Witch Is When the Bubble Burst (6 page)

Chapter 9

It wasn’t difficult to track down Rachel Nixon. Just as Bob Dale had suggested, she shared a flat which was within walking distance of my office. I didn’t have a phone number for her, and I didn’t want to trouble her at university or at her place of work, so I figured an early morning visit to her flat might be my best option.

A young woman answered the door in a tee-shirt and boxer shorts. It looked like she’d only just crawled out of bed.

“Rachel Nixon?”

“No. She’s in her room.”

The young woman, who appeared to be nursing a hangover, ushered me inside and pointed to a door to the left.

I knocked.

“Just a minute.”

The young woman who answered this door looked altogether more with it. She was dressed, and looked as though she was getting ready to leave.

“Rachel Nixon?”

“Yeah. Who are you?” Her tone was more curious than confrontational.

“My name is Jill—”

“It’s the private investigator I told you about.” The man’s voice came from inside her room. Moments later, Steve Lister appeared at her shoulder.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi?” Finding him there had thrown me a little.

“I’ve told Rachel that I’ve asked you to investigate.”

“Right. Good. You didn’t mention Rachel when you came to see me.”

“Didn’t I? Sorry. My head is so mixed up. I thought I had.”

Steve was dressed. I wasn’t sure if he’d been there all night or had arrived that morning.

“Do you have time to answer a few questions?” I asked Rachel.

“Sure. My first lecture isn’t for another hour.”

“Do you need me to stay?” Steve asked.

“No. I’d prefer to speak to Rachel alone.”

“No problem.” He gave Rachel a quick peck on the cheek, and said, “I’ll call you later.”

After he’d gone, I deliberately said nothing for a few seconds, hoping that Rachel might feel compelled to fill the silence.

“Do you think you can find Amanda?” she said, at last.

“I’m going to do my best. How well do you know Steve?”

“Steve and I hit it off from the moment he and Amanda started dating. He’s a top guy—Amanda did good.”

“Does he often come over?”

“Yeah. He and Amanda spend a lot of time here.”

“Does that cause any friction with your flatmate?”

“No why would it? You met Carly, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. She looked pretty hungover.”

“She always is.”

“So, have you and Amanda known each other a long time?”

“We went to school together. We were inseparable.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, is your family wealthy?”

“Wealthy enough to send me to a private school—that’s where we became friends, but not rich like Amanda’s family. That’s what I liked about her. She never had any airs and graces. Never talked about the money or flaunted it like some of the kids did. She was—” Rachel caught herself. “I mean ‘is’. She’s my best friend. You
will
find her won’t you? I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her.”

***

I left more confused than when I’d arrived. Why hadn’t Steve mentioned Rachel? Had he simply forgotten to tell me or was there more to their relationship than he was letting on? Neither of them had appeared the slightest bit awkward about being found together. Either it was completely innocent or they were both exceptional actors.

I was no further on than when Steve first came to see me. It all hinged on the ransom note, but so far there wasn’t one. Or was there? Was it possible that the Banks’ had received a note and had chosen, or been told by Maxwell, to keep it quiet—even from Bob Dale? I could always use magic to get inside the police station to see if they knew more than they were saying, but I didn’t want to do anything that would risk antagonising Maxwell if I could avoid it.

The headline on the front page of the Bugle read,
‘Is Amanda Dead?’
.

I resented handing my money to that loathsome rag, but I bit the bullet and bought the morning edition. It was, as I’d expected, up to their usual high standards. It was basically a rehash of the story which they had run twice already. There was no new information—they’d simply changed the angle. According to the Bugle the fact that no ransom note had been received wasn’t good news, and probably meant that Amanda Banks was dead. Unfortunately, there was a good chance they could be right. The whole point of a kidnapping of this kind—one which involved a wealthy family—was to extort cash. The only reason I could come up with for no ransom demand being received was that Amanda had been killed—possibly while trying to escape. But even then I would have expected them to try to get some money from the family. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. To have heard nothing at all, simply didn’t make a lick of sense.

