Witchy Dreams

by Amanda M. Lee

  “What?” Jack was the picture of innocence as he shifted his eyes left and right. “I was stating a fact. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”

  “You were stating a fact? You were stating a fact?” I grew shriller by the second. I’d lost the ability to control my temper, a purple tulip exploding in the plant bed behind him. Jack was so focused on me he didn’t notice. I was relieved that I didn’t accidentally cause a tree branch to fly into his head.

  “I … um … .” Jack took an inadvertent step back, his cheeks flushing with color when Bay and Landon appeared on the walkway in front of him. They looked between us curiously as they headed toward Landon’s Explorer.

  “Everything okay?” Bay asked, worried, her eyes briefly touching on the former tulip before locking with mine.

  “Everything is fine,” Jack answered automatically.

  “Everything is pretty far from fine,” I growled, my annoyance taking over. “Jack here was just explaining that he’s not interested in me, so if I’m developing a crush on him I should probably stop.”

  “Oh.” Bay bit her lip, amusement flitting across her features.

  “That’s not what I said,” Jack argued. “I merely said that … if you had feelings … or looked at me with some sort of hero complex … or thought I was attractive … I don’t think I’m explaining this right.” Jack looked to Landon for help.

  “I’d stop digging if I were you, marine,” Landon agreed, his lips curving as he slung an arm around Bay’s shoulder. “You’re tap dancing through a minefield in clown shoes. I’m enjoying the effort, though. It kind of reminds me of when I first met Bay.”

  Bay’s smile was serene as she tilted up her chin. “You were desperately in love with me even though I wanted nothing to do with you.” Landon snorted. “It was the other way around, woman.”

  “It was not.”

  “It was so,” Landon shot back. “You were totally warm for my form.”

  “I was never warm for anything of yours,” Bay argued. “You chased me until I relented and agreed to go out with you. You totally had a crush on me first.”

  “That is such crap.” Landon’s eyes lit with amusement. “You cried when I left.”

  Bay stilled and I could see the revelry flee both of them as Landon’s words hit home. “I was talking about when we first met at the corn maze. I was not talking about when you left.”

  Landon clearly realized his mistake too late. Bay escaped from his grip and headed toward the Explorer. “Oh, sweetie, do we have to fight about this again?” He shot a dirty look in Jack’s direction. “This is your fault.”

  “How is this my fault?” Jack was dumbfounded. “I was trying to be a good guy.”

  Landon snorted. “Please. No woman wants to hear she has a crush on you before she admits it to herself.”

  “I do not have a crush on him,” I barked. “I don’t even like him!”

  Landon pursed his lips. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

  “That’s all I was trying to keep from happening,” Jack offered. “I was trying to be a good friend and co-worker.”

  “You keep telling yourself that too,” Landon said, his eyes following Bay as she pouted in the Explorer’s passenger seat. “If you said it, that means you’re worried about it.”

  “That is a pile of crap!” Jack’s voice took on an uneven edge. “I was trying to be a good guy about this.”

  Landon glanced between us and then shook his head. “You need to figure this out on your own. Keep Bay out of it next time. I don’t like her upset.”

  “I’m pretty sure you upset her,” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Charlie’s right,” Jack added. “You upset her.”

  Landon’s frustration was evident as he stepped off the curb. “You’re both on my list,” he muttered.

  “Let’s get breakfast,” I suggested. “I’m starving. We can forget the rest of this ever happened.”

  Jack looked relieved. “Affirmative.”

  It was definitely a plan – and one I had every intention of following. A crush on Jack? Freaking ridiculous!

  Twenty

  I headed straight for the dining room and grabbed an open seat, hoping to focus on breakfast rather than Jack’s oversized ego. Jack ignored the empty chair next to me and took the one next to Tillie – the one I was fairly certain Bay vacated before leaving the inn with Landon. I couldn’t stop myself from smirking at the way Tillie looked Jack up and down.

  “Breakfast looks great,” Jack said, forcing a nervous smile for Winnie’s benefit. “Camping always makes me hungry.”

