Harper Grant and the Poisoned Pumpkin Pie Read online

  Harper Grant and the Poisoned Pumpkin Pie

  A Witchy Short

  Danica Britton

  Copyright © 2017 Danica Britton

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

  http://www.dsbutlerbooks.com/danicabritton/

  For My Mum x

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  A note from Danica Britton

  Also by Danica Britton

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  “Ta-da,” Grandma Grant perched a pointed witch’s hat on her head and gave us a twirl. “How do I look?”

  “It suits you,” I said, looking at her elegant black dress. “But don’t you think it’s a little obvious? I mean, the Halloween Party is fancy dress. You’re supposed to dress up as something you are not.”

  “And you are a witch, so that is cheating,” Jess piped up.

  Grandma Grant shrugged and then scratched her cat, Athena, behind the ears. “The residents of Abbott Cove would be disappointed if I came as anything else.”

  She had a point. I turned my attention back to my sister, Jess. I needed a steady hand because I was applying white fabric paint on Jess’s outfit. She was wearing a black, long-sleeved T-shirt and skintight, black leggings. She was going dressed as a skeleton, and it was my responsibility to paint the bones.

  I sat back in satisfaction and smiled at my handiwork. “It looks pretty good, even if I do say so myself.”

  Jess looked at me and pouted. “I suppose, but I don’t see why I have to go as a skeleton and you get to go as the hot vampire.”

  I smirked as I put the brush back in the little pot of paint. “Because I don’t have the legs to carry off those leggings like you do. Now, flap your arms about until the paint dries.” I took a quick glance at the instructions on the pot of fabric paint. “It says it takes five minutes to dry.”

  “A good job, too,” Grandma Grant said looking in the mirror as she applied some lipstick. “If we don’t get to Archie’s diner soon, they’ll have started without us.”

  Personally, I wasn’t too bothered about that. In fact, I hoped they had started without us. All day long, I’d experienced a tingly, warning sensation that something bad was going to happen today. Grandma Grant, of course, dismissed my concerns, putting it down to my overactive imagination.

  My name is Harper Grant, and I’m a witch. My grandmother, sister and I all live in the small town of Abbott Cove, Maine, and for the most part, the three of us manage to hide the fact we are witches from the local residents. It isn’t always easy, though, particularly when Grandma Grant comes up with a crazy plan or money-making scheme involving magic.

  At times, I suspected she actually wanted people to know she was a witch.

  Tonight we were going to Archie’s diner on Main Street for a Halloween party. I’d worked for Archie for a while now and enjoyed my job, but today, I was dreading going to the diner. Archie had come up with the idea of a town party for Halloween. He’d organized a pumpkin pie competition and persuaded some of the town’s best cooks to get involved, and afterwards, there was going to be a pumpkin pie eating competition.

  Somehow, I’d managed to get roped into the eating competition. I’m still not quite sure how it happened. I blame Archie. He can be very persuasive when he looks at me with his puppy-dog eyes. It’s not that I don’t like eating delicious food, and I love pumpkin pie, but I believe dessert should be savored, not gobbled down at the speed of light.

  Grandma Grant had prepared a pumpkin pie for the competition. Her baking wasn’t usually much to write home about. She was better in the kitchen than Jess and me, but that wasn’t saying much. Today, though, Grandma Grant had been walking around with a smug smile on her face all afternoon, and that only meant one thing. Trouble.

  “You didn’t cast any magic on this pie, did you, Grandma Grant? Please tell me we don’t have to watch out for people turning into frogs this evening?”

  Grandma Grant gave a little huff under her breath and looked indignant. “Honestly, Harper, give me a little more credit than that.”

  Thinking I’d hurt Grandma Grant’s feelings by accusing her of cheating, I quickly apologized. I held up my hands. “I’m sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t use magic to win the competition. I just wanted to make sure we didn’t get any unwanted surprises this evening.”

  Grandma Grant raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say I hadn’t used magic. I just want a little more credit. My magic has produced the most delicious pumpkin pie anyone in Abbott Cove has ever tasted. I’d never turn anyone into a frog! Well, not unless they deserved it, and in that case, it would be intentional.”

  My jaw dropped open. And to think I’d felt guilty for suspecting Grandma Grant of cheating.

  Before I could respond, Jess shook her head. “Let it go, Harper.”

  I sighed. Jess was right. Whatever I said now, Grandma Grant wasn’t going to listen to me. She’d always been competitive, but I couldn’t help wondering if there was something special about this competition.

  “Are we all ready?” Grandma Grant asked as she set her hat at a jaunty angle.

  I prodded Jess’s arm. “I think so. The paint is dry now. I just need my cloak,” I said as I grabbed the pair of false fangs I’d purchased online. They were actually quite uncomfortable, so I wasn’t planning to wear them all night.

  Grandma Grant handed me the cloak. It was pitch black, long, lined in black silk with a small silver clasp at the neck. We’d found it when we rummaged in Grandma Grant’s attic, looking for potential Halloween outfits. As I flung it about my shoulders and fastened it around my neck, I smiled, feeling very elegant. The cloak was the finishing touch to my outfit. Now, I really looked like a vampire.

