Witch in the Dell--And 2 New Mini Mysteries Read online

  Aunt Irene shook her head. “He should have had one of the women make the exchange.”

  “He didn’t know about the curse, according to him. After he saw the photo of Belinda Noble wearing the necklace, his one goal was to get it back, at any price.” Terry shook his head. “Jasper had stolen the necklace from his sister, who had no idea that it belonged to the Camerons. When she showed up at the station, we were treated to a shouting match of epic proportions.”

  “I wish I’d seen that,” Maggie said, and clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized she’d said it out loud.

  Instead of frowning, Aunt Irene laughed. “So do I, Maggie. It must have been a sight.”

  “Oh, it was,” Terry said. “She also agreed to press charges against Jasper for theft. He won’t see the outside of a cell for quite some time. Thanks to you, Maggie, he didn’t get away with the necklace. You were quite clever, stalling him, and letting us know where he was.”

  She blushed at the compliment, ducking her head. Aunt Irene had her blush deepening.

  “My niece is a clever, intelligent girl, and I could not be more proud.”

  “I hope you’ll be coming back next summer, Maggie.”

  She looked up at Terry, and over to Aunt Irene. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  ***

  The summer flew by, and as her final day dawned, Maggie stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, tears stinging her eyes.

  “I’ll be back,” she whispered. “No matter how many promises I have to make.”

  She would have to pretend to be the quiet, obedient Maggie who had left at the beginning of the summer, or her parents would never let her come back here. If it meant being able to spend her summers with Aunt Irene, she’d pretend every minute of the day.

  When she got up and dressed, she found Spencer waiting for her downstairs.

  “Our last adventure,” he said, smiling at her. His normal grin was pale, and matched her mood.

  “Let’s make it a good one.” She took his hand, squeezing it before she headed to the front door. “Where did you want to go?”

  Spencer’s smile brightened. “I know the perfect place. Come on!”

  Maggie wasn’t surprised when he led her up to the castle. Like her, it was his favorite place in the village. They spent hours exploring, heading into the pitch black side rooms in the main keep, a small flashlight lighting their way.

  By five pm, she was exhausted, and ready to head home. Aunt Irene had a farewell dinner planned for them, and Maggie didn’t want to be late.

  “Thank you for the perfect day, Spence.” She took his hands and looked up at him, wanting to capture his face, memorize it for the months she would spend away from him. “I’m going to miss you.”

  To her surprise, he pulled her forward and hugged her. “I’ll miss you, Mags. Don’t forget me.”

  She let out a watery laugh. “Not likely.”

  Spencer finally let her go, and turned away from her for a minute. She could have sworn he was wiping his eyes, but she wouldn’t call him on it. She felt the same.

  “You have my email,” he said. “I expect at least one a week.” He winked at her, and hugged her one more time.

  She held on, knowing that by this time tomorrow, she would be on a plane, headed for the States.

  “At least once a week. I promise,” she whispered.

  “Good.” After a final squeeze, he let her go. “See you next summer, Maggie Mulgrew.”

  Before she could answer, he took off, waving as he rounded the corner.

  She let out a sigh, and headed into the house. Aunt Irene waited for her, closing one hand over her shoulder.

  “All right, my dear?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to miss him.”

  “I will keep him busy.” She winked at Maggie.

  Smiling, Maggie followed her upstairs, picturing exactly how she might keep Spencer busy.

  They parted at the top of the stairs, and Maggie rushed to her bedroom, quickly changing into the only dress she brought. It had taken planning, but she’d managed to completely repack her suitcase after her parents were asleep.

  If she hadn’t, she would have looked ridiculous, trying to run around in the skirts and blouses her mother had originally packed.

  When she walked out, she skidded to a halt when she saw Aunt Irene.

  Her aunt wore a long, blue velvet dress that reminded Maggie of the black and white films she would stay up late to watch. Aunt Irene had pulled her wild red hair into a neat updo, which set off the gorgeous earrings she wore.

