Wonder Wand Way (Witch of Mintwood Book 10) Read online

  There was something about this Simon guy that I was missing, I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. As he talked to Bridget she laughed a couple of times, and whenever she did, Tom’s scowl deepened. Simon, meanwhile, appeared to be oblivious to the police deputy’s presence.

  Besides the Bridget drama, Miss Violetta had come in while I was absorbed in the papers. Every time I saw her she had a different hairstyle, and today was no different. The last time I saw her, about a week ago, she was sporting a red mohawk. Before that it was purple extensions. This time it was blond streaks.

  “Hello, dear,” she said, coming up to my table, gripping my arm, and smiling brightly.

  “Hello,” I said, returning the smile.

  “How are you? Everything okay?” She was doing that thing where she appeared to be asking more than she was actually asking.

  I nodded. Charlie had promised to keep Miss Violetta up to date on anything she discovered about the secret meetings, but unfortunately Charlie didn’t have anything definitive yet.

  “We’re mostly working at Bright Lights,” I told the hairdresser.

  “I heard about that,” she said enthusiastically. “So glad it’s finally going to be put to good use. When I was moving here from New York City, I considered buying that building instead of the space I did buy. Given that there was a dead body in my hair salon, I probably didn’t make the best choice, but I’m still glad I didn’t buy Bright Lights. The realtor at Mintwood Realty didn’t think it was any place for a hair salon, and I think she was right.”

  Without much news to report in either direction, Miss Violetta and I said our goodbyes and I headed over to the Twinkle to see Liam.

  As I walked into the clothing store I was overwhelmed by how many people were shopping. Not that the store was deserted most of the time, far from it, but it rarely drew this many customers at one time.

  Liam was in the midst of the commotion, flitting from one customer to another looking utterly overwhelmed and simultaneously swamped with happiness. He was far too busy to talk to the likes of me.

  “Where’s your mom?” I asked him, as soon as he had a free moment.

  “She has the day off. Clearly that was a mistake. I appreciate her helping me out here in the store, but she can’t do it all the time. It’s terribly odd to think that our parents have their own lives, isn’t it?” he said, looking totally stressed.

  I wished there was something I could do to help him, but he waved me away. He was right. The only useful thing I could do for him right now was to get out from underfoot.

  Outside the store the day was still quiet, which was fine with me since I expected to be extra busy when night fell.

  I headed home and then just puttered around for a long time, wanting to save my energy for later. I even tried to take a nap so I’d be ready for a long evening of nighttime wandering.

  What did my evening agenda consist of?

  Well, we were going to the Mintwood Muddled Cemetery for a visit. As we had all agreed, most of Mr. Curtain’s contemporaries should have passed away by now. Some of them would be at the cemetery, and we would do well to speak with those who were there. After that we probably wouldn’t have time to go to Bright Lights.

  I was all ready to go to the cemetery and had come out to the porch while I waited until it was time to go. Charlie had come home from work and gone inside to change quickly, and when she was ready, we’d be on our way.

  While I waited for Charlie I sat on the dark porch, just thinking. The old boards creaked under me and a cool breeze brushed my face. Overhead the night sky was filled with a million brilliant stars.

  Paws was going with us to the cemetery, but he wasn’t happy about it.

  “What’s the point of being my investigative partner if you never want to investigate?” I asked him.

  “I want to investigate when I don’t have to see dogs or leave the farm,” he clarified.

  “I’m pretty sure that means you don’t want to investigate,” I told him.

  Arguing with Paws didn’t require my full attention. I could enjoy the beautiful night and debate with him all at the same time.

  “Out of a sense of obligation, I’ll do it,” he said.

  “Got it,” I muttered.

  “Ready?” Charlie asked, coming out the door in a flurry.

  “Kind of,” I said.

  “Of course I’m ready, darling lady,” said Paws, suddenly becoming open and solicitous.

  I rolled my eyes and headed off toward the Beetle.

