Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set

by Amanda M. Lee

  “What?” Landon shifted his eyes to the place I stared and jolted, taking a wild step away from the visitor and crashing into the desk.

  I reacted out of instinct, flying around the counter and racing to Landon’s side. For some reason I thought perhaps the ghost hurt him. Landon was human and couldn’t see ghosts. The only rational reason for his reaction was that I empowered the ghost to hurt him ... a notion that terrified me.

  “Are you okay? Do I need to call 911?” I patted his torso looking for wounds as Landon stared at a spot behind me.

  “Knock that off, Bay,” he said finally, grabbing my wrist before I could start patting lower. “I’m not hurt.”

  “Then why did you react like that?”

  “Because of me,” the ghost answered automatically, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “He’s looking at me.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed. “He can’t see ghosts. I’m the only one who can.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” the man argued. “He’s looking at me ... and gaping, with his mouth so big a bat could fly in there and disappear.”

  I shifted my eyes to Landon’s handsome face and saw the ghost was right. “Can you see him?”

  Landon nodded. “And hear him.”

  “But ... how?”

  With what looked to be great difficulty, Landon dragged his eyes from the ghost and focused on me. “I think you did it, Bay.”

  “But ... ?” Frustration bubbled up as I glared at the ghost. “Why are you here? Why did you come to me?”

  “I have no idea. As for why I’m here, I’m pretty sure I’m dead.”

  “How did you die?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It probably had something to do with the knife I saw in my chest before I was compelled to find you. That’s just a wild guess”

  “That sounds like a good guess.” Landon calmly stroked his hand down the back of my head. “So ... are you local?”

  “Yup. At least I was.” For a ghost, the man was remarkably calm. “My name is Mike Hopper. I’m pretty sure I was murdered.”

  Ah, well, the day looked to be taking a turn. It was bound to happen eventually.

  Two

  “Who are you?”

  It was the obvious question. I could’ve been kind and offered him a mountain of sympathy due to his death, but I was too frazzled to waste time with niceties.

  “Mike Hopper.”

  “Right.” Had he already mentioned his name? I couldn’t remember. “Why does that sound familiar?”

  “I’m famous in these parts.”

  I didn’t believe that. “Why are you famous?”

  “He’s the guy on the radio,” Landon said after a beat. “The Dr. Lovelorn guy. He has that radio show on the weekends. I remember listening to him a few times when I was commuting between Traverse City and Hemlock Cove.”

  That’s when things clicked into place. “Oh, I know who you’re talking about. You’re the relationship guru. I never listened to your show, but Aunt Tillie did. She said you were a moron.”

  Landon squeezed my wrist tighter and shook his head. “I don’t think Aunt Tillie should be giving relationship advice.”

  He had a point. “I just meant that ... it doesn’t matter what I meant.” I shook my head to dislodge my earlier train of thought. “You live over on Peach Street, in that nice ranch house with the gingerbread trim. You’re a licensed therapist, right?”

  The ghost nodded. “That’s correct.”

  “You hold sessions in your house for couples. They call you Dr. Lovelorn.”

  “You can call me Mike.”

  “Okay, Mike.” I did my best to organize my thoughts. “So ... you’re saying you were killed in your house?”

  “I guess.” Hopper’s expression turned cloudy. “I can’t quite remember what happened. I just know that when I woke up my body was on the floor. I’m guessing that means I was dead.”

  “That would definitely be my guess,” I agreed. “You said you saw a knife sticking out of your chest. I don’t think that’s naturally occurring.”

  “No, but I don’t remember what happened. You would think I would. I mean ... death by knife in the chest has to be traumatizing. I keep drawing a big blank, though. I can’t remember any of it. I feel calm about the situation. I don’t understand.”

  That made two of us. “You are pretty calm for a new ghost,” I agreed. “Most ghosts are upset when they first appear. They have to be convinced they’re dead before they can settle. You’re the exact opposite.”

