A Witchy Mystery (Harper Grant Mystery Series Book 2) Read online

  I felt my cheeks heat up. That was a low blow. I had put on a few pounds over winter. What can I say? I work at a diner where the food is delicious, and Sarah makes the most amazing carrot cake.

  But I wasn’t Carol, and I wasn’t going to let Yvonne make me feel guilty.

  I completely ignored Yvonne and turned again to Carol. “Are you sure, Carol? I could put one in a bag for you to take out.”

  Carol looked up. Her eyes flickered to her sister and then back to me before she gave a tentative smile. “Yes, I’d like that. I’ll have one to take out.”

  I smiled to myself as I walked back to the counter to bag up a muffin for Carol.

  It was only a small step, but I was glad she’d stood up for herself.

  Shortly afterward, Old Bob left his corner table followed by the chief and Joe McGrady.

  The three women remained in the booth, having a deep discussion. I only caught every other sentence or so, but it sounded like they were talking about setting up the new yoga business.

  I imagined Yvonne must be doing very well for herself to employ a personal assistant and her sister to help. It surprised me that she was setting up a base in a town as small as Abbott Cove. We weren’t exactly a bustling metropolis, and I wasn’t quite sure how many customers she would have.

  But I suppose Yoga paid well. She had a very expensive-looking watch on her wrist, not that I knew much about that sort of thing, and her clothes looked expensive. I was pretty sure she had a top of the range Coach purse on the floor beside her feet.

  It had been quiet so far this morning, and it didn’t appear to be getting any busier as we approached lunchtime. Sometimes the diner could be like that. Other days, we’d have busloads of tourists descend upon us, and we’d be packed out. We never knew what days we were going to be busy, but as Archie said, at least it kept us on our toes.

  Archie still hadn’t dared to come out of the kitchen, which I found amusing and irritating at the same time.

  I began to fold some napkins — one of those jobs I tended to do when it was quiet — when all of a sudden I heard Yvonne raise her voice.

  “Oh, for goodness sake. Do I have to think of everything? Can you never think for yourself? I suppose this is another mess you expect me to get us out of.”

  I looked up but quickly looked down again as Yvonne caught me watching and scowled.

  I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but if she spoke so loudly in a public place, I would hardly classify that as eavesdropping.

  Yvonne huffed out an impatient breath and shrugged on her jacket. “Well, why are you just sitting there? Go and pay the bill,” Yvonne snapped at her sister.

  Carol hastily got to her feet and rushed over to me.

  “Can I get the check?” she mumbled miserably, rummaging through her purse.

  “Of course, I would have brought it over to you,” I said as I started to ring their order up on the till.

  “I thought I’d better come over to the counter. Yvonne is in rather a hurry.”

  After Carol had paid the check, the three women left the diner. I stared after them, and a strange sense of unease made me shiver.

  Loretta drifted in front of me, and as the door closed behind them, she said, “That woman is going to cause trouble for Abbott Cove, mark my words.”

  I exhaled a long breath. I had a horrible feeling Loretta was right.

  Chapter 2

  The rest of the day at the diner passed just as slowly. We only had a slow trickle of customers all day.

  After Yvonne left, Archie eventually ventured out from the kitchen and good-naturedly put up with my teasing over his obvious crush on Yvonne.

  He let me go early. I wasn’t sure whether that was because he was being kind as we were so quiet, or whether he just wanted me to stop teasing him about his crush.

  The sun was sparkling down on Abbott Cove as I left the diner, and I walked away from the harbor, up the hill, along Main Street.

  Even the shops along here were quiet today. Abbott Cove was quite a sleepy little town when we didn’t have hordes of tourists. Visitors loved the quaint white houses, stores with striped awnings and gift shops with trellis tables set up outside, piled high with fridge magnets and flip flops.

  There weren’t many shops on Main Street, but those that were there mainly catered to tourists. There were numerous gift shops and a lovely gallery that displayed paintings of the sea and the coastline around Abbott Cove.

  As I walked further up the hill, I had the strange sensation I was being watched. I turned around, almost expecting to see someone I knew to be approaching me for a chat, but the sidewalk behind me was empty.

  I frowned but didn’t let it bother me and continued my walk home.

  I share a small cottage with my sister, Jess, which is only a few minutes’ walk from my grandmother’s house.

  Grandma Grant still lived in the Grant family home, a huge, old house on the outskirts of town. It was surrounded by thick woodland and could only be accessed by private road or a narrow trail through the woods.

  Despite protests from Jess and me, Grandma Grant insisted she did not want to move nearer to town. For one thing, she wouldn’t know what to do with her collections.

  Grandma Grant was a collector, and yes, that was as bad as it sounded. The trouble was, she never just collected one thing. It changed from year to year. One year it was thimbles, which wasn’t so bad because they were only small, but the following year she decided to collect umbrella stands. We could only hope she didn’t move on to collecting anything larger.

  She was very independent, and my sister and I thought she was better off staying in a home that made her happy. She ran her nursery business from there and had a huge greenhouse only a few feet from the house itself, which was where she grew all the herbs for her potions.

