Witchy Dreams

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Witchy Dreams Page 71

by Amanda M. Lee


  “She wanted to make sure that I realized her husband wasn’t a sleaze who has affairs all over town … especially with Penny Schilling.”

  “I don’t know Bob Grimes all that well, but there’ve been rumors about him for as long as I can remember,” Thistle mused, leaning back in the chair. “We’re not exactly resort people. We don’t golf or ski, so we don’t have occasion to visit there very often.”

  “The dining room looks nice.”

  “It does, but my mother and aunts absolutely adore cooking. They’d pitch a fit if we ate a lot of meals there,” Thistle explained. “Actually, I think Bay and Landon went up there for a romantic meal a couple of months ago. They wanted time to themselves. I think there was a fight about it.”

  “Isn’t there always a fight in your family?”

  “We simply call it communication,” Thistle replied, unruffled. “As for Phyllis, there are some very unflattering stories about her. I guess it depends on who you talk to. There’s a small group of women who think she’s a victim, but the rest of the town believes she’s earned what’s happening to her.”

  Huh. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. “I guess I’m missing part of the story.”

  “You are.” Thistle smiled, clearly enjoying her role as narrator for what looked to be a torrid tale. “So, Bay ran down the list of Penny Schilling’s boyfriends. It’s like a blast from the past for Walkerville’s Class of 1996.”

  I stared at her.

  “Hemlock Cove used to be known as Walkerville,” Thistle volunteered helpfully.

  “Yeah, I know. I don’t know what that has to do with the investigation.”

  “I’m getting to it,” Thistle said grouchily. “Don’t rush me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Anyway, so Phyllis, Bob, Shane Norman and Jim Green all graduated together,” Thistle said. “I don’t know if they were friendly. When they were in high school I was still decorating tree houses with Clove and Bay.”

  “Got it.”

  “You have to understand that there aren’t many job opportunities for people who choose to stay in Hemlock Cove,” Thistle explained. “Back then there were even fewer good jobs. You either worked at the resort or you didn’t get full-time wages and benefits. Walkerville’s manufacturing base died with the tire factory that closed a long time ago. That’s why the township council decided to rebrand the town as a tourist destination.”

  “Which seems to have worked out well for you,” I pointed out.

  “It has, but it was a big risk when the council members made the decision,” Thistle said. “The resort was it for a lot of people. I remember listening to my mother and aunts talking when we were kids. They were worried we would have no choice but to move out of Walkerville after graduation if we wanted to get good jobs.”

  “You didn’t want that?” It was hard for me to imagine purposely picking a town the size of Hemlock Cove to live in forever. I love travel and am fond of big cities. Hemlock Cove almost seemed stifling with everyone knowing everyone … and all the secrets they’re desperate to keep.

  “I always knew I would stay,” Thistle replied. “I think Clove did, too. I had no idea what I would do, but the idea of leaving Walkerville freaked me out. Bay, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to get out.”

  “But she’s here.”

  “She’s here now,” Thistle clarified. “She moved to Detroit for several years after graduating from college. She wanted to work for a big newspaper – and she did – but I could tell she missed Walkerville at a certain point. She was excited to move back to Hemlock Cove in the end. Now I can’t imagine her anywhere else. Neither can Landon, and that’s why he moved here.”

  “Even though that has to be tough on his future prospects with the agency?”

  “Landon has decided he wants Bay more than professional glory,” Thistle answered, her lips curving. “I wasn’t so sure at first. I was worried he would break her heart. Now the only thing I worry about is that they’ll break each other because they’re so freaking horny all of the time.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. Unfortunately it didn’t work and I choked out a hysterical giggle.

  “Sorry.” Thistle’s smile was rueful. “Sometimes I simply say whatever comes to my mind.”

  “I have the same problem,” I admitted. “Jack has been on me about it almost from the first moment we met.”