  “I think that’s your big head,” I countered, not bothering to lower my voice. “It’s so big you probably need extra fuel to fill it.”

  Jack ignored me and grabbed a slice of bacon. I was almost positive I heard him grumble the word “whatever” under his breath, but the chatter was too loud to be sure.

  “Did you find anything?” Chris asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He looked well rested and keen, two things that irritated me beyond measure given the rough nature of my morning.

  “Well, it wasn’t an uneventful night,” I countered, smirking at the way Jack’s cheeks colored at my intended double entendre. “In fact, last night was the night to end all nights.”

  Thistle, a glass of orange juice resting in front of her, ran her tongue over her teeth as she stared. I could almost see the gears in her mind working.

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Laura prodded. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Jack growled.

  “I think I saw Bigfoot,” I offered, enjoying how Jack shifted on his chair.

  “Do you have ants in your pants, boy?” Tillie asked Jack, seemingly amused by his discomfort. “Camping is rough on delicate sorts such as you. If you have ants in your pants, you might want to take a bath or something.”

  “I don’t have ants in my pants.” Jack worked overtime to keep his voice pleasant and even, but I could read the set of his shoulders and knew he was close to falling off an angry cliff. He would erupt soon if pushed too far. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to see that or avoid it. “My back merely hurts from sleeping on the ground.”

  Tillie narrowed her eyes, dubious. “That’s not why you’re shifting.”

  “Yeah? Then why am I shifting?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet.” Tillie glanced between him and me, and I couldn’t stop myself from shifting my gaze quickly. “Hmm.”

  As if sensing I was about to melt down myself, Thistle raced to my rescue. “You said you saw Bigfoot. I’m dying to hear … and only partly because I’m going to use it to terrorize Clove until she cries.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Twila chided, scorching her daughter with a hard look. “Clove is a good girl. She has the right to feel safe in her own home. If you terrorize her as you intend, she won’t feel safe.”

  “I see your point,” Thistle said pleasantly, taking everyone by surprise.

  “You do?” Twila cast her daughter a sidelong look. “Oh, well, that’s good.”

  “I see it and reject it,” Thistle clarified, her expression evil as she rubbed her hands together. “If I can’t mess with Clove I have absolutely no reason to live.”

  “Thanks, honey,” Marcus deadpanned, rubbing Thistle’s shoulder. “That makes me feel great.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Thistle said hurriedly, leaning closer to her long-suffering boyfriend. “You’re still my favorite person in the world.”

  Instead of reacting with hostility or snark, Marcus merely grinned. “I know I am. I also know that you won’t be happy until you make Clove cry.”

  “She doesn’t have to cry,” Thistle countered. “She can scream and I’ll be satisfied.”

  Marcus tugged a hand through his hair. “Do whatever you want,” he offered, seemingly resigned. “I know I won’t rest for days because of the complaining if I try to stop you. Just keep in mind that I won’t b
ail you out of jail. And if Clove makes you eat dirt, I will not help you clean up. I’ll also laugh.”

  Thistle’s expression darkened. “That’s a mean thing to say.”

  Marcus held his hands palms up and shrugged. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

  “I’m the best,” Tillie corrected. “You learned from Thistle, so you learned from the second best.”

  “I’m not second best at anything, old lady,” Thistle shot back. “I guarantee I can make Clove cry faster than you can.”

  “It’s not how fast you make her cry,” Tillie corrected. “It’s how long you make her cry that counts.”

  “I can beat you on that one, too.” Thistle puffed out her chest. “I’m the best when it comes to making Clove cry.”

  “Oh, is it a bet?” Tillie looked intrigued. “You’re on, mouth. We need to come up with a point system, though.”

  Thistle popped a strawberry into her mouth. “Why don’t we use the same one we had last year?”

  “We could, but I don’t see any reason to make Clove believe that a kraken lives in the bay by the Dandridge.” Tillie sounded pragmatic despite the surreal conversation. “That was the top point earner last time. We need to weed out the non-essentials this go-around.”

