Witch Is Why The Wolf Howled (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 18) Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 25

  Witch Is Why

  The Wolf Howled

  Published by Implode Publishing Ltd

  © Implode Publishing Ltd 2017

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 1

  “Jack?”

  “Yes, my sweet?”

  “Don’t give me ‘my sweet’. Where’s the bread?”

  “Isn’t it in the bread bin?”

  “It’s empty.”

  “Oh yeah. I remember now. I had a sandwich last night, before I turned in.”

  “And used the last two slices? The two I’d earmarked for my toast this morning?”

  “I didn’t notice a ‘reserved’ sign on them.”

  “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Cornflakes?”

  “I had my heart set on toast.”

  “Sorry.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Got to rush. I have an early meeting.”

  “What about my toast?” I called after him, but he was already through the door.

  “What’s wrong, Jill?” Barry said.

  “I’m sharing my life with a selfish man.”

  “Shell fish? What kind of shell fish?”

  “No, not—never mind. Oh, well, if I want toast, I suppose I’ll have to—”

  I caught myself just in time. If I’d mentioned going out, Barry would have been at me to take him for a walk. I didn’t have time for that, and besides, Jack had already taken him out that morning. I threw a couple of Barkies, Barry’s favourite treats, into the kitchen, and then grabbed my coat and hurried outside.

  “Morning, Jill!” Mrs Rollo was in her front garden.

  “Morning.”

  “Off to work?”

  “Not just yet. I have to nip down to the shop. You’re out and about early, today.”

  “I’m so excited I just can’t settle. I barely slept a wink last night.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “My brother is coming over for a visit. He arrives later today.”

  “That’s nice. Does he live far from here?”

  “In Australia.”

  “Gosh. How long is it since you last saw him?”

  “Almost eight years. He’ll be staying with me for a few days, and then travelling around the country.”

  “That’s great. I look forward to meeting him. Sorry, but I have to dash.”

  ***

  There was no sign of Toby Jugg or his wife, Judy, behind the counter of The Corner Shop.

  “Good morning, young lady!” the middle-aged man with a ruddy complexion greeted me.

  “Morning. Are Toby and Judy on holiday?”

  “Didn’t you know? They sold up and left.”

  “Really? I had no idea.”

  “From what I heard, Judy wasn’t very happy with the life of a shopkeeper.”

  “I assume you’ll be changing the shop’s name? It’s not exactly very imaginative.”

  “No, I’m definitely keeping the name. In fact, that’s what attracted me to the shop in the first place. I knew as soon as I saw it that it was meant to be.” He offered his hand. “I should introduce myself. My name is Jack. Jack Corner.”

  “Corner? Oh? I see what you mean about the shop name.”

  “Destiny, eh?”

  Suddenly, he shrank in height by at least a foot. It was only then that I realised he must have been standing on a box. I guessed that made him Little Jack Corner.

  I laughed at the thought.

  “Sorry?” He came around the counter and stood beside me.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking about something my dog said.”

  “Your dog?”

  Whoops!

  “Did I say dog? I meant neighbour.”

  Jack Corner looked confused. I seemed to have that effect on people.

  “I’m Jill Gooder. I live just up the road.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Jill. What can I get for you, today?”

  “Let me think. I’m okay for pudding, and for pie. Just a loaf of bread, please. Oh, and perhaps a packet of custard creams. Make that two packets.”

  “I adore custard creams.”

  I was warming to the little man—nursery rhyme name or not.

  He took my money, and I was just on my way out when he called me back.

  “I always like to share a thought for the day with my customers.”

  “Oh? Go on then.”

  “A bird in the hand is a silver lining.”

  Huh? “Okay, thanks for that. Bye, then.”

  On my way back home, I was conflicted. Should I go ahead with my original plan of toast for breakfast, or should I have a custard cream boost to set me up for the day?

  “Mrs Mopp?”

  She was waiting for me at the house when I got back.

  “I didn’t realise it was your day to clean.”

  “It isn’t.” She followed me inside. “I want a word.”

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “No. This won’t take long. I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be cleaning for you anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  At that moment, Barry came charging downstairs, and almost flattened me.

  “Because of that thing!” She gestured to the dog.

  “He didn’t bite you, did he?”

  “I’d never bite anyone.” Barry turned to me. “I don’t bite.”

  “Sorry, I know you don’t.”

