Chapter 15
Seaside Rest and Care was nothing like the dreary, fluorescent-lit facilities Adeline had seen in human movies.
The sprawling three-story brick building sat on Harbor Way and had wide porches, rocking chairs, and a stunning view of the bay.
The front garden was a blooming area of enchanted roses, wildflowers, moonflowers, and myriad other flowers Adeline couldn’t name.
She pushed through the front doors with Princess Muffin Top at her heels and stepped in a bright lobby filled with beautiful artwork.
A watercolor of the Grandmother Tree. An oil painting of shrimp boats at sunrise.
A crayon drawing of a dragon that Adeline suspected was done by one of the residents’ great-grandchildren, proudly displayed right next to a centuries-old landscape.
Soft music played from somewhere overhead as they made their way to the information area.
The mermaid behind the front desk looked up and smiled. “Hey, Adeline. Here to see someone?”
“Hi, Coral. Could you tell me which room Mrs. Abernathy is in? I hope I’m not interrupting her dinner.” Adeline winced. “I didn’t think about that before I drove over.”
Coral waved her off. “She should have finished by now. These folks love to eat at four, four-thirty at the latest.”
“That’s positively scandalous,” Princess Muffin Top said, jumping up onto the counter.
Coral laughed. “I agree. Anyway, she should be in her room. Two eighty-four. Take the elevator to the second floor, hang a right.”
Adeline thanked her as she and Princess Muffin Top headed for the elevator. There were a few residents milling around, and they either waved or called out greetings. Every time they oohed and aahed over how beautiful her cat was, Princess Muffin Top preened even more.
“You nervous?” her cat asked once the elevator doors closed.
“A little. I think it’ll be worse when we tell Chief Wolfe what’s going on.”
Room 284 was at the end of a quiet hallway decorated with more artwork and a row of potted ferns. Adeline knocked on Mrs. Abernathy’s door and waited patiently.
The door finally opened, and Mrs. Abernathy stood there in a lavender cardigan and house slippers, her white hair pinned up in a loose bun. She looked at Adeline, and then down at Princess Muffin Top. But she didn’t look the least bit surprised.
“Well,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “I was wondering when you’d figure it out.” She stepped aside and held the door open. “Come in, dear. You too, Princess Muffin Top.”
The apartment was small and cozy. A tidy living room and galley kitchen shared one open space, with a hallway leading to what Adeline assumed was the bedroom and bathroom.
The furniture was old but well cared for...
a floral loveseat, a reading chair with a knitted throw draped over the arm, a chipped coffee table, and a small bookshelf packed with novels and gardening guides.
A sliding glass door led to a small balcony outside, and framed photographs covered every surface.
Mrs. Abernathy as a young woman, a man Adeline assumed was her late husband, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren.
On the kitchen counter sat a ball of electric purple yarn and a half-finished tiny sweater just right for a squish-squid.
“I like this place,” Princess Muffin Top said, jumping up onto the loveseat and settling in. “Cozy. And really good light.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “Can I get you girls some tea?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Adeline sat down on the edge of the loveseat next to her cat as Mrs. Abernathy sat in the reading chair.
She’d rehearsed this conversation in her head the entire drive over, but now that she was here, looking at the sweet old woman who’d sung Elvis songs with her cat and patted the chief’s arm and told him he’d do just fine... well, now she didn’t know how to start.
“Go on, dear,” Mrs. Abernathy whispered. “Just ask.”
Adeline cleared her throat. “Mrs. Abernathy, are you the one who’s been vandalizing Ivan’s equipment?”
Mrs. Abernathy nodded and smoothed down her cardigan. “Yes, dear. I am.”
The confirmation hit Adeline harder than she’d expected, even though she’d known the answer before she’d knocked on the door. “All of it? The battery cables? The glitter paint? Ivan’s truck?”
“All of it.” Mrs. Abernathy’s said. “I’m not sure if you know this, but I moved to Moonlight Bay ten years ago after my Henry died so I could be closer to my daughter and grandchildren and great-grandchildren.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know that. I guess I just assumed you were always from Moonlight Bay.”
Mrs. Abernathy shook her head. “No. I was born and raised and even raised my family in the same supernatural town outside Atlanta. My Henry—may he rest in peace—owned a mechanics shop for sixty-three years. I spent half my life in that garage. Learned every engine inside and out.” She picked up another pair of knitting needles and resumed her work as though they were discussing the weather.
“The glitter was my favorite part. I went with pink because I knew it would drive Ivan crazy.”
“But why?” Adeline leaned forward. “And why did you let everyone think it was me?”
Mrs. Abernathy looked up from her needles and smiled.
“It wasn’t always my plan, but I saw the sparks between you and that handsome wolf, Adeline.
That first day he came out to the site. You may deny it, but I saw it.