***

“Why do I have to go?” Barry could do ‘pathetic’ better than any dog I’d ever known.

“You’ll learn things.”

“Why do I need to go to an obedience class though? I’m not naughty, am I?”

Now I felt bad. “No you’re not naughty—”

“Then why?”

“You can be a little boisterous at times.”

“What does boy’s truss mean?” Barry looked even more confused than he usually did.

“Boisterous. It means naughty,” Grandma offered helpfully.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” She cackled then took her leave.

“See!” Barry whined. “You do think I’m naughty.”

I needed to try a different tack.

“Do you like to go to the park?”

“The park! It’s my favourite. I love to go to the park. Can we go now?”

“No. If you don’t take the obedience classes, you won’t be able to go to the park ever again.”

“Why? That’s not fair!”

“It’s the new rules. All dogs have to go to obedience class or they won’t be allowed in the park.”

Barry sighed.

“What can I do?” I said. “My hands are tied.” What? Don’t judge. I’m allowed to lie if it’s for his own good.

‘No Bones About It’ held classes in a large hall not far away from Cuppy C. There were ten of us in all: three witches, three vampires, two werewolves and two goblins. The dogs were a mix of breeds. A Rottweiler barked at Barry when he got a little too close to him.

“I don’t like him,” Barry said, cowering behind my legs.

“He’s probably nervous. Don’t get too close to him.”

The woman who appeared through a door at the back of the hall would have given Grandma a run for her money in the ugly stakes. What? It’s not my fault she looked liked she’d taken a tumble out of the ugly tree.

“Right then!” She barked. “Can I have quiet, please?”

Barry chose that moment to bark back at the Rottweiler.

“Barry! Shush!”

“Ladies, gentlemen and canines. Welcome to ‘No Bones About It’. My name is Gretchen Bone.”

I laughed—no one else did. I tried to cover it with a cough, but judging by the look on Gretchen Bone’s face, I’d failed. Surely that couldn’t be her real name?

“This is a ten week course. By the end of which, you will have a dog which is obedient and a credit to you. That is of course if you follow my instructions to the letter. Do you all understand?”

Everyone, apart from me, said, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Ma’am? Who called anyone Ma’am these days, and how come everyone else knew what to say when I didn’t?

“What’s your name?” she shouted at someone.

“I said, what’s your name?” she shouted even louder.

Oh bum! The Bone was talking to me.

“What’s
my
name?”

“You do know your name, I assume?”

“Sorry, yes. I didn’t know if you meant my name or the dog’s.”

“I’m looking at you, aren’t I?”

“Sorry. It’s Jill. Jill Gooder.”

“Oh, you’re that new witch, aren’t you?”

“Err—yes.”

“Well, Jill Gooder. Did you receive the letter which I send out to all those who enrol on the course?”

“Yes.”

“And did you read it?”

“Err—yes.”

“All of it?”

“Err—I think so.” I’d looked at it to find out the date and time of the course, but I hadn’t bothered to read the rest.

“If you had, then you’d know what I expect from those who attend my classes. Top of the list is that you address me as ‘Ma’am’ at all times.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

She glared at me.

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

“That’s better. I suggest that tonight you take the time to study the papers I sent to you.”

“Yes, sorry. I will.”

Another glare.

“Ma’am.”

“It’s good here, isn’t it?” Barry whispered.

“Okay,” The Bone said. “First of all, I’d like to see each of you walk with your dog on the lead. Try to get him to walk to heel.”

“Did you hear that Barry?” I whispered.

“Walk to heel. Got it.” He scratched his ear. “What’s that mean again?”

I was the last to go. I was a little less anxious because several of the other dogs had failed to obey the command. The Bone had been quite understanding, and she’d reassured the owners that their dogs would be able to do it perfectly by the end of the course.

