“Let me see that!”

Adam grabs the little purse from my hand and walks a few paces away as if it is some WW2 landmine. Gabe too catches up quickly to see what I have found. Olly obviously follows him, but thankfully, she is now focussing on the surroundings.

“It’s Mrs. Bates’s tobacco pouch!” she says in an excited voice. “Looks like she dropped it. Poor Mrs. Bates! She’s gonna miss it!”

Adam looks at Olly, then back at the pouch. Holding it up carefully with his thumb and index finger, he frowns at it as if it were a dead rat.

“Urrmm…it’s just a leather pouch.” I supply, pressing my lips. “Mrs. Bates carried it around all the time. She said it was from her mother.”

“And did she ever say who or where her mother was? Any mention of places? Names?” he asks, raising his good eyebrow.

“If she did, it was to Grandma. We do not remember any such details.” That is true. I am surprised as I realize how little we know about the women we grew up with.

Adam purses his lips and unties the string around the pouch’s neck. It’s an old-fashioned leather purse that Mrs. Bates had gotten as a gift for Olly on her thirteenth birthday. Olly never used it, but it was lying at the bottom of her makeup box. Today is the first time Olly has gotten it out.

It has Mrs. Bates’s ‘scent’ on it, whatever that means, mixed with the scent of Olly’s beauty products. It should be enough to either convince or confuse Mr Detective here, which was my general idea.

I watch him with bated breath. He is sniffing it like a dog. He scrunches his nose and closes his eyes as if he’s trying to remember something. I feel my throat going dry.

He must be trying to match it with the witch-scent he remembers. Will he be able to catch my lie?

On the same thirteenth birthday, Mrs Bates had gifted me a small snuffbox with contents that had sent me on a sneezing spree. It was so bad, I almost sneezed my heart out. I had never opened it again and threw it at the bottom of my stationary drawer.

It came here along with my stationary and now it sits inside the pouch. I am patting my back to put it to such good use.

“What’s this?” Adam fishes the little circular metal box out and pulls open the lid to sniff at its contents. It’s been eight years and I have no idea what the effect will be. He does not sneeze but gags as if being sick, before capping it back on.

“The scent matches,” he says, looking at me. I exhale, confused. Did Mrs. Bates give me her ear wax or something?

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“But that’s hardly a clue.” Adam grumbles. “Have you found anything else?”

Anything else? I did not have enough time to plant anything else while he was on my tail. Hell, my baggy jeans pocket is just about large enough to hide this pouch. What else does he expect? Breadcrumbs to lead us to a gingerbread house?

“Umm…not really. It’s unlikely that Mrs Bates would conveniently drop everything she owned just to leave us clues. Can you not use your fantastic sense of smell to catch her from here?” Like a hunting dog?

I blink my eyes innocently. Adam grits his teeth.

“It’s not a strong enough smell. And it does not lead anywhere…just lingers around here. I have looked around the area in vain.”

“Hmm. Tough luck, I guess.” I shrug. Maybe Mrs Bates is indeed a witch. Maybe she vanished on the spot when she saw the face of the boulder we hit. Or maybe a portal opened right here to swallow her whole.

“But you said you had some other information.” Gabe reminds as we start dispersing again. It’s getting late. A golden orange glow has settled over the forest. Inland, it looks grey with gathering fog. We should get going, something tells me, but I do not pay it attention.

“Yes, you said you have some information you thought was too unimportant to share. What is it?” Adam asks.

“Oh, just this and that.” I shrug. “Like Mrs. Bates loves pizza. She loves the half and half – ham and pepperoni with veggie supreme.”

“I see,” comes a cold response, as a red-hot beam focuses on me. I shiver and look away.

“She also loves red wine.” Olly chips in. Her eyes sparkle as she remembers Mrs Bates’s favourite pastime. It was in Mrs Bates’s room that we tasted our first alcoholic drink. “She used to steal from granny’s cellar when she thought no one was looking. But we always knew.”

“Anything else?” Gabe is restless. He gives Adam a look, but he is too focussed on us.

“Yes, anything else? You girls need to think carefully. This is a very serious matter.” Adam’s voice is urgent. I shrug.

“But it’s so trivial…”

“That’s for me to decide.”

“Really, Mr Stevens. I cannot possibly…”

“Please, Ms Winters. I insist.”

Well then… I press a snort. You asked for it.

“Mrs Bates was about five feet one and weighed probably sixty pounds. She loved wearing flowery clothes.”

“Her hair was mousy, dark brown, always put up in a bun,” Olly puts in. “And she loved scrunchies, velvet scrunchies.” she adds as an afterthought.

“She brushed her teeth thrice a day but bathed only once a week.” - I complain. I still remember the stink.

“There was a big hairy wart on her left buttock.” Olly remembers to our general astonishment. “I saw it once when…”

“Fish-and-chips was her favourite food.” I cut in to shut her up.

“In her room was a poster of Brad Pitt right above her bed.” Olly doesn’t want to be left behind. “Sometimes in the night we used to hear…”

“Green is her favourite colour.” I interrupt hastily.

“No, Danny. It is pink.” She corrects me, annoyed. “Mrs Bates loved hot pink. She even had a pink, sexy nighty that she got online. It was a lacy Victoria’s Secret number. She told me she was gonna wear it when…”

Olly’s voice trails away. The two men are staring at her with mixed expressions. Gabe is about to burst out laughing. Adam is about to explode with anger.

“Do you think this is a joke?” He thunders, rounding on me, taking a menacing step forward. I am standing on a small dirt mound, yet he towers over me. “I said I need anything that will lead me to…”

“And I already warned it was too unimportant to share…”

A high-pitched cackle pierces the air as heavy footsteps scrape the forest floor behind us. All of us look simultaneously. We have company. It looks like we are surrounded by some weird-looking people.

***** *****