Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set

by Amanda M. Lee

  That made sense. “Do you think he was watching us all afternoon?”

  “I think he knew we were here,” she replied. “I don’t know that he could’ve gotten close enough to really watch us without us figuring it out. I’m a really powerful witch, after all. I would’ve known.”

  “Yes you’re a very powerful witch,” I muttered, shaking my head. “There’s no way you can cast a spell and force him to row back here, is there?”

  “I’m powerful, not omnipotent.”

  “It was just a question. But the way you talk, one would think that you’re the most powerful being in the world. I’m pretty sure if that were true the most powerful being would be able to make that guy row back to this beach so we can question him.”

  “Keep it up,” Aunt Tillie warned. “I’ll put you at the top of my list if you’re not careful.”

  “It was a simple suggestion.”

  “Yeah, well ... it’s something I can’t do. Especially when I can’t actually see anyone to curse. He might not even still be out there. He might’ve landed in another spot and escaped. We don’t know.”

  She had a point, still ... . “It’s got to be a local.” The thought made my stomach dance. “It has to be someone we know. I don’t see another explanation.”

  “It’s definitely someone we know,” Aunt Tillie agreed, turning her eyes back to the cabin. The storm had doused all the flames. “We need to ward that so it can’t catch fire a second time. Just to be on the safe side, I mean. We haven’t gone through everything yet.”

  “Good plan.” I fell into step with her as we headed back to the cabin. “I guess the good news is that the constant upheaval out here will keep Mrs. Little from being able to buy the property.”

  “Oh, she’s not getting her hands on this property.” Aunt Tillie sounded sure of herself. “There’s very little that gives me true joy in this world. Messing with Margaret is one of those things. She’ll get this property over my dead body.”

  “That might be an added benefit for her.” When Aunt Tillie didn’t immediately respond, I risked a glance at her. “I was speaking about her perspective. From our perspective, we don’t want to ever see your dead body.”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “I just thought I would spell it out for you.”

  “That was nice of you.” Aunt Tillie scuffed her shoes against the ground as we walked. “You’re still on my list, Bay.”

  I groaned. “I figured.”

  “Your punishment won’t be pretty.”

  “I figured that, too.”

  “Prepare yourself.”

  Twenty

  Landon was furious the next morning when he heard what had happened. His anger was pointed inward.

  “I shouldn’t have drunk so much. I’m sorry.” He pulled me in for a hug as I sat cross-legged next to him on the air mattress. “You should’ve woken me up, Bay.” He kissed my temple and rolled so I was snuggled in at his side.

  The morning sun filtered through the old windows and cast an eerie light over the inside of the cabin. From our vantage point on the floor I could see all the names carved into the walls, and it made me nostalgic for my childhood ... even though one of the first names I caught sight of was Lila’s.

  “You were out cold. Besides, when I first went outside, it was simply because I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know I was going to run into a ghost and an arsonist.”

  “Ugh. That freaks me out.” He brushed his hand over my hair. “I don’t suppose you can give me a description of the guy?”

  “He looked like a shadow.”

  “A shadow?”

  “Yes. Put an APB out on Peter Pan’s shadow. That’s what I saw.”

  “I get it. There’s no need to get snippy. It was dark.”

  “I’m not trying to be snippy.” I buried my face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. “I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well. I kept thinking I heard something outside even though Aunt Tillie and I warded all the cabins.”

  “What time did you finally get back to bed?”

  “Around three.”

  “So ... you only got a few hours of sleep.” He tightened his grip on me. “I’m sorry. I really wish you would’ve woken me.”

  “What could you have done that we didn’t do?”

  “I have a gun. I could’ve shot the guy running toward the lake.”

  There was a point. “You were also drunk. You would’ve lost your job if you did that, and we both know it.”

  “I wasn’t drunk.”

  “You were tipsy. I know.”

  “I was tipsy and gifted in the romance department. Don’t leave that second part out.”

  “Never.” I was so comfortable getting up seemed like a huge ordeal. I didn’t see where we had a choice, though. “We should get moving. I don’t know that it’s wise for us to stay out here another day.”

  “Are you afraid?” He met my even gaze. “Do you think this guy is going to come back? If so, I can arrange for agents to stake this place out for the foreseeable future.”

  That sounded like a potential nightmare. “And what happens when I have to come back to talk to a ghost? How will I explain that? Your co-workers will catch me, and then you’ll never hear the end of it. You’ll be Agent Michaels, the guy whose girlfriend sneaks around in the middle of nowhere talking to her imaginary friends.”

  “First, I don’t care what other people say about you,” he argued. “I only care what I think and I happen to believe you’re the prettiest witch in the Midwest.”

  I was in a bad mood and didn’t want to encourage him. It was difficult, though, because the simple statement filled me with warmth.

  “Second, my co-workers already think I lucked out because they’ve seen photographs of you,” he continued. “I have a framed one on my desk at work. Everyone who sees the photo comments on how pretty you are.”

  “They could just be placating you,” I countered. “I mean ... I don’t know anybody who is going to say to a guy, ‘Man, your girlfriend looks like her mother and father were brother and sister.’”

