Witchy Dreams

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Did he see you the day you were at the resort?”

  “I think so,” I said. “I made eye contact with him at one point when we were walking around the loading dock. It was brief. I don’t see how he could know who I was or why I was there.”

  “Gossip travels fast,” Bay replied.

  “Do you know what store he went into?”

  Bay nodded. “It’s The Unicorn Emporium.”

  “He doesn’t seem like the porcelain unicorn type to me.”

  “Me either.” Bay chewed her lip, distracted. “That’s Mrs. Little’s store.”

  “The same Mrs. Little your great-aunt keeps stalking?”

  “Yup.”

  “Can you think of any reason Shane Norman and Mrs. Little would spend time together?”

  “Not off the top of my head,” Bay answered, “but there’s no harm in checking things out for ourselves. Let’s see what they’re doing.”

  I figured Bay would attempt to spy in stealth mode, maybe go around the back of the store and sneak in through another door so we could hide behind racks of goods and eavesdrop. What? I watch a lot of spy shows. Instead she shoved open the front door of The Unicorn Emporium and strolled inside as if she was part owner.

  “Bay.” Mrs. Little, her hair pulled back in a prim and proper bun, stiffly nodded her head when she caught sight of the blonde. She didn’t so much as acknowledge me.

  “Mrs. Little.” Bay’s greeting was equally cold as she scanned the store, her eyes falling on Shane Norman as he perused a display on the far side of the small boutique. Instead of approaching him, Bay shuffled toward the counter. “I thought I’d check in and see how things are going. How are they? I mean … how are things going?”

  I hid a half-smile behind my hand. Even though she was outwardly cool on most occasions, Bay tended to fall into spaz mode now and then. This happened to be one of those times.

  “Things will be fine, Bay.” Mrs. Little’s tone was clipped. “If that’s all … .”

  “That’s not all.” Bay’s eyes moved back to Shane. “Have you heard about the body found behind the Dandridge?”

  I jerked my head in her direction, surprised. I had no idea where she was going with this line of conversation, but I was fascinated. I risked a glance at Shane Norman and found his back to us. He continued to stare at the unicorns, but I was fairly certain his shoulders had stiffened in response to Bay’s question.

  “I did hear about that,” Mrs. Little confirmed, squinting a bit as she watched Bay. “Why are you telling me? I didn’t kill her.”

  “I didn’t think you did,” Bay supplied. “Chief Terry and Landon are investigating. We want to make sure that everyone is very careful right now given the new … evidence … that they discovered.”

  “What evidence?” Mrs. Little no longer looked annoyed. “Is the murderer a Hemlock Cove resident? I thought Bigfoot did it.”

  “I’m not at liberty to talk about the evidence,” Bay cautioned. “Just make sure you’re never alone, especially after dark, and that you have someone to walk you to your car.”

  “I … um … okay.” Mrs. Little looked flustered. “Thank you for the warning.”

  “You’re welcome.” Bay kept her eyes on Shane Norman as she walked out of the store and stood on the sidewalk in front of the display window. I found her little act baffling more than enlightening.

  “What was that?”

  “I want to see what he’ll do.” Bay crossed her arms over her chest. “More importantly, I want to see if he talks to Mrs. Little.”

  “But … why?”

  “Because she’s had her pudgy little fingers in some very unsavory pots over the years,” Bay answered. “I doubt very much she has any ties to Shane Norman. I want to be sure, though.”

  “And if she is tied to him?”

  “That explains why he’s in town.”

  “And if she’s not?”

  “Then he’s here for another reason,” Bay replied, leaning against the nearest sidewalk bench and narrowing her eyes as Shane shuffled toward another display shelf. “Whatever reason he suddenly came to town can’t be good. Something’s going on here.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  AFTER THIRTY minutes of looking at unicorn statues, Shane Norman made his escape from the store. He didn’t glance in Mrs. Little’s direction the entire time, and she seemed distracted by Bay’s gossipy tidbit, so we headed back toward the diner relatively certain that they weren’t in cahoots. I was less certain about Bay. She seemed to be playing a game that I didn’t fully understand the rules of, so I was constantly behind.

