Page 64 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem
Her gaze hardened. ‘No problem. I thought I’d tell you in person, seeing as you are here. I’ll phone your colleagues shortly. You can reopen Chirtlewood tomorrow as long as you completely seal the library off—door shut, locked if possible, and roped off. We don’t want anyone going in yet as we might want to have another look at things.’
‘That’s great. Thank you, Inspector.’
She turned and left the room without responding. I wiped my forehead to remove the sheen of sweat that had accumulated there. No doubt the inspector had noticed it. What was she thinking? That I was a little crazy, maybe? Hopefully, she’d think I was merely having a hot flash.
That would be preferable to her thinking I was lying, hiding something or guilty. Or all three.
Charlotte was still there, peering out through the windows.
I joined her. ‘My brief career as an amateur investigator isn’t going well.’
The countess inclined her head. ‘’Tis early days. Perchance thee shalt require assistance.’
‘I have someone I can ask, but he’s a little unreliable.’
The countess grinned, audibly cracking her caked-on white makeup. ‘I’ll help. I shalt call upon yon earl and his faithful companion, Scruffles, as well as young Maisey.’
***
MY PHONE RANG SHORTLY after midnight, waking me from a fretful sleep.
I sat bolt upright and looked at the display. Rose. I scrambled to join the video chat. ‘Rose. What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing’s the matter, Mum. I’m only calling to see how you are. I’m between lectures.’
‘It’s very late here. Midnight.’ The witching hour.
‘Oh, sorry! I’ve muddled up the time zone conversion. I thought it was ten o’clock. I’ll call back later.’
‘No, wait. I’m awake now. Let’s talk.’
‘Okay, great. How are things going?’
‘You wouldn’t believe it.’ I told her about the murdered researcher and how I’d started my own private investigation and tracked down Elvis.
Rose punctuated my story with sharp intakes of breath and gasps of horror. ‘That’s terrible, Mum! Are you safe to continue working there?’
‘I’m sure I am. I love working at Chirtlewood House.’ Besides, I need a job, and I’m intrigued by the ghosts. I wouldn’t leave, even if it was dangerous.
I didn’t mention the ghosts to Rose. One day, I would have to, because she might inherit the witch skills from me.
‘You’ve gone quiet, Mum. I sense there’s something you’re not telling me.’
My daughter was far too astute. ‘I’ll talk to you about it face-to-face when I see you next. It’s... something I learned from Aunt Ruth.’
‘Okay.’ Rose’s tone suggested that it wasn’t okay. ‘Weren’t you going on a date the last time I spoke to you? How’d that go?’
‘About as well as eating a package of soggy sandwiches. I have no complaint about the food, though. The date itself didn’t work out. We’re going to try again soon.’
‘Try again? You’re trying to date? Well, I suppose you are out of practise.’ She sniggered. ‘The dating scene has changed a bit since last century, Mum.’
‘I gathered that,’ I said dryly.
‘I have a confession to make. Don’t get mad. I told Dad where you are.’
‘You what? I specifically asked you not to do that.’
‘Yeah, well, he kept insisting. He said he needed your address to forward on some papers about the house for signing.’
