Witch Is Why The Owl Returned (A Witch P.I. Mystery Book 21) 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 Owl Returned

  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

  “Is the mirror broken?” I said.

  “Which mirror?” Jack looked up from his bowl of muesli.

  “Your shaving-mirror.”

  “No. Why?”

  “I assumed you must have been shaving blind, judging by the number of cuts on your face.”

  “I’m still half asleep. I didn’t get home until about one.”

  “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I know. You never stopped snoring.”

  “I do not snore. I have never snored.”

  “Sorry, my mistake. We must have an injured animal hiding in the bedroom. Maybe I should check the wardrobes?”

  “I do not snore. What were you working on that kept you out so late?”

  “Nothing, as it turned out. There was a report of a body in the canal. Half of the station was down there, but it turned out to be a shop mannequin floating on the water.”

  “How could anyone not know the difference between a body and a mannequin?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. Although, in fairness, it is pitch black on that stretch of the canal. All of the street lights have been out for months now. What about you? Are you up to anything exciting at the moment?”

  “Not really. Unless you consider going over my year-end accounts with Luther exciting.”

  “Have you had a good year?”

  “Define ‘good’.”

  “Did you end up in profit?”

  “Don’t you remember I told you that profits are so passé?”

  “You did tell me that, but I’m not sure I believe it. Did you at least do better than last year?”

  “Of course. Much better.”

  “Are you working on any cases at the moment?”

  “Not really, but that’s how it’s always been: peaks and troughs. There’s no telling who or what might come through my door today. Anyway, why are we talking about work? I thought we’d made a pact to keep work out of the home?”

  “You’re right, sorry. I just wanted to say that I’m really chuffed that you and Mum hit it off the second time around.”

  “Me too. I like Yvonne.”

  “When I look at Mum and Dad, it makes me realise that I want the same kind of relationship for us. They’ve been together for so long, and yet they’re as close now as they’ve always been. And do you know what the secret to their success is?”

  “Matching jumpers?”

  “It’s honesty. They’ve never had any secrets. Mum knows everything about Dad, and vice versa.”

  Oh yeah. Apart from the whole witchfinder thing. “You can’t possibly know that.”

  “Of course I do. They tell each other everything—absolutely everything. They never keep secrets from one another.”

  “Look, I get that you think the world of your parents, and so do I. They’re both great, but how can you possibly know that your father doesn’t have some deep, dark secret that he’s never told your mother? She’d never know and neither would you.”

  “You can’t live with someone for that long, and still keep a secret from them. It’s impossible. You saw how they are together at the anniversary party.” He grinned. “Speaking of which, it’s our anniversary soon.”

  “What anniversary?”

  “It’s two years since we first met.”

  “Is it? Are you sure? It feels like much longer.”

  “I’m positive. I have a note in my diary.”

  “What diary? You don’t keep a diary.”

  “I’ve always kept one.”

  “You’re making it up. Show me.”

  He walked out into the hallway, and returned with a small black book. “Here it is.”

  “That just goes to prove my point.”

  “What point?”

  “That it’s possible to keep secrets from someone you live with.”

  “My diary isn’t a secret.”

  “How come I’ve never seen it, then?”

  “I always keep it in my jacket pocket.”

  “And when do you write in it?”

  “I don’t do it every day. Only when there’s something noteworthy.”

  “Oh? Meeting me was noteworthy, was it?”

  “Of course it was.”

  “Ah, that’s sweet.” I gave him a peck on the lips. “Hold on. If it was two years ago, how come you still have that same diary?”

  “It’s a five-year one.”

  “Let me have a look.”

  “No. It’s private.”

  “I thought you just said that you had no secrets.”

  “But this is my diary. That’s different.”

  “No, it isn’t. You either believe in no secrets or you don’t. Which is it to be?”

  “Alright, but when you read the entry, just keep in mind that I’d only just met you.”

  “Okay. Let me see.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to read too much into what I wrote back then.”

  “Just give it here.” I snatched it from his hand, and flicked back to a date two years earlier. There was room for five days’ entries on each page, which explained why the diary was so thin. All the entries were blank, so I flicked forward a few pages.

  “Met Jill Gooder—a P.I. A real smartass. She is going to be trouble?” I glared at him.

  “I warned you.”

