were both focussed on me.

“You wouldn’t?”

“You promised.”

“If you don’t stop all this silly squabbling and start to work together, I will tell. Understand?”

They both nodded.

“Do you promise?”

They were still glaring at one another, but nodded.

“I need to hear you say it. Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Me too.”

“Good. That’s settled then.”

I brought the twins up-to-date on my investigation into the Christy Bakery. Not that there was much to tell. My only lead was Eddie Lingard. Something about his dismissal still didn’t ring true.

“Hello you two!” a male voice from behind me said.

The look of horror on the twins’ faces should have tipped me off, but I didn’t recognise the voice at first.

“Miles?” Amber said.

“Miles?” Pearl echoed.

“Hello, Miles.” I was the only one to greet him with a smile. “You probably don’t remember me. We met outside the school reunion.”

“Err—oh yes.”

He obviously had no idea who I was, and had eyes only for the twins.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said. “It’s a pity you both had to rush off the other night.”

“That
was
a pity,” I said, as I stood up. “I have to be going. Miles, why don’t you take my seat. I’m sure you and the girls have
lots
to catch up on.”

Amber and Pearl glared at me. If looks could kill.

I was still sniggering to myself five minutes after leaving Cuppy C. The look on the twins’ faces when they saw Miles had been priceless.

“What are you looking so pleased with yourself about?”

The sound of her voice instantly pulled me out of my good mood.

“Grandma? I didn’t see you there.”

“Hardly surprising if you walk around with your head in the clouds. What’s amusing you?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Do you usually laugh at nothing?”

“All the time.”

“Sometimes I worry about you, young lady.”

Somehow I doubted that.

“I trust you are putting in plenty of practice for the Levels?”

“Every spare minute.”

“My reputation is at stake. I won’t be pleased if you let me down.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Hmm. I suppose that will have to do.”

“I’d better make tracks.”

“Wait. You’re supposed to be a private investigator aren’t you?”

“I’m not
supposed to be
. I
am
.”

“Well then. What’s wrong with Lucy?”

“What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t seem herself. I’m not sure what it is. Like this morning, I insulted her porridge, and she just let it go. Normally, she’d have given as good as she got.”

I knew what Grandma meant. Aunt Lucy had seemed a little subdued recently, and I thought I knew why, but I wasn’t about to tell Grandma.

“So, it’s Fester,” Grandma said.

When would I learn she could read my mind at will?

“His name is Lester.”

“Fester, that’s what I said. Has he done something to upset her? If he has, I’ll turn him into the rat he is.”

“No! No need for that. I don’t think he’s done anything, he just hasn’t been around. I’m not sure even Aunt Lucy knows why.”

“Or a cockroach.”

“You mustn’t turn him into anything. At least not until we know what’s going on.”

“Well then, Miss Investigator, you’d better go do some investigating. And if you find out he’s been messing Lucy around, just you let me know. Got it?”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

She gave me a look.

“I mean. Yes, Grandma. I’ll get straight on it.”

 

Well maybe not
straight
on it. First I had an appointment with Annie Christy, the bakery owner’s daughter. She’d called me the day before to ask if I’d meet with her away from the bakery, and had specifically requested that I didn’t mention our meeting to her mother.

We met at ‘In a Jam’, a small tea room close to the bakery. The tea room, which was obviously a competitor of Cuppy C, was even quieter than the twins’ shop. Annie Christy and I were the only customers. I’d met Annie before at her mother’s house, but only briefly. She had the air of a young professional.

“I work for SupAid,” she said. “It’s a charity. We provide financial and other aid to sups that have lost their powers.”

“Does that happen?”

“Not often, fortunately, but yes. Witches can lose their magical powers. Werewolves can lose the power to transform into wolves.”

“What about vampires?”

“They can lose their teeth.”

I must have looked puzzled because she laughed.

“I’m joking. With vampires, the issue is usually that they can no longer get the nutrients they need from blood. Whatever the problem, SupAid steps in to help.”

“And what’s your role?”

