Witchy Dreams

by Amanda M. Lee

  I stared down the trio, adopting the darkest expression in my arsenal. They didn’t so much as shift from one foot to the other. “We’re here to see if we can find more footprints,” I replied after a few moments of silence. “We’re here to do a job.”

  “I was simply asking what you were doing here,” Bay replied. “I was under the impression that you were watching videos all afternoon.”

  “And not pornographic ones,” Clove added. “I asked.”

  Thistle pressed her lips together. I could see her shoulders shaking from twenty-five feet away as she swallowed her silent laughter.

  “We’ve seen the video. We came back to look for more prints,” I said. “That’s what we’re doing here. What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, well, we’re looking for prints, too.” Bay wasn’t exactly what I would call a gifted liar. She kept exchanging unreadable looks with Thistle – looks that made me more suspicious than ever – while steadfastly avoiding eye contact with me.

  “You’re looking for prints?” I challenged. “May I ask why?”

  “Because we’re interested in Bigfoot,” Thistle answered. She was calmer under pressure. I got the distinct impression that she would spout the same story until the end of time, never breaking until she ran out of oxygen. She was clearly a much better liar than Bay. I had a feeling that was the reason she took control of the conversation. “We wanted to see if we could find evidence of Bigfoot. I mean … you don’t own this land. We’re allowed to come and go as we please.”

  “Yeah, it’s a free country,” Clove jeered.

  I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the shorter girl. She seemed nervous, fluttery even. She kept glancing around the woods, as if she expected a creature to jump out at any time. Her reaction was almost comical. “I see.” I tugged on my lower lip as I stared at them. “Well, if everyone is minding their own business, we can continue to do that separately. Sound good?”

  “I was happier when it was just the three of us so we could speak freely, but I guess it will have to do,” Thistle countered, grabbing Clove’s shoulder and directing her toward the spot where Bay stood. “You guys can do your work and we’ll do our work.”

  “Yes, that sounds lovely.” I bobbed my head. “If you want to continue your discussion, feel free to do that, too. We won’t get in the middle of it.”

  “That sounds great.” Thistle offered me a wide smile that was much more “shark circling its prey” than “trustworthy woman” but I opted not to comment, instead leading Millie toward the spot where I saw the shadowy figure the night before while keeping my ears open.

  “Go back to what you were saying, Bay,” Thistle ordered. “Why are you mad at Landon?”

  “I’m not technically angry,” Bay replied, kneeling next to a spot on the side of the clearing and pulling out her phone. “He’s just insensitive sometimes.”

  “That’s a man thing,” Clove pointed out. “He doesn’t mean to be insensitive. What did he say?”

  “He brought up the time he left as if it was funny and I was being stupid because it hurt my feelings.”

  “That’s not what he said when he got trapped in Aunt Tillie’s mind and had to relive it,” Clove pointed out, making a sound like a wounded animal when Thistle kicked her knee. She recovered quickly. “I meant when Aunt Tillie brought it up in front of everyone that one time.”

  I rolled what Thistle said through my head. Landon got “trapped in Aunt Tillie’s mind.” There weren’t a lot of ways to phrase that so it was believable. There also weren’t a lot of ways to change it so that it made sense.

  “I don’t think he meant to hurt your feelings,” Thistle said. “He loves you. Trust me. He’s freaking whipped. He would never purposely hurt your feelings.”

  “In theory I believe that,” Bay conceded. “In practice, well, it’s hard to believe when he just brushes off my feelings. He doesn’t understand why I’m agitated. He keeps telling me to calm down because I’m being a hysterical female.”

  Clove’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Did he use those words?”

  Bay shook her head. “That’s what I heard, though. He thinks I’m overreacting. He told me to get over it because he has to spend the day with Chief Terry and didn’t have time for a fight.”

  “A fight, huh?” Thistle was blasé. “You two don’t really fight. You both pout until one of you apologizes. The problem you have is Landon’s huge ego.”

  I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but couldn’t stop from listening even more. I too was at my limit with the male ego today.

  “Landon’s ego is not that big,” Bay argued, loyalty apparent despite her anger. “He’s a good man.”

  “He’s okay when he’s not threatening to arrest us,” Thistle corrected. “You need to crush his ego, though. It’s out of control.”

  “I think that’s a man thing,” I interjected, realizing too late that I was letting them know I was eavesdropping.

  “What’s a man thing?” Bay asked blankly.

  “The ego thing,” I answered, opting to plow forward rather than retreat. “I had the same problem with Jack this morning. I’m pretty sure his ego is bigger than Landon’s.”

  “No one’s ego is bigger than Landon’s ego,” Thistle drawled.

  Bay ignored the dig about her boyfriend and focused on me. “I saw you and Jack arguing. What did he do?”

  “He decided to sit me down for a talk and explain why he wasn’t interested in me … even though I’m not interested in him,” I replied, the fury I thought forgotten rearing. “As if he’s so good looking that people can’t stop themselves from falling at his feet. It’s just so … ridiculous!”

  “I hear that,” Clove said. “When we first started dating Sam actually told me not to cry if he didn’t call me every single day, because he had a lot of work to do and he’d call as often as possible. Like I need someone to call me every day!”