  By the time we hit the diner, Landon and Chief Davenport had joined our small group. Landon looked relieved when he caught sight of Bay and he stood to make sure he got her attention.

  “I saved you a seat, sweetie.”

  Bay studied him a moment, her eyes flat. “I’m pretty sure I’m still angry with you.”

  “Bay,” Landon cajoled, tilting his head to the side. “I said I was sorry. You know darned well I didn’t mean that how it came out.”

  I risked a glance at her and didn’t miss the way her lips curled at his reaction. “You already forgave him, didn’t you?”

  Bay shrugged. “It’s hard to stay angry with him. He has a good heart.”

  “And he loves you.”

  Bay’s smile was serene. “He does. I don’t forgive him simply because I love him, though. I forgive him because intentions are as important as outcomes.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that he wouldn’t purposely hurt me for anything,” Bay replied. “Sure, we tease each other, but he would take a bullet rather than hurt my feelings. Heck, he has taken a bullet for me. His intentions are always good.”

  I found the conversational shift curious. “Are your intentions always good?”

  “For the most part. I won’t deny I’ve had mayhem on the brain a few times over the years and acted out with bad intention. That was mostly during my teenage years. I hope I’ve grown out of that.”

  “What were your intentions today?”

  Bay seemed surprised by the question. “They weren’t bad, if that’s what you’re worried about. I was simply trying to get a read on Shane Norman.”

  “Because you think he’s a killer?”

  “We don’t have nearly enough information to call him a killer.” Bay took advantage of the lull in conversation sit between Landon and the chief. She greeted Chief Davenport with a hand on his shoulder and allowed Landon to lean close enough to whisper. Whatever he said amused her, because she laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He returned the show of affection by planting a loud kiss on her lips. It appeared that all was forgiven.

  I sat between Millie and Thistle, grabbing a menu after getting comfortable, and letting the conversation wash over me as I rewound the day’s events. Nothing in Hemlock Cove was at it seemed, and that included the Winchesters and my own team. I was in an awkward position. I was the only one who didn’t have anyone to trust. I instinctively trusted Millie, of course, but I didn’t know her well enough to share my biggest secrets. I was hopeful that one day I’d find loyalty in the group, but I was nowhere near that point yet.

  “Where did you go?” Millie asked. “I thought you took off or something.”

  “I noticed a guy staring at me on the sidewalk, so Bay and I followed him into a store to see if he was up to something,” I replied. “He was from the resort.”

  Landon stilled across the table, pursing his lips as he wrinkled his nose. “You followed a guy who was staring at you on the street?”

  Bay’s expression was murderous as she locked gazes with me. “Do you ever think before you speak?”

  “I didn’t realize it was a secret,” I protested.

  “It wasn’t a secret, but you have to learn the right way to tell certain people particular bits of news,” Bay snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose as Landon stared at her. “Just remember that I forgave you, so you shouldn
’t make a scene right now, Landon. We were never in any danger.”

  “Seems like a sound argument,” Landon said. “Now tell me the story about who you saw on the street … and then followed despite the fact that you might’ve been dealing with a murderer.”

  “It was Shane Norman,” I supplied. “He was staring at me. When Bay found me on the sidewalk he hid in that unicorn store.”

  “Shane Norman.” Landon cracked his neck as he searched his memory. “He’s the head of purchasing, right?”

  I nodded. “He’s also one of Penny Schilling’s many boyfriends.”

  “Did he say anything to you?” Chief Davenport asked, extending a finger in Landon’s direction when it looked as if the FBI agent was going to push Bay on her actions. “You just got out of the doghouse. I had to listen to you whine about it all morning. How far are you willing to push things?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Landon replied. “She shouldn’t have followed a strange man into a store. It wasn’t safe.”