  Thistle blew out a sigh. “Fine. Come up with your list and I’ll go over it. It has to be fast, though. I promised Bay I’d help her with something this afternoon.”

  “You are terrible people. I’m not bailing either of you out of jail if you get arrested,” Marcus warned. “In fact, I’m tempted to run out to the Dandridge to warn Clove. She hasn’t done a thing to you.”

  “You always fall for that innocent act of hers. It gets annoying,” Thistle grumbled.

  I tuned out most of the argument and risked a glance around the table, focusing on each of my team members in turn. Millie and Bernard appeared intent on their breakfast plates and nothing else. Hannah and Chris had their heads bent together and appeared excited, although I wasn’t sure what had them riled. Laura looked bored. And Jack? Well, Jack was doing his level best to refrain from looking at me, so he had nowhere to focus but the argument. It was almost comical to watch him pretend to feign interest in Thistle and Tillie Winchester as they plotted the best methods to torture Clove.

  “Not that this isn’t a fascinating conversation, but you still haven’t told me what you found at the site,” Chris prodded, his pointed gaze landing on Jack. “If something happened, we need to know.”

  “I’m not sure what happened, but you’re definitely going to want to go through the footage,” Jack suggested. “We kept the cameras running, but didn’t look through the footage. As for what might be on it … well … I think Charlie is the one you need to talk to.”

  Chris turned to me, excited. “You saw a hominid-like creature?”

  He was so earnest I couldn’t exaggerate, so I merely shrugged. “I’m not sure what I saw. It was dark and I heard something outside of my tent. I’m not sure how to explain it. The tent had a little window and I looked at the stars before I fell asleep. It was nice.”

  “Oh, good grief,” Laura complained. “We don’t need to hear the romanticized version of your story. Can’t you get to the good stuff?”

  I ignored her. “I fell asleep for a few hours, and when I woke it was as if I sensed something outside of the tent.”

  “What was it?” a rapt Twila asked. “Was it a snake?”

  Tillie snorted. “It was a trouser snake … and it belonged in this one’s trousers.” She jerked her thumb in Jack’s direction, causing him to turn bright red. “Ha! I knew it!”

  “That is not what happened,” Jack offered hurriedly.

  “I don’t care about that,” Chris said, impatiently waving off Jack’s embarrassment. “Tell me about the creature.”

  “We don’t know that it was a creature,” I stressed.

  “We don’t,” Jack agreed. “Charlie heard something that woke her. When she looked out her tent she saw … something.”

  “What did you see?” Chris was breathless.

  “It was a shadow,” I replied, doing my best to play down the terror that seemed to overwhelm me the night before. “Whatever it was, it was too far away to make out any features. It didn’t talk. It was dark. It was at least six feet tall. And I heard it snuffling, as if it was scenting the area. That’s all I know.”

  “What did you do?” Tillie asked, leaning forward. “Did you go out to investigate?”

  “I … no.” In truth, that hadn’t even occurred to me. I’d been too afraid to risk going in that direction. All I could think about was getting to safety. That meant Jack’s tent. “I kind of watched it a little bit, and then I got Jack.”

  Jack mustered a dubious expression. “She woke me, and by the time I made it to the spot she indicated it was gone.”

  “So you didn’t see anything?” Chris was disappointed. “I thought you were going to give me good news.”

  “That’s not the end of the story,” Jack said. “This morning I went back out there and found footprints. I don’t want you to get too excited, but there were no tread marks in the prints.”

  Chris sucked in a breath. “Oh, my!”

  “What does that mean?” Thistle asked.

  “Shoes,” Marcus answered before anyone else could. “When someone is wearing shoes, they almost always have tread marks that leave a pattern in the dirt. Jack is saying that whoever – or I guess whatever is more accurate – was out there last night didn’t leave behind a tread pattern.”

  “Oh.” Thistle screwed up her face in concentration. “Did it have paw prints?”

  Jack shook his head. “Indentations. I can’t say with any certainty that it was an animal.”

