Witch of Christmas Past (6 page)

“I guess the first thing we need to look at is your Uncle, although I’m not sure how his broadcast could have caused the people to become brainwashed.”

“Me either, but it’s a start. Skeet told me that Aaron wasn’t home and that he wasn’t at the station, so I’m not sure where to find him.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see what I can find out. Just make sure you’re at Founder’s Park tonight.”

“Will do,” I promised.

After ending the call, I left the Sea Spray Condos and headed toward home.

I had no idea how exactly my uncle could have used the radio to brainwash the citizens of Mystique Island, but I did know I wouldn’t be listening to any of his programs in the near future.

I was surprised to see a new porch light. There was a note from Stony, informing me that he’d changed out the light and added a motion sensor. Stapled to the note was an invoice.

He’d come early, which was okay by me. At least I wouldn’t have to come home after the tree lighting ceremony to a dark house.

Before going into the house, I checked the mail. The mailman had left me a stack of mail, consisting of mostly bills and junk. There really should be a law against the mailman sneaking bills and junk mail into your box when you’re not looking.

Tossing the stack of envelopes on the kitchen table, I made a beeline for the refrigerator. I might not have any coffee on hand, but I knew I had a cold soda.

Taking my soda to the bedroom, I search my closet for something nice to wear. Since I had to be put on the auction block, blue jeans and a t-shirt probably wouldn’t be the most appropriate clothing.

After several minutes of pulling clothes off hangers, and then tossing them aside, I finally found the perfect outfit. My white skirt with a matching cashmere sweater would be perfect. I even had a pair of high top boots with fur trim that would go great with the outfit.

Laying my clothes out on the bed, I went into the bathroom to run a hot bath. I needed some time to relax before putting myself in front of hundreds of people. Besides, I figured a candlelight bath would give me some time to think.

Even submerged in a tub full of hot water and bubbles, it was difficult to clear my head and distress. I just couldn’t that image of Annabelle out of my head.

Not even Granny had been able to tame the bad girl of Mystique Island, so how could she have changed so dramatically overnight?

There had to be some brainwashing going on. It was the only logical answer.

And then there was Muriel.

I was now convinced she was haunting me because of our blood connection. What better way to get your murder solved than by haunting your sister’s granddaughter, who just happened to specialize in weird crimes?

At some point, I was going to have to explore the caves beneath the lighthouse. The answer to Muriel’s demise could very well be hidden in the caves.

Giving up on the relaxing idea, I pulled the plug and turned on the shower to wash my hair.

I hated to admit it, even to myself, but the real reason I was taking so much care with my appearance was because I knew it was a possibility that Zane Dupree would be at the Tree Lighting.

Since the sea monster incident, he hadn’t been in town much, and he hadn’t called either.

Not seeing him stung, but I couldn’t really blame Zane. I’d been cool toward him too, but I did have my reasons.

How could I get involved with a vampire, or anyone really? I was a fallen angel. At anytime my number could be up and the devil would come to collect his due.

Besides, the last time I’d given my heart away, the jerk had stomped on it and tossed it back to me. Not literally, but that’s how it felt.

I still couldn’t believe the nerve of my ex-fiancé. Not only did he have an affair before our wedding, but he’d had an affair with the wedding planner. Just thinking about it made my stomach twist into knots.

Standing at the mirror I did my usual teeth brushing ritual before going to my bedroom to comb out my tangled wet hair. Since I still had awhile, I figured I’d let my hair air-dry.

Wrapping up in my bathrobe, I padded barefoot to the kitchen. I poured me some more soda, but I wished I could have something a lot stronger.

Taking my soda to the table, I sank into a chair and started the task of sorting through the mail.

One piece of mail caught my attention right away. It was a large envelope, and it looked to be from the post office.

I carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. There was a letter from the post office and a very old looking envelope.

The letter was short.

Isabelle Cooper

This piece of mail has been repackaged due to damage. We apologize for the delay in delivering your mail. The letter was found in the postmaster’s desk with instructions to deliver to the above address in December of this year. Please contact us if you have any problems.

Sincerely

Bradley Page

USPS Storm Cove Postmaster

Dropping the letter to the table, I turned my attention to the envelope. The writing was faded and difficult to read.

Shock set in as I recognized Granny’s handwriting. The letter was postmarked 1883.