  Landon laughed as he pulled me tighter. “That’s a point, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

  “Then call them.”

  “No, that’s not a good idea.”

  I propped my chin on his chest and stared down at him. “You just went on a diatribe about how you didn’t care what they think. Have you already changed your mind?”

  “Essentially,” he confirmed, nodding. “I don’t care if they think you’re out here talking to yourself. That will cut down on any trips you can make to talk to your ghost, no matter what.

  “When you add to that the fact that we may need to come here for another reason — and, no, I’m not sure what that reason would be at this point — then I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he continued. “I think it’s smarter for you guys to set a few magical traps if you can manage it.”

  “I’m sure Aunt Tillie is already doing just that. We should probably check on the main cabin. I think Aunt Tillie put out the fire before it did too much damage.”

  He kissed the tip of my nose. “We’ll pack up, check the cabin and then head to town for breakfast. I’m starving and I have no intention of eating a granola bar. Only pancakes will do.”

  I grinned. He was such a food-oriented individual that his reactions were easily telegraphed. “You just don’t want to talk about bacon in front of Peg.”

  “You’re not wrong about that.” He gave me another quick kiss and then released me. “Come on. Let’s get this show on the road. I want to see how much damage was done, and then I want to get out of here.”

  “The camp isn’t as romantic as you thought it was going to be, is it?”

  He shot me a quick look. “It’s plenty romantic. And I still want to spend time out here. I just want to catch the killer first. I don’t want to have to worry about you accidentally getting set on fire when you wander outside to talk to
ghosts after dark.”

  I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing at the absurd statement.

  “I never thought I would say anything even remotely close to that,” he said after a moment’s contemplation. “You’ve changed my life, Bay.”

  “You’ve changed mine, too.”

  The kiss he graced me with this time was softer. “We’ll figure it out. This place is always going to be important to me. And, for the record, I’m always going to be a romantic dynamo, even if I’m tipsy. Neither one of those things have changed.”

  “Good to know.”

  GERTIE WAS AT THE OFFICE CABIN when we finished loading our gear into the back of Landon’s Explorer. I wasn’t expecting her — my understanding was that she rarely visited the camp and she’d already been here once this week — but it was hard to miss her furious countenance as she stalked the front of the cabin and glared at the scorched roof.

  “How could you do this?” she seethed when she saw us approaching. “How could you set fire to my property?”

  “We didn’t,” I replied hurriedly, increasing my pace. “Someone else came from the lake and did it.”

  “Someone came from the lake?” Gertie was understandably dubious. “Why would someone do that?”

  “That’s the question we’re trying to answer,” Landon replied. “We’re not certain who it was. Bay and Aunt Tillie were outside and saw someone fleeing toward the water. They could not make out his features, but they’re fairly certain it was a man.”

  “And he ran toward the lake?” Gertie’s forehead wrinkled as she looked toward the water. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “That makes two of us. We were just coming to check out the cabin to see how much damage was done. We lucked out when that storm came through last night and put out the fire.”

  “What storm?” If Gertie was bewildered before, she was positively dumbfounded now. “It didn’t storm by my house.”

  “It must’ve been a quick cloudburst,” I smoothly lied. “It sparked up and died here very fast.”

  “A storm?” Gertie shook her head as she rubbed her toe over the wet ground. “I guess you’re right. It obviously did rain here. I don’t get that.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of Aunt Tillie so I could keep her away with a look. “You can never explain the weather in Michigan. What’s that old saying? If you don’t like it, just wait five minutes.”

  “I guess.” Gertie was dejected as we let ourselves into the cabin. She spent all her time looking at the roof while I studied the files strewn about the floor. I was convinced they were in a different configuration than how Aunt Tillie and I had left them the previous afternoon.

  “Someone has been in here,” I muttered.

  Landon briefly looked to me and squeezed my hand before moving closer to Gertie. “Does anything look out of place?”

  Gertie shrugged. “I haven’t been in this building for years. I have no idea.”

  “We could ask Randy,” I suggested, bending over to study a scattered stack of papers. It was the tower I’d built when looking for lists from previous summers. Someone had obviously gone through the files before setting the fire. “He might have checked inside the buildings during one of his stops out here.”

  “Randy who?” Gertie asked absently.

  “Randy Weaver.”

  “Why would Randy Weaver be out here?”

  I stilled, surprised. “You hired him to watch the grounds.”

  “I most certainly did not.” Gertie turned haughty. “I don’t have enough money to hire anyone to do anything. If I did, I most certainly wouldn’t hire Randy to do anything. He’s a complete and total waste of space … and I know that because the people at the grocery store constantly complain about his shoddy work.”

  “But ... we’ve seen him out here.” I looked to Landon for help. “We’ve seen him more than once. He said that he was here on your orders and even apologized because he said he wasn’t checking in as often as he promised you.”

