Aunt Rosie Steals (It's All Relative Ghost Mystery Book 1) by Sara Bourgeois

Author:Sara Bourgeois [Bourgeois, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Caryse

“If Duke comes back every day looking for me, how long can we put him off?” Aunt Rosie complained. “You’re not that good of a liar. I don’t know how you got him to buy that I was too sick to come to the door in the first place.”

Caryse blushed. “I’m not so sure that I did,” she admitted. “But what was he going to do, break the door down?”

“Well, he will eventually, if we don’t give him something more,” Aunt Rosie declared. “This is all Myrtle’s and Bug’s fault. I’ve never been anything but polite to them.”

“Aunt Rosie, you told everyone that Myrtle was so skinny because she caught a worm on her trip to Mexico.”

Rosie harrumphed indignantly. “I did her a favor,” she insisted. “You should have heard what the rest of the town was saying.”

“Besides,” Caryse continued, “I don’t think you can really blame Bug for any of this. He just wants his statue back.”

“He had no right to blame me,” Rosie argued. “But the only way to prove that is for you to use your magic. We need to figure out who did it, fast. We’re running out of time.”

Caryse sighed. Maybe her aunt had a point. She hated to admit it, but they were going to have to do something. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Just a little magic?” Caryse questioned. “Just enough to clear your name.”

“Just that,” Rosie agreed. “But if we’re already at it, we might as well throw in a little extra to teach Myrtle and Bug a lesson.”

Caryse stood up, ready to walk away.

“Okay, fine,” Aunt Rosie conceded. “We’ll start with clearing my name for now. We can discuss their punishment later.”

“Fine,” Caryse agreed. “I will learn some magic. Only because I absolutely have to. What first?”

Rosie clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, I never thought this day would come. It’s really a special moment, from one witch to another. Vincent, go find the camera.”

Vincent trotted off obediently.

“Now, you run upstairs and fetch my good spell book,” Rosie commanded. “It’s in my closet, next to my cowboy hat.”

“Why do you have a cowboy hat?” Caryse asked her.

“Because the monkeys kept stealing my safari hat,” she replied. “Now go.”

Caryse slowly climbed the stairs, feeling certain that she was going to regret this. But she retrieved the book anyway and brought it back down to the living room.

Vincent had returned with the camera. “How do I work this thing with hoofs?” he complained. “If I still had my magic, this would be a lot easier.”

“If you still had your magic, you would have been able to get me out of this mess already,” Aunt Rosie reminded him, “but you just had to show up Greta Henry’s raccoon. I still don’t understand what he did that got you so upset in the first place.”

Vincent had his magic powers stripped as retribution for fighting with the witch’s raccoon familiar. He had been allowed to keep his speaking ability, and that was all.

He had never disclosed what, specifically, had occurred between them.

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