Spooky Spindle Read online

  Spooky Spindle

  (The Jane Garbo Mysteries, Book 4)

  by

  Addison Creek

  Copyright © 2018 by Addison Creek

  Cover Design © Broken Arrow Designs

  This novel is a work of fiction in which names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is completely coincidental.

  License Notes

  Thank you for downloading this eBook. This book remains the copyrighted property of

  the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

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  Chapter One

  It was a dark and moody night. The sky didn’t seem to be able to make up its mind what it wanted to do. Much like Cookie any day of the week.

  Clouds kept skittering across the horizon. Sometimes they’d gather, and in a moment it looked like it would storm. Other times the clouds would disappear and leave a sparkling blanket of stars in their wake.

  It was cold outside; the beginning of winter was upon us. Icy shards hit my cheeks whenever I ventured outdoors.

  Cookie liked to stroll around the grounds with a pet fire following her. Much like a small dog, a small blaze stayed close behind her everywhere she went.

  Unsurprisingly, Mom hated the flames with a passion. At first she would just yell at Cookie whenever she saw such nonsense. When Cookie didn’t stop with the little fire after a few heated requests, Mom took it further. It became part of Mom’s ritual to check on Cookie throughout the day. If she saw Cookie with a flame, she would get very angry.

  Cookie felt terrible about this.

  There was true guilt there. She vowed to make changes.

  The fire got a bit bigger.

  As the dark days shortened, my grandmother became more adept at avoiding my mom. Cookie would see Mom’s shadow coming, and avoid it. She got used to Mom’s schedule and knew when Mom liked to take breaks. In other words, Cookie cleverly created every opportunity she could to avoid Mom and her fire-banishing ways.

  It was going to be a fun winter.

  Most houses have a certain level of cold draft; an old mansion has that times ten. Usually when repairs had to be made to Haunted Bluff Mansion, we made them to the haunted house first. After that the tenants needed to be taken care of. Only then were we able to consider the house itself. In a typical winter, spring would arrive before we ever got any of the leaks fixed, and we’d forget all about the leaky roof or the drafty window.

  Keeping the fires stoked became a regular job. For the most part the guys took care of that chore, but when they were out for the day, the job fell to the rest of us. The fires needed to be fed. They also needed to be allowed to burn out regularly so that the wood stoves and chimneys could cleared.

  We took to spending even more time than usual in the kitchen. The warmest room in the winter was the one with the ovens, so as much as possible we stayed close to Aunt Audrey, who cooked for all of us. From one day to the next Audrey was terribly busy with baking. We were honor-bound to try her creations.

  On one particular blustery day, she was busy making loaves of bread, but they weren’t just any loaves. Audrey was making lavender and mint sourdough bread in one of the ovens. In the next oven she had Gouda cheese and cinnamon bread, and in the last one she was baking a bread that she refused to tell us about.

  None of us really cared. It was warm near the ovens, so we weren’t about to argue. We didn’t want Audrey to get fed up and kick us out in the cold, meaning out into the hallway with Steve the skeleton.

  If anyone had occasion to go outside, we made sure to have a jacket and warm gloves. As for me, I usually added boots and an extra thick layer of socks to fight off the cold.

  If I was really desperate, I’d try to come up with an excuse to get Cookie to come outside with me. She’d bring along her pet fire and it wouldn’t be so chilly anymore.

  That worked a couple of times, but Cookie quickly got wise to my ploy and stopped falling for it.

  Given the biting cold and our desperation to remain indoors, what Cookie decided we should all do one evening was very surprising. We were all sitting in the kitchen when she came marching in, dressed for flying, her goggles stuck on top of her head.

  “How much time before dinner?” she said.

  “About an hour and a half,” said Audrey.

  “Just enough time. I want everyone dressed and on the back lawn in ten.” And she marched back out.

  We all exchanged looks: my cousins Lark and Pep; Kip and his brother Corey, who had lived with us for years; my brother Cam; and my other cousin Lizzie. Plus, of course, me.

  Cookie’s motivation for forcing us out into the winter evening was utterly mysterious. Just looking outside made my toes colder.

  Going through a mental checklist of what was happening that evening, I still didn’t find any clear clue.

  In the end I thought it might have something to do with the fact that it was a union meeting night, so my mother and my aunt Meg were occupied with the supernaturals. Despite the fact that Cookie was the head of the household, she was no longer invited to the meetings. The reason was obvious: she said so many inflammatory things that the supernaturals had threatened to quit if they were forced to deal with her. From then on my mother had kept Cookie as far away from the proceedings as possible.

  Usually this didn’t bother my grandmother, so I had no idea why tonight was different. Tonight she seemed annoyed by the prospect of the meeting. Instead of just sitting around alone in her apartment and leaving us in peace, she had decided to gather the entire younger generation of Garbos and everyone else who lived in the mansion and wasn’t involved in the meeting.