  Thistle shot Clove a dubious look. “You do need someone to call you every day.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, too.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, too.”

  “Knock it off,” Millie ordered, shuffling closer. “Ladies, it’s a good thing I’m here. I’ve discovered the key to dealing with men over the years – and it’s nowhere near as difficult as you probably think. Do you want to hear it?”

  Bay shrugged. “I don’t see why not. It can’t be worse than Aunt Tillie’s advice to tie a man to the bed once a month and leave him there for a full twenty-four hours so he’s always thankful for his freedom and never gets clingy. What have you got?”

  Millie beamed. “I’m so glad you asked. Sit down. This is going to be a long conversation. You’ll thank me when I’m done.”

  Despite my misgivings, I was almost hopeful. “Lay it on us.”

  TWO HOURS LATER our original argument about who was allowed to go where and why was behind us. We headed into town for lunch. It didn’t occur to me until we were in the rental vehicle following Thistle’s car that the Winchesters had managed to completely avoid the question about what they were doing at the site.

  “Do you think it’s weird that they won’t tell us what they were doing out there?” I asked Millie as she parked in front of the diner. “They completely evaded that question … and they did it fairly easily.”

  Millie shrugged, seemingly unperturbed. “Does it really matter what they were doing out there? They didn’t hurt anything or anyone.”

  It was a fair question, and yet … . “It matters to me.”

  “Then I don’t know what to tell you,” Millie said. “We have no jurisdiction to close down that site and I have no idea who owns the property. Maybe we can track the owner and have him close it off to curiosity seekers. But that wouldn’t stop law enforcement.”

  “Odds are that Sam Cornell owns that land,” I added. “He’d be more willing to shut it down to us than them.”

  “And Sam is the short one’s boyfriend,
right?”

  I nodded. “Clove.”

  “I can’t keep them straight,” Millie muttered, pocketing the keys and moving to the front of the vehicle. “They’re named after herbs, for crying out loud.”

  Huh. I hadn’t even put that together. “I wonder why.”

  “Why they’re named after herbs?” Millie shrugged, making an exaggerated face as she stepped onto the curb. “You’ll have to ask their mothers. There probably was some drinking involved. From what I understand, Tillie makes her own wine, and it’s strong enough to knock you on your rear end.”

  I’d witnessed the power of the wine the night we caught them dancing under the full moon, but figured it was wise to keep that story to myself … at least for now. “I’m still curious about what they were doing out there. It doesn’t seem normal.”

  “What’s normal?” Millie challenged, leaning her elbows on the hood of the sport-utility vehicle. “Are you normal? Am I normal?”

  “You’re definitely not normal.”

  Millie grinned. “Neither are you,” she said. “The Winchesters definitely aren’t normal either, and I doubt very much they’d declare themselves as such. The thing is, who decides what’s normal? I was raised during a time when girls were expected to act a certain way. I refused to follow protocol. Look at me now!”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the wacky woman and her strong personality. “I think you turned out just fine.”

  “And I think you turned out just fine,” Millie said. “I imagine that it’s hard for you. You probably have a lot of questions regarding what happened to your birth parents. You probably want to know why they gave you up for adoption, right?”

  “They didn’t give me up for adoption,” I corrected. “They abandoned me.”

  “Do you remember that?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t remember anything about that time. I don’t remember being in the fire station either.”

  “Weren’t you old enough to have a few memories?” Millie didn’t sound accusatory, merely intrigued. I wasn’t bothered by her questions. They’d plagued me for years and I’d asked them of myself many times.

  “You would think so, but I don’t.”

  “Which means you were probably traumatized by something,” Millie mused, shaking her head. “Either way, it would be only natural for someone in your position to ask ‘why me’ and then dwell on it. You might think it’s because you were abnormal in some way. Perhaps you even strived to be ‘normal’ as you were growing up. It’s a mistake to focus on that now.”

  “I’m not interested in being normal.” That was mostly true. I was fine being who I was born to be. That didn’t stop me from keeping some very big secrets. I felt I had to, although I had no memories propelling me to that determination. “I just think there’s something really off about the Winchesters. I can’t help it.”

  “There is something off about them,” Millie confirmed. “I still like them. Whatever they’re keeping secret, I doubt very much it has to do with Penny Schilling. I also doubt very much that it’s our business.”

  “I get what you’re saying. You’re not the first person to say it,” I said. “Jack basically said the same thing. It’s just … they fascinate and frustrate me at the same time. I feel that they’re keeping something from me. We’re here investigating the death of a young woman, so it’s hard for me to shove the feelings aside.”

  “Fair enough.” Millie bobbed her head. “The odds of them having something to do with this woman’s death are extremely slim, though. What’s their motive?”

  I shrugged. “They don’t have one.”

  “So why are you so suspicious?”

  “If I could answer that question I probably wouldn’t be so fixated on them.”

  “I think your problem is that you want control,” Millie supplied. “You didn’t have control when your parents left you at the fire station. You didn’t have control when your adopted parents died. You don’t have control now because you’re the newest employee and still learning the ropes. You want control of something … and that something is apparently the Winchesters’ secret.”

