Witch Is When Stuff Got Serious (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 11) Read online

  Witch Is When

  Stuff Got Serious

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2016

  The right of Adele Abbott to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved, worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, dead or alive, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Also from Adele Abbott

  Chapter 1

  There was an attractive young woman with long, blonde hair, sitting behind Mrs V’s desk. Before I could ask her what she was doing there, she addressed me.

  “Good morning, Madam. Welcome to the offices of Ken Gooder, Private Investigator. How may I help you this morning?”

  I was obviously missing something. “Jill Gooder,” I said.

  “Miss Gooder isn’t in at the moment. Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. I’m Jill Gooder.”

  “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t recognise you. You looked different on Skype.”

  I was beginning to get bad vibes.

  “Could you remind me—when exactly was it we talked on Skype?”

  “You interviewed me for this job. Remember?”

  “Of course. And when was that, again?”

  “A couple of days ago. You said I was just what you were looking for, and that I could start immediately.”

  “Oh yes. Silly me. It must have slipped my mind. I’m sorry, but I’ve also forgotten your name?”

  “Julie Rules. But everyone calls me Jules.”

  “Right. So, Jules Rules?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Remind me again, Jules. What experience have you had as a PA?”

  “Like I said in the interview, I’ve been working in a black pudding factory.”

  “As a PA?”

  “No. Packing black puddings.”

  “Have you done any other work, apart from packing black puddings?”

  “Oh yes. I packed sausages for a little while. But then they promoted me.”

  “To black puddings?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I guess this is going to be quite a change for you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I’m really excited. I know it’s only temporary, but I feel like once I’ve got this on my CV, it will open other doors for me.”

  “I guess so. Do you have much experience with computers?”

  “Not much. I’ve got a smartphone though.”

  “Right.”

  “And a tablet.”

  “That’s nice. I’d better go through to my office. You carry on doing—err—whatever it is you’re doing.”

  “Okay, Miss Gooder.”

  “Call me Jill.”

  “Okay, Jill. Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?”

  “Yeah, that would be nice. One and two thirds spoonfuls of sugar please.”

  She looked a little worried. “I’m not very good with decimals.”

  “Never mind. Just make the tea, and I’ll put my own sugar in.”

  “Okay then.”

  “Winky! Where are you, Winky?”

  He came crawling out from under my desk. “You called?”

  “What have you done?”

  “Nothing. I was asleep.”

  “I mean little Miss Black Pudding out there?”

  “Pretty isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she’s very pretty.”

  “Beautiful hair.”

  “Yes, yes, but what’s she doing sitting at Mrs V’s desk?”

  “The last time I looked, she was filing her nails.”

  “Why does she think she’s my new temp?”

  “She is your new temp. I gave her the job.”

  “You can’t go around recruiting people!”

  “You should thank me. You said that you were too busy to do it yourself.”

  “She has no experience.”

  “She’s packed black puddings.”

  “Yeah, and sausages. But that’s hardly relevant. She’s barely even used a computer.”

  “It’s not like the old bag lady was much use. She just sat there all day knitting or crocheting or whatever it is she did with those needles. I can’t see how Jules will be any worse.”

  “Do you take milk?” Jules’ voice came through the intercom—making both me and Winky jump. I’d almost forgotten I had an intercom; Mrs V never used it because she was too hard of hearing. “Miss Gooder? Do you take milk?”

  I pressed the ‘speak’ button. “Yes Jules. Just a drop, please.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring it through.”

  I turned back to Winky. “Exactly what made you choose Jules as my new temp?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “Two things actually. First, she’s very easy on the eye.”

  “That’s hardly a qualification for the job.”

  “And, secondly, she loves cats.”

  “I should have known.”

  “Here you are, Miss Gooder.” Jules came in, carrying a cup of tea. “Whoops! I’ve spilt a bit. Do you have a cloth?”

  “It’s okay, Jules. I’ll see to it.”

  “Oh look! Your cat’s come out. He’s so cute, isn’t he? I love cats. Don’t you, Miss Gooder?”

  “Please call me Jill.”

  “Okay, Jill. What’s his name?”

  “This is Winky.”

  “Why do you call him that?”

  “Because of his eyes?”

  “What about them?”

  Oh boy.

  “He’s only got one.”

  “Oh yeah! I see. Winky, yeah. That’s funny. I’ve got four cats.”

  “Really?”

  “They’re my mum’s actually. I still live with my parents. I collect cat ornaments too. And jewellery—look!” She pointed to a small brooch on her lapel. “I’ve got lots of cat soft toys too. I keep them in my bedroom. I’ve even got cat wallpaper.”