But was that even possible?

Had the post office really held onto it for over a hundred years?

If true, there had to be a particular reason why Granny wanted it delivered at a specific time.

I carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was yellowed with age, but the writing wasn’t nearly as faded as it was on the envelope.

My Dearest Isabelle

I hope this letter finds you all well. I know for you, it has only been a few months since the last time we were all together, but for me it has been years. I have tried every trick in my pocket to find a way back to my family, but nothing is working. Writing you a letter from the past was the only way I could get a message to you. I know you will all want to know what has become of me.

The Ripper believed I was dead when he threw me overboard that night, but he didn’t know this old witch. A few knife wounds are easy to heal with the right spell. All might have turned out okay, but there was a strange glowing fog that night. When he tossed me
out of his boat, I went under, but when I surfaced, I was no longer off the Coast of Mystique Island. I came up in the Thames. I have been in London since that night, but I now live over a hundred years in the past.

There is a portal offshore of the lighthouse. That’s where we were when I went in. I know there must be one on this side of time, but as of yet I haven’t been able to find it. I believe the portal is activated by magic, and I also think I know who the witch is. She sends people to different points in time to gather information for her.

The witch cannot cross time or she risks not being able to return. Her magic may not work in the future. I believe this to be true as my magic is very weak here. This witch sent the Ripper, and I believe she has also sent someone else, but I have no idea who that person is.

Find someone with the spell to open the portal for that side. It is the only way. It must be done during the full moon. I know that much. I am in Whitechapel, and I am known as Stella the witch doctor.

If you are not successful, please know how much I love and miss you all. Also, do not worry about me. I am as happy as can be expected under the circumstances.

Love Always

Granny

Stunned, I let the letter drop from my hand.

So I had been right. Granny wasn’t dead. She was just living in a different time.

But where was I going to find a witch old enough to know the spell, and powerful enough to use it?

If Annabelle hadn’t been turned into an airhead, she certainly had the power, but she probably wouldn’t know the spell.

There were the witches up at Moonlight Dell, but I still didn’t trust them. Rayanne was up to something with the sheriff, and that was even if she hadn’t been brainwashed yet.

Of course, there was one witch who
might
know the spell, and she was certainly powerful enough to use it.

Delia Antson was the director of the Sunnyside Retirement Community, and she was known as the White Witch of Mystique Island. There was a reason for that. Not only was she one of the best witches on the island, she was always neutral.

As far as I knew, Delia had never been mixed up in any questionable activities, which meant she could probably be trusted.

I needed someone I could trust if I were going to jump into some portal and travel to the past. It would really suck mud to get on the other side of the portal, and then have some wicked witch shut it.

No doubt Delia would be at the Tree Lighting, which would make it easy to approach her for help. I decided I would take the letter and let her read it. It would be easier and faster than trying to explain the situation myself.

Parking was a nightmare. It was getting dark by the time I found a place for Lady Luck. The Mermaid Inn was the closest parking to Founder’s Park.

Although there was a crowd gathered, I was expecting a much larger turnout. By my estimation, there seemed to be about thirty percent fewer people than last year. That could mean there was a flu bug going around, but I figured it was far more likely due to my uncle’s brainwashing radio program. They were probably all at home baking Christmas cookies.

The one thing I could be thankful for was that so far no one seemed to be physically hurt, except for the dead and buried, of course. Besides, a little Holly Homemaker brainwashing might actually be a good thing for my sister, but I wasn’t so sure about the idea of her dating Malcolm Skeet.

Not only was Skeet several years older than Annabelle, but he also had stinky feet. That man could fumigate everything within a ten-mile radius when he took off his shoes. My sister wouldn’t put of with that for long.

Who was I kidding?

The Annabelle I knew would never go out with Skeet in the first place.

Dorothy Bell highjacked me as I was locking Lady Luck’s doors.

“Oh thank goodness! Could you take one of these boxes?” she asked, thrusting a box full of instant hot cocoa at me.

As president of the historical society and director of the Shipwreck Point Lighthouse, Dorothy had her hands into everything. She was so busy; I figured she was busier than me most of the time.

Dorothy was an older woman, with a somewhat large frame, but she never failed to dazzle.