  “Jack seems like a good guy, so you might want to listen to him,” Thistle argued. “I’m the last person who should be giving advice about being blunt, but sometimes it’s a curse.”

  “I’m starting to see that.” I rubbed the back of my neck and shifted on the chair. “You were telling me about the Class of 1996.”

  “Oh, right.” Thistle seemed eager to return to her story. “So, all of those guys started at the resort right after graduation. They weren’t in the jobs they’re in now, of course. Bob and Phyllis started in the dining room. She was a waitress and he was a dishwasher. I believe Shane Norman and Jim Green started as members of the grounds crew. In the summer they worked on the golf greens to keep them lush and pretty. In the winter they made snow and groomed the ski runs.”

  “Okay, but I’m not sure what that has to do with Penny Schilling’s death,” I prompted.

  “It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with her death,” Thistle clarified. “I simply wanted you to have the background. The resort itself is like a small town. Everyone knows everyone and they’re all up in each other’s business.”

  “Like your family dinners?”

  Thistle smirked. “Not quite as fun but you get the gist of it. That gossip doesn’t stay at the resort. It spreads. There have been rumors about Bob Grimes for as long as I can remember. I have no idea if he’s slept with hundreds of women – that’s what the rumors indicate – but there are far too many whispers for some of it not to be true.”

  “So you think that Bob Grimes was screwing around on his wife, and that Phyllis might’ve killed Penny,” I surmised. “She seems incredibly manic and determined to keep up appearances. She kept saying what a good provider her husband is, as if that somehow makes up for the fact that he betrayed her trust every chance he got.”

  “I think Phyllis is the type of person who can snap at the drop of a witch’s hat,” Thistle admitted. “I also think she’s at a physical disadvantage if she wanted to kill Penny. Phyllis is small. She’s, like, a few inches taller than five feet. Penny had to have at least five inches on Phyllis. She wasn’t a big woman, but when you’re dealing with dead weight that seems like an insurmountable difference in stature right there.”

  “Have you dealt with a lot of dead bodies?” I teased.

  “You’d be surprised,” Thistle replied, not missing a beat. “I’ve dealt with my fair share of a lot of things. Moving a body like that would be almost impossible for Phyllis to do alone.”

  “So you think she had help,” I murmured, running the idea through my head. “Do you think her husband helped her?”

  “I’m not saying it was her,” Thistle cautioned. “She has her hands full with kids and a husband with a wandering eye. I think the odds of it being someone outside of that little group are slim, though.”

  “So you don’t believe in Bigfoot, huh?”

  Thistle shifted on her chair, the question clearly making her uncomfortable. “I’m not sure,” she hedged. “I believe there are things in this world that we can’t explain. I believe there are creatures we’ve never seen. I won’t rule out Bigfoot being real.”

  “I can’t say with any certainty what I saw last night, but it was big,” I offered. “It felt … different … from a human being. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

  “Just because there might be a creature out there doesn’t mean the creature did the deed,” Thistle reminded me. “If Bigfoot lived off human beings, I think we would’ve had more bodies drop over the years.”

  “Unless you never discovered the bodies,” I pressed. “May
be Bigfoot ate everything and there was nothing to discover. I’m sure you’ve had people go missing in this area.”

  “Fair point,” Thistle conceded. “I still think we’re dealing with a human who wanted the police to believe it was an animal attack.”

  “I don’t know what to believe,” I admitted. “On one hand, it would be great if we could track down a creature to blame. People aren’t comfortable when human beings are revealed to be monsters. That’s why they’re happy to pin the crime on an animal.

  “If it is an animal, it will most certainly be put to death for killing a human being,” I continued. “I don’t want some rare creature destroyed because it was merely following its instincts.”

  “Do you have anything concrete to go on?” Thistle asked. “Do you have anything other than those prints you found the first day?”

  “Just the supposition from the medical examiner that the DNA found on the body didn’t appear to be entirely human and could be a mishmash of other animal DNA.”