  “Maybe it’s because I understand that acceptance is key for emotional health.”

  Oh, geez! A ghost who happened to be a therapist on the side. That wouldn’t be irritating or anything. “Well, yeah. I’m sure acceptance is important. It’s just ... why did you come to me? How did you know I’d be able to help you?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean ... we’ve all heard rumors about the Winchesters. I believe there was a time when you were a child that the town was considering banding together to have you locked up because you were seen talking to thin air around town. I know because people tell me stories about your family all the time. They want me to diagnose all of you.”

  Ugh. “I wasn’t talking to thin air,” I groused.

  “No. Apparently you were talking to ghosts. That’s it, right?”

  “Technically,” I hedged.

  “It’s not as if he can spread it around town, Bay,” Landon noted. “You can admit what you are to him.”

  “I know. It’s just ... I don’t usually do that. It’s a secret.”

  “Well, it’s a secret that this guy can’t spread,” Landon supplied. “I am curious, though. If you didn’t realize Bay could talk to ghosts until right now, how did you end up here? This seems a random place to visit if you’re not looking for something specific.”

  “I was compelled to come here.”

  “By whom?”

  Hopper shrugged. “I don’t know. I woke up, saw my body and lamented how young I was to die such a tragic death. I briefly wondered what kind of memorial service I would have, wondered if I should stick around long enough to see it and instead decided I wanted to move on. A voice told me to move on, you see, and it seemed like a fairly rational choice.

  “Then a stronger voice started calling to me,” he continued. “It was a female voice and it was yelling my name, drowning out the other voice, so I followed it on a whim. It led me here. I’m pretty sure it was your voice, Bay.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “What? You heard my voice? I didn’t call out to you.”

  “And yet here I am.”

  “Oh, geez.” I slapped my hand to my forehead. “This can’t be good.”

  “Calm down.” Over his initial fright, Landon seemed intrigued more than anything else. “This guy has answers. We should see what he can tell us. There’s no need to get worked up.”

  That was easy for him to say. “He heard a disembodied voice talking to him. It sounded like me. I was talking to you at the time. If that’s not something to get worked up about, what is?”

  “I don’t know. We need to hear his story and move on from there.”

  Ugh. I hate it when he sounds like Mr. Rational. It’s beyond annoying. “Whatever.”

  Landon ignored my tone and went into investigator mode. “Tell us exactly what you remember.”

  Hopper didn’t appear bothered by Landon’s need to take over the conversation. “I woke up in my living room and I was dead. There was a knife sticking out of my chest. I had a choice to move on or come here. I decided to come here. The other choice felt more permanent for some reason.”

  Landon leaned forward, intrigued. “Like ... was it the voice of God?”

  “It wasn’t a voice as much as a feeling inside of my head, if that makes sense.”

  “It makes no sense at all.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t know how else to explain it. I heard words, but they weren’t spoken. The same when I got called her
e. I knew a female was calling to me and she sounded relatively nice, although commanding, so I decided to postpone one trip in favor of the other.”

  “This is unbelievable.” I rubbed the back of my neck and shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t call him. I swear I didn’t.”

  “No, but you’re powerful,” Landon noted. “Obviously your magic called to him.”

  “Wait ... are you guys really magic?” Hopper looked tickled at the prospect. “There have been rumors about that for a very long time, but I always thought that was Margaret Little being ... well, you know how she is.”

  I knew exactly how she was. As well as a business owner in Hemlock Cove, the small tourist hamlet in northern Lower Michigan where I grew up and chose to make my future, Mrs. Little was also the town busybody. She had an opinion about how everyone should live their lives ... and if you didn’t happen to agree with that opinion she gave you nothing but grief. She was also Aunt Tillie’s arch nemesis, but that’s a story for another day.

  “What’s your beef with Mrs. Little?” Landon’s curiosity was obviously piqued. “I know why I dislike her. Why do you?”