  “Good evening, Maggie. You look lovely.”

  “You look—amazing. Are those rubies?”

  Aunt Irene touched one tear shaped drop. “These have been in the Mulgrew family since the 17th century. They will be yours someday, Maggie. Are you ready for supper?”

  “Yeah.” She stared at the earrings as they walked down the stairs, tripping more than once.

  Smiling, Aunt Irene took her arm, holding on to her until they reached the bottom of the stairs. “I have a surprise for you, my dear.” She led Maggie into the lounge, then stepped aside.

  Spencer stood at the end of the sofa, wearing a shirt and tie, and grinning at her.

  “Spence!”

  “Hey, Mags.” He scanned her, his grin widening. “A dress? I didn’t think you owned one.”

  “Is that your tie, or did you borrow it from your dad?”

  They both laughed, and Spencer headed for her, taking her hand as they followed Aunt Irene to the front door.

  “Are you really coming out with us, Spencer?”

  He nodded. “Your aunt squared it with my parents. I had to promise to be on my best behavior, but it was worth the sacrifice.”

  “Thanks.”

  He laughed at her sarcastic tone. “We’re going to the Bonnie Prince Charlie, a pub near our flat.”

  “The blue and gold building?” Maggie could hardly believe it—she was going to an actual pub.

  “The very one. I better warn you, though, the owner isn’t fond of Yanks.”

  “Walter will behave himself,” Aunt Irene said, joining them. “I will make certain of it.”

  Maggie bit her lip, glancing at Spencer.

  It was going to be an interesting evening.

  ***

  Walter glared at Maggie most of the night, but he kept his distance, thanks to Aunt Irene cornering him the minute they walked in. By the time she finished talking, his face was white.

  Maggie stared at her dessert, a delicious sticky toffee pudding that she couldn’t finish. She was stuffed from a generous serving of the best fish and chips she’d ever tasted.

  “Tired, my dear girl?” Aunt Irene smiled at her. “We can have the kitchen wrap it up for you.”

  “But—I’m leaving tomorrow.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, tears stinging her eyes again.

  Spencer gently punched her shoulder. “Airport snack,” he said, smiling at her.

  His comment helped her push back the tears, and she returned his smile, nodding at her aunt. He gripped her hand under the table, his smile fading.

  “Spence.”

  “I don’t want you to go, Maggie.”

  “I don’t want to go, but I promise, I’ll be back next summer. And every summer after that.”

  It was a promise she planned to keep, no matter what her parents had to say about it.

  And someday, somehow, she’d call this pretty village home.

  ~ ~ * ~ ~

  Night of the Patchouli

  A Maggie Mulgrew Mini Mystery

  Cate Dean

  Copyright, 2017

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except for use in any review. This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, locales, and events are either pure invention or used fictitiously, and all incidents come from the author’s imagination alone.

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up for Cate’s list: http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list/ to learn about new releases.

  Maggie Mulgrew took in a deep breath, and smiled.

  She was home.

  Aunt Irene’s huge Victorian looked the same, and smelled like scones, tea, and wildflowers.

  Every summer, since she was ten, she had come here, and spent three glorious months with the people she loved most.

  Tonight, she was going to meet her best friend, Spencer Knight, at the Bonnie Prince Charlie pub. The owner, Walter, despised Yanks, and made a point of letting Maggie know that every time she dared walk in, but she loved the atmosphere. And Spencer loved poking at Walter.

  “Maggie—can you come down for a moment?”

  “Coming, Aunt Irene!”

  She dropped the clothes in her hand on the bed and ran out of her bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time.

  Her Great Aunt Irene stood at the bottom of the stairs, an amused smile on her face. The wild red hair that Maggie had inherited was pulled back in a low bun, and Aunt Irene wore her going to estate sales outfit—jeans and a simple button down shirt.