  “But didn’t the medical examiner also say the sample was so small it could’ve been contaminated?” Thistle pressed. “That might’ve been on purpose.”

  “And it might be a creature,” I argued. “We’re still in the debate portion of the investigation. Until we can all agree on what killed Penny Schilling, we’ll never be able to find the guilty party.”

  “I guess that’s true.” Thistle rubbed the back of her neck. “What will you do now?”

  “I’ll find Millie and head back to the inn so we can check in with Chris. I don’t know what else to do until then.”

  “Well … good luck.”

  “Yes. I think I’m going to need it.”

  Twenty-Six

  I spent another twenty minutes with Thistle before leaving her to work. She confirmed that she saw Millie walking toward the library a few hours earlier so I headed in that direction. I was lost in thought, trapped in my own head, so I didn’t notice the figure pacing me on the opposite sidewalk until I walked a full block.

  Slowly I let my attention drift in that direction, frowning when I realized that it was Jim Green. He wore worn jeans and a T-shirt instead of the suave suit he wore at the resort. His attention was in front of him and he didn’t so much as look in my direction. I couldn’t be sure he saw me … yet it felt as if he did.

  Green looped left at the intersection, heading toward the bakery. I made my decision quickly, scurrying across the street and following him rather than continuing to the library. My understanding was that none of the resort workers lived in Hemlock Cove. So why did they keep showing up here? I couldn’t come up with a feasible answer.

  Green ordered a coffee at the counter before sitting alone at a corner table. He didn’t look at me, but I was certain he was aware of my presence. I could’ve pretended to accidentally bump into him, even order a fresh coffee, but I was already caffeinated from the tea and my patience couldn’t hold out much longer.

  I squared my shoulders as I headed straight for Green, grabbing the chair across from him and sitting without invitation. If Green was surprised he didn’t show it. Instead he merely arched an eyebrow and locked gazes.

  “Good morning.”

  “It’s actually the afternoon,” I corrected, drumming my fingers on the table as I looked him up and down. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the suit and slicked-back hair. I saw you at the resort a few hours ago, so you must’ve gone home and changed, huh?”

  Green pursed his lips. “I can run back home and take care of both issues if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

  “That’s okay. I’m good.” I hoped I came off as more of a badass than I felt. “Are you following me?”

  Green’s eyebrows hopped. “Excuse me?”

  “Are you following me?” I repeated, refusing to back down. “I saw you on the street and you seemed to be matching my pace. That means you were following me.”

  “Why would I follow you?”

  “That wasn’t an answer,” I pointed out. “A reporter I know says that answering a question with a question is a surefire way to prove guilt.” Technically Bay didn’t say that. Landon said something like it while talking about her, but I couldn’t remember the exact nature of the conversation.

  “Did Bay Winchester tell you that?” Green sneered. “I wouldn’t put too much stock into her or that family. They’re crazy.”

  “You’re not the first person to tell me that,” I supplied. “Phyllis Grimes was here about an hour ago and said the same thing.”

  Green’s eyes flashed. “Phyllis was here? What did she want?”

  “Why do you care?” I challenged, confused. “She’s married to another man. Granted, that man was reportedly sleeping with the same woman you were involved with, but Phyllis should mean nothing to you.”

  “Phyllis and I graduated from high school together,” Green noted, his tone even but icy. “We’ve known each other a long time. We’re friends.”

  “That means you know Bob, too,” I pointed out. “Are you friends with Bob?”

  “Bob is … a diligent worker.”

  I didn’t bother to hide my smirk. “And a good provider, according to his wife,” I said. “Do you want to know what I find interesting about this little … ménage a whatever?”

  Green remained silent, his hands wrapped around his mug.

  “Phyllis waited for me on the street to make sure I knew her husband wasn’t a philanderer,” I started. “That only made me think he was even more of a turd. Shane Norman followed me around town yesterday. He acted as if he wanted to say something, but he practically ran into the unicorn store when he saw Bay. I have a hard time believing he had a burning need for a unicorn statue. How about you?”