“Now you, Gooder.” The Bone fixed me with her gaze. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Barry.”

“Barry?” She laughed, and everyone else joined in. Cheek!

“Right Gooder. Let’s see how you and Barry do.”

Much to my surprise and relief, Barry walked to heel perfectly. I was thrilled until The Bone began to yell. At me!

“You’re walking much too quickly—slow down!”

“You’re walking too slowly now—speed up.”

“Longer paces!”

“Shorter paces!”

“Hold the lead higher.”

“The lead is too loose!”

“Now it’s too tight!”

By the time we’d completed the circuit, my head was spinning.

“Well done, Barry!” The Bone crouched down, rubbed Barry under the chin, and gave him a treat from her pocket. “You did very well—under the circumstances.” Her gaze switched to me when she said the word ‘circumstances’. “You, Gooder, on the other hand, have a long way to go.”

“Right, sorry—err—Ma’am.”

That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the session. The Bone would set us a task, Barry would do it perfectly, and The Bone would yell at me. By the end of the class all the other participants were giving me pitying looks.

“That was good!” Barry said, as we walked back to Cuppy C. “I like Mrs Bone—she gave me treats. When can we go again?”

“We are never setting foot in that place ever again.”

“But you said—”

“Shush, and be obedient.”

Chapter 10

When I saw I had a voicemail from Bob Dale, I assumed it would be about the Bugle’s article. I was wrong. When I called him back, he had much more significant news. A ransom note had been received. Except that he didn’t use the word
‘received’
. Instead, he said the note had been
‘found’
.

“So no one saw who delivered the note?” I said.

Bob was riding one of his horses when I rang. He was in the countryside somewhere, and the reception on his phone was patchy.

“No. Dexter Banks found the note. I’m not sure of the details yet, but I know no one saw it being delivered.”

“How come he told you anyway? I thought you and he weren’t on speaking terms? Did your wife tell you?”

“No. It was Dexter himself, but there’s a reason for that. The note specifies that I must be the one to deliver the ransom.”

“Any idea why they asked for you?”

“No, but I’m happy to do it if it gets Amanda back.”

“What about the money?”

“The money isn’t a problem for Dexter. He’s had a huge amount on standby ever since he knew Amanda had been kidnapped.”

“What do the police have to say?”

“They’re happy for me to make the drop. They’re going to follow me.”

“What does Dexter think about that?”

“He seems remarkably relaxed about it. I thought he’d object to them following, but he seems okay with it.”

“When is the drop?”

“Sunday.”

“How will they let you know where to take it?”

“I already know. The note specified where the money was to be dropped.”

That made no sense. The kidnappers must have realised that would give the police time to set up surveillance around the area, and to plan how best to seal it off once the cash had been collected. Either the kidnappers were rank amateurs or they were ultra smart and I was missing something.

“I’ll follow you too,” I said.

“Okay, but don’t let the police spot you. The guy in charge asked if the family had brought anyone else in.”

“Jack Maxwell?”

“Yeah. That’s him. We told him no one else was involved.”

“Good. What about Steve? Does he know about the ransom note?”

“He does, but only because I told him. Dexter and Patty wouldn’t have bothered.”

***

I’d asked Grandma if she’d give the twins the benefit of her marketing expertise to help them compete with the new cake shop. As I’d expected, she’d given me a hard time, and had wanted to know why she should bother. After a major charm offensive—okay I crawled, begged and pleaded—she finally agreed to give them a few minutes of her precious time. I hoped the twins appreciated the sacrifice I’d had to make. I suppose I should have been grateful I hadn’t had to tend to her bunions as part of the deal.

“How did the dog obedience classes go?” Pearl grinned. Something told me Barry had been talking behind my back.

“Okay, thanks.”

“That’s good.” Amber was grinning all over her face. “Because we have a ‘bone’ to pick with you.”

