Spelling Mistake (The Kitchen Witch Book 4) (11 page)

Chapter 22

Thyme and I crouched in a thick wattle bush, a prickly bush at that. We were both wearing black, which Thyme said would make us less noticeable, but I thought made us look like bank robbers with poor taste in clothes.

The Hardens’ house was at the end of a long lane. It was an unremarkable house, broad blue weatherboards above a deep red brick base, and could have been pretty with a little care and attention—and a lot of paint. As it was, it appeared to be entirely neglected. Withering jasmine had constricted the down pipes. Yellowed lace curtains hung from dreary windows. The only sound was from native birds and two curious sheep that peered at us through the wire fence.

Thyme handed me a pair of gloves. “Put these on.”

I did as she asked. I was still puffing from cutting cross-country. “What do we do now?” I whispered to Thyme.

“We make sure no one is watching us,” she whispered back.

Given that the Hardens’ house was down the end of a lane, so I couldn’t see who could be looking at us, apart from some wood ducks, birds, and the two sheep. I pointed this out to Thyme, and she agreed that we could proceed. Just as we moved off, a kookaburra in the eucalyptus tree above us laughed raucously.

We hurried around the side of the house, and found an open window. This was no surprise, given that people in the country as a rule did not lock their houses, not in by Bayberry Creek anyway.

Suddenly, a man appeared in front of me. I screamed. Thyme clamped her hand over my mouth.

“Great Dark Witch, how may I assist you?”

“Please go away!” I said when Thyme removed her hand.

“Have I done something to offend you, Great One?”

“Aren’t you supposed to do what I say?” I said. “Go away, right now.”

Fred vanished. Thyme patted my back. “You got rid of him easily that time.”

“I just have to figure out how to get rid of him for good,” I said. “Can you give me a boost? I think I could fit through that window.”

Thyme looked doubtful. “Don’t you think I should do it?”

I frowned. “Why?”

She shrugged and then pushed me hard through the small opening in the sash window. “Amelia, have you put on weight?”

“No!” I lied, thinking of my back cleavage. “I’ve gained muscles, not fat.”

Thyme sniggered and then tried to disguise it with a cough.

With one more shove from Thyme, I landed hard on the floor. “Ouch! That hurt!”

“Quick, let me in through the back door!” Thyme whispered.

I picked myself off the shag pile carpet, a particularly hideous shade of burned orange that looked as though it needed a thorough clean, and hurried to the back door. I was thankful I didn’t encounter any dogs. I had some treats in my pocket just in case, but so far it didn’t seem as if I’d need to use them.

“This house is so 70’s,” I said, looking at the orange countertops and the patterned tiles.

“We’re not here to look for evidence of decorating crimes,” Thyme said smugly as she walked into the kitchen.

“I don’t want to be here at all,” I reminded her.

“You’ll thank me when we find evidence that it was Henry and not Fred who killed Scott.”

I nodded, wiping my hands on my jeans. I was in a cold sweat, and my heart was beating out of my chest. “Can you check your phone again, Thyme?”

She sighed. “It’s still on, just like it was the last time you asked me a minute ago.”

I pulled a face. “I don’t fancy going to prison.”

“Well then, let’s get out of here as fast as we can. Do you have your USB on you?”

I pulled it out of my pocket and waved it at her. “I don’t know what good it’ll do. I don’t know his passwords, and I’m not a hacker.”

Thyme ignored my remark. “That looks like an office through that door. How about you go in there, and I’ll take the bedroom and the rest of the house?”

I hurried into the office. It was a depressing room, musty and dimly lit. The only light was provided by a small sash window over which were draped the most hideous curtains I had ever seen -- paisley patterned in shades of mustard. I pulled open the desk drawer, which thankfully wasn’t locked, and looked through the papers. They were mostly electricity and phone bills, along with some tax papers.

There was a large iMac sitting on the edge of the messy desk, so I wondered if all the information was on that. Having the power off wasn’t such a benefit, after all. A laptop was sitting next to it. I opened it, and to my surprise, all the windows opened. I couldn’t believe my luck. It must have been left on. What’s more, the power icon showed it still had an hour of battery remaining. I inserted the USB and then looked for information.

I found Henry’s email and clicked on it, and thankfully his user name and password autopopulated. He had dozens of email folders that did not appear to be labeled accurately. I didn’t want to waste time scrolling through those, so I opened his documents.

There it was! It was all laid out perfectly: the minutiae of how much and when he had paid Scott—I winced when I saw the figure—and the numbers of the account in Belize.

My hands shook with excitement. I copied it onto the USB as fast as I could. I seized the USB, shut the laptop, and hurried out of the room to find Thyme.

As I rounded the door, she bumped into me. “Quick! Ruprecht just texted. Henry’s leaving!”

“Is he coming here?”

Thyme shrugged. “How would Ruprecht know? Ok, we have to get out of here, fast!”