  Green’s lips twitched. “I think Shane likes all sorts of fruity things.”

  “Are you saying that because you were sleeping with the same woman?”

  “I’m saying that because he’s an idiot,” Green replied.

  “You went to high school with him, right?”

  Green shrugged. “It’s a small area. If I remember correctly, he was there.”

  “Uh-huh.” I looked around the bakery before leaning in closer. “Shane left before he said anything, but he acted as if he was afraid of Bay Winchester. Phyllis practically attacked me on the street and only backed off when Thistle Winchester showed up. You’re here, but I didn’t see you until I left the Winchester magic shop, which probably means you were watching me.”

  “I just came to town for coffee,” Green countered. “I didn’t see you in any magic shop. I try to avoid places like that. They’re … unsavory.”

  “Yes, I’m often plagued by how unsavory candles and herbs are,” I drawled, narrowing my eyes. “If you’re not following me, why are you here?”

  “This is a bakery. I’m here for the baked goods and coffee.”

  “Uh-huh. They don’t have coffee in Bellaire?”

  “I’m sure they do, but I grew up in Walkerville.” Green maintained a calm demeanor, but I could tell he was fighting the urge to snap at me. Apparently he didn’t think I’d call him on his actions. He wasn’t good under pressure. “I like the coffee here.”

  “Yeah? I do, too. I just had tea with Thistle Winchester, so I’m going to take a break from caffeine.” I pushed back my chair and got to my feet, never breaking eye contact with Green. “I’m going to pick up my co-worker at the library. Then we’ll return to The Overlook. If you plan to follow me there, I’d be careful. Tillie Winchester is on a rampage, and she’s looking for people to add to her list.”

  The threat had the desired effect as Green made a face and shifted in his chair.

  “Enjoy your afternoon off,” I added, moving toward the door. “Make sure to watch behind you. There’s a rumor that Bigfoot is on the loose around these parts. Of course, you’re more frightened of the Winchesters than Bigfoot, aren’t you?”

  “Anyone with a brain is frightened of the Winchesters,” Green shot back. “They�
��ve earned their reputations. You have a nice day now.”

  “You, too.”

  I GLANCED over my shoulder multiple times upon leaving the bakery, but either Green was biding his time or wasn’t interested in following me after all. I was determined to make it to the library without distraction this time, but that didn’t happen. A blonde head in the cemetery caught my attention, and before I realized what I was doing I found myself watching Bay Winchester from several feet away as she did a bit of spring cleaning on a grave.

  “That’s better, huh?” Bay smiled at the headstone as she shoved a bit of garbage in a small plastic bag. She was talking to herself. Or, rather, she was talking to whoever rested beneath the stone. I recognized her efforts for what they were. I talked to my parents whenever I stopped by the cemetery, too.

  “We’ll plant flowers in a few weeks,” Bay volunteered. “Aunt Tillie wants something bright this year. She said the flowers Marnie picked out last year were boring and that you don’t like purple. She wants something blue.”

  Bay tilted her head to the side and laughed, almost as if she really was talking to someone. The way she focused on the headstone caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise. I couldn’t stop myself from glancing around. Bay was clearly alone, yet I swear she was not only talking to someone but also hearing answers to her questions.

  “She’s feisty and good, as usual. I’m surprised she hasn’t been out here yet. She’s been busy torturing the guests and Thistle. You know how she is.”

  Bay paused and waited, her chin bobbing.

  “Yes, well, her health is good,” Bay offered. “I know you miss her, but we’re not ready to let her go yet. No, I wasn’t saying that you were trying to get her to go. I remember what you told me when … well … when we met in the fall.”

  I realized I was gaping – and out in the open – so I snapped my mouth shut and shuffled toward a tree to hide the fact that I was eavesdropping. The movement was enough to garner Bay’s attention.

 

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