  “Aren’t you curious?”

  Millie shook her head. “None of my business,” she replied. “If I thought they were a danger to others or even themselves I might worry. They’re not. They’re an extremely codependent and crazy family. They admit their faults and don’t run from fights. I find that refreshing.”

  “I guess you’re right.” I heaved a sigh. “Why don’t you go inside and find us a table. I want to take a minute to myself to get my head back in the game. All of that advice you gave us at the site made me loopy.”

  Millie’s grin was impish, shaving a good twenty years from her face. “Use that advice, girl. It will get you far in life.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said dryly. Millie’s advice was more prone to give me nightmares than inspiration, but I didn’t tell her that for fear I would hurt her feelings.

  I watched Millie walk inside, taking advantage of the quiet moment to suck in a few deep breaths and exhale slowly. Millie was right, yet I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if the Winchesters’ secret would lead me to answers regarding Penny Schilling’s death. I had no idea why I believed that possible. I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that washed over me whenever I gave real thought to the Winchesters and their hijinks.

  I was so lost in thought – disappointment with myself growing with each treacherous thought regarding the Winchesters – that I almost didn’t notice the man standing at the other end of the sidewalk. I let my eyes drift in that direction and almost jolted when I locked gazes with a familiar face.

  It took me a few moments to place the man, and when I did my stomach twisted. He made no effort to hide the fact that he was staring. We were the only two people on the street – everyone else already inside to enjoy lunch – so I couldn’t help but feel exposed.

  Shane Norman remained rooted to his spot. He practically dared me to say something in the way he glared. I took a step toward the diner instead, happy to increase the distance between us. I blindly reached for the door handle, not making contact. I felt a brief flare of power in my head and then the door handle hit my fingers. I made the door open with my powers. I couldn’t manage the energy to care, though. Shane Norman’s dark presence was enough to completely unnerve me.

  And then things got worse.

  “How did you do that?”

  I jerked my head in the direction of the voice and found Bay staring at me. “Do what?” I asked, my mouth dry.

  “Open the door like that.”

  “I … what?” I was legitimately confused, but I was also caught. I knew what Bay was asking, and found myself desperate to buy time to think of a convincing answer.

  “The door,” Bay prodded. “It kind of flew open. I thought it was the wind, but … there’s no wind.”

  “I … um … have no idea what you’re talking about.” I’m not a very good liar, but I hoped Bay would drop it. She didn’t.

  “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were a witch,” Bay teased, smiling. “Is there something I should know? Maybe you want to move to Hemlock Cove and join the coven, huh?”

  Uh-oh. Could this day get any worse?

  Twenty-Three

  “Witch?” The word felt alien on my tongue. I couldn’t stop from laughing. “I guess everyone in Hemlock Cove has witches on the brain, huh?”

  “Some more than others,” Bay replied, furrowing her brow. “How did you open the door?”

  “I grabbed the handle. That’s how I normally open a door.”

  “But … I would’ve seen your arm if that was the case,” Bay argued. “I didn’t see your arm.”

  “Maybe it was invisible.” I offered a nervous chuckle and licked my lips. “Do you have any witches in town who can make themselves invisible?”

  “Not that I know of.” Bay was calm, but I could practically see her mind working. She was suspicious of my ans
wers and dubious mannerisms, which was mildly hilarious given the fact that I’d spent the better part of two days grappling with wild thoughts about her family.

  I decided to change the subject. “Do you know that man?” I inclined my head in the direction of Shane Norman.

  Bay reluctantly dragged her gaze from my face and frowned when she saw him. “Yes. He works at the resort.”

  “I saw him there.” I kept my voice low. “He works in the purchasing department. He was one of Penny Schilling’s boyfriends.”

  “I know.” Bay rubbed the back of her neck. “I wonder what he’s doing in Hemlock Cove. I don’t believe he lives here. I think he’s from Bellaire, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I know Landon talked to him the day we visited the resort.”

  “Did Landon happen to mention what he said?”

  Bay shook her head. “I don’t recall.”

  “And even if you did recall you wouldn’t tell me, because I’m not a cop, right?”

  Bay shrugged, refusing to bow down to the guilt trip I was trying to lay on her. “Probably not. Landon tells me a lot of things that aren’t for public consumption. It hardly matters in this case. He didn’t mention anything about his talk with Shane Norman.”

  “So why is he here?”

  “That’s a very good question.” Bay moved closer to me, never removing her eyes from Shane. Finally, as if deciding after a lot of thought that he didn’t want to deal with two of us, Shane turned and entered the shop closest to him.

  “Should we follow him?” I asked, my heart rate increasing.

  “Why?” Bay’s expression was unreadable as she searched my face. “Do you think he’s guilty?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, opting for honesty. “I’m leaning toward Bigfoot after what I saw in the woods last night. Still … he was staring at me. It gave me the creeps.”

  Bay opened her mouth to say something, but I immediately started shaking my head to cut her off.

  “No, I don’t mean the witch creeps,” I added. “I mean the general creeps. He was staring at me.”