  “I know you just arrived yesterday, and you must be tired, my dear, but are you up for an estate sale?”

  “Yes!” Maggie barely kept from jumping in place. At sixteen, she figured she should start acting a little less like a kid. “Where?”

  “The old Mandor mansion finally sold. If you want to join me, we have to leave now. It will be a one day sale, and I want to get there before they open the doors.”

  “I’m ready, if this is okay to wear.” Maggie looked down at her jeans and shirt.

  She’d already brushed her teeth, and pulled her hair into a ponytail, so she felt fresh, if still tired. Sleeping on the plane was never an option, even when her parents sprang for first class. Too much going on, people moving around, and Maggie didn’t want to miss any of it. And she never slept well her first night here, with the excitement of being back keeping her awake.

  Aunt Irene nodded. “You look perfectly suitable for a day of poking through dusty furniture and tchotchkes.”

  “Then I’m definitely ready.”

  Aunt Irene smiled at her. “If you would please fetch the basket in the kitchen, we can be off.”

  “Got it.”

  Maggie ran to the kitchen and grabbed the familiar picnic basket off the farmhouse table. Her aunt always packed plenty of food for what usually became day-long jaunts through the countryside, hunting for fresh stock for her consignment and antique shop, The Ash Leaf. Maggie had experienced her first estate sale during her second summer here, and had instantly fallen in love with antique hunting.

  She also had a good eye, according to her aunt, and had learned to trust her instinct about a piece. Aunt Irene had been telling her about the old Mandor mansion for the last three years, after it went on the market.

  According to her, the huge, rundown mansion was filled to the rafters with furniture, decorative items, and more paintings than walls to hang them. If anyone would know, it would be her aunt.

  Maggie followed her out to the beat up Land Rover, and climbed into the passenger seat, twisting to set the basket on the floor behind her. Riding in the Rover was always an adventure, because Aunt Irene drove it like she was on an urgent mission. Maggie always held on and smiled the entire time.

  The small open trailer had been hooked up to the back, which told Maggie this was going to be a serious shopping trip.

  “Ready?” Her aunt’s voice brought her back to the moment.

  “Excited.”

  Aunt Irene glanced over her, and started the engine. “So am I, dear. Let’s go find some treasure.”

  ***

  The drive to the Mandor estate was beautiful. They passed fields dotted with sheep and wildflowers, rolling green hills, and a ring of standing stones. Aunt Irene stopped on the side of the road, pointing to the stones.

  “Those are part of an old legend. Beyond them is the village of Dell.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “People here don’t like to speak of it. The village was abandoned, meals left on tables, belongings left behind. I want you to stay away from it, Maggie. Nothing good has happened there since a witch was condemned, and sentenced to death by burning.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Maggie shivered at the thought of someone being burned alive, of an entire village disappearing without a trace.

  “Good. On to a happier topic, then. Did you ask your parents about returning for Halloween?”

  Maggie’s good mood faded. “They said no. It was actually more of a ‘hell, no, not a chance in this lifetime’ kind of no.”

  “I will speak to your mother.” Aunt Irene smiled at her, and winked. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “Okay.” Hope pushed back the memory of that conversation. Her parents had reacted like Maggie had asked to meet the devil; with horror, and more emotion than she’d seen from them in a long time. “Are you looking for anything in particular at the sale?”

  “You know my stock, dear. Whatever you think will work in the shop is fair game. I can always store what doesn’t fit in the carriage house.”

  “So, no limits.” Maggie grinned at her aunt’s laugh.

  “It has to fit in the Rover, or the trailer, unless I can arrange for delivery.”

  “Check.”

  They rode in comfortable silence, until the huge mansion came into view. Dozens of cars sat in a temporary car park, and Aunt Irene joined them, aiming the Rover toward the road, for an easy exit. Maggie grabbed the picnic basket and climbed out, waiting for her aunt. Excitement and anticipation had her bouncing on her toes.

