“Tell me about Hemlock Cove.”
Chris sat in the passenger seat of the rented Chevy Tahoe and cast an expectant look in Jack’s direction as the younger man navigated the rutted two-lane blacktop that led toward the small Michigan hamlet.
“It’s wacky,” Jack replied, his tone dry.
Chris cocked a dubious eyebrow. “Wacky? Can you be more specific?”
I sat in the back seat next to Millie and glanced at her to see if she was following the conversation. The wackiness level of Hemlock Cove was apparently the furthest thing from her mind, though, because she was fast asleep. She slept during the entire plane ride to Michigan – the Legacy Foundation boasts its own private plane – and barely woke long enough to climb into the Tahoe at the airport before Jack sped away. Bernard, Laura and Hannah rode in a second vehicle with the bulk of our equipment. I wasn’t upset about the driving configuration because it meant I didn’t have to spend more time with Laura.
“The town used to be called Walkerville,” Jack volunteered. “Several years ago they decided to turn their misfortune into a tourist trap. It seems that when the manufacturing base dried up the town council decided to rebrand. They’ve turned the town into a magical refuge for geeks who like witches, wizards, ghosts and other odd stuff like that.”
I leaned forward, intrigued. “They rebranded the town as magical? But … how?”
Jack shrugged, not bothering to meet my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Something about everyone in town being witches and wizards and stuff. They have a boatload of festivals from what I can gather. Information on the town isn’t exactly flowing because it has one newspaper – The Whistler – and it’s a weekly. I looked through about eight previous editions. Each one was essentially an advertorial for a festival.”
“Sounds kind of fun,” I admitted. “Is anyone there really a witch?”
Jack’s swivel was slow and I couldn’t help but worry about him ignoring the road so he could pin me with a hard look. “You believe in witches?”
I nodded without hesitation. “How can you do this job if you don’t believe in witches?”
“It’s not too difficult.”
Chris chuckled as he shifted in his seat. “Don’t let Jack get to you, Charlie. He’s a non-believer.”
“Then why does he work with us?”
“Because he’s good at what he does, and we need a solid security guy in place on many of our jobs,” Chris replied, matter-of-fact. “Jack knows what he’s doing and he’s loyal. If he doesn’t happen to believe the same things we do … well … it’s not the end of the world.”
It sounded like the end of the world to me. Of course, I wasn’t in charge of hiring. “What about the residents of Hemlock Cove, though?” I pressed. “Do any of them claim to really be witches?”
“Not that I can tell.” Jack appeared to be amused by the question, his fingers light as they tapped the steering wheel. “It seems to be one big in-joke. The entire town plays a part in it. The town pretends it’s magically imbued by some great power. The tourists eat it up. The shops are theme stores and there are kitschy bakeries and tons of inns in the area. It must be working for them.”
Something about the story didn’t make sense. “So someone was killed by Bigfoot in a town run by witches? You don’t find that strange?”
“Fair point,” Jack conceded. “Michigan has a lot of Bigfoot legends. I saw a few of them when I ran a cursory search before packing for the trip. I plan to continue later tonight if I get the chance.”
“I read up a bit on the plane,” Chris offered. “Most people in the area agree something lives in the woods, but they don’t call it Bigfoot. I’m not a fan of that name either. I prefer hominid or hominid-like creature. I can even tolerate Sasquatch. As for Michiganders, though, they call it the Dog Man.”
I rubbed my cheek as I absorbed the statement. “It’s essentially Bigfoot, though, right?”
“We don’t know what it is,” Chris answered. “I don’t like jumping to conclusions until I get more information. This is your first case, so you’re bound to be excited. I can forgive anything when it’s accompanied by enthusiasm. I get that you will be bouncing all over the place. Just don’t let your excitement get the better of you.”
“I’ll try to refrain,” I said dryly, lifting my chin as the town ahead took shape. There wasn’t much to it – two main roads and a handful of businesses – but what I could see was downright adorable. “Oh, wow! It’s cute.”
