Looking for Mr. Good Witch by Joyce and Jim Lavene

Beach.
    I still had to sweep up the spilled herb. Phoebe waited for a few minutes, and then one of her friends came into the shop and claimed her attention.
    â€œSorry, Molly,” Olivia said. “It was all I could think to do on the spur of the moment, and then it almost didn’t work. What does Phoebe think she’s going to accomplish with that petition? All she’s going to do is rile up the council.”
    â€œI guess if you’re afraid or worried enough it doesn’t matter.” I swept up the mess and went to dump the dustpan into the trash container in the supply closet. When I opened the door, the Bone Man was standing there, grinning at me.
    I dropped the dustpan and the broom. What was it with him and closets?
    â€œWill you speak to me now?” I asked in a low voice, not wanting to attract attention.
    But it was as though he were nothing but a shadow. He stood there without moving or speaking for a moment and then disappeared again.
    â€œDo you need help with that?” Dorothy came up behind me. “I think Kay found a robe she wants. I’m not sure how to work the cash register, with or without magic.”
    â€œYes.” I took a deep breath and gathered my scattered wits.What did it mean? Why was the Bone Man haunting my closets?
    I rang up Kay’s purchase of a beautiful sea green robe. She was very excited about the big celebration. It was the first of its kind in Wilmington. Usually witches met privately and kept their activities secret.
    In recent years, the council had encouraged us to go out and celebrate the full moon and other important events more openly in the hope that other witches would join in. It seemed to be working, as there appeared to be more witches in the city, where they had once hanged our kind.
    â€œIt’s going to be a good strong moon too,” Kay said. “I’m very excited.”
    â€œSo am I.” I bagged her purchase and handed it to her. “I hope to see you there. Blessed Be, my friend.”
    Portia de Winter came in with a lovely, warm smile for everyone. She was in charge of getting the full moon celebration going. The council had tasked her with the responsibility of making our events more visible.
    She was a beautiful, older witch with long silver hair and sharp, blue eyes. She dressed well, always wearing a colorful ankle-length skirt. She was ready for the full moon in a gorgeous silver cotton that almost matched the color of her hair.
    I couldn’t think of a better choice for a witch who had to go out among other witches and spread the word. Witches could be clannish and, sometimes, rude to strangers. Portia had a way about her. She was friendly and appealing.
    She nodded to the witches she knew as she came into the shop, and shook hands with those she didn’t know, introducing herself to everyone in Smuggler’s Arcane.
    â€œGood afternoon, Molly.” Portia came up and took my hand. “I can see you’re very busy. I hope a lot of this is for the celebration.”
    â€œI’m sure it is.”
    Dorothy was finished cleaning up the lemon balm I’d dropped. She eagerly shook hands with Portia. “How are you? I’m so looking forward to my first full moon celebration. I can’t believe I missed out all these years.”
    â€œWe’ll just have to make up for that by having the best celebration ever,” Portia responded with excitement in her blue eyes. She was a water witch, like me, but with much stronger magic.
    â€œGreat! I can’t wait.”
    Portia worked for the council, and was also the only council representative we’d met who didn’t immediately spurn Olivia’s presence. “Hello, Olivia. How are you today?”
    â€œI’m just fine, except for a growing feeling of loss regarding my magic. My own familiar, Barnabas, refuses to come back home. I still feel like a witch, but I’m reviled by my own kind. It’s very difficult