  I couldn’t keep up the straight face. “It’s okay. I don’t keep a diary, but if I did, I’m pretty sure I would have said much worse about you.”

  “Are you telling me it wasn’t love at first sight for you?” He grinned. “I’m hurt.”
<
br />   “You do realise what this diary means, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “You owe me a secret.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve kept a secret diary ever since we’ve been together. That means you owe me a secret.”

  “Do you have any?”

  “No, but if I did, you couldn’t complain about it because it would just make us even.”

  “Can I have my diary back?”

  “Perhaps I should take a look through it to check if there are any other women mentioned in here?”

  “Give it here.” He snatched it back.

  “What are we going to do to celebrate our anniversary?” I said.

  “I thought we might have a night out somewhere.”

  “As long as you’re paying.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  ***

  Not long after Jack had left for work, Kathy phoned.

  “I need your advice, Jill.”

  “Very funny. Why did you really call?”

  “It’s true. I really would appreciate your advice. I’ve been offered a new job.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a new shop which is going to open just up the road from Ever. Do you remember that shop where they served the weird drinks through those enormous straws?”

  “The Final Straw?”

  “Yeah, that was it. A company called YarnStormers has bought their old place.”

  “You’ve been headhunted?”

  “It looks like it. From what they’ve told me so far, it sounds as though they have big plans.”

  “I take it from the name that they’ll be competition for Ever?”

  “Yeah. Your grandmother will be livid when she finds out that they’re opening.”

  “Doesn’t she know yet?”

  “She can’t do or I’d have heard about it.”

  “She’ll go ballistic if you decide to take the job.”

  “Do you think I should?”

  “I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

  “I value your opinion.”

  “Since when?”

  “Come on, Jill.”

  “What does Peter think?”

  “He says I should go for it.”

  “Why don’t we consider the pros and cons? First the pros: I assume it will be more money?”

  “Quite a bit more.”

  “If you’re the manager, you’ll be the one doling out the orders instead of taking them from Grandma.”

  “That would be nice. I wouldn’t have to worry about covering a tea room and roof terrace either. I’d just have the shop to look after.”

  “And then of course, there’s the biggest plus of all.”

  “Which is?”

  “No Grandma.”

  “That’s a really big plus.” She laughed. “But there are some cons as well.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’d have to work longer hours, so I’d have to find a way to make that work with the kids.”

  “Will you be able to do that?”

  “I should be able to sort something out. Also, there’ll be more pressure because I’ll be the one responsible for everything.”

  “You can handle that, can’t you?”

  “I think so. At least I would be the one making the decisions. But the thing that worries me most is what kind of reaction I’ll get from your grandmother. She’s only just given me a pay rise.”

  “I’d forgotten about that. Still, this is your life. You have to make the right decision for you and your family. If Grandma doesn’t like it, she’ll just have to lump it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one who has to tell her that you’re leaving.”

  “Does that mean you’ve decided to take the job?”

  “Not one-hundred per cent. I don’t have to let YarnStormers know straight away. Pete and I will need to give it more thought before I make a final decision.”

  “Let me know what you decide. If you are going to take it, I want to make sure I’m not around when Grandma finds out. Now, while I’ve got you, I wanted to ask if Lizzie had said anything about our visit to Washbridge House? I got the impression she didn’t really enjoy herself.”

  “She was a bit disappointed, that’s all. She reckons there wasn’t a single ghost there. To be honest, I was hoping she might have got over this crazy obsession with ghosts by now, but there’s no sign of it ending.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. She’s bound to grow out of it soon enough. Oh well, I suppose I’d better be making tracks. Good luck with your job deliberations.”

  Mad and I had taken Lizzie to Washbridge House because it was supposedly haunted. Except that it wasn’t. If there had been any ghosts, we would have seen them. Mad had always been able to see ghosts, and since I’d learned how to travel to Ghost Town, I also had the ability to see them at will. None of us had seen any. After we’d dropped a disappointed Lizzie back home, Mad and I discussed the possible reasons for the total absence of ghosts. We came to the conclusion that the rumour about the house being haunted must have been started by the owners to attract more visitors.

  ***

  When I pulled up at the toll booth, Mr Ivers was dressed in a smart suit, and was acting rather strangely. And when I say strangely, I mean even by his standards. Instead of sitting next to the kiosk window, he was standing side on, with his hand stretched out towards me. I couldn’t drop the cash into his hand because for some unfathomable reason, he had his palm face-down.