Dressed in a green elf costume, not only did she look festive, but cute too. I don’t think I’d ever seen Dorothy Bell look so adorable.

“Well you’re looking quite lovely tonight, Miss Izzy,” she said, as she continued ambling down the sidewalk toward Founder’s Park.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Oh, this old thing. I decided to give Marcy a break. She’s usually the elf. But good news! We have Santa lighting the tree tonight.”

“Who’s going to be Santa?” I asked.

“Councilman Breakfield. You know he’s been the acting mayor since that unfortunate business with Mayor Christensen.”

I nodded. “I’m sure he’ll make a great Santa too.”

By unfortunate business, she meant Mayor Christensen’s death at the hands of Missy Rogers, AKA, the ugly sea monster.

“I hear Breakfield is planning to run for mayor during the regular election in November,” I said as I shifted the awkward box so it was easier to carry.

“He is.” Dorothy nodded. “He’s been doing a fine job since he took over. I think he has a chance.”

I didn’t disagree with her. Breakfield seemed like a nice guy, but I had a distrust of the city and county government since I’d discovered they were in cahoots with Zane Dupree.

I had to admit; they’d been right. The Misty Haven Resort turned out to be a good thing for Mystique Island. Tourism had been picking up steadily since the resort opened.

The weather was good for the Tree Lighting. There had been some rain earlier in the day, but the storm cleared out about noon, just in time for everything to dry out. On the downside, it was a little cool.

Near the entrance to the park, there was a large tent that just happened to be red and white striped like a candy cane. Dorothy went in that direction and I followed.

Inside the tent was toasty warm, maybe a little too warm.

The historical society had put together a concession stand, which is exactly where we were going.

“You can just set that box on the table, right there.” She pointed to the little folding table that seemed to be a catch-all for their supplies.

I set the box on the table and was ready to say my goodbyes when Dorothy handed me a cup of hot chocolate and a freshly baked cheese stuffed pretzel.

“Thanks for helping this old lady out. This is on the house,” she said.

“Oh thank you, but you didn’t need to.” I took the chocolate and pretzel.

Dorothy waved my protests away. “Least I can do.”

I wasn’t exactly hungry, but the pretzel smelled delicious.

There was a makeshift dining room of folding tables and chairs. Taking a seat at the one nearest Dorothy’s booth, I sipped at my chocolate.

“Do you know if Delia Antson plans to be here tonight?” I asked before taking a bite of the warm pretzel.

“As far as I know she is bringing a group from Sunnyside. They plan to sing Christmas Carols with the preschoolers.”

“Great! I was hoping to run into her,” I said, taking anther drink of the chocolate.

“If I see Delia, I’ll let her know you are looking for her,” Dorothy offered.

“That would be great. Thanks.”

A few minutes later I was done with my early evening snack, compliments of Dorothy and the historical society. Sliding the chair to its place beneath the table, I called to Dorothy, “Thanks. That was yummy.”

“Glad you liked it.” She beamed. “You could spread the word and let people know we have a snack stand in here.”

“Will do,” I promised.

As soon as I stepped outside, I was blasted by a cooler than normal wind. That could only mean one thing. Another storm was on its way in.

I hoped they managed to pull off the Tree Lighting before the storm hit, though it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings much if they cancelled the ride along with Izzy, auction.

The crowd was thicker now, but there still were not as many people as there should have been.

Locating Delia wasn’t too difficult. She was with a group of about a dozen people from the Sunnyside Retirement Community.

Her group was kind of cute, all bundled up in thick coats, hats and gloves. I wondered if Delia forgot to tell them that the tree lighting was in Storm Cove, and not at the North Pole.

Although Delia Antson was tall, a little on the chunky side, and middle-aged, she was still pretty and had the most gorgeous long brown hair I’d ever seen. She was also nice.

The Sunnyside group was gathered near the giant Christmas tree that was going to be lit soon.

Delia was in the process of handing out sheets of paper with a list of songs that they were planning to sing.

Nick Ross, an elderly gentleman with a head full of gray hair and particularly thick glasses, shoved the paper back toward Delia.

“How do you expect a person to read that twaddle?” he grumbled. “Looks like Japanese to me.”

Delia frowned and cast sympathetic eyes toward Nick. “Did you visit the eye doctor like you were supposed to?”