  “She’s a pain. She tried to get my business shut down because she said I shouldn’t be running a doctor’s office in a residential area. I explained that I’m not that kind of doctor and couples prefer a homey setting when they sit down to try to save their relationships. But she took me before the town council to fight it.”

  “Oh, wait ... I remember some of this.” I tapped my chin as my memory kicked in. “It was a few years ago, right? She said you didn’t have the proper license to run a business out of your home.”

  “Pretty much.” Hopper nodded his head in confirmation. “I had just moved from Traverse City. I wanted a quieter environment and I’d always been a fan of Hemlock Cove. I had to go before the town council and swear I wasn’t performing illegal plastic surgery techniques — and had no plan to throw Botox parties — and ultimately they sided with me despite Margaret’s screeching. She is a complete and total freak, by the way. She never let it go.”

  “What do you mean?” Landon asked.

  “She stalked me after that for five straight months. She hung around my house, spied through the windows when I had clients. I think she was convinced she was going to catch me doing something nefarious.”

  I snorted, some of my anxiety lifting. “That sounds just like her. She did the same to us, hid on the property and tried to catch us dancing naked out by the bluffs.”

  Landon cocked an eyebrow. “You guys dance naked in that area all the time.”

  “Yes, but that’s none of her business.”

  “Wait ... there’s really naked dancing going on out there?” Hopper’s eyes sparked. “I can’t believe I missed that. I thought all the people who claimed that were crazy ... or perverts.”

  “There are plenty of perverts in this town,” Landon said, sobering. “I happen to like a good pervert.” He winked and it was somehow soothing. “For now, we need to focus on you. We need to confirm your death and then call Chief Terry. He’s technically in charge.”

  “How do we confirm his death without owning up to how we found out?” I asked.

  “We’ll figure that out once we confirm things. For now, our first order of business is confirmation. After that, we’ll figure out what we’ll put in the reports.”

  “Okay, but I want you to know I’m going to freak out about a disembodied voice sounding like me later.”

  “I expect nothing less.”

  “THIS PLACE IS CUTE.”

  Landon was unusually chipper when he parked on the street in front of Hopper’s house. For his part, the ghost didn’t seem to think it was abnormal to ride with us. He climbed in the back, forcing Landon to open the door for him because he was uncomfortable moving through doors yet, and he kept up a steady stream of chatter during the ride.

  “I thought it was a lovely home,” Hopper agreed as he hovered on the sidewalk next to me. Landon shut the rear door and moved closer. “I loved the gingerbread accents.”

  “Yeah, they’re great,” I drawled. “I can’t tell you how cute the house is. By the way, there’s a dead body inside.”

  “Sweetie, you need to calm down,” Landon, firm, instructed. “You’ve seen dead bodies before. If you don’t want to see this one, you don’t have to. Stay here.”

  I bristled. “It’s not the dead body that bothers me.”

  “I know. It’s the disembodied voice. We’ll talk about that later.”

  I was of the mind that we should talk about the disembodied voice now, but as an FBI agent, Landon was in charge. I couldn’t exactly argue with his decision to focus on a potential murder rather than my freak-out. “How do you want to confirm it?”

  “Where is the living room, Mike?” Landon asked. He was surprisingly comfortable talking to a ghost. Technically, it wasn’t the first time he’d held a conversation with a spirit. A year ago the ghost of a little girl appeared to him when I was in trouble and warned him to come after me. He never questioned it. He hadn’t seen a ghost since, but he was handling our current circumstances extremely well.

  “The bay window looks into the living room,” Hopper answered. “Bay window. Bay Winchester. Oh, that’s funny. Did your mother name you after her favorite window?”

  I found the question ludicrous. “Of course not.”

  “She was named after the herb,” Landon volunteered. “The same with Clove and Thistle.”

  “Oh, that makes sense. Your mothers must have been full of whimsy.”

