Potions and Puzzles: The Whitewood Witches of Fennelmoore, #2

By Agnes Lester Brown

The Whitewood Witches are super-excited when their home, the quaint village of Fennelmoore is chosen to host the celebrity-studded World Crossword Tournament competition. But soon there's disturbing evidence of dark shenanigans in the weird, whimsical world of crosswording that threatens to throw the competition into disarray. Things take a turn for the worse when a corpse with a mysterious crossword tattooed on its back surfaces at the celebrity-studded event. Touched by her brief acquaintance with the murdered man, feisty Lori Whitewood is soon confronted by a deceptive web of greed and deceit while pursuing a twisted maniac before he strikes again. Forced to rely on her witchy wits she has to overcome the belligerent  crossword mogul Kermit Greenstone while working with the half-witted Chief Winters to  solve a mysterious riddle that holds the key to the truth. And when the dust settles, who will remain standing to become the next crossword world champion?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charl Durand
• Release date: Aug 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201421397

Agnes Lester Brown

I wrote my first story when I was six years old and yes, it was about puppies. I’ve kept writing ever since, in one form or another. Starting off as a newspaper reporter in the heyday of print media I later jumped ship to a long career in business writing, followed by blogging and writing for websites. For the past few years I’ve been rediscovering the joy and art of storytelling, crafting stories about magic, murder and mystery. Nothing makes me happier than browsing a whimsical second hand bookshop , home made vegetable soup on a cold winter’s evening, or devouring yet another whodunnit while snuggling with my Norwegian Forest cat, Matisse. You can see details of upcoming books and new series, as well as titbits on characters on my website at http://www.agneslesterbrown.com.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

A aaah… chooo!

Raucous laughter erupted around her as Lori wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She’d just had the heartiest sneeze she’d ever experienced and was now getting ready for the follow-up sneeze, which promised to be even more exuberant. Moments before, her two mischievous twenty-something cousins, the twin redheads, Rosie and Jasmine, had offered her a small sample of something to sniff—a light green powdery concoction they’d been experimenting with. Lori’s resulting sneeze had not only caused her to tear up but had also blown the rest of the supposedly magic powder into the air. A faint green cloud of dust now hung above the worn wooden table they used to prepare the potions for which the Whitewood Witches were famous in the witch community.

The commotion going on around her woke Granny Fae up from her snooze. She looked around, startled. She’d been dozing off in her worn-out wicker chair with Trixi, the Whitewood’s black cat, fast asleep on her lap in a corner of the cluttered basement that served as the headquarters for their online mail-order potion business, the Potion Portal. Trixi leapt up instantly and escaped under the table.

What was that? Sounded like a steam train just passed through here! Fae said, disoriented.

Don’t worry, Mother, Lori’s aunt Hazel said, trying to contain her giggling. It’s just these two hooligans fooling around with the recipe for the Invisible Shield protection potion sachets they’re supposed to be packing. Silly girls—they thought it would make Lori glow in the dark, but all it did was make her sneeze. She took a few bushels of huckleberry and castor leaves from the hooks that covered the walls and handed them to Rosie, the eldest of the twins. Come on, daughter, she scolded. Let’s get a move on. We have a long list of orders to fill!

It was Thursday, the one day of the week the Whitewood family spent working in their clandestine potion preparation room at the back of Lori’s health shop, the Wholesome. No one would guess what went on behind the innocuous-looking brown cellar door behind the counter of her neat, well-stocked shop. In one corner of the secret room, a growing stack of love potion sachets—their most popular product—were waiting to be packed into cartons labeled Handle with Care and shipped to their buyers.

Lori, wearing a brightly colored tie-dyed apron, stood at one end of the table, chopping a bowl of tiny dried brown mushrooms. When she finished, she added them to another bowl containing a pitch-black liquid. She poured the resulting mush into small bottles labeled Extra Strong Dark Force Repellent. They’d had a case recently where a buyer had used the potion to avoid car payments, and now they were much more careful about whom they sold it to. The family couldn’t afford for the Potion Portal to develop a bad reputation. This was, after all, their bread and butter.