  I suspected that was why she liked the deep woodland surrounding the house. She liked to keep the rumor mill active and loved it when the townsfolk spread whispers that the old Grant house was haunted.

  Despite our very best efforts to act as normally as we could around the residents of Abbott Cove, rumors persisted that Grandma Grant was a witch.

  Of course, those rumors happened to be true, but we tried to play it down as best we could.

  I turned right at the top of Main Street and again had the distinct impression there was someone behind me, watching me.

  This time, I turned around faster, but again, there was nothing there.

  I smiled and shook my head, feeling bemused. I was losing it.

  Since I had wrapped up work for the day earlier than usual, I decided to pop in and see Grandma Grant on my way home. I needed to speak to her about the lying in the road habit she’d picked up, and although I wasn’t looking forward to it, I knew I couldn’t put it off for long. If I didn’t speak to her about it, Chief Wickham would.

  As I marched up the trail towards Grandma Grant’s house, I felt a prickling sensation along the back of my neck, but every time I turned around, there was absolutely no one there. I was completely alone.

  I made my way through the shady, green trail that led to the front of the house, feeling on edge.

  When the large, imposing house came into view, I’d never been so pleased to see it. I tried to shake off the creepy feeling I was being watched and stepped inside Grandma Grant’s kitchen without knocking. I did that on purpose. I thought I might catch her off-guard.

  My grandmother was in the kitchen next to the stove, chopping some green herbs. “Harper, what are you doing here?” she demanded, lifting her knife from the chopping board.

  Charming. It was nice to feel so welcome. “I was on my way home. I thought I’d just pop in and say hello and make sure you were all right.”

  “Of course I’m all right,” Grandma Grant said, looking up at me warily.

  Grandma Grant was a short woman, but she was stout and strong. She had clear blue eyes that sparkled, and her hair was now gray. I had heard that back in the day her hair was the
color of straw, and she was quite popular with the men of Abbott Cove when she was younger.

  “I don’t buy it, Harper. You haven’t come here for a social call. We made plans for dinner tomorrow, but for some reason you’ve decided to visit me today as well. And you look shifty. In my book, that means you want something. So do you want to tell me why you are really here?”

  “I do not look shifty!”

  My mouth dropped open, and I was about to tell her she had a suspicious mind, but I decided not to bother pretending. There really wasn’t any point when she could see right through me.

  “Is there anything you want to tell me?” I asked as Athena, Grandma Grant’s cat, appeared out of nowhere and wound her way around my ankles.

  Grandma Grant narrowed her eyes. “Why? What have you heard?”

  That was a bad sign. If there was only one scheme she was working on, she would have immediately launched into defensive mode. The fact she wasn’t sure what I was referring to made my heart sink. There was obviously something else I hadn’t heard about yet.

  I bent down to stroke Athena, but the cat slipped out of my grasp and gave me a haughty look. Athena ruled the roost, and she knew it. Rather than being our cat, I think she saw herself as a sort of supreme being, and we were all her unworthy subjects.

  “I saw Chief Wickham today, and he told me you’ve been lying in the road again.”

  Grandma Grant looked indignant. “I wasn’t just lying in the road, Harper,” she said huffily. “I was protesting. It’s different.”

  “Of course,” I said, not bothering to hide my skepticism.

  “It’s an important cause, Harper. One you should pay more attention to.”

  I sighed and pulled out one of the chairs by the kitchen table and sat down. “Last time you were lying in the road, you were protesting that Betty had raised the price of the senior special in the Lobster Shack. You thought lying in the road was the answer then, too.”

  Grandma Grant smiled triumphantly. “It was. It worked just fine. I got a discount. It’s an effective means of protest.”

  I supposed I couldn’t really argue with that. It had been effective. “What are you protesting about this time?”

  “The mayor is supporting the construction of that new resort. When they started the project, the plans detailed a small hotel on the other side of the cove, but they keep adding to the plans, and it’s going to change the fabric of Abbott Cove completely. That crafty mayor thinks he can sneak all the changes past us, and none of us will realize until it’s too late.”

  I frowned. That actually did sound like a legitimate reason to protest. I hadn’t expected that. Before I could ask her any more questions, though, Grandma Grant changed the subject.

  “Anyway, I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said.

  “A surprise?”

  “Yes, but it won’t be here until tomorrow. I’ll give it to you before dinner.”

  Athena wound her way around my legs again, and I dared to reach down to try and stroke her soft fur. This time, she permitted me to scratch her behind the ears before moving away again and making her way to her favorite spot by the fire.

  Even in midsummer, Grandma Grant always had a small fire going in the kitchen, usually because she had some kind of potion bubbling away.

  She told everyone it was her herbal teas, and I had to admit she was very good at making herbal teas, but most of the time it was her potions. I envied her ability to make healing potions. But I didn’t envy her the work that went into it. It seemed to me as if she was constantly chopping something up, growing a new plant or adjusting a recipe.

  I was relaxing back in my chair, watching Athena stretch out by the fire when Grandma Grant said, “Don’t get too comfortable,”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you can’t stay here all night. I’ve got things to do.”