  “I don’t care about animals,” Chris pressed. “I care if it was a hominid-like creature.”

  “You need to expand your vocabulary,” Tillie suggested. “Call it Bigfoot and stop being so full of yourself. You’re simply annoying people and nothing more.”

  “Excuse me?” Chris’ eyebrows flew up his forehead.

  “Bigfoot,” Tillie repeated, exaggerating the two syllables. “You can say it if you apply yourself.”

  Chris pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth while I hid behind my coffee mug. I found the Winchester matriarch hilarious. I had a feeling I was the only one.

  “Maybe it was a bear,” Marcus suggested, drawing my attention to him. “We don’t many bears in the area, but they’re drawn to the water. If there was a bear around, it would want to be close to the lake or creek so it could fish.”

  “Why would a bear murder Bellaire’s favorite wanton woman?” Thistle challenged.

  “I’m not saying a bear killed Penny Schilling,” Marcus clarified. “I believe a human did that.”

  “How can you say that?” Chris turned his full attention to Marcus. “There were unidentified animal prints out there. Now Charlie saw something in the woods.”

  “There are plenty of ways a human could cover his or her tracks after dumping a body in the woods,” Jack cautioned. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Chris. You should look over the video. Don’t get your hopes up, though. I have no idea if you’ll find anything on that footage.”

  “I’m not getting my hopes up,” Chris shot back. “I’m merely looking at the facts.”

  “You seem to be forgetting the fact that Penny slept with anyone who moved,” Thistle argued. “There are a lot of humans out there who would have the motivation to kill her.”

  “I’ll bet she saw a trouser snake or two in her time,” Tillie said.

  “Don’t be crude,” Jack warned, extending a finger.

  Instead of declaring him to be on her list or going after him, Tillie merely laughed. “You remind me of Landon.”

  Jack stared at her. “Is that good or bad? You don’t seem to like Landon.”

  “I like him well enough. And Bay loves him,” Tillie replied. “That’s good enough for me.” Her eyes drifted to
me and lingered, making me uncomfortable. “Of course, Landon didn’t realize what he was getting into when he started sniffing around Bay. He was attracted to her, but didn’t want to admit it. He was already a goner by then, but he didn’t know it.”

  “I … okay.” Jack face flushed at the conversational turn. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me that.”

  “Oh, you know why I’m telling you that.” Tillie grabbed a strip of bacon from the platter in front of Jack and waved it enticingly. “I’m kind of curious about how much like Landon you really are.”

  “He’s not like Landon,” I interjected, cleaning off my plate. “Jack is his own person. He has his own brain, heart and ego. Oh, and his ego needs its own ZIP code.”

  Jack scowled. “Do you want to take this outside?”

  Thistle snorted as Marcus frowned.

  “Did you just challenge her to a fistfight, man?” Marcus asked, his eyes clouding.

  “I … no.” Jack was scandalized. “That’s not what I meant. I was going to ask her if she wanted to go outside to talk. Just … talk. It has nothing to do with a fistfight. I … how could you even think that?”

  Marcus shrugged. “I live with Thistle, and she’s big on wrestling. It’s not that far of a leap.”

  “You hit her?” Jack challenged.

  Marcus was flustered. “Of course I don’t hit her,” he snapped back. “I don’t even really wrestle with her unless we’re naked. Um, wait. That totally came out wrong.”

  “We know what you meant, honey.” Thistle patted his hand, amused. Clearly this didn’t happen often, because she was having a good time messing with Marcus over his discomfort. “You like to smack me around when I’m naked. It’s totally normal.”

  Marcus hopped to his feet, flummoxed. “That is not what I said.”

  “What did you say?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “I … .”

  Jack snickered as Marcus took a step from the table.

  “I’m done here,” Marcus announced. “Thistle, you’re on your own for the day. Don’t get arrested. And if Clove beats you up once you make her cry I’m not going to have any sympathy for you. As for the rest of you … well … have fun looking for Bigfoot.”