“Did you do anything after you returned?” I asked. “You usually have a bonfire every night. Did you do that?”
Mark nodded. “Yeah. We were up until a little after eleven. I’m pretty sure Billy was there until we doused the fire and called it a night.”
“Where did he go after that?” Kade queried.
Mark shrugged. “I wasn’t watching. I assume he went back to his trailer.”
Kade slid me a sidelong look. “What do you think?”
That was the problem. I had no idea what to think. “I don’t know. Someone managed to do evil smack dab in our center last night. Even if everyone was asleep, someone should’ve heard what was happening.”
“And the dreamcatcher should’ve alerted,” Kade finished, understanding. “How did this happen without a single sound?”
That was a very good question.
I LEFT KADE TO SEARCH Billy’s trailer and headed for downtown. I needed air, room to breathe. My mind was a jumbled mess and I had no idea how to handle any of this.
I grabbed a coffee from the cute shop at the corner closest to the police station. The woman inside introduced herself as Ginny Gunderson – a woman I recognized from one of Raven’s stories – and she seemed keen to talk about life in the circus.
“How do you live so close to clowns?” she asked, completely serious.
I smiled. “I carry a big knife.”
“I can understand that.” She patted my shoulder as she delivered a doughnut and sat in the open chair next to me. The shop was almost empty, and those who remained were focused on their phones. “I heard you had some trouble this morning.”
I widened my eyes. Margaret wasn’t going to like it when she realized news was already spreading. “How did you hear that?”
“Landon and Terry stopped in for coffee and doughnuts. They usually do. This morning they were talking.”
I knew exactly what they were talking about. “It’s difficult,” I admitted. “He worked for us, but he was with the midway crew and we weren’t really close. I’m upset about his death and all, but ... it’s not as if I’m grieving. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“You don’t have to explain it. I get it.” Ginny leaned back in her chair and regarded me with curious eyes. “What’s it like to travel with the circus? There was a time — decades ago, really — when I thought about running away from my life. The circus was one of the options I entertained.”
“You wanted to join the circus?” I was amused enough to scan her surface thoughts. Then I caught a glimpse of a screaming man, red-faced, with spittle forming in the corners of his mouth. It was clear he was about to dole out violence, and Ginny (who was much younger in the vision) was on the receiving end. Then, a woman who looked oddly familiar appeared and stopped the man – Floyd, his name was Floyd – from hurting his wife further.
I’m coming for you, Floyd!
It all flashed through my head in an instant, causing sympathy to roll through me as I regarded the friendly bakery owner. “You probably would’ve liked the circus. Obviously things worked out well for you here, though.”
“They worked out.” Ginny’s smile was soft. “I’m sorry about your co-worker. He might not have been a friend, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a right to be upset about his death.”
“Yeah, well ... .” I shook my head. “We can’t figure out how anyone got on the fairgrounds without us noticing. It shouldn’t have been possible.” I didn’t mention the dreamcatcher. There was no need. Ginny seemed to understand.
“It must be disconcerting to know it happened so close,” she said. “Darren’s body was found right behind where you’re staying, too. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“It’s definitely not a coincidence,” I agreed.
“What are Terry and Landon saying? Believe it or not, even though this is a small town, they’re good at their jobs. I’m sure they will find answers before you leave.”
“How well do you know them?”
She shrugged, noncommittal. “I’ve known Terry for a long time, since he was a kid. He grew up to be a good man, the sort who takes on other people’s children to make sure they get all the attention they need.”
Another flash. This time, I saw a small blond girl with Terry as he explained why yellow snow wasn’t always funny. She walked into the coffee shop with him, her small hand engulfed in his, and she was rapt as he explained why her great-aunt Tillie wasn’t always the smartest woman in the room, no matter what she said.
“He sounds like a good man.” I smiled at the flash. “What about Landon? Do you like having an FBI agent around so often?”
Ginny shrugged. “He’s a good man, too. I don’t know him as well. He’s dedicated to Bay, which makes me like him. He’s rushed to her rescue more than once. Of course, I think the reverse is also true.”
“You think she’s run to his rescue?”
She nodded without hesitation. “I try to stay out of their business because ... .” She trailed off and I heard something echoing through her mind. I’m coming for you, Floyd! “Landon is a good man, too,” she said finally. “They’ll figure this out. They always do.”
Given her chattiness, I decided to take advantage of Mrs. Gunderson’s knowledge of the town. “This place used to be called Walkerville, right?”
She nodded. “Yes. We rebranded years ago because we saw the writing on the wall. We had no industrial base to speak of, and if we wanted to do more than survive we had to come up with a plan.
“Without an industrial base, it’s difficult to draw the right people in,” she continued. “We needed people who paid their taxes and contributed to the community. No one is going to do that without a good job.”
“So you shifted the town’s focus and decided that tourism was the way to go,” I mused, wrapping my fingers around my cup and tilting my head as I considered the miraculous feat they’d managed to pull off. “It’s ingenious really,” I offered after a beat. “You managed to rebrand the entire town, fully commit. I understand this festival has sold out accommodations in several towns.”