  I was immediately suspicious. When Grandma Grant wanted to get rid of me, I immediately assumed she was up to mischief. It was a fair assumption. She usually was.

  I narrowed my eyes as I tried to read her expression. “Okay, spill the details. What have you got up your sleeve? You may as well tell me now because I’ll find out eventually.”

  Only a few months ago, we’d discovered that Grandma Grant was making a special potion to make her plants grow faster. The trouble was, they grew much too fast and had ended up smashing through the greenhouse roof.

  Most of Grandma Grant’s schemes ended in disaster.

  “It’s nothing like that. I’m off on a date tonight, dinner with Roland Dexter. He is picking me up in half an hour.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t believe it. Grandma Grant had a better social life than me.

  * * *

  After being unceremoniously hurried out of Grandma Grant’s house, I cut across the trail towards the cottage Jess and I shared.

  The evening light was fading, and the birds were chirping in the trees as they prepared to roost.

  As we were on top of the hill, in theory, I should have been able to glimpse the sea from where I stood, but the thickness of the forest and trees surrounding the Grant house and the trail, made it feel like we were cut off from the town and the coastline completely. The gentle evening light filtered through the green leaves and gave the trail an otherworldly appearance.

  I’d only been walking for a minute or so when I had that strange sensation I was being watched again.

  I turned slowly, but again, there was nothing there.

  I had no idea what was wrong with me today. Unlike most witches, I wasn’t very sensitive to things around me, apart from the obvious ability to see ghosts. I didn’t have a sixth sense or anything like that, which made it even stranger that I was convinced somebody or something was watching me. Occasionally, I felt a tingling sensation or a sense of foreboding, but I wasn’t particularly attuned to that sort of thing.

  I probably wouldn’t have given it any more thought if nothing else had happened on my journey home, but when I was only a few yards away from the front door of the cottage, I heard bushes rustling beside me and almost jumped a foot in the air.

  I whirled around to see the shrubbery outside the house moving. Not much, but there was a distinct swaying of branches.

  I gulped. With my heart in my mouth, I edged forward.

  Horror movies always ended badly for the person stupid enough to investigate alone. Perhaps I should get inside and lock the door?

  But I had to be overreacting. This was Abbott Cove. It was probably a small animal, maybe a raccoon. There had to be a logical explanation.

  I reached the shrubbery and peered down, trying to spread the branches to get a better look.

  Suddenly there was a rustle of leaves, and I saw two bright green eyes staring up at me.

  I squealed with shock and staggered back.

  Then I saw what had caused my panic.

  A very small cat. All black, apart from a little white patch on its nose.

  I let out the breath I’d been holding and laughed at myself for panicking.

  “Hello,” I said, kneeling down and trying to get closer to the little cat.

  It didn’t look like a kitten, but it was tiny, and I wondered when the poor thing had last eaten. I moved a little closer. I couldn’t see a collar.

  I stood up slowly, not wanting to alarm it, and decided to go back inside the cottage and try to get something for it to eat. I didn’t have any cat food, but I was sure I had a tin of tuna fish in one of the cupboards.

  But before I could move, the cat turned and scampered off deep into the woods.

  I watched it go miserably. The poor little thing.

  I considered putting some food out anyway, just in case the cat came back.

  Jess would probably tell me off for attracting raccoons to the house, who would then wreck the garbage bins, but there was something about that poor little, scrawny cat that had tugged at my heartstrings.

  I went inside the house, found a can of tuna and
put it into a small dish.

  I put it on the edge of the porch and then went back inside, figuring the cat would be more likely to come and eat if I wasn’t standing there watching.

  Back inside the house I looked around and sighed. Jess would be out on her date by now, being wined and dined at the luxurious hotel restaurant in the next town over, and even Grandma Grant would be off having fun somewhere by now.

  I was quite happy with my own company, though, and since I had the house to myself, I decided to make the most of it.

  I headed to the bathroom and prepared myself a bubble bath. I then got out my secret stash of chocolate and made a cup of Grandma Grant’s special chamomile tea.

  Before I climbed in the bath, I took a quick peek outside to see if the cat had come back, but the tuna fish was untouched.

  I left it there, in case the cat came back later, and then undressed, got in the bath and reached for my e-reader.

  I relaxed back into the warm water, and the bubbles tickled my skin. I smiled as I turned on the e-reader. This was my idea of a perfect evening. Who needed a man anyway?

  What did I care if Joe McGrady was suddenly interested in Yvonne the Yoga Goddess instead of me?

  She was welcome to him. I was content with my book, a bubble bath and an extra-large bar of chocolate.

  Chapter 3

  The following morning, Jess walked into my bedroom and tried to shake me awake.

  I resisted, snuggling down beneath the covers.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to go,” I grumbled.

  “Don’t be silly. You’ll feel fine just as soon as you get out of bed. It looks like it’s going to be a lovely day.”

  Jess flung open the curtains, and I scrunched up my eyes against the early morning sunlight.

  “Why are you so full of beans? I never understand how anyone can be so bouncy at this time of the morning. It’s unnatural. What time did you get home last night?”