Reminded me of me and my Henry. He was a bear shifter, you see.
My family nearly disowned me for taking up with him.
” She smiled at the memory. “I went into the police station that first day you were arrested, pretending to need to use the restroom, to see if I was right about the spark, and I was. So I just figured if you kept getting arrested, it would keep putting the two of you together. I guess this silly old witch just wanted to see two people happy.”
Adeline opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“And as for the vandalism itself,” Mrs. Abernathy continued, her needles clicking steadily, “someone had to take a real stand. Your protests are wonderful, dear. They truly are. But protests don’t stop bulldozers.
That troll was going to drain the marsh and destroy those lovely creatures, and the council wasn’t doing a damn thing about it.
A more radical approach was needed.” She looked at Adeline over her glasses.
“If not you, then who? And if not me, then who?”
Princess Muffin Top finally spoke. “I have to say, Mrs. Abernathy, I admire the craftsmanship.” She kissed her paw. “The glitter work on Ivan’s truck was chef’s kiss.”
“Thank you, Princess Muffin Top.” Mrs. Abernathy beamed. “I used a double-layer iridescent over the pink.” She sighed. “I’m sure it’s gone by now, though. It wasn’t a permanent spell. I didn’t want to get into that much trouble if caught.”
Adeline pressed her hands to her face. This was a disaster.
A glitter-magic disaster perpetrated by the sweetest woman in Moonlight Bay who loved to knit sweaters for squish-squids.
What would happen to her now? Would Chief Wolfe arrest her and ask for time in jail?
Would Thaddeus agree to that? Surely not.
But the elderly witch had vandalized property.
Would that be a mandatory sentence of some kind?
“Mrs. Abernathy, I understand why you did it. I honestly do. More than you know.” Adeline dropped her hands.
“But we have to tell the chief. If we don’t, and he figures it out on his own, it’ll be worse. For both of us.”
Mrs. Abernathy set down her knitting and folded her hands in her lap. “You’re right, dear. I knew this day would come. I just hoped I’d finish knitting all the sweaters first.” She held up the tiny purple garment she was currently working on. “Herman deserves to be warm.”
* * *
Adeline parked the Beetle Bus half a block from the station and exited. The evening was cool, and the streetlights along Tide Street were just flickering on...the enchanted lanterns casting their warm amber glow across the cobblestones.
Adeline, Princess Muffin Top, and Mrs. Abernathy stopped at the front door of the police station.
“You stay out here until I motion you inside, okay?” Adeline said.
“Of course, dear. Take your time.” The old witch patted her purse. “I brought a book in case I get bored.”
Adeline and Princess Muffin Top walked up the steps and through the front door. The station was quiet, which was exactly what she’d hoped to find. She knew her friend, Cassie, was off on Sundays, but she wasn’t sure about the others.
“Your boyfriend’s lights on in his office,” Princess Muffin Top said.
Adeline wasn’t sure whether to laugh at that statement...or cry. Because something told her Mason might not be her boyfriend for long after their discussion. She walked to his office and knocked on the doorframe.
He looked up when she appeared, and his face softened immediately. The smile he gave her made the guilt in her stomach twist tighter.
“Hey,” he said. “I was just thinking about you. I thought I heard the door open.” He put down the folder he’d been holding. “I was just going over files, hoping to find something that might tell me who—other than you—might want to stop Ivan’s project.”
“I need to tell you something, Mason. It’s serious.” She stayed in the doorway. If she got any closer, she’d lose her nerve.
His smile faded, and his eyes shifted to her cat before coming to rest on her again. “What is it?”
“I need you to listen. And I need you not to get upset.”
The change in him was immediate. His jaw tightened, his shoulders squared, and the warmth in his eyes cooled into something careful and professional. She watched it happen and hated every second of it. “Are you and Princess Muffin Top the vandals?”
“No!” She took a breath. “But I know who is. I have them waiting outside.”
“Is that so?”
Mason rose, and she quickly stepped back into the main area of the station, motioning for Mrs. Abernathy in front of the window. He sidled up next to her as Princess Muffin Top jumped up onto Cassie’s chair.
The front door opened, and Mrs. Abernathy walked in.
She was still wearing her lavender cardigan and her house slippers, her purse clutched in both hands, and she looked exactly like what she was...
a ninety-seven-year-old witch who had absolutely no business being in a police station on a Sunday evening.
“Hello, Chief,” Mrs. Abernathy said pleasantly.
Mason stared at her. Then he looked at Adeline. Then back at Mrs. Abernathy.
“Seriously?” he said. “You’re the vandal?”
Mrs. Abernathy smiled. “I prefer the term ‘activist with advanced glitter capabilities.’ But yes, dear. It was me.”
“For the record,” Princess Muffin Top said, “I had nothing to do with it. But I wish I had.”