  When we arrived at the cemetery, it was a lot more packed with ghosts than usual. Oftentimes ghosts went visiting other cemeteries to see friends who were buried elsewhere, but tonight all the friends seemed to have come to Mintwood. There were ghosts everywhere.

  It took us nearly ten minutes to find Funnel, the bloodhound ghost dog we liked to visit and the unofficial boss of the cemetery. If anyone had a question, Funnel usually knew the answer.

  We usually had questions, and he was always our first stop. As often as not we could find him by the cemetery keeper’s shed. Mr. Snicks kept the cemetery in very good working order, and there was a light on over the shed that Funnel appreciated.

  Funnel wasn’t there tonight.

  “Shirking his duty! Who is surprised by that?” Paws muttered, his tail fluffed out wide in judgment. “He’s a dog, after all. They cannot be relied upon for so much as a sniff or a sniffle, let alone to get real investigative information out of. It isn’t as if he’s a cat!”

  “Funnel has been very reliable. He has come all the way to the farmhouse on numerous occasions when he had information for me,” I said, just as a ghost in a cowboy hat and boots slipped past us saying something about a bullfight out west. Paws shook his head in further judgment.

  “It looks like something is going on over there,” said Charlie, pointing to a quiet corner of the cemetery with a particularly dense cluster of ghosts hovering around it.

  As we made our way to the gathering of ghosts, Funnel broke out of the crowd and loped over to us.

  “I thought I heard an unpleasant voice,” he said, looking at Paws.

  “Thought you wouldn’t be here,” the cat muttered.

  “I’m always here on important nights like tonight,” said the ghost dog.

  “What’s going on tonight?” I asked, trying to see what Funnel had been doing.

  “Monthly pot luck,” Funnel explained. “Ghosts gather from all over and we always have the best time. We move locations, but tonight it’s in Mintwood. You came on a very lucky night.”

  “I highly doubt that,” said Paws.

  “What can I do for you?” Funnel asked, ignoring the voice at my feet.

  I told him we were looking for ghosts who might have been alive in the sixties and seventies.

  “There are plenty of them. If you need specific information, it might be easier if you could tell me a little more,” said Funnel.

  “I found a ghost named Corey Curtain in the Bright Lights Cinema downtown. I’m looking for anyone who might have known him,” I said.

  As Funnel and I spoke, I kept an eye on what was going on behind him. The ghosts were moving around and laughing. Sometimes they would glance at me, but not as if they were very interested. Most of the ghosts around here who hung out with other ghosts already knew who the Witch of Mintwood was.

  “Be back in a jiffy and lickety split,” said Funnel.

  As he loped away again Paws asked irritably, “Do you think he could move any more slowly if he tried?”

  “Probably,” said Charlie. “He’s moving at a fast enough clip. I’m sure he’s going to return with some helpful information.”

  “Hopefully he returns with a helpful ghost,” said Paws.

  Funnel was gone longer than I expected. While we waited, I made my way closer to the gathering of ghosts in hopes of getting some sense of what they were doing.

  “Dice!” exclaimed Charlie, peeking over my shoulder. She had followed me o
ver, and when they heard her voice, several ghosts turned to look at her, then shook their heads when they saw that we weren’t ghosts..

  Most of them were used to us, but some of the visitors weren’t at all accustomed to humans showing up and being able to see them. Charlie’s reaction to the dice only confirmed that being a ghost was better.

  Charlie blushed and shrugged and the ghosts returned their attention to the game at hand.

  “I like dice,” said Paws, finally perking up ever so slightly.

  “Even when ghosts who like dogs play it?” I asked.

  Paws didn’t deign to answer that one.

  “Here we are,” said Funnel, emerging from the crowd with three ghosts in tow. One was an old man in a suit and tie. Another was an older woman with an apron on. The third person was the oldest of all. He was wearing overalls.

  “Shall we go somewhere quieter?” Funnel asked as a yell went up from the crowd.

  I said that we should.

