Fated

Grandma Betty was still missing! Six weeks had passed, and I was no closer to bringing her home. I was starting to get desperate! Thankfully, Detective Theodore Abrams had a trick up his sleeve. With a little elbow grease and some help from my non-corporeal friend, I found an enchanted journal that belonged to Grandma Betty. Unfortunately, Grandma Betty went to great lengths to keep the contents of the journal a secret. Would the contents of the journal hold a revelation spell that would finally bring Grandma Betty home?!

Maybe. One small problem: It was locked in a binding spell, and Grandma Betty was the only witch who could open it.

There was only one way that I would get that journal open. I had to go through the mirror and travel back in time. I wasn't looking forward to it, either. The mirror and I weren't on good terms. It didn't matter, though. I would suck it up if it meant I could have my grandma back! I would endure the childish insults of the magic mirror, travel to the past, and get Grandma Betty to unlock it. In and out, just like that! It would be easy, right?

Fat chance!

The Wallace of the 1950’s was the era of beehives, two-tone shoes, and backseat bingo. It was also the home of newly retired pop musician, Johnny Preston. Johnny Preston was the heart-throb of the 1950’s. His pouty lips and salacious dance moves drove women wild! All over the world, women lost their minds for him. A little over a year ago, Johnny Preston left the stage behind to settle in our quaint little town. He had planned to take it easy. Well, he did anything but! He left a trail of beautiful women in his wake, drumming up plenty of enemies in the process. Sadly, he was found dead in the WhistlePig Pub’s dunk tank. How did a completely sober adult man, without any indication of a head injury, drown in a shallow pool of water?

Megan Peterson, Grandma Betty’s very best friend, was the top suspect in Mr. Preston’s mysterious death. We had to help clear her name. Once again, Grandma Betty and I put our sleuth caps on and got straight to work. Everyone in Wallace seemed to want Johnny dead or, at the very least, maimed. Grandma Betty and I had our work cut out for us.

Too bad the killer had us spinning our wheels at every turn.