“And what do you know about the situation?” Margaret challenged.
“Just what I’ve heard through my position as a police officer – you know, where I investigate crimes,” Terry replied dryly. “I’m not saying that the kids won’t cause a spot of trouble, but I think holding things that are out of their control against them is unfair.”
“Yes, well, nobody asked you.” Margaret’s tone was dismissive. “While I respect Terry’s position and opinion, I think he’s overlooking something very important: This is a family-oriented town. We care about our families. Keeping them safe and not exposing them to dangers that could be avoided is our primary concern.”
“So why are you even bringing this up?” Terry barked.
“Because it’s a town matter and it should be a town decision,” Margaret huffed. “I’m not queen. I can’t decide for everyone. I thought everyone should be aware of the issue so they can decide for themselves.”
Tillie shifted from one foot to the other. “Come on, girls.” She prodded three little girls who looked suspiciously like Clove, Thistle and Bay to stand. “This is absolutely ridiculous.”
“Did you say something, Tillie?” Margaret narrowed her eyes.
“I said this is ridiculous,” Tillie repeated, unruffled. “You just said this was a family-oriented town in one breath and then tried to dissuade people from helping at-risk kids with another. That’s not what a family-oriented town would do.”
“They’re dangerous.”
“No, you’re dangerous. You’re a terrible person. If you can’t see those kids need help – that this is the time of year when we should all want to help – then I feel sorry for you.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you,” Tillie continued. “I think you’re a petty and foul individual. I’m not going to let you sway my decision. If I can help those kids – and I will be making calls as soon as I get out of here to find out – I’m going to offer my help.
“It’s the Christmas season, after all,” she continued. “We’re supposed to give of ourselves for others. That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Then you’ll be the only one,” Margaret snapped.
Tillie looked to the other residents. “I guess we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”
Margaret folded her arms over her chest, determined. “I guess we will.”
Clove whispered something to Tillie that I could barely make out. “Now can I say something mean about her?” the petite girl asked.
Tillie nodded.
Thistle stilled Clove with a hand on her arm. “I’ve got it. You might not be mean enough, and we’ve only got one shot at this.” She turned to face Margaret, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You look like a plucked chicken when you dance naked in front of your mirror every morning.”
Everyone in the room looked as if they were about to start laughing.
“How do you know I dance naked in front of my mirror?” Margaret was incensed, spittle forming at the corners of her mouth. “How could you possibly know that? I mean … I don’t do that. Why would you think I do that? Don’t tell people I do that. I’ll sue if you ever say anything of the sort again.”
“I’m not backing down from this, Margaret,” Tillie called out. “I’ll help save Christmas for those kids. Shame on anyone else who won’t help.”
And with that, she swept out of the room like a superhero.
I was surprised by the emotions that barreled through me. The strongest was dislike. I greatly disliked Margaret ... and the way she looked at people as if they were less than her. I also felt like laughing, because Tillie was clearly the best great-aunt ever.
I cleared my throat. “It seems you’ve had some trying times,” I said.
She nodded. “I have. You wouldn’t believe the way I’ve suffered.”
“Your husband?”
“He died way too early.”
“Yes, well ... .”
Another image danced in my head, this one featuring Margaret and her husband screaming at each other due to the affair with Floyd Gunderson. More images followed, including an argument with Ginny.
Then there were the myriad memories with Tillie, and all of them cascaded together in one big potential slap fight. One in particular stood out.
“Shut up!” a man I didn’t recognize screeched, spittle appearing at the corners of his mouth. “That’s not what happened. I was used and abused by these … whores.”
“Mrs. Little and Aunt Tillie treated you badly,” Bay volunteered. “They know it. Aunt Tillie admits it. Mrs. Little will never admit it because she’s sad and pathetic. She’s only happy when others are miserable. I think she’s going to be the miserable one going forward because she’s out of friends.”
“Hey!” Margaret was beside herself. “How did this become my fault?”
“Shut up, Margaret,” Tillie ordered. “Let Bay talk.” She was focused on the man.
“Victor, what you did was worse,” Bay said. “Patty really loved you. You used and abused her just like Mrs. Little and Aunt Tillie used and abused you. You abandoned a child in the process. Then you stalked someone who didn’t care about you. You’re pathetic.”
“Stop it!” he howled, his right hand crossing his chest as he rubbed his left arm.
“What’s going on?” Another man asked. This one looked like a Fed, but it wasn’t Landon.
“Get ready,” Tillie ordered. “Hey, Victor!”
The man in question shifted his eyes to Tillie, sweat beading on his forehead. “What?”
“No one really wanted to win you,” Tillie said. “We only wanted to beat each other. That’s why we picked a loser like you. We figured you would be grateful we let you play at all. I guess we were wrong.”
“That’s it!” he reached for yet another man’s gun (I was having trouble keeping track of the faces because they flitted by so fast). He gasped as he missed and pitched forward. “Oh, God!” He grabbed his chest as he writhed on the ground.