  “It’s broad daylight and it was The Unicorn Emporium,” the chief pointed out. “How much danger do you really think she was in?”

  “Fine.” Landon blew out a frustrated sigh. “We’re even, Bay. I’m not going to yell.”

  “I don’t care if you do yell,” Bay countered. “We didn’t do anything. And I’m more than happy to resurrect my anger if you’re going to be a butt itch.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing as Landon’s cheeks flushed.

  “A butt itch?” Landon looked caught between laughter and annoyance. “That’s a new one.”

  “That’s what you remind me of right now,” Bay pressed.

  “Well, I would hate to be a butt itch.” Landon slid an arm around Bay’s shoulders and rubbed his nose against her temple. “I’m not angry. I am, however, curious about what Shane Norman was doing in Hemlock Cove.”

  “I think he was interested in Charlie,” Bay said, causing my heart to roll.

  “Me? Why would he care about me?”

  “He was staring at you when I came outside. I think he would’ve spoken to you if I hadn’t interrupted,” Bay explained. “You said he saw you the day you were at the resort. Maybe he discovered you were looking into Penny’s death and wanted to pass on some information.”

  “Why not share that information with us?” Landon challenged. “When I talked to him he barely opened his mouth.”

  “Yes, but you’re ‘The Man,’” Bay answered. “People are nervous talking to law enforcement. Charlie is young and looks approachable.”

  “I think she’s saying you look slutty,” Thistle offered, slathering mustard on her chili dog. “You might want to lay off the hooker makeup.”

  I frowned. “I don’t wear hooker makeup.” Wait … do I? I craned my neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror behind the counter, letting my attention be drawn to Landon only when he tapped his fingers on the table.

  “Your makeup is fine. Thistle is just being Thistle.”

  “She has teal hair,” I muttered. “She doesn’t have a lot of room to talk.”

  “Exactly,” Landon said. “Get back to Shane Norman. Do you think he was trying to talk to you or did he have something else on his mind?”

  “Like what?” I asked, confused. “I’ve never spoken to him. He stared a bit but couldn’t run away fast enough when he saw Bay.”

  “That might be because the Winchester reputation is well known around these parts,” the chief suggested. “In addition to being a Winchester, Bay has very clear ties to you and me, Landon. Maybe Shane Norman would be more willing to talk with Charlie.”

  “I guess there’s only one way to find out,” I suggested.

  “We have to go back to the resort after lunch,” Bay agreed, bobbing her head.

  “You’re not going alone,” Landon interjected.

  “He won’t talk to us if you’re there,” Bay argued. “You have no choice but to step back.”

  “I have no problem taking a step back,” Landon said. “As long as I can still see you it will be fine.”

  “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “And I think I love you enough not to care.” Landon reached for the ketchup. “Go ahead and pout, Bay. I’m still going with you to the resort.”

  “Maybe I should go alone,” I suggested. “That might be the only way we can be reasonably sure that he’ll talk to anyone.”

  “Absolutely not,” Landon and Chief Davenport said in unison.

  “We go as a group or not at all,” Landon added.

  “Just let them have their way,” Bay muttered, her expression dour. “They won’t ease up, so it’s easier to compromise.”

  “Is that what you call it?” I questioned. “Compromise?”

  Bay shrugged. “What do you call it?”

  “Giving in.”

  Bay snorted, taking me by surprise. “Oh, Charlie, you’ll find that a lot of the things you believe now aren’t true. You’re young and set in your ways. Things will appear different when you get older.”

  “I’m fairly certain that was an insult,” I muttered.

  “I’m fairly certain I don’t care,” Landon shot back. “We’re going together. Get used to it.”

  He was still handsome. I would never say otherwise. But his tone was beyond grating Being low woman on the bossy totem pole well and truly sucked.

  Twenty-Four

  Our trip to the resort yielded nothing, not even a sighting of Shane Norman. His employees said he left early for the day, citing a headache, but it was clear something else was on his mind. Jim Green watched us from his perch above the lobby when we walked through the front doors, but other than that we garnered little attention.