“You two have been talking to Barry, haven’t you?”

“You have to admit it’s funny.” Pearl giggled. “It sounds like you’re the one who needs training.”

“That woman didn’t know what she was talking about. I won’t be going back.”

“Ahh. Poor Barry.” Amber smirked.

“Never mind Barry. How’s the cake shop doing? Still struggling with the competition?” I gestured across the road.

“Business has picked up a little,” Pearl said, more serious now. “But it’s still only at about sixty percent of what it was before
that
creep opened his shop.” She scowled, and I turned to see Miles Best staring back at her—he had a huge smile on his face. “He thinks he’s so smart. I’d like to wipe that stupid grin off his face.”

“Did you ask Grandma if she’d give us some marketing tips?” Amber said.

“I did. You two owe me big time. That’s why I’m here this morning. She said she’d come over to get the marketing campaign rolling.”

“Thanks, Jill. You’re a saviour.”

“Yeah, thanks Jill. By the way, how are things with you and Drake?”

“They aren’t. I’m not sure what I should do about him.”

Drake Tyson and I had seen each other a few times. Nothing serious—not even what you might call an ‘official’ date. Then, just as things had started to look promising, I’d discovered he was a Rogue wizard who had been jailed for crimes committed in the human world. I’d dropped him unceremoniously only to discover from his brother, Raven, that Drake had actually been innocent all along. He’d been covering for his younger brother. I felt terrible for the way I’d treated him, but wasn’t sure how to make it right or if I should just leave things as they were.

“You should get in touch with him,” Amber said, once I’d brought them up to speed.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t even give him a chance to put his side of the story.”

“You have to try,” Pearl said. “He’s really hot.”

“This is all very interesting I’m sure.” Grandma barged her way past the three of us. “But if you put as much effort into running this shop, as you waste discussing silly boys, then you wouldn’t need my help.”

“Sorry, Grandma.”

“Sorry.”

“Right, well listen up. Today is the start of the Cuppy C marketing campaign. You’ll be pleased to know that you’ll be following a tried and tested methodology which has already proven successful in the launch of Ever A Wool Moment. So, are you ready to start?”

“Yes, Grandma,” Amber and Pearl said in unison.

She snapped her fingers and suddenly her arms were full of—what? I wasn’t exactly sure.

“These are costumes which I’ve had specially made.” She held one of them up to show us.

“It’s a cupcake,” Amber said.

“It is indeed a cupcake. And these are ‘twenty per cent off’ leaflets.”

“Who’s going to wear those?” Pearl asked, but I had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Who do you think?”

“Grandma,” Pearl whined. “Everyone will take the mickey.”

“No one will know it’s you once you have them on.”

“How do we see—or breathe?”

“There are tiny slots. Here look!”

“They look heavy.”

“Stop your whining and get them on.”

The twins looked to me for help.

I shrugged. “I think you’ll look good in them.” I couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“I’m glad you think so, Jill,” Grandma said. “Because I have three costumes.”

Now it was the twins’ turn to laugh.

It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t funny. I’d had to grovel in order to persuade Grandma to help, but I would never have done it if I’d realised I’d have to dress up in that stupid costume.

“I can’t breathe,” I said.

“Stop complaining.” Grandma waved her hand dismissively. “Breathing is overrated.”

The three of us looked ridiculous. The bottom of the costume was so tight around our legs we could only waddle like penguins. The only saving grace was that Kathy wasn’t there to see me.

“I’ve just taken a photo of the three of you to show to your sister.” Grandma waved her camera in front of me. Great! Kathy would never let me hear the end of it. Unless—I could always deny it was me. She’d never know.

“I took one earlier too,” Grandma said. “When you were putting the costumes on.”

“Thanks.”