I can’t read Granny’s handwriting, Jasmine whined, holding one of Fae’s spell books. Today she had been excused from helping in order to study for her upcoming spell exam at the Blonarts Academy of Magic. She slapped the spell book shut. I hate having to learn all these spells. When am I going to ever have to cast a spell that stops dogs from barking? She listlessly opened the book again, grumbling to herself. I need a spell to escape from spell homework.

Fae wagged a finger at her. One day, young Jasmine, you’ll understand why the world needs spells. We witches have a very important job to do—keeping evil at bay and making people happy. She scowled. And casting spells that keep Mrs. Marlowe’s dog across the street quiet at night.

Hazel tittered. Oh, so that’s why her poodle has been so pleasantly quiet lately. I thought the poor thing had died.

None of this will help me be a better public relations officer for Fennelmoore, Jasmine complained. Fresh out of college, where she’d earned a degree in marketing, she’d recently been appointed to the mayor’s office to promote their hometown to tourists. She’d worked hard to help establish the quaint, picturesque town at the foothills of the Rising Mountains as a popular and attractive convention destination, and lately her efforts had started showing results, with a number of large events of all sorts making the town their home.

You should be marketing the Potion Portal, Rosie, a self-proclaimed geek, opined. She’d now moved to her laptop and was tapping away as she updated the Potion Portal website with newly added product lines. She wriggled her nose, which sported a flashy golden ring. I should show you the amazing things we could do with social media. She chuckled. Imagine what would happen if our ‘Jilted Lover’s Revenge’ potion went viral!

Amused, Lori listened to the family banter. True, the twins could be zany and boisterous youngsters when the mood struck them. Her granny was an old, cynical, and bad-tempered battle-axe, and her aunt a stern drill sergeant, but she loved them to bits. This was her safe space, and the one place she felt truly at home. She was loved and trusted here.

A melodic tinkle interrupted the conversation. Lori leapt up, relieved to get a break from the rather mundane task of packing. The familiar ringing was triggered by someone coming in the Wholesome’s front door upstairs, possibly a client of the shop.

As she closed the door behind her, Lori saw a familiar figure standing on the other side of the counter. It was the tall, broad frame of Nick Dupont, owner of the Misty Hills Inn, Fennelmoore’s only hotel. Lori was a little surprised to see him. Normally it was his wife, Penelope, who came around to collect her regular supply of herbal elixirs. Lori had become friendly with Nick while helping him with events at the inn, and she knew he wasn’t much into health remedies.

Hi, Nick, haven’t seen you in a while, Lori said, giving him a friendly smile. I take it you’re here to collect Penelope’s regular order?

Nick gave her a shy smile and shifted around awkwardly. Hi, Lori. Yes, I’m here to collect Penny’s, uh, stuff. Lori took a package from a shelf behind her and handed it to Nick. Thanks, Nick said, looking relieved to have the errand his wife had sent him on out of the way.

---

I also have other news I’ve come to talk to you about, Nick said as he took the package and paid for it.

With pleasure. Lori gestured to the white-painted wrought-iron coffee table and chairs that stood in a sunny corner of the shop. She’d recently placed them there so she could serve her regular clients the herbal teas and peanut butter cookies Aunt Hazel made. It worked well, and provided a little bit of extra income too. More often than not, she would join clients at the table for a chat, like she was doing now as she joined Nick at the table. After all, many of them were old friends of hers.

Lori poured a cup of tea for herself and handed Nick a mug of coffee. How’s the inn going? Getting lots of people staying there?

Nick had beamed a moment before while munching one of Hazel’s cookies, but now he looked worried. It’s been a very quiet season, Lori. Seems the bad weather has been scaring people into staying away from Fennelmoore. We’ve hosted a few weddings and small events, but not nearly enough to cover the bills. I even had to lay off some staff a few days ago.

Lori sympathized as she listened to Nick.

But enough singing the blues. Nick perked up. There are new opportunities showing themselves. Listen to this. He sat forward. You know I’m a crossword fanatic, right? Well, last week I competed in a small regional crossword tournament outside of town. Nothing big, and I didn’t do that well, but guess who was there? Nick smiled a toothy smile. Only the great Kermit Greenstone!