  Funnel led us over to the shed and happily plopped down in the circle cast by the light. The other ghosts looked at him with silent distrust, none of the rest of them going near the brightness.

  “You said you wanted to talk about Mr. Curtain?” the woman with the apron asked. “I’m Danielle. This is Mayor Julious, and this is Lester.” She indicated the man with the suit and then the man with the overalls.

  I introduced myself as the Witch of Mintwood. Then I introduced Charlie as a local reporter extraordinaire.

  “Yes, I met Mr. Curtain’s ghost recently. I’m trying to find out as much as I can about what was going on in Mintwood around the time when he died,” I said.

  “Why would you want to do a thing like that? Let sleeping ghosts not lie is what I always say,” said Lester.

  “As the witch, I’m afraid that I can’t do that. How did you know him?” I asked Lester.

  “Did some work on the cinema from time to time. I was the town handyman back in the day,” he explained.

  “What about you two?” I asked the question even though I already had some idea that Mayor Julious had known Mr. Curtain.

  “I worked at the diner for years,” said Danielle. She looked like a warm and loving aunt, the kind of woman you might indeed run into at a diner, and who would insist that you add yet more maple syrup to your French toast.

  “Corey always came in and ordered the exact same thing. He was a lovely man. Shame he never married and had a family.”

  “Some people weren’t meant to be married. Some people like peace and quiet,” said Lester.

  “I hear that,” said Paws. “Not just people, either.”

  Lester glanced at the cat in surprise and then nodded.

  “How did you know him?” I asked Mayor Julious.

  Mayor Julious snorted. “I knew him from being mayor. I knew everyone in town, basically. We had dealings with him when he wanted permission for special events. He was always somewhere in the downtown. My wife and I would go to the pictures from time to time and he was always there.”

  “Can any of you think of anyone who might have wanted to kill him?” I asked.

  “Good gracious,” gasped Danielle. “Of course not. He was a lovely and kind-hearted man. No one would want to hurt him. It isn’t as if there are murderers around Mintwood.” Danielle clutched at her chest and looked upset.

  “What proof do you have that he was murdered?” Lester asked, scrutinizing me.

  “None,” I said.

  “So what are you doing here?” Mayor Julious scoffed.

  “Yes, how dare you upset me like that!” Danielle demanded.

  “We have to ask such questions,” said Paws suddenly. He had prowled around our feet, examining everyone’s ankles. Now he glared up at the three ghosts we were interviewing. “If you don’t have anything to hide, you’ll answer them honestly.”

  “Of course we don’t have anything to hide,” Danielle scoffed again. “I told you, I only ever saw him at the diner. No one wanted to hurt him. A cinema is pretty harmless, don’t you think?”

  “Depends on the popcorn,” Charlie shrugged.

  “Can you think of anything else that might help us?” I asked.

  Mayor Julious shook his head, but Lester frowned and appeared to be deep in thought.

  “Two of the projection rooms had stopped working. They’d broken. Mr. Curtain was pretty upset about it. I only died recently, so I remember that time well. Corey was bothered. He thought the projectors should be working, and that they’d been tampered with. I told him he was crazy, but after I looked at them I wasn’t so sure he was wrong,” he said.

  “How were they tampered with?” I asked.

  “Lines were cut. They tried to make it look like fraying, but it wasn’t,” he said.

  Charlie and I exchanged looks. That sounded a lot like sabotage. In other words, someone did not want any pictures shown at Bright Lights around the time of Mr. Curtain’s death.

  We asked a few more questions, but none of the ghosts could remember much. Lester had no idea who had vandalized the projection rooms.

  “Thanks for your time,” I sighed. I smiled at the ghosts. They had been a little bit helpful, but I had hoped to get more out of them.

  We were just turning away when Charlie said, “Excuse me, Mayor Julious?”

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Was that the first year there was to be a film festival in Mintwood?” she said.

  “I believe it was. There were many local films submitted. I mean, local to New England,” he said.