“That’s not how I’d describe it,” Jack said, his eyes shifting to Hemlock Cove’s main drag as he navigated through the sparse town. “There’s no gas station.”
“Yeah, um, I believe there’s one on the south side of town,” Chris offered. “I looked at a regional map on the plane, too. The inn we’re staying at is a good ten miles from the gas station, so keep that in mind so we don’t run out of gas.”
“Yes, that would suck,” Jack muttered.
“Especially if the Dog Man is out there to get us,” I teased, smiling as we stopped at a light near a cute magic shop named Hypnotic. The sign in the window said “Drink Up, Witches” and featured a painted silhouette of a witch sitting in a martini glass. “I love this place.”
“You haven’t even seen this place,” Jack countered, annoyance evident in his voice. He clearly wasn’t a fan of unrestrained enthusiasm. I refused to let that bother me despite his determination to be a killjoy.
“I’ve seen enough,” I said, smiling at the picturesque town square. “Look. There’s a festival going on. I wonder what it’s for.”
“It’s spring, so it’s probably a spring fling or something,” Chris noted. “Look. They have a kissing booth. I haven’t seen one of those since I was a kid.”
“They also have an old lady running around in a combat helmet,” Jack observed, pointing at an elderly woman in camouflage fatigues as she scurried through the parking lot that led to the newspaper office. “Holy cripes! That woman has a shotgun in her hand.”
“And a whistle,” I added, grinning. I had no idea what the woman was doing – or why she was going into the newspaper office – but I was a big fan of eccentric personalities. “What do you think she needs the whistle for?”
“Probably to tell Bigfoot she’s coming after him,” Jack replied. “That’s probably why she’s carrying the gun, right?” He looked worried when he asked the question, tilting his head when he saw a blond woman appear at the newspaper door. She made big gestures as she talked to the older woman with the gun, but she didn’t appear to be in any immediate danger.
“She’s cute,” Chris noted.
“The woman with the gun? Just darling,” Jack muttered.
“Not her.” Chris chuckled, genuinely amused. “I was talking about the blonde. Perhaps I’ll have to stop in at the newspaper office for some research.”
“Won’t that cut into the time you spend mooning over Hannah?” Jack asked, not missing a beat.
For some reason I couldn’t identify, my stomach rolled. Having Chris’ crush on Hannah verified was mildly disappointing. It’s not as if I took the job to find a boyfriend, I reminded myself. I wanted to do something important, something that would lead me to answers about my own abilities. Still, a little eye candy never hurt anyone. If that eye candy belonged to someone else, though, that was a different story.
“I don’t ‘moon’ over Hannah.” Chris’ cheeks burned bright as he stared out the passenger window. “Geez. Why would you say that?”
“I’ve got eyes,” Jack replied, turning his attention to the GPS unit on the dashboard. “According to this, we need to stay on this road until we see a lighthouse. That’s where we park. Then we hike a bit behind the lighthouse to find the body. The police chief will be waiting for us.”
The body. I’d almost forgotten we were in Hemlock Cove to investigate a murder – or potential Dog Man attack. It could honestly go either way, and that’s what made this first case so magical. “Is it wrong that I’m excited?�
� I asked finally, feeling rather guilty.
“Not at all,” Millie answered, taking me by surprise with her wakefulness. I thought she was completely out. “Someone remind me to get a combat helmet when we have a chance to shop later. I totally liked that woman’s style.”
Chris snorted. “You never cease to amaze me, Millie. That’s why you’re my favorite aunt.”
“Right back at you, kid.” Millie smoothed her hair as she straightened. “Now, let’s find Bigfoot. I’m dying to ask who does his hair.”
I HOPPED out of the Tahoe and groaned as I stretched my legs. The nearest airport was a little more than an hour away. By the time we disembarked, loaded the vehicles with supplies and then drove to Hemlock Cove, my legs and back felt stiff and sore.