  “That’s nice. Remind me, where were you when you were interviewed for the job?”

  “In my bedroom.”

  “I see. And that’s where the cat wallpaper and soft toys are?”

  “Yes.”

  It was all starting to make sense.

  “Thanks, Jules.”

  She turned to walk away, but then stopped. “Oh, by the way, Jill. I did what you asked, on my way into work.”

  “You did? Good. What was that, again?”

  “I bought some salmon, red not pink. And full cream milk. The salmon is in the cupboard, and the milk’s in the fridge. But I’ll need the money otherwise I won’t have the bus fare home.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get your money before you leave.”

&nbs
p; “Thanks. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

  “Not at the moment. Just answer the phone if anybody calls, but please don’t say ‘Ken Gooder’.”

  “But that’s what the sign outside says?”

  “Yes, I know. I haven’t actually got around to changing it, yet. If you could say, ‘Jill Gooder, P.I.’, that would be great.”

  “Okay. It’s a little bit confusing though, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”

  “There is one more thing, Jill. There seems to be a lot of scarves in the cupboard and desk drawers. Quite a lot of socks, too. Am I meant to be doing something with those?”

  “No, you don’t need to worry about them. They belong to Mrs V, my regular PA/receptionist. She knits a lot.”

  “I wish I could knit. I tried once, but I couldn’t understand it.”

  “It can be complicated. Do you have any other hobbies, Jules?”

  “Mainly YouTube. And Facebook. And a bit of Instagram. And collecting cat soft toys, of course.”

  “Of course. Okay, well off you go. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Okay, Jill. Thanks!”

  I turned to Winky. “I hope you didn’t tell Jules I was going to pay her.”

  “Of course you have to pay her. You don’t think she’s going to work for nothing, do you?”

  “Great, so I have to pay her, even though she’s had no experience whatsoever, and doesn’t know how to use a computer?”

  “She’s very good with cats though.”

  ***

  “I’m getting a drum kit for my birthday, Auntie Jill!” Mikey was on at me as soon as I walked through Kathy’s front door.

  “So I hear.”

  “I can’t bring it home because Mum and Dad say it will be too noisy, but I can play it at Tom Tom every day.”

  “Not every day.” Kathy rolled her eyes. “Do you remember what we agreed?”

  “Every day except Monday?”

  “Two days a week.”

  “Aw, but Mum. That’s not much.”

  “It’s either that or no drum kit. Okay?”

  “O—kay.” Mikey gave an exaggerated sigh.

  “I bet Auntie Jill will want to watch you play at Tom Tom. Won’t you, Auntie Jill?”

  “If I’m not busy. What days will you be going there?”

  “Tuesdays and Fridays,” Kathy said.

  “Tuesdays and Fridays? What a pity. Those are the two days when I have to work late.”

  “That’s lucky then.” Kathy grinned. “Because it’s actually Mondays and Wednesdays. So, you’ll be able to make it.”

  She was so crafty that sister of mine.

  “Great. I’ll look forward to that.”

  “Go and wash your hands, Mikey. It’s almost time for dinner.” Kathy turned to me. “When are you going to bring Jack over for us to meet him?”

  “Not yet. I don’t want to put him off before we’ve even started.”

  “What do you mean, put him off? Are you ashamed of us?”

  “No, but I know what you’re like. You’ll be asking him when the big day is, and how many kids we plan on having.”

  “So, when is the big day?”

  “There is no big day. We’ve only just started seeing one another.”

  “But you are seeing one another, then? As in, really seeing one another?”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “You know exactly what I mean. Have you had breakfast at his place yet?”

  “Stop quizzing her.” Peter came out of the living room. “You’ll scare her away.”

  “Not much chance of that. She has almost as many meals here as we do.”

  “I do not. It’s ages since I was around here for dinner.”

  “What about last Monday?”

  “Yeah, but before that.”

  “Friday. And Wednesday.”

  “You shouldn’t make such delicious meals. Speaking of which—is something burning?”

  “Oh no!” Kathy turned tail and headed for the kitchen.

  I followed Peter through to the dining room.

  “Thanks for rescuing me.”

  “That’s okay. You should tell your sister to mind her own business.”

  “Do you think that would work?”

  “Probably not.” He grinned.

  An ear-splitting noise came from upstairs.

  “What’s that?” I clamped my hands over my ears.

  Peter mouthed something.

  “What?”

  He mouthed the word again. “Lizzie.”

  I lowered my hands, and realised the noise was someone singing—and I use that term loosely—very loosely.