“Grandpa?” A third man jolted, confused. “What’s going on?”
Bay was on her feet, ready to fight, but she didn’t have to. Landon barreled through the trees and tackled the man with the gun, forcing it to discharge as he fired wildly into the sky. Terry was close behind.
“Is everyone okay?” Terry, out of breath, huffed.
“Victor is having a heart attack,” Tillie offered. “Also, Margaret should be locked up for being the worst person ever.”
Margaret’s outrage was palpable.
“I’ll consider it,” Terry wheezed, his attention on Landon as the other man delivered a punch before scrambling toward Bay.
I managed to hold it together even though I wanted to gasp at the end. It seemed the past Margaret shared with Bay and Tillie was even more dramatic than I’d imagined.
“You’ve definitely lived a busy life,” I said dryly.
“I have,” she agreed. “I have a lot of life left in me. I ... wait. You said you could see the future. Do you think I’ll ever beat Tillie? Please tell me I’ll outlive her ... and make her cry before it’s all said and done.”
The fact that she actually wanted that troubled me. “I think you’re going to have a busy life twilight,” I said finally.
“What’s a life twilight?”
“The last years of your life.”
She balked. “Excuse me, but I’m nowhere near the end of my life. I have plenty of time left to live.”
She was in no danger of dying ... at least right now. The quality of the life left before her was up for debate.
In general I tended to tell the truth when it came to certain clients. Mostly clients I didn’t like. Margaret was definitely one of those. Still, I learned a long time ago that most people wanted to hear something good, so I searched for that in the din. Occasionally, however, there were people who were so far gone on the wrong path I had no choice but to try to help them. Margaret was one of those, but it was obvious that she was beyond help.
&nbs
p; “You’re going to have a good life,” I said finally, swallowing hard. “In fact, you’re going to have a great life. I think you’re going to get everything you deserve.”
“Really?” She squealed as she shifted on her seat. “Can you tell me how I’m going to take Tillie down?”
She was going to need a bazooka to take Tillie down. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I can’t tell you,” I hedged. “You might change something if I do. Let me just say ... what’s to come will be magnificent.”
That wasn’t exactly a lie. I caught a glimpse of Margaret’s future and it was going to be magnificent. But it was Tillie who was going to come out victorious.
“Oh, yay!” Margaret clapped her hands. “This is so much fun. I can’t believe how much I’m enjoying this.”
That made one of us.
AN HOUR LATER, I DECIDED TO take a ten-minute break. My head hurt from the busy brains I had to delve into since opening. Each and every one belonged to one of Margaret’s friends.
Kade found me in my tent, my head resting on the table, and for a brief moment he looked concerned. “What’s wrong, baby?” He knelt next to me and placed his hand on my forehead. “Are you sick? Do I need to get you to the hospital?”
I offered a wry smile. “I love you.”
He stilled. “Are you saying that to win the competition or because you’re dying?”
“I’m not dying. I have a headache. Margaret Little and her merry band of senior citizen cohorts gave me a headache. She insisted I see them all in a row.”
Relief washed over his features before he chuckled. “Well ... you’re alive.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah. You scared me there for a second.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before lowering his voice. “By the way, it would be great if you could never get sick or die. It freaks me out when you look weak.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Very rarely. That’s why it freaks me out.”
I sighed. “I’ll do my best, but only if you do the same for me.”
“Deal.” He pressed his lips to mine. “It’s going to be a long day, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
24
Twenty-Four
I didn’t initially recognize the woman who came into my tent after the break. She was blond, and I felt I should know her but I couldn’t figure from where, so I pushed the notion out of my mind.
“What do you want to see?”
“The future ... and maybe a little of the past,” she hedged, holding out her left hand first, giving me the impression she knew exactly what she was doing. That was interesting. She wanted to see her potential.
“The past first?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Okay.” I held her hand and closed my eyes. “Is there something specific in the past you want to see?”
“Kind of. I ... well, you’ll see.”
“I will?” I chuckled as my mind started fogging at the edges. “Oh, well ... I guess you do know what you’re doing.”
“Yeah. I need to see it again and Bay says you’re good at your job. I figured you could help.”
“Bay said?” Things slipped into place. “You’re Winnie.”
“I am. I want to see Terry.”
I pursed my lips. Apparently love was in the air all around. “Okay. Let’s visit Terry.”
I saw things from Winnie’s point of view this go-around. She was watching a young Bay – twelve, maybe thirteen – from afar.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Terry said to the little girl at his side. “It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t nice.”
Bay was morose. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Terry said. “You’re not a monster. None of you are monsters.”
“What about Lila?”
“Lila is a small monster,” he conceded. “She’s going to grow up to be a big monster. You’re going to grow up to be an angel.”
“You always say that.” Bay giggled. “I’m not an angel.”