  That was how Kip, Corey, Lizzie, Lark, Pep, and I ended up heading outside to follow her orders.

  Mom definitely wouldn’t be around to catch Cookie with her fire dog tonight. But it wasn’t the idea that Mom was busy that bothered me. No, what bothered me was that I should have been included in the union meeting, and I hadn’t been. When my mom had given me the role of liaison between the witches and Down Below, she had said I’d have to start coming to meetings.

  She’d been stonewalling me about it ever since.

  I had asked her about it a number of times, but she had always come up with some excuse.

  No one from Down Below was at the meetings, so I knew that
was part of it. But still, my feelings were conflicted.

  On the one hand, I had never had any desire to go to these meetings before.

  On the other hand, I wanted to be included in the important decisions. If I weren’t super extra careful, I’d be at risk of turning into Cookie.

  We scrambled to leave the kitchen in Cookie’s wake. Audrey kept making annoyed comments as we got in her way in our haste to get out.

  Cookie had told us to dress warmly, but she hadn’t given us any other information about what we’d be doing. Given what she’d been wearing, though, it was pretty obvious what we’d be doing.

  After about ten minutes, we were all bundled, gathered, and standing on the back lawn. The lights of the mansion blazed behind us and the ocean looked like a long black blanket in front of us.

  I decided I must be really really cold if I was seeing blankets in the ocean.

  “It would be the perfect night for a haunted house, don’t you think?” said Lark. Her teeth were chattering and her red hair stuck out from under her hat.

  “It’s a real pity it’s closed tonight,” said Pep, who was bundled up in more warm gear than the rest of us. She had at least six layers on and she still looked cold.

  “I can’t believe how many people still come every weekend,” said Corey, shivering in the wind. “The attendance figures are only improving from year to year. Even the seasons are getting better. Take this winter weather, for example. Shouldn’t people be hunkering down and staying warm? Aren’t they going to movies and making hot chocolate and stuff while they sit by fires? Who wants to be scared at a time like this?”

  “An awful lot of people, apparently,” I said. “Do you have any idea how well horror movies do at the box office?”

  “I suppose,” Corey said. “Still, I wish we closed the haunted house for the winter. Staying open through the holidays just feels wrong. Especially with our Christmas themes.”

  “Mom has so much fun with it, though,” said Lark, who was one of Meg’s daughters, the other being Pep. “I would hate to take that away from her. Everyone seems to take it with a grain of salt. I’m sure everyone is celebrating the holidays as well.”

  “Stop jibber jabbering and follow me,” said Cookie, marching past us. How she had gotten so close without any of us hearing her I didn’t know. Sure enough, though, there was a little fire following along after her.

  True to her costume, Cookie had decided to teach us how to fly! Tonight! In weather unfit for polar bears.

  Of course.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the ghosts in their barn. Even they were shivering as they watched us.

  “This is going to be terrible,” said Pep.

  “Finally. I’ve been waiting so long for this,” said Lizzie happily. As usual, she looked glam and out of place. She glanced at Kip, with whom she had been in love forever, to see if her excitement was mirrored in his face. He did look pleased, but he didn’t know that Lizzie was looking at him. He picked his nose and she looked away.

  For my part, I was frustrated. Having done at least some flying was one of the few things I had on Lizzie. If she learned to fly as well, I’d have to come up with something else to make me feel superior. She was already a haunt hunter over me. There wasn’t much left.

  “I’m so excited to learned how to fly, I can’t tell you!” she gushed. “I’m going to be so good at it, I’m going to be like a fish in water. I’m going to fly through the sky. Literally, I had dreams about how amazing it all was!”

  Lark stuck her fingers in her ears.

  “Would you be quiet! And that isn’t a question,” Cookie barked.

  Lizzie’s mouth closed instantly.

  “It’s high time all of you learned how to fly,” Cookie went on. “With so much trouble going on with the supernaturals, we can’t risk any of you not knowing simple basics like flight. Who knows when the knowledge might come in handy? If I teach you now, at least you’ll know how to do it if you ever need it.”

  Looking determined, my grandmother adjusted her goggles, then turned so that her back was facing the ocean. Behind her a fleet of owls rose up, ready to take us flying. Some of them looked as if they were bracing for impact.

  Learning how to fly was simple. Usually there were two owls who helped you, one flying in front and one behind. The one behind critiqued your performance. Most witches and warlocks were poor flyers and needed a lot of critiquing.

  But at least one of us was not comforted by the owls. “I’m not a big fan of heights,” said Corey, who was thin and nowhere near as big as his brother. He shoved his glasses up his nose and looked nervous. “Can I just go run some experiments in the barn?”