“I’m their official spokesperson. So mainly PR.”

I took a bite of my blueberry muffin. What? Why shouldn’t I have another? The one I had in Cuppy C had been thrown across the shop after I’d taken only one bite out of it. “This tastes like one of your mother’s.”

Annie smiled. “She’d be pleased you can tell. Yes, Mum’s bakery supplies most of the cake shops and tea rooms in this part of Candlefield.”

“It’s delicious,” I said through a mouthful of muffin. “Why did you want to see me?”

“I’m a little worried about the recent incidents. I wondered how your investigation was coming along.”

“Why not ask your mother?”

“I’ve tried, but she gets awfully upset every time the subject is raised.”

“I haven’t made much progress to be honest, but there are still a few leads I need to follow up on.”

“My main concern is that it may affect the sale of the business.”

“It’s for sale?”

“Didn’t Mum tell you? I’ve already found a potential buyer, but I’m worried the recent incidents might put him off.”

“Your mother never mentioned she was intending to sell the bakery.”

“She isn’t getting any younger, and I’m worried that she’ll work herself into an early grave before she has a chance to enjoy her retirement. That’s why I persuaded her to sell.”

“I see.”

I think I managed to satisfy Annie that I was doing all I could to get to the bottom of the damaged cakes mystery, and I promised to keep her, as well as her mother, updated on my investigation. I came away with the impression that she was genuinely concerned for her mother’s well-being, but I was also a little curious as to why Beryl Christy had never once mentioned the potential sale.

 

Back in Washbridge, I was about to cross the road to my offices when I spotted Gordon Armitage standing outside the building next door. He checked his watch and looked left and right along the street as though he was waiting for someone.

The light at the crossing turned green just as I spotted Zak Whiteside, the landlord of my building. I’d only met with him once when I took over the lease after my father’s death. Once seen, never forgotten, Zak Whiteside had the worst fitting toupee I’d ever seen. I could only assume that he’d bought it second-hand, and that it had originally been made for a man with a head three sizes smaller than his. It looked more like a cap resting on the top of his head. Still, it had great comedic value. Armitage had obviously been waiting for the landlord because he greeted him with a warm smile and a firm handshake. Even from this distance, I noticed Armitage’s gaze drift up to Zak’s toupee. Credit to Armitage, he somehow managed to keep a straight face.

I crossed the road, and stood outside the door to my offices. Armitage and Zak Whiteside were walking my way, and it didn’t take a genius to guess why.

 

Chapter 18

 

I ran up the stairs as fast as my legs would carry me, and yelled, “Quick!”

Poor old Mrs V almost jumped out of her skin. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to take down this line now.”

“But, I’ve nowhere else to put the socks.”

“Sorry, but the landlord is on his way up. He’s not going to be very impressed if he gets strangled by a washing line full of socks as soon as he walks through the door.”

“Okay.” Mrs V was on her feet. “I’m on it.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” Winky yelled at me when I snatched the remote control from him. “The helicopter will crash.”

“Tough!” I slammed the window closed, grabbed Winky and pushed him under the leather sofa. “Stay there and don’t move!”

“Who do you think you are?” Winky was already back out from under the sofa. “Give me the remote back!”

This was never going to work. The chances of Winky staying hidden were less than zero.

I heard voices in the outer office.

 

Mrs V opened the door. Standing behind her were Gordon Armitage and Zak Whiteside.

“Hello, gentlemen.” I had to force myself not to look at Zak’s toupee. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

Zak led Armitage inside my office. “Nice to see you again, Jill. You know Gordon Armitage?”

“Yes, we’ve met.”

“Mr Armitage has made a report which I felt I had to investigate. I’m sure you understand.”

“What kind of report?” As if I didn’t know.

“Mr Armitage says that you are keeping a cat in the office.”

“A cat?” I looked suitably shocked. “But, surely animals aren’t allowed?”

I glanced at Armitage whose eyes were darting left and right in an attempt to spot Winky.