Ginny bobbed her head. “It worked for us. I wasn’t sure it would, but when we decided to do it everyone agreed that we would put everything we had into it. That was the only way to save the town.
“I mean, sure, it would probably still technically be alive today if we hadn’t rebranded, but it certainly wouldn’t be thriving,” she continued. “We got lucky that things worked out so well. Apparently, people really love witches.”
Something occurred to me. “Who suggested you focus on witches?”
“Margaret. She claimed for years that Tillie Winchester was a witch.” Mrs. Gunderson smiled. “I think she actually tossed out the idea at one of the planning meetings because she thought it would get a rise out of Tillie.
“We talked about numerous things at those early meetings,” she continued. “We considered focusing on hunting for a bit. Golf courses, ski resorts and snowmobiling trails were tossed around, too. We realized that focus was too narrow. When Margaret suggested witches ... it kind of clicked.
“Before we knew it, people were throwing out suggestions left and right, and Hemlock Cove was taking shape,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe how fast things came together after that. We found we had a knack for festivals ... and people loved the kitschy shops. It didn’t take much money to repaint everything. It happened fast.”
“Well, it seems to have worked out well,” I noted. “You’re one of the few towns in the area who aren’t in survival mode. You did a great job.”
“The key is not to sit on your laurels,” Ginny explained. “We’re constantly expanding. Marcus is finishing up expanding the stables and adding a petting zoo. And Sam finished renovations on the Dandridge and bought a tanker to add a haunted attraction out at the lighthouse.”
“Really? I kind of want to see that before I go.”
“I don’t believe they’re done with it yet. They’ve been working hard, espe
cially Clove and Thistle.”
“Winchester? Are you talking about Clove and Thistle Winchester?”
“Do you know anyone else named Clove and Thistle?”
That was a fair point. “Well, thank you for your time and information.” I dug in my pocket for a tip and left it on the table as I collected my coffee and doughnut. “I have to get going. I’m assuming Landon and Terry will have more questions as the day progresses.”
“I hope you find answers fast.” Ginny’s smile was heartfelt. “I’m sorry this happened to you. It’s supposed to be a fun weekend. I’m not sure how things will go now.”
“Yeah, well, ... thank you for your time.” Before she walked away, I decided to say one more thing to her. “I’m glad you weren’t forced into the circus,” I said quietly. “I’m sure he got what was coming to him.”
Mrs. Gunderson didn’t seem surprised by the statement. “You don’t have to worry about that. The circus life was ruled out for me decades ago.”
I’m coming for you, Floyd!
I kept hearing the words on a roar but wasn’t sure who was delivering them.
I nodded. “The circus would’ve been better for having you. These doughnuts are amazing, by the way.”
“Stop back before you leave and I’ll make sure you get to try my famous pumpkin muffins.”
“I don’t want to miss that.”
“No, definitely not.”
19
Nineteen
Margaret was on the street giving a tour when I left the coffee shop. The look she shot me was straight out of a Gossip Girl rerun (I know because Luke was the biggest Chuck and Blair fan ever), and I had no doubt we would exchange words before the day was out.
Because she fancied herself the most important woman in town, Margaret was keen to be professional. I heard her droning on as she pointed at various business, spinning yarns that couldn’t possibly be true.
“Just right over there Magdalena Bowman Cranwell Hawkins was burned at the stake in front of the townsfolk for witchcraft in 1691, one year before the witch trials began in Salem.”
I narrowed my eyes. “She was burned at the stake?” The question was out of my mouth before I could think better of it.
Margaret’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Do you have a problem with the story?”
I shook my head. “It’s just ... that’s a myth. No witches were burned at the stake in Salem. Fire was used commonly in Europe, but over here we hanged people.”
I swear my rear end was smoking thanks to the fiery glare Margaret lobbed in my direction.
“Do you need something?” she asked, her voice deceptively mild.
“I’m simply interested in your tour,” I replied. “I love hearing about local history.”
“Yes, well ... this tour is full.” She snapped her fingers to get everyone’s attention. “This way, please. I want to show you the lake where witches were thrown to see if they could float.” She led the tourists toward a waiting bus as I folded my arms across my chest and watched the show.
“She’s a real pain, huh?”
I jolted at the new voice, shifting my eyes to my left as I prepared for attack. Instead of finding an enemy, I found Tillie ... and she wasn’t alone. Nellie was with her.
“What are you doing here?” I exploded, taken aback. “Where did you come from?”
“I live here,” Tillie reminded me.
“I was talking to Nellie.”
“He’s my new sidekick,” Tillie replied, matter-of-fact. “We’ve decided we make a fearsome twosome. I have a list of people he’s going to help me terrorize before leaving town.”
I slid my eyes to Nellie, dumbfounded. “You’re going to help her terrorize people?”
He shrugged. “I’m not doing anything else. I like being helpful.”
That was news to me. “I don’t ... .” I stopped myself before launching into a full-on diatribe. “It doesn’t matter.” I held my hands up to silence whatever snarky comment was about to escape Nellie’s lips. “If you want to be Tillie’s sidekick, that’s totally up to you.”