  “You most certainly can’t,” said Cookie. “I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime here.”

  “Actually, Jane’s mom doesn’t want us out here. If she had wanted us to learn how to fly she would’ve taught us herself by now,” Corey said.

  “Don’t quibble with me, young man. I can find something for you to do that you won’t like anywhere near as much as you’ll like flying,” Cookie threatened.

  Since Corey had made it clear that he wouldn’t like flying at all, whatever she was threatening must have been truly, seriously unpleasant.

  Corey took the hint. “Very well,” he said. “Let’s learn how to fly.”

  “I think it’s important that we haunt hunters learn how to fly. In fact, I think it’s imperative,” said Lizzie.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I agree with you. We really should have done this a long time ago,” said Pep.

  Oh, no. Even the voice of reason was agreeing with Lizzie.

  Maybe the cold had gotten to Pep’s brain.

  “I really don’t see why Jane needs to be here,” said Lizzie. “Lark and Pep as well. They aren’t haunt hunters. They’re not going to ever need to fly.”

  My grandmother lifted her goggles to glare at Lizzie. Really, it wasn’t a surprise that she got that reaction. We all knew that my grandmother didn’t like her orders questioned. The insane ones and the other insane ones were all to be followed in equal measure. Maybe Lizzie was a little slow on the pickup.

  “I’m going to teach you all how to fly,” said Cookie. “If you’ll remember, it wasn’t that long ago that Jane did need to know how to fly. Times are changing quickly and we need to be able to shift with the winds. If you keep arguing with me I’d be more than happy to throw you over the cliff to get you started.”

  “I still don’t see the point,” Lizzie grumbled under her breath.

  “Since you have so much to say, why don’t you go first?” said Cookie, with a wave in Lizzie’s direction.

  My cousin paled. Despite all the warnings, she wasn’t expecting Cookie to call her out like that. What was worse, she wasn’t really dressed for the occasion. She was wearing head to toe black leather, with thigh skimming boots. As usual, she looked more like she should be in a disco or a club then preparing to fly off a cliff in the winter.

  “I don’t know if that’s really necessary,” Lizzie said, half nervous and half defiant. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

  “Exactly. And there’s only one way to learn,” said Cookie easily.

  Lark reached up to scratch her nose, covering a smirk as she did so.

  Trembling, Lizzie moved forward, squared her shoulders, and lifted her head. She gave one glance at Kip to see if he was feeling her pain, but he was picking his nose again and looking at the ground. Her jaw clenched as two owls flew over to her.

  “Don’t even think about telling me that you want the pretty ones,” said Cookie.

  “And I didn’t think this was going to be any fun,” said Lark, her cheeks rosy. If there had been a chair for her to lounge in, I was sure she would have taken it and leaned back with her fingers laced behind her head and a big grin on her face.

  Chapter Two

  An hour later we had all learned the basics of flying. We were also all freezing, with only our
hostility to warm us.

  Some of us were better at it than others.

  Corey was terrible.

  Kip and I were the best, if I do say so myself.

  While we were wobbling through the air, I noticed that we had an audience of one. This was a human onlooker; the ghosts had lost interest after Lizzie fell off her broom the first time.

  My whole face shot up in flames when I saw Grant gazing our way. He had been away for the last week, and I had missed him desperately. Walking around the mansion hadn’t been the same when I knew I wouldn’t get to see him accidentally on purpose. Now he was sitting at one of the picnic tables, watching us fly.

  When he noticed me looking, I waved. My attention to the task at hand having wandered, I nearly crashed into Lark.

  Cookie bellowed at me to not be distracted by a pretty man.

  I had suddenly forgotten how to do everything. Five minutes ago I’d been the best flyer there. Now I was nearly mowing down my cousin as I barreled around and risked falling out of the sky.

  I forced myself to concentrate.

  When we had all taken flight at last, Corey was the only one who had launched himself over the cliff edge. The rest of us stayed safely above land. If we tumbled out of the sky, it would only mean a bruise, not a soaking in frigid ocean water, or worse.

  Pep, Lark, and I had already had to fly off the cliff when we searched out my family after the last murder at the mansion. My mother had given a speech about the dangers of flying, and of murder. She was determined that there should be no murders this month.

  Five simple weeks. How hard was that?

  We were about to find out.

  “If that isn’t an example of low goals I don’t know what it is,” Cookie had said, shaking her head at my mother

  “We have to start somewhere. Apparently we’re going to start with the very low bar of no murder,” said my mother.

  Even though I was a detective, I had to agree with her. Murders meant death and lots of trouble to boot. On top of someone being dead and all that, it was really upsetting to the supernaturals. Most of them felt like they had already had to live through their own deaths, so why should they have to live through someone else’s as well?