The lighthouse – known in all the reading material as the Dandridge – was easy to find. A group of people stood talking in front of the picturesque building as we gathered our group. I took a moment to study the new faces, noticing the odd configuration of three men and one woman. The chief of police was easy enough to pick out because of his uniform, but the two men standing beside him were harder to gauge.
One man had dark hair and eyes. He stood with his arm protectively around a short woman with long dark hair. She looked upset as she spoke to the police chief. The dark-haired man was obviously trying to console her. So was the police chief, for that matter. He rested his hand on her shoulder a few times as she spoke, but I was fairly certain she was crying.
“I bet she found the body,” I murmured. I was mostly talking to myself, but because Jack exited the Tahoe on the same side as me he heard the words.
“She does look upset.” Jack narrowed his eyes. “My understanding is that a couple of people live in the lighthouse. I suggested we camp there when I talked to the chief, but he shot that down quickly.”
“You wanted to camp in the lighthouse?” I was mildly impressed with Jack’s suggestion … and willingness to isolate himself in the face of danger. “That would’ve kept us closer to the scene. It’s too bad that’s not possible.”
“Hannah and Laura prefer hotel rooms,” Jack supplied. “They’re not big on camping – especially Laura – so we would’ve had rooms to shower and rest in regardless. We’ll play it by ear and figure it out.”
“What about the other guy?” I asked, my eyes zeroing in on the man who stood out in the small crowd. He was tall, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. He looked as if he and not the chief was in charge, yet he had long hair, almost as long as Jack’s, and wore street clothes. “He doesn’t look like a cop.”
“He’s not,” Jack said, following my gaze. “He’s FBI.”
“You know him?”
Jack shook his head. “He has the certain look. And the police chief told me they had a Fed dedicated to the area on the way.”
“How can he be a Fed with long hair like that?”
Jack shrugged. “Some people just like long hair.” He offered me a half-hearted wink as my cheeks burned. “Some women like it, too.” He turned his attention from me and met Chris’ gaze across the hood of the Tahoe. “Let’s introduce ourselves.”
The foursome studied us with unveiled interest as we approached. I plastered a wide smile on my face and locked gazes with the woman first to take the edge off my nervousness. She seemed friendly, perhaps a little scattered. I opened my mouth to greet her, but the men took control of the situation before I could.
“I’m Chris Biggs. We’re with the Legacy Foundation. This is Jack Hanson. I believe you talked to him on the phone?”
“Yeah, I did. I’m Terry Davenport. I’m the chief of police here in Hemlock Cove.” The chief shook hands with Chris and Jack, offering Millie and me a stiff nod before turning to his comrades. “This is Landon Michaels. He’s with the FBI. This is Sam Cornell and Clove Winchester. They live in the Dandridge.”
Everyone exchanged handshakes and head bobs by way of greeting, and I found my attention bouncing between the FBI agent and the small woman standing between him and Sam Cornell.
“Did you find the body?” I asked the question before I considered the intelligence associated with uttering it.
Clove – she honestly looked like a Clove, which was weird – nodded. “I did. I was taking a walk to see if part of the path needed to be re-graveled – we’ve been working on making this a haunted attraction for a bit – and that’s when I found it.”
“She called me,” Sam added. “I came out to see and … well … that’s when I called Chief Terry.”
“Do you know if the victim is a man or a woman?” Jack asked, all business.
“It’s a woman,” Landon answered. “We had to move her to the morgue. I know you wanted to see the entire scene as it was, but we couldn’t risk scavengers or inclement weather. There’s a potential storm blowing through tonight. We took photos, though.”
“I’m still confused as to what you do,” the chief admitted, rubbing his chin. “Landon suggested I call you when we found a strange set of animal tracks – he said you might be able to help us – but I haven’t been able to do much research on you because you don’t have a website.”
“That’s by design,” Chris offered. “We like to keep our operation out of the headlines. It’s not about getting accolades or media attention. We simply like finding the truth.”
“And that’s what you’re doing here?” the chief pressed. “You’re looking for the truth?”