We hurried to the back door. She flicked the latch over and then pulled the door shut behind us. Once safely outside, we peered around the corner of the house. “Can you hear a car?” I asked Thyme.

Thyme shook her head. “No, can you?”

“No. Let’s go!”

We sprinted for the cover of the bushes. When we reached the growth of wattle trees, Thyme pulled me down beside her. “We can see the road from here. I can’t see anyone coming yet.”

“Let’s cut across that paddock near the creek.”

We sprinted away again, and then ran down a ditch which would hide us from the road. I stopped to draw breath, but Thyme urged me on. We came to the creek crossing. “I can’t go over there without getting my shoes wet,” Thyme complained, “but we can’t risk going the long way.”

“This is all your idea,” I grumbled, stepping into the fast flowing water. Thankfully, at this point the creek was only a few feet across, but it rose to my knees. I emerged on the other side with squelching shoes and soaked jeans bottoms.

“Oh, I forgot to ask you,” Thyme said as she sloshed through the creek. “Did you get anything? I didn’t. Just a lot of bills and receipts and a whole lot of boring stuff.”

I slapped my forehead. “I forgot got to tell you, since I was so busy running away from the scene of the crime. I got all the information.”

“What? You did?”

I nodded. “Yes, it’s on the USB.”

Thyme hugged me so tightly I was worried she would crush the evidence.

Chapter 23

The plan was that I would go home and have a shower, and Thyme would do likewise, only she would summon Ruprecht to my place. We would all look at the evidence and then decide how to deliver it to the police. I thought the only way was to mail it anonymously, but figured Ruprecht might come up with something better.

I stepped out of the shower to be met by Willow and Hawthorn. It was obvious they both expected to be fed. “It’s only midday,” I informed them. “I fed you this morning and I’m not feeding you again until tonight.”

The cats’ eyes widened; their tails swished, and they looked more than displeased. I sighed and went to the kitchen to fetch their bowls. “Just a small snack,” I said in defeat.

I went back into my bedroom and took the USB from my dresser. Sitting on my bed, I opened my laptop and copied the file across. I opened the file to check it, and breathed a big sigh of relief that it hadn’t somehow been corrupted. Now I had a back up. Just then, the house turned up the TV, so I hurried into the living room to turn it down. I averted my eyes as someone’s head was lopped off.

“Please don’t turn it up again for a while,” I said. “I’ve had a really hard morning. I’ll leave it on, but just not too loud, okay?”

Apparently the house agreed, as the volume remained low.

I hurried around the room, quickly tidying up before Ruprecht and Thyme came. Where did all that cat hair come from? It wasn’t as if they were Persians, yet there were dust bunnies, or rather cat hair bunnies, all over the room. I had just disposed of the last of the cat hair when there was a knock on the door. Bummer, I wouldn’t have time to vacuum.

I opened the door to see a man standing there. “Great One, it is me, Fred.”

“Since when have you ever used doors?” I asked him.

Fred bowed deeply. “Great Dark Witch, I seem to incur your displeasure when I arrive unannounced. Would you be so kind as to allow me to enter your premises?”

I stood back, and he walked inside. I showed him into the living room. I have no idea why I did, but I didn’t know what else to do. “I need to ask you a question.”

He bowed deeply again.

“Did you murder Scott Plank?”

The spirit took a step backward and clutched his throat. “How could you ask me such a thing, Great One? I am mortally offended. What must you think of me? No, of course I did not kill anyone!”

“I command you to tell me the truth. I wish you would tell me the truth,” I added to cover all my bases.

“Of course I’m telling you the truth, Great One!” His face fell.

I allowed myself to feel some small measure of relief. Of course, I didn’t know whether or not he really was telling the truth, but I felt that he was. “You’ll have to go now, Fred. Go back to wherever it is that you came from.”

Fred appeared to be on the point of crying. “I want to go. I don’t like it on this plane of existence. It’s boring and drab.”

That had never occurred to me. “Why don’t you just go?”

Fred looked exasperated. “Because you summoned me, Great One. You’re the only one who can send me back.”

I at once was contrite. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He narrowed his eyes into tiny slits. “You humans are so parochial, if you’ll forgive me for saying so.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea how I can send you back?” I asked hopefully.

Fred looked shocked. “You ask
me
, Great One?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it.” I had no idea how I would, but I had to try.

I quieted my mind, and visualized my feet sinking into the ground below me, as I often did with a grounding meditation. First I felt nothing, but that immediately progressed to feeling incredibly strange. There was a ringing in my ears and a metallic taste in my mouth. A distant sound of rushing unnerved me. I focused on my visualization, and then opened myself up to my own nascent power.

There—I had done it. There was no flash of lightning, no crack of thunder. The cloister bells didn’t ring. I didn’t feel any surges of energy. I was Amelia Spelled, Dark Witch. I had finally come into my power. Yet I didn’t feel commanding as such—I felt balanced, in the flow. There was no way to describe it, other than to say I felt grounded.