  “Winning that talent competition was the worst thing that could have happened.” Peter shook his head. “I still don’t understand how she did it. She has a terrible voice—even worse than Kathy’s, and that’s saying something. I had hoped she’d lose, and that would put her off for life. It was like she was possessed that day. Possessed by someone who could actually sing.”

  Oh bum! Maybe I shouldn’t have interfered.

  “Lizzie!” Kathy yelled. “Wash your hands and come down. Dinner is almost ready.”

  “Everything all right in the kitchen?” I asked.

  “Yeah. The Yorkshire puddings may be a little well done. Did you hear Lizzie singing?”

  “Oh, yes.” I heard her.

  “We’ve put her name down for another competition next month. In West Green.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Wouldn’t it be better to quit while she’s ahead?”

  “And let all that talent go to waste?”

  Peter and I exchanged a glance.

  “Are you looking forward to the picnic, Auntie Jill?” Lizzie said, through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

  I looked at Kathy who was doing her best not to laugh.

  “What picnic is that?”

  “We’re all going to Sunset Picnic site.”

  “All?”

  “Don’t you remember, Auntie Jill?” Kathy said. “You said you wanted to come.”

  “When was it I said that exactly?”

  “Last week. The kids are so pleased you’re coming with us.”

  She’d done it to me again. She knew I couldn’t say no when the kids were around. I’d just have to come up with an excuse closer to the time.

  Over dinner, I couldn’t help but notice that Peter kept mouthing something to Kathy—each time he did it, she shook her head.

  “Go on Kathy,” he said, eventually. “Tell Jill your news.”

  “I don’t want to tell her. I’m trying to forget about it.”

  “Trying to forget what? What is it you don’t want to tell me?”

  “Thanks, Pete.” She shot him a look. He’d be in trouble after I’d gone.

  “I’m surprised your grandmother hasn’t told you.”

  “Told me what for goodness sake?”

  “Wool TV approached her a few days ago. They want to do a reality TV show based in Ever.”

  “That’ll make riveting viewing.”

  “It will for viewers of Wool TV—they’ll lap it up. Apparently, it’s going to be called Wool Shop Yarns.”

  “That’s a terrible title. Has Grandma agreed to it? I’m surprised she didn’t tell them to sling their hook.”

  “She’s really enthusiastic. She sees it as a great opportunity for free publicity, which I suppose it will be. But I’m not keen. I don’t want cameramen following me around all day watching me pick my nose.”

  “Yuk, Mummy!” Lizzie shouted.

  “Do you eat it?” Mikey said. “I do.”

  “Mikey, please!” Peter tapped his son’s arm. “Not at the dinner table.”

  “You might become a TV celebrity.” I laughed. The whole idea was hilarious. “You’ll get invited on chat shows, and have the paparazzi following you around.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kathy said. “This is Wool TV we’r
e talking about. But what if I make a fool of myself on camera?”

  “It will probably end up on YouTube.”

  “Great! That’s all I need. Then the whole world can laugh at me.”

  “You could open your own channel and monetise it.”

  “Do what? Since when did you know so much about YouTube?”

  “Someone in the office mentioned it the other day.”

  Chapter 2

  Jules came into my office; she looked rather worried.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “There’s a strange woman out there.”

  “Strange how?”

  “Strange altogether. She says you know her daughter.”

  “Did she tell you her daughter’s name?”

  “Madeline something?”

  “Madeline Lane?”

  “Yes, that’s her.”

  I hadn’t seen Mad’s mother since Mad and I were kids, and to be honest, she used to scare me too, back then.

  “Ask her to come in, please, Jules.”

  Delilah Lane’s hair was streaked a dozen different colours. She had a mouth full of gum, and was wearing a skirt which was several years too short for her. The red mascara and green lipstick weren’t really working.

  “Look at you, Jill. All grown up. I see you managed to grow some boobs eventually.”

  Did I mention that Mad’s mum used to delight in embarrassing me, and all the other kids?

  “Hello, Mrs Lane. How are you keeping?”

  “Can’t complain. Well I could, but nobody wants to know about my varicose veins. Would you like some gum?”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “What’s that ugly looking thing?”

  “That’s Winky.”

  He hissed at her.

  “I lost my cat, Cleopatra, recently.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. How old was she when she died?”

  “She isn’t dead. I just lost her. I took her to the vets to get her claws clipped, and left her on the bus. I tried lost property, but no one had handed her in. I did get a nice umbrella from there, though.”

  “What brings you here today, Mrs Lane?”

  “It’s about time you stopped calling me ‘Mrs’. Now you’re all grown up. Call me Deli.”

  “Okay, Deli. What brings you here today?”

  “Madeline asked me to come.”

  “Oh? Where is she?”

  “At the police station.”