  “I don’t what?” Mrs Mopp looked confused. “No, he didn’t bite me, but I didn’t sign up to clean a house with a dog. Dog hairs get everywhere.”

  “I suppose we could always pay a little more.”

  “No. My mind is made up. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to make alternative arrangements.”

  And with that, she left.

  “I
don’t think she likes me,” Barry said.

  “She doesn’t like anyone. She’s a funny woman.”

  “I don’t like it here, Jill. I like the other place better.”

  “You have to give it a chance. I’m sure you’ll grow to love it.”

  “I miss the park. And Babs. I miss Lucy and Hamlet too. I’m all by myself here.”

  “You’ve got me and Jack.”

  “You’re out most of the time, and I don’t think Jack likes me. “

  “Of course he does.”

  “He never talks to me.”

  “I’ve told you. That’s because he’s a human.”

  “What’s a human?”

  Oh boy!

  “Please, Jill. I want to go back to the other house. Can I? Can I, please?”

  “I—err—I have to go to work now. We’ll talk about this tonight.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. But not while Jack is around.”

  Why did my life have to be so complicated?

  In the end, I tossed a coin, and custard creams won. Tea and a custard cream for brekkie? Did it get any better than that? Actually, yes it did. How about tea and four custard creams?

  Who are you calling greedy?

  While I was munching on number three, the newspaper headline caught my eye. Despite my protests, Jack insisted on buying The Bugle once every week, for the bowling scores. Sad, I know.

  ‘Dead Fall!’

  The story related to a skydiver who had plunged to his death when his parachute had failed to open. A cold shiver ran down my spine as I recalled how close Peter had come to a similar fate. On that occasion, I’d been able to come to his rescue with a combination of magic and a haystack. Dale Thomas hadn’t been so lucky. Apparently, he and his wife, who were both experienced skydivers, jumped together that day. What an awful experience for her.

  ***

  It was Jules’ day in the office. She appeared to be away with the fairies.

  “Morning, Jules.”

  “Sorry, Jill. I was miles away.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m worried about Gilbert.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing, really. It’s like you said the other day—he’s been acting rather strangely.”

  “Strange how?”

  “He’s usually quite chatty, but these last few days, he—err—” She hesitated. “Maybe it’s just my imagination.”

  “Go on. What were you going to say?”

  “He barely speaks, and when he does, it’s like talking to a robot. I think he may have lost interest in me. He’s probably got other women chasing after him now.”

  “Now he’s not spotty you mean?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “I don’t think it’s that. He seemed really sweet on you.”

  “So why has he changed?”

  “Maybe it has something to do with his new job? When I saw him at the mall, he didn’t look very happy at all.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Do you think I should say something to him?”

  “Why don’t you leave it for a while, and see if he snaps out of it?”

  “Yeah, that might be best. Thanks, Jill.”

  I didn’t want to say any more to Jules, but my suspicionometer had been in the red zone ever since I’d first heard about Magical Skincare.

  What? Never mind what the dictionary says. Of course suspicionometer is a real word.

  It was time I took a closer look at the miracle acne treatment. I was pretty sure that magic was involved, and I was almost certain it was somehow responsible for Gilbert’s sudden personality change.

  “Good morning, Jill.” Winky greeted me with a huge smile.

  That was very disconcerting because normally, when I walked into the office in the morning, he was either fast asleep or demanding food.

  “Morning?” I glanced around. He was obviously up to something.

  “How was your weekend?”

  “Err—fine. Just the usual.” He never asked about my weekends. Something was definitely amiss.

  “And Jack? How is he?”

  “Enough! What are you up to?”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “You’re up to something. What have you done, this time?”

  “Nothing.” His smile evaporated. “And frankly, I’m disappointed that you’d doubt my sincerity. We have to share this office, so it’s only right that we should take an interest in one another.”

  “If it looks like a duck, and it sounds like a duck, then it’s almost always a duck.”

  “Now you’ve lost me. What do ducks have to do with anything?”

  “I know you, Winky. You’re up to something, and when I find out what it is, there’ll be trouble.”

  He sighed, and turned away. “I’m hurt. Truly hurt.”

  What do you mean, I’m cruel? You didn’t fall for that old flannel, did you? Sheesh, I thought you would have known him better by now.

  My phone rang. It was Kathy.

