Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Don’t push me.”

  “Don’t push me either,” Chief Terry barked. “I can’t take it when you guys are all over each other. It makes me want to cut off your hands.”

  “You’re zero fun,” Landon lamented.

  “That’s not what Winnie said last night.”

  My mouth dropped open at the statement. “Did you just brag about having sex with my mother?” I was mortified. “Ugh. I’ll never feel clean again.”

  “Suck it up.” Chief Terry obviously wasn’t in the mood to back down. “I’ve had to listen to you and Agent Romeo over here fall all over each other for a year and a half. Now it’s my turn. You’ll get used to it.”

  That didn’t ease my nausea. “I kind of can’t look at you,” I supplied. “You’re freaking me out.”

  “Oh, grow up.” His smile was indulgent as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’m going to like this arrangement.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Mom met me in the front lobby when I was getting ready to leave.

  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  That sounded like a very bad idea. Her expression was earnest, though, and I didn’t see where I had a choice. “Listen, if you’re going to apologize for what happened with Chief Terry, don’t bother. It’s not a big deal ... even if you did go back on every single thing you ever told us when we were growing up about sleeping with boys on the first date.”

  Mom’s expression darkened, making me — not for the first time, mind you — wish I had kept my mouth shut. “I wasn’t going to apologize for what happened with Terry. I’m not sorry for that – and you need to grow up.”

  “I’m plenty grown. That doesn’t change the fact that you told us over and over that sleeping with a boy on the first date was wrong. Apparently it’s only wrong if we’re doing it. You can’t pretend you’re not a hypocrite on this one.”

  Mom’s expression was withering. “I’m an adult. You were a child. I don’t regret what I told you.”

  “Which means you said it merely because of my age.” I thought of Clove, what she was going through struggling with the notion of disappointing her mother. “What else did you guys tell us that’s no longer true? I mean ... our faces really aren’t going to freeze that way, are they?”

  Despite the somber mood of the room, Mom cracked a smile. “Bay, you’re an adult now. I’m sure you’ve figured out that most of the things we told you were specific to a certain age. Does it really matter? Are you unhappy with Terry’s presence in the house?”

  “No. I like him here.” I meant it. “I simply don’t like thinking about him doing dirty things with my mother. It freaks me out.”

  “Kind of like Landon’s obsession with you smelling like bacon freaks everyone else out?”

  I should’ve known. “I take it Aunt Tillie informed you about that one.”

  “Aunt Tillie likes to gossip.” Mom’s lips curved. “She had fun camping with you guys the other night.”

  That wasn’t exactly how I remembered it. “She’s looking for dirt on Mrs. Little. She didn’t really care about spending time with us.”

  “That’s not true. She says that she enjoys learning from a younger generation.”

  “Oh, please.” I didn’t bother to hide my eye roll. “We both know she didn’t say that. She thinks we’re dabblers of the utmost order. She hasn’t learned a thing from any of us.”

  “She’s a big talker. As for learning ... I don’t know that she believes that’s important. Merely spending time with you is enough to make her happy.”

  I didn’t believe that for a second. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. “You want something. What is it?”

  “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

  “I don’t have much time. I think it’s best if we get down to it. What do you want?”

  “I want you to take some time to tell Terry you’re fine with this. He’s nervous.”

  That wasn’t the answer I expected. “You want me to tell him I am fine with you sleeping with him on the first date? Why would he care about that?”

  “Bay.” Mom folded her arms over her chest. “You know what I’m talking about. We’re having a good time. There is a mild bit of stress for both of us, though, and that stress revolves around you.”

  I thought about messing with her a bit, but I didn’t have the heart … or the time. Besides, I might need her on my side when the truth about Clove hiding her pregnancy comes to light. She would have no choice but to aid us when I reminded her how gracious I was in her time of need.

  What? That’s smart, not manipulative.

  “I’ll talk to him later today,” I said without hesitation.

  “You will?” Now it was Mom’s turn to be suspicious. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. It has to wait until after I’m done at the camp. I promised Landon I would get those records and take them to the police station as soon as possible. Clove and Thistle have to open the store for the tourists, so we have to go now.”

  “Oh, well ... that sounds fine.” Mom offered up a pretty smile that made her look decades younger. She really was happy, which was a good thing. “I’m glad you see things my way.”

  “Yes, I love knowing my mother is a hypocrite.” I smoothly evaded the smack she aimed at my arm. “We’re going to talk about all the things you told me as a kid and see which ones still stand,” I warned. “I’m going to make a list. You’d better prepare yourself.”

  “Just get going.” Her eyes flashed. “I want a full report of your conversation with Terry before the end of the day.”

  “No problem. There’s a murderer who killed two women over a ten-year period running around, but your love life takes priority.” I flashed her a sarcastic thumbs-up. “I’m on this.”

  “You make me tired, Bay.”

  “Right back at you.”

  AUNT TILLIE INSISTED ON GOING with us. I should’ve seen it coming — she was nothing if not predictable — but I didn’t have time for an argument.