  They were full of something. Usually it was complaints and guilt trips, but that was hardly the thing to focus on now. “Let’s just look through the window, shall we?”

  “Come on.” Landon linked his fingers with mine, perhaps offering me support. I didn’t need the support but I was happy for the contact. He led the way up the steps, taking me by surprise when he knocked on the front door before looking through the small window at the top of the door.

  “He’s dead,” I reminded him. “He can’t answer.”

  “No, but the neighbors are watching,” Landon explained. “See that curtain moving over there?” he gestured to the house on the left with his chin. “Whoever is inside has been watching since we parked.”

  “Esther MacReady,” I said automatically. “She’s in her eighties. She’s a regular at the senior center. I’m sure she spends all of her time watching the street. I think that’s normal for older people.”

  “Well, we don’t want to appear as if we already know he’s dead,” Landon said. “She might find that weird.” He knocked again and called out. “Mr. Hopper? It’s Landon Michaels and Bay Winchester. We need to talk to you.”

  No one answered. Of course, I didn’t expect anyone to. “Now what?”

  “Now we do the normal thing.” He released my hand and moved to the window, raising his fingers to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. I remained rooted to my spot and watched as his body demeanor stiffened.

  “Do you see him?”

  “Yeah.” Landon was grim as he turned back to me. “It’s just as Mike said. He’s dead on the floor.”

  I didn’t need to look, yet I couldn’t stop myself. I shuffled closer to the window and mimicked Landon’s earlier movements to peer inside.

  Mike Hopper was indeed dead on the floor. He looked to be wearing a robe, although it was open. His chest was a mess of blood and a knife remained firmly planted to the hilt in a spot close to his heart.

  “He would’ve died quickly,” Landon said quietly, sparing a glance for Esther’s moving curtain. “There’s a lot of blood, but he would’ve bled out fast given the location of the wound. Even if someone had called 911 immediately it’s doubtful that he would’ve lived.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “It’s a chest wound, Bay, and it’s deep.”

  “Okay.” I sucked in a breath and tore my gaze from the garish tableau on the other side of the window. “He l
ooks as if he was either going to bed or getting up when it happened. He clearly wasn’t dressed for meeting people.”

  “Definitely not,” Landon agreed. “That means someone either snuck in or Mike was expecting a guest and didn’t mention it.” He shifted his gaze over his shoulder and focused on the ghost, who didn’t appear upset to see himself dead a second time. “Were you expecting anyone last night?”

  “Not that I can remember.” Hopper turned thoughtful. “Things are a blur. I remember finishing up with my clients yesterday, a young married couple from Traverse City. They were having difficulties agreeing on children. He wanted them. She didn’t. They decided to give it a year and then talk about the issue again, when it wasn’t so soon after the wedding.

  “They left in relatively good spirits, and I closed my office for the day,” he continued. “I was going to cook dinner but decided I didn’t want to deal with it and headed to the diner instead.”

  “Did you make it to the diner?” I asked.

  He bobbed his head. “Yes. I had meatloaf. That seems a bit mundane for a final meal. I kind of wish I’d splurged on the prime rib.”

  “Always splurge on the prime rib,” Landon suggested. “And bacon. Always add bacon to everything.”

  “That’s a given.” Hopper smiled. “I finished dinner. I walked home.”

  “You walked?” Landon queried. “It was cold last night.”

  “It’s only four blocks and I try to get exercise in whenever I can,” Mike supplied. “Hemlock Cove really needs a gym.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying,” Landon agreed.

  “A gym doesn’t fit in with the touristy nature of the town,” I argued.

  “Tourists like to exercise,” Landon persisted. “I’m going to talk to your mother about adding a gym to The Overlook. I bet it would be a draw for the guests.”

  “The guests come for the food and dinner theater.”

  “That doesn’t mean a gym won’t be welcome. That’s not important now. You walked home, Mike. Obviously you arrived. Did you go to bed?”

  “I can’t remember.”