Meanwhile, the cat in question was scratching the back of my legs. I’d cast the ‘hide’ spell on him just before the two men walked into my office, so they couldn’t see him. He was one angry cat, not least because his precious helicopter had almost certainly plunged to its destruction. I shook my leg to knock him off.

“Are you okay?” Zak said when he saw my leg twitch.

“Fine. Just a bit of cramp.”

Armitage was still surveying the room, trying to find any trace of the cat. Fortunately, Winky’s bowls were out of sight in the bottom drawer of my desk.

“He’s only got one eye,” Armitage said.

“Who has?” Zak looked confused.

“Her cat. The ugly brute has only got one eye.”

I felt Winky flinch at the words ‘ugly brute’. If he launched an attack on Armitage, it would be game over. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, he was still way more annoyed with me, so he continued to claw at my leg.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Jill?” Zak asked. “You look in some discomfort.”

“I’m fine thanks. I just had a little too much curry last night, I think.”

That seemed to have the desired effect.

“I think we’re done here.” Zak moved back to the door.

“She has a cat,” Armitage protested. “I saw him with my own eyes.”

“Why would I keep a cat in the office?” I smiled sweetly at Armitage.

“Thanks again for your time.” Zak led the way out.

Armitage turned to me. “This isn’t over.”

 

I waited until I’d heard them leave, and then reversed the ‘hide’ spell. Winky was attached to my legs with his claws.

“Get off!” I shook him off, sending him sliding across the floor. “Look what you’ve done!” I pointed to the scratch marks on the back of my legs. “I could have you arrested and thrown in cat jail for that.”

“Never mind your legs. What about my helicopter. Give me the remote.”

I threw the control at his head, but somehow he managed to catch it. He had good hands for a cat. Moments later he’d opened the window and was surveying the road for signs of wreckage.

“Lucky for you,” he said.

“I don’t feel very lucky,” I said, as I patted my poor legs with a tissue.

“Bella managed to grab the chopper before it crash landed.”

“I’m so very relieved.”

“You should be. You would have had to buy me a new one if it had crashed.”

I wasn’t sure who I should be more angry with. Winky for being a psycho or Armitage for trying to get me thrown out of my offices. I settled on Armitage—he didn’t have such sharp claws. I’d get my own back on Mr Gordon Armitage.

 

I was still dabbing blood from the scratches on my legs when Mrs V came back into my office. Or at least, I assumed it was Mrs V, because I had my back to the door.

“What happened to your legs?” Jack Maxwell said.

I hurriedly turned around and threw the bloody tissue into the waste basket.

“The cat mistook me for his scratching post.” I pointed to Winky.


He
did that? That animal is a psycho. Why don’t you get rid of him?”

“He’s quite sweet really.” Who was I kidding?

“What’s he doing anyway?”

I glanced across at Winky. Oh bum, I’d forgotten he still had the remote control.

“Oh that? It’s—err—it’s just a cat toy I picked up at the market.”

“It looks like some kind of remote control.”

“Does it? Oh, yeah. I hadn’t noticed.”

I just hoped that Maxwell wouldn’t see the helicopter. How was I meant to explain that away?

“What brings you here, Detective?”

“There’s news on the Tregar Court murder. I was passing by anyway, and thought you’d want to know.”

“Thanks, but are you sure that Sushi won’t mind?”

He gave me a cutting look.

“Sorry, she just winds me up.”

“Susan is a first class detective. She’ll be an asset to the Washbridge force.”

Yawn. “If you say so.”

“I wanted to let you know that Jason Allan has been found dead. Suicide.”

That was the last thing I’d expected. Sure, he’d been in shock when I’d told him about Alan Dennis, but I never dreamed he would kill himself.

“Are you sure it was suicide?”

“Pretty much. The handwriting on the note is definitely his.”

“Poor guy.”

“That’s not all. In his suicide note he confessed to murdering Alan Dennis. He also made a point of saying that he’d had no idea the man was his father or even that he was paying his rent.”

“Why did Jason kill him? It’s not as though he knew he was his father.”