  Landon swung by Shane Norman’s house on our way out of Bellaire. But the driveway was empty and the house dark, so we headed back to Hemlock Cove.

  My mind was busy on the drive, and I could see Bay thinking just as hard in the passenger seat.

  “I don’t understand why he would come looking for me,” I admitted, breaking the silence that had fallen over the Explorer. “Did he think I could help or something?”

  Bay held up her hands. “I have no idea what to tell you,” she said. “There are a hundred reasons he could be looking to talk to you.”

  I had trouble believing that. “Name one.”

  “Maybe he has information he’s uncomfortable sharing with law enforcement,” Bay suggested. “Police officers and FBI agents often make people uncomfortable. I’ve seen it numerous times since I started dating Landon. Even before then, when hanging around with Chief Terry, I saw it happen a lot, too.”

  “You mean the Dark Ages?” Landon teased, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he captured Bay’s hand and squeezed it. “I often forget you had a working knowledge of law enforcement before I entered your life.”

  “That law enforcement didn’t boss me around daily.”

  I pressed my lips together tightly, expecting Landon to blow. Instead he merely shook his head.

  “If you think I’m going to apologize for wanting to keep you safe, you’re wrong,” he said. “It makes me nervous that this guy showed up in Hemlock Cove. Before this happened, he was furthest down my list of possible suspects.”

  Well, that was interesting. “Why is that?” I asked. “I thought there was something odd about him the day I saw him on the loading dock, so he was high on my list.” In truth, I didn’t have a list. I simply wanted Landon to justify his list so I could better understand.

  “I usually don’t base my opinion on feelings,” Landon supplied.

  “That’s not true,” Bay countered. “You had a feeling I was worth saving when you first met me. You even risked your status as an undercover agent to do it.”

  “No, I risked my status to save a bunch of civilians running around in a corn maze in the middle of the night,” Landon clarified. “I would’ve done what I did no matter who was out there.”

  Bay lo
oked almost disappointed. “Really?”

  Landon sighed. “Probably not, no. I’m supposed to say that I would. You’re the reason I was there that night. We both know it. You simply want to hear it because it makes you feel all girly and floaty.”

  Bay grinned. “You’re kind of a sap.”

  “If the sap fits.” Landon shrugged.

  I watched the interaction with a pang of loneliness. I never realized I was missing someone until I saw how happy Bay and Landon were simply being together. I spent my college years studying and enjoying the occasional party, but I made sure not to let anyone – including roommates – get too close. My secret weighed heavily on me and I didn’t want to risk letting anything slip at an inopportune time.

  I cleared my throat to interrupt the moment and forced their attention back to me. “If he saw me and knew I was asking questions and that somehow triggered his attention, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to be the guilty party? Maybe he wanted to silence me.”

  “That’s a theory, but I’m not sure that feels right,” Landon admitted.

  “I thought you didn’t base your opinion on feelings,” I challenged.

  Landon heaved a sigh, his annoyance evident. “This is why I need to hang around with more men. Women always throw things I say back in my face.”

  “She has a point.” Bay adopted a pragmatic tone. “You said you don’t base your investigative work on feelings. Why is this different?”

  “Because I also applied logic when I thought about it,” Landon answered. “Charlie wasn’t at the resort alone. She was with Jack. What good would approaching Charlie do if she has an investigative partner? He can’t possibly think he’ll silence Jack, too. That guy is clearly trained.”

  “Trained as what?” Bay asked, confused. “Is he like a circus performer?”

  Landon barked out a laugh, genuinely amused. “He’s military, sweetie.”

  “He is?” Bay’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “How do you know? Did he tell you? He’s not much of a talker.”

  “He’s not much of a talker,” I interjected. “Well, he’s a talker when he wants to be bossy and tell everyone what to do. Other than that he’s pretty quiet … and judgmental … and full of himself.”