  “I will carry the basket, Maggie.” Aunt Irene took it from her, heading for a huge oak tree near the side of the mansion, and tucked the basket up against the trunk. It marked their lunch spot for later, and the shade would keep everything cool. “A queue is forming already. Can you go and hold a place for us? I want to make certain the food is in order.”

  “On my way.”

  Maggie ran over to the queue, and watched it quickly grow behind her. Thank heavens they got here early; this was turning out to be a popular sale. Aunt Irene joined her right before they opened the double doors, and ushered in the first twenty people. Maggie stuck close to her aunt as they walked into the mansion, taking in the huge foyer, and the furniture crammed into nearly every inch.

  The organizers had carved out narrow pathways, with just enough room for two people to walk next to each other. Aunt Irene pulled out her business cards and tape, handing some cards to Maggie.

  “If you see something interesting, tape the card to the price tag, and let me know so I can add it to my list. My card will mark the item.”

  “What if there’s a card already there?” Maggie saw more than a few tucked into pieces.

  “Then we negotiate.” Aunt Irene winked at her. “All part of the fun.”

  They each took a side of the pathway, taping cards to at least a dozen items before they even got out of the foyer. Maggie knew they wouldn’t get everything, but finding possibilities was such a rush.

  When they reached what looked like a library, floor space opened up, allowing them to wander the room. While Aunt Irene studied the bookshelves, Maggie headed for a table filled with costume jewelry and small decorative items.

  She spotted the bracelet right away.

  At first glance, it looked like a charm bracelet. But when she got closer, she saw that the design was deliberate—delicate gold leaves scattered between what looked like aquamarine, all beaded on a delicate gold chain.

  She carefully picked it up, and almost dropped it again when she spotted the makers mark. It was Tiffany & Co.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?” One of the attendants smiled at her. “If you would like to carry it with you, I’ll just tag it.”

  “Yes. I’d like to purchase it.”

  She almost flinched at the price, but she had enough money to buy it for herself
, if she budgeted the rest of the summer. Once she touched it, she couldn’t let it go.

  The attendant added a red tag, and Maggie thanked her, walking away from the table in a daze. It was her first real purchase, with her own money. She was still staring at the gorgeous bracelet when she ran into someone.

  “Maggie?” Aunt Irene caught her arm to steady her. “What did you find?”

  “A bracelet.” Maggie held it up, and her aunt took it.

  “Tiffany & Co. You have a keen eye, my dear. This is odd.” She separated a small gold rectangle attached to the clasp. “This says the piece was made in Egypt, for Tiffany. I have never seen anything like this.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “The bracelet may have been created for a specific customer, and assembled in Egypt for them. We can do some research on it.” She touched one of the stones. “If I’m not mistaken, these are blue diamonds.”

  “What?” Maggie whispered. “I thought they were aquamarine.”

  “Not on a Tiffany piece, dear. You found quite the bargain, if they are diamonds.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t buy it.”

  “Nonsense. This is an estate sale, Maggie, not a fine jeweler. The price was determined by the people organizing this sale. Certain items will always be priced under their value, to ensure a purchase.” She handed the bracelet to Maggie. “If you love it, my dear, then it is yours.”

  “I do, Aunt Irene.”

  “There are few items I fall in love with, but when I do, I don’t question why.” She rubbed Maggie’s back, smiling at her. “Ready to keep going?”

  Maggie nodded, and they spent the rest of the morning wandering through the mansion. She couldn’t help taking a quick peek at the bracelet every couple of minutes. Aunt Irene had her put it on, to keep it from getting lost, and the weight of it on her left wrist felt right. She couldn’t describe how she felt any other way.

  They took a lunch break, sitting on a blanket under the tree and eating roast beef sandwiches. Aunt Irene went over her list of possible purchases.

  “If we end up with half of these, it will be a profitable day.”

  “You think we’ll only get half?”