  I began to walk towards the front door but stopped suddenly.

  Grandma Grant, who was holding a cake box containing her precious pumpkin pie, muttered a curse at me. “Watch where you’re going, Harper,” she snapped. “I spent a lot of time on this pie.”

  Jess turned to me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just had a thought,” I said, looking at Grandma Grant. “This cloak was in your attic… We don’t have any vampires in the family, do we?”

  Grandma Grant snorted with laughter. “Sometimes, Harper, you do ask ridiculous questions. Everybody knows there’s no such thing as vampires.”

  And with that, she walked past me, out of the house, carrying her pumpkin pie carefully towards her rusty old truck. I followed her outside as Jess locked the front door. Until I was sixteen, I had no idea witches existed either, so I didn’t think asking about vampires was an unreasonable question.

  I clutched the silky cloak around me and shivered as the cool evening air encircled me. Brown and orange leaves crunched beneath our feet as we walked out to Grandma Grant’s old F150 truck.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me or Jess to drive?” I asked, looking at the battered old vehicle and wondering whether it would make it into town.

  “There’s nothing wrong with this old truck,” Grandma Grant said, and she heaved herself up into the driver’s seat.

  Jess sat in the middle, a
nd I got in beside her and was given the task of holding the pumpkin pie.

  “Guard it with your life, Harper,” Grandma Grant said.

  “Don’t you think you might be taking this competition just a teensy bit too seriously?”

  “No.”

  Jess gave Grandma Grant a sideways glance. “Why is this competition so important to you?”

  Grandma Grant started the engine. “There’s nothing wrong with a little healthy competition.”

  As Grandma Grant began to drive towards Abbott Cove, I took a deep breath. Relax, Harper, I told myself. It’s just a Halloween party. What’s the worst that could happen?

  Chapter Two

  When we got to the diner, the party was in full swing. The windows were adorned with fake cobwebs. Jack-o’-lanterns stood either side of the entrance, and the cheerful sound of chatting and laughter came from inside.

  I’d helped Archie to move the tables and set up the decorations earlier, but when I stepped inside the diner, I saw he had gone a step further. In the corner was a white sheet draped over something to make it look like a ghost. Archie had even cut out holes for the eyes. I looked at it critically for a moment and then almost jumped out of my skin when it moved.

  “Boo!” Archie’s voice came from underneath the sheet.

  I shook my head in exasperation. “Archie! How can you even see from underneath that sheet?”

  He pulled the sheet off his head and grinned at me. His hair was a little ruffled. “To be honest, it’s not easy. I should have made the holes for the eyes a bit bigger.”

  “It looks like your Halloween party is a hit.” I looked around at all the people gathered inside the diner. I don’t think I’d ever seen it so busy.

  “Yes, I had no idea it would be so popular. The judge is here. He has brought his whole entourage along. I think he is the main reason so many people turned up. Everyone loves celebrities.”

  Leo Green was the judge, and although by most people’s standards he wasn’t really a celebrity, he was the closest thing we had in Abbott Cove. In fact, he didn’t even live in our town but was a resident in Cherrytown, which was the next town over from Abbott Cove.

  Leo used to be a bestselling author. His mysteries would hit the New York Times bestsellers list on release and sold millions of copies. Unfortunately, for the past five years, Leo had suffered from writer’s block and hadn’t been able to write any mysteries. Despite that, his name still created interest. The latest book he’d released was a recipe book, “Fifty Ways to Cook Root Vegetables.”

  I’m sure it was a good book, but it had disappointed his hordes of adoring fans who were expecting another mystery.

  As I hadn’t met him before, I quickly scanned the people gathered in the diner. I recognized most of them, but one man stood out. A tall, portly man, who was laughing exuberantly at something Betty from the Lobster Shack was saying. He was dressed as a wizard and wore a fake long, white beard and a purple cloak printed with bright yellow stars.

  “Yes, he is the judge. That’s Leo Green,” Archie said, following my gaze.

  Leo was surrounded by people hanging on his every word.

  “Who is that and what has he come dressed as?” I asked Archie, nodding at a thin man standing beside Leo. He wore a dark red, velvet, smoking jacket and a white shirt with ruffles.

  “Oh, that’s Leo’s agent, Jonathan Copeland. It’s not an outfit. That’s just how he usually dresses.”

  “Oh,” I said, taking in Jonathan’s purple cravat. “How strange.”

  “And that’s Petunia, Leo’s mother-in-law,” Archie said, indicating a plump lady with an old-fashioned hairstyle. “She’s devoted to her daughter, Leo’s wife, Claudine. Petunia even lives with them, but they all seem to get on quite well.” Archie frowned. “I’m not sure where Claudine is. She was next to Leo a moment ago. Leo’s brother, Bruce, is around somewhere, too.”

  Grandma Grant stepped in front of me to get a better look at the judge. “I’ve got my entry for the pumpkin pie competition here, Archie. Where should I put it?”