  Gertie let loose a derisive snort. “You’re saying he admitted to falling down on a fake job? That sounds just like him. He’s such a lazybones. That’s what Rhonda at the grocery store says. I’ve never actually met him. I think I saw him across a parking lot once. He wasn’t much for talking. Still, I can’t believe he’s been out here. I bet he’s been sleeping in the cabins or something. Heck, I bet he’s been stealing items from the cabins to sell.”

  I wouldn’t put that past Randy. The guy was a total loser. He never met an opportunity he didn’t want to exploit. Still, this made zero sense.

  “Was there anything worth stealing out here?” Landon asked. “I mean ... what could he have stolen and gotten money for?”

  “How should I know?” Gertie’s temper came out on full display. This very clearly wasn’t her week. “There are all sorts of black markets out there. I mean ... whatever happened to my copper tubing? I keep hearing about thieves trying to steal copper tubing.”

  “This camp was built decades ago,” I pointed out. “I don’t think there is copper tubing. I mean ... that’s plumbing, right?” I glanced at Landon for confirmation. “There are only old outhouses out here. You don’t have plumbing. I mean ... the showers were really old even when we were visiting, and essentially the water was pumped from the lake.”

  “Thank you, Bay,” she said dryly. “That’s obviously important to this conversation.”

  Landon smirked when I raised my eyebrows and then gently nudged me to increase the distance between Gertie and me. Clearly he was convinced that my proximity was agitating her.

  “Gertie, if you didn’t hire Randy Weaver, why would he be out here?” Landon queried. “I mean ... it doesn’t make much sense that he would want to hang out here willingly. I very much doubt there’s anything of value to steal. There has to be another reason.”

  “And thank you for that,” Gertie muttered, shaking her head. “It’s like you two are getting off insulting me. If I didn’t already have hemorrhoids you would’ve just given them to me, along with agitating my ulcer.”

  “It’s not like that at all,” Landon argued. “I need to understand why Randy would want to come here. There’s no gold hidden on the property, right?”

  Gertie’s expression was withering. “Yes. I hid gold out here. That’s why I’m in financial trouble. I have gold and don’t want to spend it.”

  “It was just a simple question.”

  “Yeah? Well, there is no simple answer.” Gertie’s tone had bite. “I don’t know why anyone would hang out here. Have you considered Randy was hiding bodies? He’s been in the area for more than five years, which means he’s familiar with it. He’s never worked for me, but he’s obviously familiar with the property. Perhaps he’s your killer.”

  “I guess that’s possible.” Landon rubbed his chin as he regarded me. “Do you think you saw Randy last night? I mean ... he knew we were here. He even knew we were going through the files in that cabin.”

  I thought about the furtive figure I’d witnessed fleeing toward the lake. “I guess,” I said after a beat. “I didn’t see a face, but Randy has the right size and build.”

  “Then I guess we need to find Randy.”

  LANDON DROPPED ME AT the newspaper office after breakfast. I really needed a shower — a night spent drinking by the fire and being rained on had left me disheveled and dirty — but Landon wanted to track down Randy as soon as possible and didn’t have time to head back to The Overlook. I would have to muddle through the day and then take the longest bath ever later.

  The newspaper’s resident ghost Viola — a woman who died months ago but absolutely refused to move on because she was afraid she might miss something — was waiting for me in my office when I arrived.

  She wasn’t alone.

  “Vicky?” I didn’t bother hiding my surprise at the appearance of the ghost. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t realize how hostile the greeting sounded until it was already
out of my mouth. “I mean ... do you need something? Have you remembered something helpful?”

  She looked like a woman on the edge when she slowly turned her eyes to me. “You’re right. I’m dead.”

  Sympathy rolled over me. “I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you.”

  “I’m sorrier that I’m dead,” she replied ruefully. “I thought about what you said last night, about how I’ve been gone for more than ten years. I didn’t want to believe you, but it makes sense. I think I’ve been floating for a long time.”

  I kept my attention on her as I sat in my desk chair. “Is that what it’s been like for you? Have you been floating?”

  “That’s what it feels like. I mean ... I knew that things weren’t right. I couldn’t seem to get my brain to work the correct way. It didn’t seem weird to me that I was constantly hanging around the camp even though no one else was there.

  “There were times people came to visit and I watched them,” she continued. “Like ... once there was an older woman who wore a sweatshirt with a unicorn on it. She came with a man and another woman, and they were talking about something serious.”

  “Like real estate?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “That sounds right.”

  “Mrs. Little,” I muttered, shaking my head.

  “Oh, is Margaret finally putting her plan into action?” Viola asked. She was a former cohort of Mrs. Little’s and knew a lot about the woman. “I’m not surprised. She’s wanted that parcel for years.”

  “To build condos on?” I asked.

  “That and a few other things. She has big plans for that land.”

  I had big questions for Viola, but now was not the time to dwell on the camp. I needed to focus on Vicky. We had a murderer on the loose. That was definitely more important. “Vicky, I know it’s difficult, but I need you to think back to your last days at the camp. I’m talking about your last real days, when you were alive.”

  “I don’t remember dying,” Vicky pointed out. “How can I know when I was last alive when I can’t remember dying?”