  “Mr Ivers!”

  “Jill? I didn’t notice you there.”

  That was clearly a lie because we had made eye-contact as I’d driven towards the booth.

  “You’re looking very debonair today, Mr Ivers.”

  “This?” He brushed the lapel with his hand. “This is just some old suit I threw on.”

  It clearly wasn’t. It was quite obviously new, and looked very expensive.

  “Mr Ivers.” I had to prompt him because his hand was still palm-down. “Don’t you want the toll fee?”

  “You’re probably wondering about the watch.” He pushed his hand closer to my face, and for the first time I noticed his timepiece.

  “That looks expensive.”

  “It was, but worth every penny, wouldn’t you say?”

  I’d seen Jack drooling over watches like that one, and they didn’t come cheap. It must have cost somewhere in the region of two thousand pounds.

  “It’s very nice. Did you come into some money?”

  “In a manner of speaking. My new newsletter, Toppers News, is selling like hot cakes. Norman, at Top Of The World, can barely keep pace with demand.”

  “Congratulations.” Who would have thought there were so many toppers (nutters) out there?

  “I’ve been invited to ToppersCon next week, to sign copies of the newsletter for my fans.”

  “Is that some kind of convention?”

  “The biggest in the country for Toppers. There’ll be thousands there. I have a spare ticket, if you’d care to accompany me.”

  “I’d love to, but I’m so busy at the moment that I won’t be able to make it. You should try and catch Jack—I’m sure he’d love to go.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Oh yeah. He absolutely loves bottle tops.”

  “Great. I’ll keep a look out for him.”

  That was my anniversary present to Jack sorted then.

  Snigger.

  Chapter 2

  It was Jules’ day off, so Mrs V was by herself in the office. For once, she wasn’t knitting; instead she had lots of papers spread out over both desks.

  “Morning, Jill. Lovely morning.”

  “It’s cold and raining.”

  “But apart from that—quite lovely.”

  “You look busy, Mrs V.”

  “I am, dear. I’ve found myself a new hobby.”

  “Instead of knitting?”

  “Don’t be silly. Nothing
could ever replace my affection for yarn, but I do now have something else to occupy myself while I’m here.”

  “As well as your work, you mean?”

  “What work?”

  “Good point. What is it you’re up to?”

  “I’m tracing my family tree. Armi got me into it. He’s managed to trace his own family back through five generations.”

  “Did he find any skeletons in the cupboard?”

  “Not really. It would appear that his family have always been involved with the law. Most of them were solicitors of one kind or another.”

  “Have you managed to make much progress with your own family tree?”

  “Not so far, but then I did only start a few days ago. Have you ever thought of tracing your ancestry, Jill?”

  “No. It doesn’t really interest me.”

  “You really should. You might find something surprising.”

  More surprising than having a witch for a mother, and a wizard for a father? Somehow, I doubted it.

  When I walked into my office, Winky was on the sofa; he seemed engrossed in something on his phone. His little paws were tapping the screen so fast, it was a wonder he didn’t break it.

  “Morning, Winky.”

  “Shush! I’m busy.”

  Charming. “What are you up to?”

  “Can’t talk now. I’m at a critical stage.”

  “Of what?”

  “B.U.S.Y.”

  “Okay, okay. Keep your fur on.”

  After the con trick he’d played on me with the Salmon Emporium, I should have known better than to pay him any attention. That still didn’t stop me wanting to know what he was up to.

  I’d barely had chance to sort through my pencils before Mrs V came through to my office.

  “Jill, I’m ever so sorry, but last Friday, I forgot to mention that a Mrs Brownling called. I booked her in for an appointment with you this morning, but then forgot to add it to the diary.”

  “Never mind. It’s not like I’m run off my feet. What time is she due?”

  “She’s actually here now.”

  “Okay. You’d better send her in.”

  Mrs V glanced at Winky. “I really don’t know why you let that stupid cat have your phone. He’ll break it.”

  “You’re right.” I walked over to the sofa, and snatched it from him.

  Before he could complain, Mrs V had shown Mrs Brownling in. She was a tall woman with greying hair, and a nice line in fingerless gloves.