While Nick might be in total in awe of this Kermit Greenstone, Lori didn’t have a clue who he was talking about. Her face must’ve shown that, because Nick seemed a little disappointed at her nonreaction.

Come on, Lori. You’ve never heard of Kermit Greenstone, the famous owner of the World Champion Crossword Tournament?

Lori decided to humor Nick and played along.

"Oh, you mean the Kermit Greenstone? You’re kidding me, Nick! What on earth was he doing there? Did you talk to him?"

Nick caught onto Lori’s enthusiasm. Sure was, the man himself. I went over to him and introduced myself and bought us a round of scotch. He said he was there to scout for crossword talent—heaven knows why, because it was such a small-fry tournament. Anyway, turns out he and I had a lot in common and got on like a house on fire. We talked till way past dinnertime about the legends of crosswording. Nick rubbed his eyes. Even now, I can’t believe I met such a great man!

Lori listened patiently to Nick, but she was really itching to get back to work. Clearly Nick had mistaken her for a crossword fanatic. She was happy for him, but who Kermit Whatever was hardly mattered in her world. She had a business to run. She started clearing the cups off the table and looked at her watch.

That’s fantastic, Nick. I’m so glad you had a good time at the tournament. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to—

Nick pulled her down back into her seat. Lori, please don’t go yet. You have to listen to this. I haven’t told you the best part yet.

Lori wasn’t expecting a world-changing announcement, but she sat back down again on the edge of her chair, ready to get up again.

Nick leaned forward, his eyes narrowed in excitement. Kermit’s bringing the World Championship Crossword Tournament to Fennelmoore. This is the biggest news ever to hit this town.

Lori gave Nick a deadpan look.

I can see you’re not buying it yet, but take a look at this. Nick dug into his jacket pocket for his phone and searched through his photo gallery. Ah, here it is. He turned the screen for Lori to see.

Check this out and tell me you’re not excited.

Lori almost dropped the cups she was holding when she looked at the photo. On the left was a tall, scrawny man in his fifties in a gaudy lime-green jacket, standing next to a handsome, heavily tattooed guy wearing a gold chain around his neck and a pair of oversized pink sunglasses. The scene looked more like something out of a television game show than a crossword competition.

Is this Kermit? Lori asked, pointing to the man in the green jacket. Nick nodded.

The photo was of some sort of prize giving. Kermit was handing the man next to him a giant check made out to Alvin Parkinson. But it was the amount written on the check in black capital letters that that caught her eye.

FIVE MILLION DOLLARS

Lori stared at the photo in disbelief. Who would’ve thought there was that sort of money to be had by solving crossword puzzles?

That’s Kermit and last year’s world champion, Alvin Parkinson, at the previous World Champion Crossword Tournament, Nick said as Lori handed his phone back. That was the third time Alvin had won, something no one has accomplished before, ever.

So, you hung out with this guy who stages a crossword puzzle competition where you win that sort of cash, Lori said, just to make sure she was getting it right.

Nick leaned forward, gushing with excitement and talking with his hands. "People in the know are predicting crosswording will be the next big thing in television reality shows. It’s going to be bigger than all those cooking and singing competitions. Sponsors and rich crosswords enthusiasts are pouring money into the event. It now has prime time television coverage too. Forget about Big Brother and Survivor. The World Champion Crossword Tournament is going to be the thing to watch. It’s as huge as those big poker tournaments you see on television where the winners take home crazy amounts of cash. And here’s the clincher, Lori. He wants to host the next tournament here in Fennelmoore, at the Misty Hills Inn!"

Lori looked at Nick in disbelief. All because you guys had a great time over a few whiskeys?

Kermit said he wanted to host the next tournament here because there were too many distractions in the big cities. Also, the tournament drew a lot of bad press after some of the participants misbehaved. Nick frowned. You won’t believe it. Some of them are really, really weird characters. Absolutely geniuses, but a bit… Nick twirled his finger next to his ear.

Lori smiled at Nick’s enthusiasm. That’s great, Nick. I hope you’re getting a percentage of that prize money.

Nick took the last cookie from the plate and started munching it. He toasted Lori with the cookie. Still the best baker ever, your aunt Hazel, he said, and then