  “Fine. But you can’t bring Peg.”

  “Twila is watching Peg,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I have plans to spy on Margaret later this afternoon. You can’t spy on someone if you have a pig. Didn’t you know that?”

  “I never really gave it much thought.”

  “Well, I didn’t know it. People stare when you have a pig on a leash.”

  “Perhaps you should disguise her as a dog.”

  It was meant as a joke, but Aunt Tillie brightened considerably. “That’s a great idea. I’ll try that tomorrow. For now, I’m going to the camp with you and then you can drop me in town for the day. I’ve got everything mapped out.”

  “You mean you’ve got a full day of torture planned for Mrs. Little.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what I said.”

  It took us twenty minutes to get to the camp. I parked in the lot, which had seen more activity in the past week than it had in a decade, and killed the engine of my car. “You guys can stay here if you want,” I offered, turning to Clove and Thistle in the backseat. “I won’t be long. I’m just going to grab all the files.”

  “Then we’ll wait here,” Clove said. “This camp gives me the creeps as it is. It’s not like when we were kids. I used to love coming here back then. Now, not so much. You can feel the death hanging over this place – and I don’t like it.”

  Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might fall through the passenger-side door. “Oh, geez. You’re such a kvetch. Have you ever made it throughout a day without whining?”

  “Have you ever made it through a day without ... being you?” Thistle challenged.

  Aunt Tillie narrowed her eyes. “You’re definitely on my list, mouth. Congratulations. You’ll be my side distraction when I’m not thinking about Margaret this afternoon.”

  Thistle’s expression remained defiant, but I didn’t miss her hard swallow. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Then you finally supplanted your mother as the dum
best one in the family. Double congratulations to you.” Aunt Tillie held Thistle’s gaze for an extended beat and then slowly tracked her eyes to me. “I want to check the wards while you’re grabbing the files. It won’t take long.”

  “I thought the wards were just so no damage could happen to the campground,” I challenged. “Why would you need to check them?”

  “I might’ve added an extra dose of itchy ass to them and stamped Margaret’s name on the wards. Sue me.”

  My eyebrows flew up. “Itchy ass? Is that a thing?”

  “I made a new spell when I was bored.”

  “Oh, I totally want to learn that spell.” Thistle leaned closer. “What roots do you use? Does it physically harm someone or do they literally have an itchy ass the entire time? I think that’s a brilliant idea, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” Aunt Tillie drawled. “You’re still on my list.”

  Thistle’s expression darkened. “Thank you so much for being my aunt.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Aunt Tillie and I exited the vehicle at the same time. I left my keys with Clove and Thistle so they could control the air conditioning and radio, and headed toward the office as Aunt Tillie moved toward the lake.

  “You have ten minutes,” I called out to her. “I have to get back to town. I promised Mom I would do something today and I would rather get it out of the way as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, she finally approached you to have the talk with Terry, huh?” She made a tsking sound as she shook her head. “I saw that coming. Terry is happy. His skin has never looked better. He’s nervous around you, though. That’s what she was afraid of. It’s the reason they never dated when you were younger.”

  I frowned. “I’ll make sure he’s not nervous around me. That’s not what I want.”

  “I know that. Your mother knows it, too. Heck, I think Terry knows that. You’re the reason this is finally happening. You gave him the okay. Things will settle down in a bit. Our family likes drama. This is just the current bit of drama. In a few weeks something new will come along and this will be forgotten.”

  I had a feeling I knew what the incoming drama would revolve around. “Ten minutes,” I repeated. “I don’t want to waste the entire morning here.”

  “I’ve got it, whiner. You’re not the boss of me.”

  “No, but I am your ride.”

  “Try to leave me,” she suggested, a glint in her eye. “Just wait and see what you’ll smell like if that happens.”

  “I have no intention of leaving you.” I meant it. “There’s a killer on the loose,” I reminded her. “We need to stick together.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  The office looked largely as I remembered — files strewn across the floor, the undeniable odor of musty neglect permeating the air — and I immediately set about sweeping all the documents together. They would be a pain to sort through at the police station, but it was safer doing it there.

  Once I collected all the files, I headed toward the old cabinet pressed against the wall. It was metal and rusted through thanks to the humidity, but it opened with a creaky groan. There were a few files left inside. I gathered those as well so there would be no need to return to the camp — I was starting to feel the creep factor as well — and then gave the office a long once-over. In truth, I found it sad that the camp had lost its former glory. I understood what Gertie and Earl were trying to build. They were too late. They made the attempt at a time when society was shifting. Had they tried twenty years earlier they would’ve made a real go of it ... and for a long time. Now, everything the camp should’ve been was shrouded in memory mist. In a few months, it would be completely gone, wiped from the earth.

  The realization made me inexplicably sad, which is why I initially disregarded the hair standing up on the back of my neck. I waited until a tingling sensation — as if a thousand spiders were crawling over my back — caused me to shudder.