“You are to me. Sometimes I can even see your halo. It almost never needs to be shined.”
“You’re only saying that because you feel bad about me taking off into the woods. I didn’t do that because of you.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Because Donna came to me in the cabin,” Bay said. “She needed me to find her, and she knew she was running out of time.”
“Why didn’t you tell your mom?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“She has trouble with the ghosts,” Bay said. “She doesn’t like it that I see them. I can see that when I talk about them. She’s embarrassed.”
“Like you were embarrassed to have her run the camp this weekend?”
Bay nodded.
“Your mom isn’t embarrassed by you seeing the ghosts,” Terry said. “She thinks everything you do is magic. Well, most things. That sneaking around stuff you and your cousins like to do isn’t fun, but most kids do that, so I think she’ll probably let it slide.
“She’s proud you want to help the ghosts, Bay,” he continued. “She’s proud of you. She’s also afraid that if anyone else finds out what you can do things will become … difficult. She doesn’t care whether things are difficult for her, but she wants your life to be great.”
“I think she’s embarrassed.”
“I think you want to think that,” Terry said. “I think, in your heart, you know that’s not the case.”
“If I promise to tell her next time, will you stop with the deep talk?”
Terry grinned. “No. We’re not done yet.”
“I knew you were going to say that,” Bay grumbled.
“You can’t wander off in the woods by yourself, Bay. You could get lost. You could fall. Something could happen to you. You have to promise me that you won’t do that again.”
“I promise.”
“Don’t just say the words,” Terry said. “Mean them.”
“I can’t promise I’ll always go and get my mom. I promise to at least take Clove and Thistle with me next time.”
Terry sighed. “I guess that’s better than nothing.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Terry nodded.
“Why did you come back to our camp this morning? I would have thought you’d stay away … at least until lunch … because of what happened.”
“I really don’t know why I came here,” Terry said. “I only know that I had a feeling I needed to be here. I had a feeling you needed me to be here.”
“What do you feel now?”
“I feel we should probably take a kayak ride and enjoy the lake one last time before we go,” Terry said. “I think Donna would like that.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
Bay jumped to her feet and leaned over, giving him a quick hug. “Can I tip you over?”
“No.”
“Please?”
Terry sighed. “I don’t even know why you’re asking,” he said. “You know I can’t say ‘no’ to you.”
“I know. I’ll get Clove and Thistle.”
Bay skipped off in her cousins’ direction, leaving Terry to stare at me … er, Winnie. “I may spoil her a little,” he said.
Even though it was a somber memory, I smiled. The image of Terry with Bay helped me better understand their relationship. It also helped me understand her mother.
“You’re afraid that something bad might happen to Bay’s father figure if you screw up your relationship with Terry,” I said finally, my lips curving. “You’re afraid that you’ll hurt Bay.”
“She needs Terry.” Winnie’s response was simple. “He’s important to her.”
“He’s important to you,” I stressed. “He always has been. You put your needs on the back burner for Bay, though, because you were afraid for her. Ghosts. She saw so many ghosts.”
My heart pinged at the naked emotion on Winnie’s face.
<
br /> “You don’t have to worry about the ghosts any longer,” I said finally. “They’re never going away, but they’re not the issue you believe them to be.”
Hope flitted across her face. “So ... Bay will be okay no matter what happens.”
I knew what was going to happen, and there was no doubt Bay would be perfectly fine. “I think you’re good.” I grinned at her. “Have fun. That’s what Bay wants most of all. She loves Terry, but she loves you, too. Besides, she’s hopeful that you’ll stop poking your nose into her life if you’re focused on Terry. That’s what she really wants.”
Winnie’s smile slipped. “Well, I’ll show her.”
I had no doubt about that.
THROUGHOUT THE DAY I played host to various visitors. Most I didn’t recognize, but others ... well, others were familiar faces. Twila and Marnie stopped by. Whether it was to introduce themselves on the sly or get a real reading, I couldn’t be sure. Still, they giggled their way through glimpses of their past and I was amused enough to pay attention.
The Winchester family was hard to define. They were loyal to a fault, but no strangers to strife and struggle. They messed with one another, divided into groups for wars, and yet remained devoted.
It was hard to imagine.
“Um ... are you busy?”
I was about to take a break when Terry showed up. I knew he would be hanging around the fairgrounds — it only made sense given the investigation — but I never believed he would stick his head in my tent.
“I have time for you.” I flashed a smile as he darted inside, discomfort rolling off him in waves. He was nervous, which I found interesting. “Is something wrong?”
“Well ... .”
I thought back to Winnie’s visit. “You’re worried about Bay.”
His eyes went wide. “How could you possibly know that?”
I snickered. “I could lie and say it’s part of my job, but Winnie was in here earlier and she was worried about Bay. I saw a bit of her future, and past, so I think I know what you’re worried about.”
Freaky Witches (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 7) Page 23