  Archie pointed to the far side of the room, near the counter. “There is a table behind that large orange screen. We are keeping the pies hidden until it’s time for them to be judged.”

  We followed Archie, saying hello to people as we weaved around them, and when we reached the screen, Archie pulled it back so Grandma Grant could put hers on the table next to the others beside a large pitcher of lemonade.

  I got a glimpse of the other pumpkin pies as Grandma Grant prepared to set hers on the table.

  They all looked amazing. One was topped with whipped cream, another had pecans artfully arranged on the surface of the pumpkin pie filling, and one even had candied fruit on top.

  I licked my lips. “They look amazing.”

  “They look pretty good,” Grandma Grant said grudgingly. “But none as good as this!” With a flourish, she removed her pumpkin pie from the cake box and set it down beside the other entries.

  I had to admit she had done a great job. The pastry was pale and looked like it would melt in the mouth, and the filling was just the right color and looked creamy and delicious. Standing this close to the pies, I could smell the warm spiced scent, and my mouth watered.

  “Oh, well done, Mrs Grant,” Archie said. “That looks very good.”

  “Wait until you taste it,” Grandma Grant said. “It will blow all the others away.”

  I hoped she didn’t mean literally.

  Archie smiled politely and then turned to whisper in my ear. “Your grandmother does sound very confident, Harper.”

  I nodded. She did, and that worried me. “Is Sarah taking part in the pie competition?”

  Sarah worked at the diner, too, whipping up fabulous meals in the kitchen while I served the customers. Archie was pretty good in the kitchen, but Sarah’s baking was amazing. I’d been known to dream about her carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.

  Archie shook his head. “No, Sarah is here for the party.” He pointed to where Sarah, dressed as a pixie, stood with her daughter, chatting to Mr and Mrs Townsend. “But we thought if Sarah entered, no one else would stand a chance.”

  “I think you’re probably right,” I said as I looked around at the diner. It looked very different to how it did during the day. All of the tables had been stacked and moved out to the back room, and only a few chairs remained, lined up against one wall. It made the diner seem a lot bigger and allowed more people to gather inside.

  I was about to ask Archie who was entering the competition when I saw Grandma Grant’s reason for being so competitive. Her arch nemesis stood just a few feet away. Adele Silver.

  I don’t remember when their feud started. There’d been so many incidents in the past. One that stuck out clearly in my mind was when both women had entered a display for best in show with their daffodils at last year’s spring show. That hadn’t ended well. Grandma Grant would be determined to beat Adele Silver if it was the last thing she did.

  At first glance, Adele Silver seemed quite harmless. She was a couple of years younger than Grandma Grant. Her silvery grey hair was carefully curled back from her face, and she wore a ton of silver jewelry— bracelets, necklaces and rings. She was dressed as a fairy, complete with a net tutu and a wand. When she saw us, she gave a slow smile.

  Grandma Grant bristled beside me. “So, we meet again,” she whispered.

  “Oh for goodness sake,” I muttered.

  “What?” Jess asked, frowning.

  I nodded in Adele Silver’s direction.

  Jess pulled a face. “Oh, I see.”

  Grandma Grant squared her shoulders and began to make a beeline for Adele, but Jess was too quick for her and hooked an arm through Grandma Grant’s before dragging her in the opposite direction. “Look, it’s Ethel Goodridge. She was saying just the other day that she wanted to have a word with you.”

  Phew! I watched Grandma Grant being led away by Jess. Crisis averted. Although, for how long was anyone�
��s guess.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the judge,” Archie said, and I followed him over to Leo Green.

  “Leo, this is Harper,” Archie said. “She works at the diner, and she helped me with the Halloween decorations for the party.”

  Leo beamed at me. “Well, you’ve done an excellent job. Are you taking part in the competition?”

  “Goodness no!”

  Leo’s face fell, and Archie prodded me in the ribs.

  “I mean, I’m better at eating dessert than making it,” I added quickly.

  Leo chuckled and then turned to his right and put an arm around the shoulder of the curvy lady standing beside him, dressed as a jester. She had sparkling blue eyes and cheeks that dimpled when she smiled. “This is my wife, Claudine.”

  Then he turned to the man on his right, who wore a clown suit and had his face painted white. “And this is my brother, Bruce. Bruce is also an author.”

  Bruce wore a curly red wig and a hang dog expression. He didn’t look very pleased to be at the party.

  I said hello to Claudine and Bruce.

  “What books do you write, Bruce?” I asked.

  “Self-help, mainly. The Winding Road to Happiness is one of my bestsellers.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to respond. Bruce didn’t look like he'd taken the road to happiness, winding or otherwise.

  We passed a few minutes with some small talk until a flash of orange caught my eye. Had the screen hiding the pumpkin pies moved? I excused myself from the group and walked toward the screen.

  It was hard to see because there were so many people between me and the screen, but I thought I saw someone slip out from behind the screen. My first thought was that it had been Grandma Grant up to her old tricks, but when I looked around, I saw Grandma Grant was still chatting with Jess and Ethel Goodridge.