  I felt a set of eyes on me before I turned. I expected to find Vicky watching — she had a habit of creeping up when she thought no one was paying attention — but Randy was the one standing in the doorway. The way he looked at me caused my blood to run cold.

  “What are you doing here?” The words felt awkward tumbling out of my mouth, as if my tongue was suddenly too large. My heart rate picked up a notch as he glanced around the cabin and I couldn’t help wondering what he had planned. “Chief Terry and Landon are looking for you. They know you were never hired to look after the camp.”

  Instead of snapping at me, which I expected, Randy merely shrugged. “I figured they would find out the truth sooner or later. Honestly, I’m surprised it took them as long as it did. How did they know?”

  “We asked Gertie when we saw her here the night after the fire. Was that you?”

  “Does it matter?” His gaze was challenging. “You’ve already made up your mind about me. I mean ... look at you. You’re shrinking you’re so afraid of me. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

  I didn’t believe him for a second. “Did you kill Hannah Bishop?”

  He balked. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because someone killed her, and it was someone who spent a lot of time around this campground. Gertie can’t get out here on a regular basis like she could when she was younger. That leaves you, the man who claimed he was watching over the camp for money ... which turned out to be a lie.”

  “Listen ... .”

  I held up a hand when he stepped in my direction. “Don’t come any closer.” I infused my voice with as much malice as I could muster. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will. If you come any closer I will make you pay in ways you’ve only imagined in nightmares.”

  Randy froze in his place, his eyes narrowing. “I just told you that I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “And I don’t believe you.” I clutched the files tighter against my chest. “I don’t understand why you would hang out in this campground if you weren’t being paid to do it. Why would you care about this place otherwise?”

  “I’ve been living here.” He stated it as fact. “In one of the storage cabins across the lake. That’s safer than staying on this side.”

  I made a grumbling sound deep in my throat. “I knew we should’ve checked those cabins. It seemed like a lot of work, but we definitely should’ve done it.”

  “I guess you should have,” Randy agreed. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not a killer. No matter what you’re thinking about me, it’s wrong. I’m not who you think I am.”

  “You keep saying that. I can’t wrap my head around why you would be living in a cabin without any power if you didn’t have a reason for doing so.”

  “Poverty isn’t enough of a reason for you?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe you wanted to stay close to your victims,” I countered. “Did you kill Vicky Carpenter? Was she your first?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not a killer?”

  I ignored the question. “Were you a counselor here back then? I don’t remember you. How did you meet Vicky? Were you already living out here before we were aware you were in town? I don’t understand how that would work.”

  “I’ll tell you how it would work,” Aunt Tillie announced, appearing in the open doorway. She’d snuck up on us when we were focused on each other. For an octogenarian, she had light feet. She was like an evil cat that way.

  Randy slid her a look. He didn’t seem surprised by her sudden appearance. “Ms. Tillie.”

  “Joey.”

  My heart rolled at the word and my eyes flew to Aunt Tillie. “What?”

  “Joey Morgan,” Aunt Tillie confirmed, her expression thoughtful. “I didn’t realize it was you until last night. It came to me out of the blue.”

  “You’re smarter than most,” Randy countered. “You’re the only one to ever figure it out ... other than my mother, I mean.”

  “Your mother.” A multitude of ideas collided in my head. “Does your mother know you
’re alive? Does she know what name you’re operating under? I don’t understand any of this.”

  “You’re not meant to understand,” Randy said. “It was supposed to be a secret. That’s why I faked my death and ran. I left this place right after the fire. The goal was to start a new life, never look back. Things didn’t work out exactly as I’d hoped.”

  “You faked your death to hide your culpability in Vicky’s death,” I surmised.

  “Stop saying that.” Randy’s eyes fired with fury. “I’m not a killer. No matter how many times you say it, that doesn’t make it true. I might’ve been a lazy kid. Heck, I might still be a lazy adult. I also might’ve run and taken the coward’s way out. That doesn’t mean I’m a killer.”

  “Okay.” I was willing to play his game and at least listen. “If you’re not a killer, who is?”

  “My mother. She’s been at this for a very long time.”

  I was astounded. “That is ridiculous.”

  “Hear me out.”

  I looked to Aunt Tillie. Her stance told me she was interested in the story. “Fine.” I held up my hands in capitulation. “Tell me a story about your mother the murderer.”

  “You’re dubious now, but it’s the truth.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Well, it started with my father ... and my goal is to make sure it ends with Hannah Bishop. At least I think it started with my father. I have a few suspicions about my grandparents. But that’s not part of this story.”

  “Just get to it,” Aunt Tillie prodded.

  Twenty-Eight

  Randy – or Joey, depending on how you looked at him – seemed to relish his tale.

  “My mother is a horrible person.”

  “Well, you’re claiming she’s a murderer, so I think that goes without saying,” I said dully.

  “She’s always been horrible,” Randy stressed. “When I was a kid, she used to lock me in the closet if I was too loud. She said she got migraines and that I was the cause, and the only way to get rid of them was to lock me away.”