Read Online A Haunting Is Brewing: A Haunted Home Renovation and a Witchcraft Mystery Novella by Juliet Blackwell - Free Book Online
Authors: Juliet Blackwell
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a well-stocked bar.
We snagged a table near the front window and ordered tacos. After a few pointed questions, we tracked down Janella, a young waitress who had worked that night. Her dark hair, deep red lipstick, and exaggerated eyeliner gave her a retro vibe.
“Did you notice anything unusual about the group?” I asked her when she joined us at the table.
She shook her head. “The police came by, and I told them everything I could think of. It was a bunch of college kids and one older guy.”
“How big was the group?”
“It was a six-top.”
“The five students, and probably Adam’s uncle Preston,” I said. “Was the older guy blond, kind of good-looking?”
She nodded. “Preston Wyzek was the name on the credit card. Left a big tip.”
“And they drank a lot?”
“They ordered two pitchers of margaritas, but not everyone in the party was drinking. The older guy, the one with the credit card, ordered a Diet Coke, and so did one of the girls. The real pretty girl drank margaritas with the other guys.”
“So two pitchers between four drinkers?”
“The older guy said he was driving, so I was like, whatever.”
“Did you notice anything unusual, overhear something, maybe . . . ?”
“We were kind of slammed that night, so I didn’t pay that much attention to them. They seemed pretty mellow. Except . . . wait, that’s right.”
“What?” Lily asked.
“One of the guys kept making my pen disappear.”
“Excuse me?”
“He was fooling around with the napkin, making stuff disappear or whatever. Then it would come out behind someone’s ear. My granddad used to do that with silver dollars; I hate that sort of crap, especially when it’s busy.”
“Which guy was this?”
“Not the old guy, one of the others.” She shrugged and glanced toward the kitchen. “Your order’s up, and I gotta get back to work before I get in trouble.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for talking to us.”
Lily and I were quiet, each lost to our thoughts as we dug into our food. After polishing off her first taco, Lily said, “This is good, but not like the truck at Yosemite and Jennings.”
“I like the one at the Goodwill parking lot in Oakland. Great
carnitas
.”
“I used to love
carnitas
, but I don’t eat them anymore because of my pet pig. So, what do you think of this Preston fellow?” Lily asked.
“He’s always struck me as kind of . . . off. But maybe it’s just that I find it a little strange that he’s hanging around young college students. He’s at least thirty. Doesn’t seem to have a job . . .”
“I imagine the police are looking into his background if he was with Adam that night.”
“I hope so. If it’s presumed to be suicide they might not be looking very hard, but . . . I’m sure they’re poking around, just to be sure. The inspector on the case is smart, and thorough. Annette Crawford. Do you know her?”
She shook her head.
“Is it weird that one of the guys was doing magic tricks? Seems kind of coincidental considering Reginald Spooner’s history.”
“Hard to say; lots of folks like magic tricks. I meant to ask you: Have you ever sensed the ghost of Reginald in the house?”
“No. I wondered about that, too; even tried to send out signals, as best I could. I didn’t sense anything, but the truth is, ghosts usually find
me
, not the other way around. I haven’t figured out how to exert any control over them, assuming that’s even possible. If Reginald is around and up to no good, he could easily hide from the likes of me.”
Janella arrived to clear our plates and urge us to consider dessert.
“None for me, but I’d love a cup of espresso—if it’s really good,” I said and Lily nodded.
“The owner says it’s the best in the city,” Janella said. “Which isn’t true, not by a long shot, but it’s decent. Two espressos, coming up.”
“Okay . . . so what are we thinking?” I asked Lily as the waitress walked away. “The
We snagged a table near the front window and ordered tacos. After a few pointed questions, we tracked down Janella, a young waitress who had worked that night. Her dark hair, deep red lipstick, and exaggerated eyeliner gave her a retro vibe.
“Did you notice anything unusual about the group?” I asked her when she joined us at the table.
She shook her head. “The police came by, and I told them everything I could think of. It was a bunch of college kids and one older guy.”
“How big was the group?”
“It was a six-top.”
“The five students, and probably Adam’s uncle Preston,” I said. “Was the older guy blond, kind of good-looking?”
She nodded. “Preston Wyzek was the name on the credit card. Left a big tip.”
“And they drank a lot?”
“They ordered two pitchers of margaritas, but not everyone in the party was drinking. The older guy, the one with the credit card, ordered a Diet Coke, and so did one of the girls. The real pretty girl drank margaritas with the other guys.”
“So two pitchers between four drinkers?”
“The older guy said he was driving, so I was like, whatever.”
“Did you notice anything unusual, overhear something, maybe . . . ?”
“We were kind of slammed that night, so I didn’t pay that much attention to them. They seemed pretty mellow. Except . . . wait, that’s right.”
“What?” Lily asked.
“One of the guys kept making my pen disappear.”
“Excuse me?”
“He was fooling around with the napkin, making stuff disappear or whatever. Then it would come out behind someone’s ear. My granddad used to do that with silver dollars; I hate that sort of crap, especially when it’s busy.”
“Which guy was this?”
“Not the old guy, one of the others.” She shrugged and glanced toward the kitchen. “Your order’s up, and I gotta get back to work before I get in trouble.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for talking to us.”
Lily and I were quiet, each lost to our thoughts as we dug into our food. After polishing off her first taco, Lily said, “This is good, but not like the truck at Yosemite and Jennings.”
“I like the one at the Goodwill parking lot in Oakland. Great
carnitas
.”
“I used to love
carnitas
, but I don’t eat them anymore because of my pet pig. So, what do you think of this Preston fellow?” Lily asked.
“He’s always struck me as kind of . . . off. But maybe it’s just that I find it a little strange that he’s hanging around young college students. He’s at least thirty. Doesn’t seem to have a job . . .”
“I imagine the police are looking into his background if he was with Adam that night.”
“I hope so. If it’s presumed to be suicide they might not be looking very hard, but . . . I’m sure they’re poking around, just to be sure. The inspector on the case is smart, and thorough. Annette Crawford. Do you know her?”
She shook her head.
“Is it weird that one of the guys was doing magic tricks? Seems kind of coincidental considering Reginald Spooner’s history.”
“Hard to say; lots of folks like magic tricks. I meant to ask you: Have you ever sensed the ghost of Reginald in the house?”
“No. I wondered about that, too; even tried to send out signals, as best I could. I didn’t sense anything, but the truth is, ghosts usually find
me
, not the other way around. I haven’t figured out how to exert any control over them, assuming that’s even possible. If Reginald is around and up to no good, he could easily hide from the likes of me.”
Janella arrived to clear our plates and urge us to consider dessert.
“None for me, but I’d love a cup of espresso—if it’s really good,” I said and Lily nodded.
“The owner says it’s the best in the city,” Janella said. “Which isn’t true, not by a long shot, but it’s decent. Two espressos, coming up.”
“Okay . . . so what are we thinking?” I asked Lily as the waitress walked away. “The
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