  “Thank you, that’s exciting! Do you happen to remember any of the names?” said Charlie.

  “No, I don’t believe there was anything memorable,” he said.

  “Of course not,” she agreed, and the two of us were on our way.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As we drove home, there was something nagging at me about what the ghosts had said. The death of Mr. Curtain was linked to the film festival that was supposed to take place that weekend, that much was clear. But I still didn’t have any information about the festival itself. Why was it so hard to find out anything about it?

  Charlie had been scouring newspapers for information on Mr. Curtain and the cinema from the beginning. There had been just one small mention of the coming film festival, telling people to stop in at the theater to pick up a copy of the program, but that was it.

  The actual program itself appeared to be unavailable.

  As I thought more about it, it struck me as very odd that we had been cleaning Bright Lights for days and we hadn’t come across a single copy. In fact, we hadn’t come across anything that said a word about the festival. If I had hoped I’d simply find a stack of programs sitting by the front door with a sign on them that said “Waiting For Lemmi,” I had been sorely mistaken.

  I sighed. There was just a bit more investigating to do.

  The day after our visit to the ghosts, I headed for downtown Mintwood right after breakfast.

  I had an idea, and I wanted to get downtown and try it out as soon as possible. Paws wasn’t visible on the porch, so he couldn’t come with me. Much to his regret, I was sure. It was also unlikely that I’d see Mr. Curtain if I went to the theater.

  The day was crisp and clear as I headed to the Daily Brew. After I grabbed a couple of coffees, I headed over to the Twinkle Costume Shop.

  Liam’s store wouldn’t be open yet, but he would likely be there.

  I knocked on the front door.

  There was no answer.

  I knocked again. This time Liam opened the door a smidgen and looked at me.

  “Oh, it’s only you.” He turned and looked over his shoulder at something out of view. “The coast is clear,” he said into the darkness.

  “Holding secret meetings?” I teased him. I had momentarily forgotten that there were secret meetings held in downtown Mintwood, but asking Liam if he was hosting a secret meeting of his own brought that mystery back to mind as well.

  “Kind of. Not se
cret from you, though. Do come in,” he said, stepping aside. His eyes turned hawkish as he glanced across the street at the Daily Brew.

  Bridget was behind the counter, her blond hair falling over one shoulder. She was bent over a bunch of papers Liam had strewn around.

  As I stepped inside the dark shop, she looked up and smiled.

  “Bridget loves my shop. Smart girl. She wants to have one of her own someday, so I’m teaching her the ropes. She’s way easier to teach than my mother,” Liam said.

  Bridget smiled. “I’ve loved this place since it opened. I never thought Liam would be willing to show me how he does everything. The Daily Brew is a fine place to work, but it’s not want I want to do for the rest of my life.”

  “That’s awesome!” I said enthusiastically. She had a dream and she was pursuing it. Nothing could be better. Liam also now had a partner in crime, as if he needed one.

  “Are you keeping it a secret from your aunt?” I asked.

  Bridget sighed. “She wouldn’t want me bothering Liam with my unpractical dreams, I’m afraid. She also does want help at the coffee shop. She says good help is hard to come by.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” I said. “I really think you should tell her you want to open a clothing store. I don’t think she’ll mind as much as you think.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I’ll tell her soon. I just have to pluck up my courage,” Bridget agreed.

  “What can I help you with, anyway?” Liam asked.

  “Just wanted you to know I’m headed for the cinema,” I said.

  “I’ll try to be by later. I can’t wait to see what else is there,” said Liam. “Might bring Bridget. We’ve been talking all morning about how sad it is that we don’t know who owns the place.”

  After I left I headed for Bright Lights. Something about my visit to Bridget and Liam was bothering me, but yet again I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

  This mystery was very close to being solved . . . if only I could figure out something that seemed to be just out of my reach.

  As I unlocked the door to the cinema and pulled it open, realization struck.

  It was that wonderful moment when chaos straightens itself out.