“Why hell yes I did! Doc said there wasn’t a thing wrong with my eyes.”

I almost giggled out loud but thought better of it. Nick might be an old guy, but from my understanding, he’d been one heck of a warlock. Sure, nowadays he could barely cast on a squirrel, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Well, no one else is having a problem reading it.” Delia shrugged. “Maybe you can just follow along with someone else. Daisy Jean will probably help you.”

That’s when I noticed a Japanese guy standing next to him, wearing a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in old pilot gear, possibly World War II era. I was never real good at placing war periods.

It was obvious the man was a ghost, and it was just as apparent that Delia and Nick were completely unaware of his presence.

But how did I talk to him, without drawing attention to the fact that a ghost had joined them for the festivities. Actually, there were a few ghosts hanging around, but Japanese pilot guy seemed to be the only one causing havoc, and he was particularly interested in messing with old Nick.

Someone upstairs must have been reading my mind. Just as I was wondering how to talk to the ghost, a gust of wind sent Delia’s papers flying in all directions. The group of old people scrambled to help her retrieve them.

That left me and ghost guy alone.

“You know that is very rude to mess with Nick’s head like that,” I told him.

There was a sudden look of shock on his face.

“I know you can understand me. Ghosts don’t need a translator,” I informed him.

Still he just stared at me in silence.

“What do you have against Nick?”

“Nothing. He just reminds me of the pilot who shot me down.” His voice had a ghostly echo to it, which made sense since he was in spirit form.

“Maybe if you go into the light … you won’t be so bored that you have to turn English into Japanese, just to harass an innocent person.”

“No light for me.” He shook his head.

“You have to find the light inside you, before you will find that light,” I informed him.

Although I couldn’t be absolutely sure this was his problem, I was fairly confident it was.

“Forgive yourself and let go of your fear. That’s your ticket to heaven.” I finished with a smile.

At that moment, I saw Delia headed my way. When I looked back at Japanese guy, he was gone. There was no way of knowing if he had passed into the light or was just looking for mischief elsewhere.

“I’m sorry I ran off like that, Izzy,” Delia apologized. “Were you waiting to talk with me?”

I nodded, feeling a little guilty I hadn’t helped her chase papers. I just figured it was probably better if I helped Nick with his ghost problem.

“It’s okay,” I told her.

“Well, now that I’ve managed to get my group settled, what can I help you with?”

“Do you want to go to the tent and grab a cup of coffee?” I asked, figuring there would be enough light inside that she could read Granny’s letter, plus I could get my caffeine fix.

“Sure … I could do with a hot cup of coffee about now.”

When we were settled with our coffee at a table far enough from others that I wouldn’t need to worry about being overheard, I asked, “Have you ever heard of a spell that can open a portal into another time?”

Delia’s eyes widened. “Well, that’s an odd topic of conversation.”

“There’s a reason I’m asking. I received this letter from Granny,” I told her, sliding the envelope across the table.

Delia picked up the envelope and squinted a little as she tried to read the faded writing. Giving up, she grabbed a pair of glasses from her handbag.

A few minutes later she looked up and shook her head. “I have an old book my grandmother left me. It has been in the family for generations, but I’ve never actually tried the spell.”

“Could you try it?”

“I don’t know.” She frowned. “It could be dangerous. What happens if I don’t do it right and send you to the wrong time … or I can’t keep the portal open long enough for you to get back?”

“What choice do I have? There’s no way I can just not try,” I insisted.

“I know.” Delia reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. “If I remember right … the spell can only be done during the full moon. That just happens to be tonight.”

“So can we do it tonight then?” I asked, hopefully.

It would mean taking off in the middle of an investigation, but since it seemed no one was in any real danger, Ayden probably wouldn’t mind, especially for something like this.

Well, no one was in real danger if I didn’t count the nervous breakdown my sister would have when she figured out who she’d been dating.

Delia’s eyes were alight with worry. “You have to understand … there’s no way of knowing if this will work or not … or if it will work correctly.”

“I understand … and I’m willing to take the chance,” I assured her.

Sighing, Delia sat back in her chair. “Okay … but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Don’t worry. If something goes wrong, it’s all on me.”

Delia stood up and grabbed her stack of papers from the table. “Meet me at the beach, near the lighthouse … about a quarter to midnight.”