“That’s the one thing we care about most of all,” Chris replied. “As for the body, I understand. I can send Hannah to the medical examiner’s office. She’s used to cutting through government red tape.”
“Perhaps you could share her with my office once she’s done,” Landon, the FBI agent, joked, his eyes heavy-lidded as he maintained control of the converging factions. “I hate red tape.”
“She’s perfectly happy with our group,” Chris replied primly, his tone taking me by surprise. Laura and Hannah remained in the Dandridge parking lot, yet Chris acted as if the FBI agent was hitting on her in front of him.
“I was just … never mind.” Landon shook his head and exchanged a quick look with the chief. “I can take you to the scene and show you around. If you have people who want to go to the medical examiner’s office Chief Terry can handle transportation and directions.”
“Sounds great,” Jack said, smiling. “Also, when we leave, I was hoping one of you could point me in the right direction. I can’t seem to find the inn we’re staying at on the map. I don’t want to risk getting lost.”
“What inn?” Landon asked.
“Umm … The Overlook.”
I didn’t miss the quick look Landon and the chief exchanged as Clove widened her eyes.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, legitimately curious.
“Nothing is wrong,” Landon replied after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s actually convenient that you’ll be at The Overlook.”
“Why is that?” Chris asked, his eyes narrow.
“I live on the grounds with my girlfriend,” Landon replied. “Her family owns the inn.”
“They’re my family, too,” Clove pointed out.
“I could never forget that.” Landon flashed her a saccharine smile. “Well, let’s get this train moving. You’ll want to survey the scene and then get settled in your room. If you’re late for dinner, you’ll go hungry.”
Chris balked. “They won’t feed us if we’re late for dinner? That doesn’t sound like a very good inn.”
“It’s the best inn around these parts,” the chief supplied. “It’s the best food you’ll ever eat, in fact. The women who run it simply don’t like people being late.”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to work around the rules.” Chris forced a smile. “Um, how about I send Laura and Hannah to the medical examiner’s office with you, Chief Davenport? The rest of us will check out the scene of the attack.”
“That sounds fine.” The chief moved to walk toward the parking lot, but slowed when Sam
offered a quick word of advice.
“Good luck at The Overlook. You’re going to need it.”
“You’re so not funny,” Clove complained, flicking his ear. “I’m going to tell Aunt Tillie you said that.”
I had no idea who Aunt Tillie was, but Sam looked positively apoplectic at the threat.
“I take it back.”
Hmm. Hemlock Cove was going to prove even more interesting than I originally thought. I could already feel it.
Three
“So people actually live out here?”
I cast a glance over my shoulder as I followed Chris, Jack and the FBI agent into the thick forest. Clove and her boyfriend went inside the lighthouse, their heads bent together as they whispered to each other and left us to our exploration. I couldn’t dislodge the shaken look on Clove’s face from my mind, the expression almost traumatic.
“Sam and Clove do,” Landon replied. “Sam bought the Dandridge about a year ago or so. Clove moved in with him a few months ago.”
“It must be cool to live in a lighthouse.”
Landon shrugged. “Clove seems to like it.”
“Do you know her well?”
If Landon was put off by my questions he didn’t show it. “My girlfriend and Clove are cousins, although they’re more like sisters. They lived together – actually, with another cousin, too – until recently. Now I live in the guesthouse with Bay, and Thistle lives in town with her boyfriend Marcus.”
“Bay, Clove and Thistle?” Jack didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Someone had a sense of humor.”
“Their mothers are … unique.” Landon didn’t sound disparaging when he said the word. He looked almost wistful. “You’ll find that out when you check into the inn.”
“And will you be there?” I had no idea why I found him so fascinating – perhaps it was the smile that curved his lips when he talked about his girlfriend and he thought no one was looking – but I couldn’t stop myself from staring.
“I’ll be at the guesthouse,” Landon replied. “It’s on the property. We eat dinner there quite often, and I’m sure tonight will be no different.”
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