Fred had gone. I knew before I even opened my eyes. Yet I was not alone.

I turned with a start, and at the same time, the house turned up the volume on the TV. Every muscle in my body froze.

Henry Harden was standing there, his face partially shadowed by the drawn curtains. Every angle of his face exuded menace. His bloodshot eyes were juxtaposed against his pallid complexion.

My first thought was that he had come to kill me. My second thought was that the house must have something planned, given that it had allowed him inside.

“How did you know?’ he asked, taking a step toward me.

“That you killed Scott Plank because he swindled you? Was Helen in it with you?”

Henry took another step. “She knows nothing about it. I want the USB.”

I gasped. “How did you know?”

“Nanny cam.”

“But, but you don’t have any kids,” I stuttered.

Henry grunted. “We thought the cleaner was stealing money, so I installed a nanny cam disguised to look like a smoke detector. That’s how I saw you open my computer. The motion sensor alerted me and streamed the video to my phone. I want the USB. I also want to know who else knows, or were you acting alone?”

“Why did you kill him in my shop?” I asked him.

“It wasn’t planned,” he said angrily. “I was on my way to buy cupcakes, and I saw Kayleen and Craig leaving your store. They didn’t see me, and when I went in, I saw Scott alone so I dispatched him quickly. I’d been carrying that rope around for days, just waiting for my opportunity, so I took it then and there. I thought the cops would blame Craig and Kayleen. That woman reads my mail.”

His manner had turned deadly calm. Suddenly, the TV blared. “Turn that down, will you?” He was angry now.

“It’s stuck,” I said, hoping the house would make its move soon. I fervently hoped the house didn’t want us to act out a scene from
Game of Thrones
, because that involved heads being cut off and other unpleasant things.

Henry loomed over me. “Just get me the USB, and then we’ll talk,” he yelled over the TV volume.

Then you’ll kill me
, I thought. Before I could do or say anything, he lunged at the TV in what I assume was an attempt to turn down the volume.

Right then, a blue-white mist seeped from the TV screen just as the sound went off. I staggered backward, terrified, even though I knew it was the house doing something.

Henry, however, did not have the benefit of that knowledge. The mist, forming into the figure of a woman, moved toward him, all pale blue and dead and terrifying, its hands outstretched.

He screamed, and then screamed again.

I put my hands over my eyes, and dared to peep through them just as Sergeant Tinsdell and Constable Dawson burst into the room. Henry flung himself at Tinsdell. “Save me! Save me! It’s a White Walker. Don’t let it touch me!” He flung himself to the floor and shook violently.

“
Game of Thrones
was on the TV when he arrived,” I said. “His um, episode started after that.”

“What was he doing here?” Tinsdell asked me.

“He said he killed Scott Plank. He said Scott cheated him out of millions of dollars, and he said he had all the proof on his laptop. He seemed to think I knew this somehow, so he was coming to kill me.”

Tinsdell turned to bend over Henry. “Is that right, Mr. Harden?”

“Yes, yes! I’ll confess everything. Just don’t let it touch me!” He pointed to the place where the ghost had been, but I couldn’t see anything now. I didn’t know if Henry still could. “Yes, I killed Scott Plank because he cheated me out of money. Millions of dollars! My wife inherited it, and Scott stole it.” He tried to say more but it came out as gibberish.

Constable Dawson handcuffed him and pulled him to his feet. “But that White Walker didn’t have blue eyes,” Henry yelled as he was taken away.

Tinsdell stayed in the room with me as Dawson took Henry out. “Are you harmed at all, Miss Spelled?”

I shook my head. “No, he just came here thinking I knew all the information about him and confessed to murdering Scott Plank. Then he saw that
Game of Thrones
was on TV, and the next thing I knew, he was yelling that a White Walker was coming for him. A White Walker is from
Game of Thrones
. On the show they have huge blank blue eyes, hence his reference.”

“Yes, thank you for the
Game of Thrones
explanation,” Tinsdell said sarcastically. “I myself watch the show, so I know what a White Walker is. What I don’t understand is that this is the second unbalanced murderer I’ve found in your house. What are the chances?”

“Cats,” I said simply, and pointed to Willow and Hawthorn who were sitting on the rug. “Just before Henry came, I spent ages picking up their hair. Henry must be allergic to cats, too.” I plastered an innocent look on my face.

“It could be black mold, you know,” Tinsdell said quite seriously. “Miss Spelled, you should get this house checked out. Black mold is toxic, and it can cause all sorts of symptoms.” He stroked his chin. “I don’t know if it can send people mad, though.”

Before I could respond, Ruprecht, Camino, and Thyme hurried into the room. “Thank goodness you’re all right,” Ruprecht said.

Camino took off her toad head and adjusted her onesie. “I saw Henry going into your house, so I called the police.”

Tinsdell looked at Camino for a while, and then patted me on the shoulder. “Mold, Miss Spelled, mold.
Please
have it checked out.”