“Who says he didn’t know? We only have Allan’s word for that.”

“I saw his reaction when I told him. He was in complete shock. There’s no way he knew before.”

“Either way, he made a full confession.”

“But, why wasn’t the murder captured on tape?”

“We may never know. Anyway, I just wanted to bring you up to speed. I assume you’ll let your client know.”

“Yeah, thanks. And thank Sushi for me.”

Maxwell shook his head. “You really should cut Susan some slack. You two are more similar than you might like to think.”

Way to insult someone.

 

It was like Piccadilly Circus in my office. No sooner had Maxwell left, than Kathy walked in.

“I passed Jacky Boy on the stairs.” She had a stupid grin on her face. “You two an item again?”

“We were never an item. We went out a couple of times—that’s all.”

“I’ll believe you, thousands wouldn’t. What did he want?”

“Nothing. Just work stuff.”

“How come his new girlfriend wasn’t with him?”

“She’s not his girlfriend.” I jumped in much too quickly.

“Okay. Keep your hair on. Why do you care if you’re not interested in him?”

“I don’t. I was just saying—never mind—what brings you here? Do you need another favour?”

“Charming. Anyone would think the only time I come to see my sister is to ask a favour.”

“That’s because it is. What is it this time?”

“It just so happens you’re wrong. I came because I have a bone to pick with you.”

“What did I do?”

“I believe you have something for me.”

I shook my head. I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Something your grandmother asked you to give to me?”

Whoops. Busted. “Oh yeah. I totally forgot.”

“Liar. You just don’t want me to work at her shop.”

“I did you a favour. You’d have hated working there. That woman can be a slave driver.”

“Is that what you think of me?” Grandma walked through from the outer office.

“Grandma?” I glared at Kathy who was enjoying my discomfort way too much. “You didn’t tell me that Grandma was with you.”

“It must have slipped my mind just like you forgot to give me her note.”

“I’m pleased to say that your sister has accepted my job offer, “Grandma said. “We both wanted to give you the good news.”

Yay! “That’s—err—great.”

“I start next week.”

Kathy was obviously thrilled—we’d see how long that lasted. Poor, delusional fool.

“What’s that buzzing noise?” Grandma asked.

I glanced at the window and saw the helicopter on its final approach.

“Must be workmen in the street,” I lied.

“What’s the cat doing?” Kathy stared at Winky who was pressing the lever on his remote control.

“That’s his new toy.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. I think it’s meant to look like a phone or something.”

“It looks more like the remote control that Mikey has for his car.”

“Really? Do you think so?”

“Aren’t cat toys usually mice or fish?”

“I thought he might like something different.” I grabbed Winky and slammed the window shut. “Now, I have to get going. I have an appointment.” I herded Kathy and Grandma out of the office, down the stairs and outside. Moments later there was a crash a few yards away—just down the street from where we were standing.

“What was that?” Kathy yelled.

Grandma surveyed the tangle of metal and plastic on the ground. “It looks like some kind of toy helicopter.”

 

Beryl Christy wasn’t in her office, but then I deliberately hadn’t called ahead. Her secretary, Polly Waites, would have made a matching bookend with Mrs V. Except of course that Polly didn’t spend all day knitting.

She had no idea when Mrs Christy would be back, but she’d been told that I should be given access to any information I needed.

“Where are the HR and payroll records kept?” I asked.

“I look after all of that.”

“Could I see the HR record for Eddie Lingard?”

“I’m sorry, but Eddie’s details are no longer on the system.”

“Is it usual to remove an employee’s records when they leave?”

“No, but Mrs Christy specifically asked for Eddie’s to be deleted.”

“I see. What about his payroll details? Did those get deleted too?”

“No, because he’s still being paid.”

“How come?”

“I’m not really sure. Mrs Christy said to leave him on the payroll for now.”

“Right. Thank you for your help.”

Eddie Lingard had been dismissed for reasons unknown. Reasons which Mrs Christy refused to discuss. And yet, he was still being paid by the company who had dismissed him. I could think of only one explanation.

 

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