“I’m not her sidekick. She’s my sidekick.”
Tillie snorted. “I most certainly am not. I’m the head witch.” She thumped her chest for emphasis. “That makes you the sidekick. Besides, everyone knows that dwarves are sidekicks.”
Nellie made an exaggerated face. “Where did you hear something stupid like that?”
“Um ... Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. She was obviously the lead.”
“Are you’re Snow White in this scenario?”
She shrugged. “I’m most certainly not a dwarf.”
“You kind of look like a hobbit,” I offered as I watched the last few participants in Margaret’s tour board the bus. Two of them were Shirley and Adele, the elderly witches who couldn’t stop laughing whenever they were together. They were slower than the rest due to their age, but I couldn’t deny they were having a good time. “You should be having elevensies about now, right?”
“Hobbits aren’t real, but I would totally be a hobbit if I could,” Tillie said. “If you’ll remember, though, dwarves were the sidekicks in all those movies, too. The hobbits were the leads.”
“I preferred Aragorn,” I admitted.
“He was hot,” she agreed, “but it doesn’t matter. Dwarves are destined to be sidekicks.”
“I can’t even.” Nellie held up a hand, offended. “Do you really think so little of me?”
Tillie shrugged. “I think you’re going to make a fantastic sidekick.”
“No, you’re my sidekick.” His voice raised a notch. “Poet, will you tell her that she’s obviously my sidekick?”
This was not a conversation I wanted to be involved in, especially because I vaguely remembered having a similar argument with Luke back in the day when he informed me I was his sidekick. If I remembered correctly, the conversation went over equally as well.
“I don’t care who the sidekick is,” I admitted. “I care about them.” I gestured toward the last two people to get on the bus, the ones helping Shirley and Adele navigate the steps. They seemed fine with helping, but the furtive glances they shared after the elderly women disappeared set my teeth on edge.
Something was going on.
The younger girls looked as if they were trying to slink away, but Margaret was paying close attention to their actions and she tugged the girls onto the bus even though they were clearly hoping to escape on a different sort of adventure. “What do you think is up with them?”
Kaley and Lizzy cast desperate looks in my direction, as if they thought I might be able to help them.
“They’re teenagers,” Tillie said dryly. “Teenagers should be shipped off to an island to live until they stop being annoying.”
“So ... send them away for five years?”
“Bay, Clove and Thistle are still annoying. It should be a sliding scale.”
“Good to know. I ... .” I lost my train of thought when the bus finally moved away, revealing a lone blonde standing on the opposite side of the road watching it. Bay. She was clearly as interested in the bus as I was. That was interesting.
“What do you think she’s looking at?” I asked Tillie.
The elderly witch followed my gaze and shrugged. “Why would you care?”
“I don’t know.” It was a fair question, but I didn’t have an answer. “I sense something about her.” I meant to say the second part in my head, but my Foot-In-Mouth Disease wouldn’t allow it.
Tillie merely shook her head. “You and Bay are a lot alike.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Take it however you want.” Tillie gestured for Bay to cross the street, which her great-niece reluctantly did.
“I don’t think it was a compliment,” Nellie offered.
He wasn’t the only one.
Bay seemed agitated at being summoned. “What are you doing down here?” I didn’t think the question was for me because her eyes were fixed f
irmly on Tillie. “I seem to remember a conversation this morning in which you were forbidden to leave the inn until you removed the charm on the basement door.”
“How do you know I didn’t remove the charm?” Tillie asked.
“Because you have three cases of wine down there you don’t want anyone to know about.”
“How do you know about the wine? You’d better not have nipped any. I counted those bottles, and if one is missing ... well ... you know what will happen.”
“What will happen?” Nellie whispered with reverence. “Will you shoot her?”
“Worse.” Tillie held Bay’s gaze for an extended period. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Bay nodded without hesitation. “Oh, I understand. You snuck out of the inn and I’m going to be the one in trouble when you get caught. Mom is going to call and ask if I’ve seen you at some point, and I’m not going to lie to her.”
“Of course you’re going to lie to her,” Tillie countered. “I taught you how to lie for a reason.”
Bay sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she collected herself. “Okay, well ... I’m done talking to you.” She waved a hand in Tillie’s direction and focused on me. “I heard you found a body on the fairgrounds this morning. My understanding is that it’s a member of your group.”
I held her gaze for a long moment. “He worked the midway for us.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t know him all that well,” I admitted.
“His name was Boney Billy and not just because he was skinny,” Nellie offered.
“He means that Billy had a lot of boners,” Tillie offered.
“Thank you, Aunt Tillie,” Bay snapped, causing me to have to bite back a snicker.
“Did Landon tell you what happened?” I was honestly curious. “Margaret didn’t seem keen on word spreading.”
“Yes, well, Mrs. Little isn’t keen on anything that she didn’t think of herself,” Bay muttered. “I saw the medical examiner at the fairgrounds and headed over to take a look. When I realized you weren’t there, I decided to look for you.”
Freaky Witches (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 7) Page 18