Out on the street, the three of us waddled up and down, handing out flyers and doing our best to ignore all of the snide comments. I noticed that Miles Best was standing outside his shop, and although he appeared to be laughing at us, I thought I saw a look of concern every now and then. Whatever my feelings about the costume, I couldn’t deny that the flyers were doing the trick. There was a steady procession of people going into Cuppy C to buy the discounted cakes. The remaining staff had their work cut out to keep up with demand.

I spotted her when she was no more than a few yards away. I’d first met Alicia, aka Tess, in a park in Candlefield. She’d befriended me, and we’d met for coffee in Washbridge where she’d supposedly worked as a lawyer—that had turned out to be a lie. She’d poisoned me to try to keep me from competing in the Levels Competition. I could have died—not that she would have cared. I had no proof as yet, but had my suspicions that she was working for The Dark One or TDO as most people referred to him.

TDO was the most powerful of sups although his identity was unknown. He wanted me dead and had already made a number of attempts on my life. Quite recently, an ex-journalist who had claimed to have information on TDO had been found dead minutes before I was due to meet with him. He’d been murdered in Magpie place. Shortly after that I’d received an anonymous card—on the front of which was a picture of a magpie standing in a pool of blood.

“Is that you in there, Jill?” Alicia said, her face only inches away from mine.

“What do
you
want?”

“I must say that costume suits you.” She laughed. “And it saves us all from having to look at your ugly face.”

Before I could respond, she pushed me over her outstretched leg. I lost my balance and the next thing I knew, I was rolling down the street.

“Help!”

I was rolling faster and faster; I was getting dizzier and dizzier.

“Help!” I hit the lamppost with a thud. “Ouch!”

Moments later, the twins who had abandoned their costumes, were helping me out of mine.

“She did it on purpose,” Amber said, gesturing towards Alicia who was almost out of sight now.

“Are you okay?” Pearl took my hand.

“I’m fine. Just a little dizzy.”

“That woman is a horror.”

“Don’t worry about her,” I said. “I’ll get my own back. Just see if I don’t.”

***

When the twins totalled the takings at the end of the day, they weren’t just back to pre-Best Cakes levels, they were the highest single day of the year. Grandma, the marketing genius, had struck again. The twins drew up a rota which meant that they, and all their staff, would take turns to dress up in the cupcake costumes every day for the next week. I insisted that I’d really like to do my bit, but I had pressing business in Washbridge. I’m not sure they believed me, but they didn’t push it.

“It’s Mum’s birthday next week.” Amber took a bite out of one of the few remaining cakes.

“Aunt Lucy? How old is she?”

“Don’t ask her that whatever you do.” Pearl laughed. “She stopped having birthdays after she turned five hundred.”

Aunt Lucy had explained to me that witches lived many times longer than humans. It was weird to think I could still be alive when Kathy’s great, great, great, great, great, great grandchildren were born. “Is she having a party?”

“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.”

“I don’t like the sound of this.”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Amber and me thought we’d organise a surprise party for her.”

“Are you sure? Will she like that?” Kathy had once organised one for me, and I’d hated every minute.

“She’ll love it. Mum loves a good party.”

“We’ve told Lester, and he’s on board.”

“So what do you need me to do?”

“We’re all going to pretend we’re busy on her birthday, so she doesn’t think she’s going to see any of us. We need you to come over and take her out while we set things up. When you come back we’ll all be waiting for her.”

“How am I meant to get her out of the house? Where should I take her? And what about Grandma?”

“What about her?” Amber polished off the last few crumbs.

“She’ll let the cat out of the bag for sure. And, knowing her, she’ll do it on purpose.”

“We won’t tell her,” Pearl said.

“Have you forgotten she can read our minds?”

“We’ve already thought of that,” Amber said. “And we have a cunning plan—ice cream!”

“Huh?”

“All of us have to agree that whenever we are in Grandma’s company between now and the party, all we think about is ice cream.”

“Why ice cream?” I asked.

“Why not? It’s as good as anything. So remember, whenever Grandma is around, think about ice cream.”