  “Jill, I’ve been thinking.”

  Never a good sign. “Oh?”

  “You and I don’t spend nearly enough time together.”

  That was a matter of opinion. “Oh?”

  “We used to chat for hours on end before I had the kids. These days, it seems like we only get the chance to grab a few words here and there.”

  “Oh?”

  “Oh? Is that all you can say?”

  “I’m just wondering where this is leading? What do you want?”

  “Well, that’s charming. Your problem, Jill, is you assume everyone has an agenda.”

  I glanced at Winky who was still sulking. Maybe Kathy was right. Perhaps, I was too quick to judge.

  “Sorry. I’ve just had a bad start to the day.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Jack ate the last two slices of bread, which I’d planned to use for my toast this morning.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Of course not. Our cleaner has quit.”

  “Why?”

  “She doesn’t like the dog.”

  “Barry? What’s not to like about him? He’s a big, soft darling.”

  “Mrs Mopp doesn’t share your views. And he’s not happy here either.”

  “The dog? How do you know?”

  “Just intuition, I guess.”

  “Okay. I’ll forgive you this time, Miss Grumpy. Anyway, as I was saying, we should spend more time together. I was thinking that we could have a sisters’ night. Pete’s got a night out arranged with an old school friend. I could ask his mother to take the kids, and we could have a night in.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather go out somewhere?”

  “I was originally going to suggest that, but we wouldn’t get a chance to talk properly because everywhere is so noisy these days. I thought we could stay in with a bottle of wine and lots of chocolates, and talk about old times.”

  I quite liked the sound of the wine and chocolates. The talk about old times, not so much.

  “What do you say?” She pressed.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  I had a horrible feeling that I’d live to regret those words.

  “Winky!”

  He was on the sofa with his back to me.

  “What?” he said, without looking around.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? I didn’t quite hear that.”

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  “I almost heard you that time.”

  “Don’t push your luck, buddy.”

  Chapter 2

  Jules came through to my office.

  “Jill, there’s a Mr Carver here. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he said he was given your name by a Mr Bob Dale.”

  I’d worked on a case when Bob Dale’s stepdaughter had been kidnapped.

  “Did he say what it was about?”

  “Something about skydiving.”

  “Okay, Jules, show him in, would you?”
/>
  “Thank you for seeing me without an appointment.” Mr Carver was tall, dark, but not particularly handsome.

  “You know Bob Dale?”

  “We’ve been friends for more years than I care to remember.” He glanced across at Winky who was on the sofa, washing himself. “I had a cat just like that.”

  I seriously doubted it. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Same colouring and only one eye. I used to call him Winky.”

  Was this some kind of windup?

  “That’s his name, too.”

  “No way. That’s unbelievable.” He walked over to Winky and began to stroke him.

  Winky lapped up the attention. He jumped off the sofa, and began to rub against Carver’s legs.

  “My Winky went out one day, and never came back.” Carver sighed. “I still miss that little rascal. The resemblance is remarkable. Where did you get him?”

  “I’ve had him since he was a kitten,” I lied.

  “I can’t get over the likeness.”

  “My receptionist said you wanted to talk to me about something to do with skydiving?”

  “Yes.” He gave Winky a final tickle under the chin, and then took a seat opposite me at the desk.

  Winky still had his purring set to max volume, so I could barely hear myself think.

  “Is it connected to the story I saw in The Bugle?” I asked.

  “Yes, it is. Dale, the deceased, is—err—was a friend of mine. My best friend, actually. We’d known one another since we were kids.”

  “The Bugle’s story said it was a tragic accident.”

  “I don’t buy that. That’s why I came to see you.”

  “But didn’t it only happen a few days ago? The police can’t have concluded their enquiries yet.”

  “Officially, they haven’t, but it’s obvious they’ve already made up their minds that it was an accident. Either that or suicide.”

  “There was no mention of suicide in the newspaper.”

  “There will be soon enough. The parachute didn’t open, but the tests show it wasn’t faulty. According to them, Dale hadn’t pulled the cord, which means either he blacked out, or chose not to pull it.”

  “Aren’t they the most likely explanations?”

  “I suppose it’s possible he blacked out. But, suicide? Never. No way.”

  “Do you think there might have been foul play?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I’d like you to find out, but you’ll need to do it now, before the trail goes cold. Can you get straight onto it?”