Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set

by Amanda M. Lee

  Landon ignored the dig. “Okay. I’m fine with this. Have fun.” He gave me an absent kiss before separating. “I’ll see you in the morning, sweetie ... I’m going to pick Peg up at the inn.”

  My mouth dropped open as he practically skipped away. “Well, I guess I know where I rank.”

  Mom unsuccessfully attempted to smother a chuckle. “There, there.” She lightly patted my arm. “Think of it as a dry run for when you have children and you’re not the most important person in each other’s lives.”

  That didn’t make me feel better. “I definitely need a chocolate martini.”

  “You and me both,” Thistle added. “This has been a crazy night.”

  And it was likely to get crazier.

  WE SETTLED IN AT THE DANDRIDGE, slipping into pajamas Clove supplied. They were new, a gift she’d purchased for us, and we all matched. The look on Thistle’s face when she realized we were in identical pink pajama sets was worth the entire ordeal ... and so was the photo I snapped when she wasn’t looking. It would make good blackmail material for years to come.

  Thistle and I each indulged in two chocolate martinis, but that was the limit. We wanted to be well-rested for the next day, especially if we would have to engage in a fight. Clove insisted we all sleep together in the living room — she claimed the couch, leaving the floor for Thistle and me — but we didn’t argue.

  The martinis hit me harder than I expected. My eyes were so heavy I could barely keep them open as I slid into my sleeping bag on the floor. I dreamed almost instantly … and it was beyond odd. In the dream, Aunt Tillie was in the room with us and she carefully picked her way through the mess on the floor until she was next to Clove. She placed her hand on our cousin’s head and then muttered a spell I didn’t recognize.

  “Happy wedding,” she whispered before total blackness overcame me.

  After a brief respite, the dreams came fast and furious.

  There was the time we got Sugar for Christmas.

  I stilled. “I … who are you?” I had trouble putting a real face with the voice and beard. “I know you.”

  “Of course you know me,” the man said. “I’m Santa Claus! You don’t believe in Santa Claus, though, do you?”

  “No … yes … maybe … .” I didn’t know how to answer. “If you’re Santa Claus, did you bring me a gift?”

  “I did.”

  “What is it?”

  “You can’t have it until I’m sure you believe in me. Those are the rules.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Who makes these rules?”

  “My elves.”

  “Aren’t you the boss of your elves?”

  “I’m not the boss of anyone. It seems everyone tells me what to do and I do it.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a very good job,” I said.

  “It’s the best job in the world,” he countered. “I’m Santa Claus. I bring joy to the world, even if you don’t believe in me.”

  “Maybe I do believe in you. I … .”

  “If you believe in me, you have to say it.”

  “I believe in you,” I mumbled.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “She said she believes in you,” Clove yelled.

  “Thank you, Clove,” he said. I knew now, in the dream world, that it was Chief Terry. Back then I didn’t recognize him completely. “I know you believe. Your present will come as soon as Bay tells me she believes.”

  It was the moment of truth. I knew it. Everyone in town knew it. Now I only had to admit it.

  “Fine,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I believe in Santa Claus.”

  “I still can’t hear you,” Terry said, staring me down. “You need to say it louder!”

  “I believe in Santa Claus!” I practically screamed the words and Terry broke into a huge grin.

  “That’s better,” he said, leaning over and rummaging in the bag at his feet. When he turned around, he held a puppy. The black menace had a huge bow tied around its neck and it wriggled crazily.

  My eyes widened and my heart leapt as I took another step forward. “Is that for me?”

  “That’s for you, Clove and Thistle.”

  Tears threatened to overwhelm me. “Thank you.”

  “You have to take care of him. You girls have to feed him and walk him and love him. Do you think you’re up to the task?”

  “You bet we are,” Clove said, rushing to my side to pet the puppy. “Wow!”

  “How did you know to get us a puppy?” I asked.

  “One of my elves told me.”

  “How did the elf know?”

  “Your Aunt Tillie has a huge mouth,” Terry replied, smiling at me one more time before turning his attention to the rest of the children. “Who wants presents?”

  And the time we told Clove that Bigfoot was haunting the area around the Dandridge when we were spying on Sam.

  Clove hadn’t stopped whining since we’d left Hypnotic and the sound of her voice was starting to mentally chafe.

  “This isn’t hiking,” Thistle grumbled. “This is walking from the car to the lighthouse. It’s, like, half a mile.”

  “That’s hiking,” Clove complained.

  “Hiking is climbing up a mountain or traversing the wild terrain of Alaska,” Thistle countered. “A half a mile is not hiking.”

  “‘Traversing the wild terrain’?” I raised an eyebrow as I glanced at her.

  “I was watching Finding Bigfoot the other night,” Thistle replied absently. “They’re a little dramatic.”

  “That’s something we should do,” I said. “Look for Bigfoot.”

  “We would be awesome at that,” Thistle agreed.

  “Camping in the great outdoors, following tracks – it sounds fun,” I laughed. “We would need to bring Aunt Tillie. Even Bigfoot would be afraid of her.”

  “We would definitely bring Aunt Tillie,” Thistle agreed. “If she didn’t scare off Bigfoot, at least she’d be slow enough to distract him while we got away.”

  “Bigfoot isn’t real,” Clove interjected knowingly.

  “That’s what people say about witches,” Thistle replied.

  “Bay, you don’t think Bigfoot is real, do you?” Clove was now scanning the tree line worriedly, despite her bravado.

  “I don’t know,” I replied truthfully. “Most of those old legends have some basis in fact. Bigfoot was sighted in this area for more than a century, if you believe the old stories.”

  “And that song,” Thistle added. “What was it called? The Legend of the Dogman?”

  “I remember that,” Clove said suddenly. “It was a big deal when we were kids.”

  “It was just a radio gimmick,” Thistle scoffed. “Every seven years or so they bring it back. Every group of kids thinks they’re the first to hear it.”

  “But it’s not true,” Clove said, her eyes skittering warily around the dense foliage that surrounded us. “Right? It’s not true?”

  I glanced at Thistle, who wasn’t even trying to hide the evil expression gracing her face. I had a feeling a plan was forming and the next solstice celebration was going to be a full-on Bigfoot extravaganza – just to torture Clove.

  “I think you’re safe,” I replied. “If Bigfoot is real, he’s probably more scared of us than we are of him.”

  “I doubt that,” Clove said nervously.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll protect you,” Thistle teased.

  There was the time we all worked together to save Clove from the man she’d dated before Sam, an individual who shook her faith in love. We created a wind monster that day that looked a lot like our dearly-departed Uncle Calvin. Landon was there. That’s when he realized what we were.

  “I’m the one in charge here,” Trevor said angrily, worry on his face. “I’m the one with the knife.”

  “We don’t need a knife,” I said calmly.

  “I call the winds of the north,” Clove sang out from the far left, reaching her hand out to grasp Aunt Tillie’s waiting han
d. “Let’s show Trevor here what he’s worth.”

  “I call to the magic of the east,” Thistle chanted from my right, reaching her left hand out to grasp my right hand. “This will let us punish this beast.”

  I gripped Thistle’s hand harshly. “I call to the wardens of the west,” I started. “For they always find what’s best.”

  “What is this?” Trevor looked baffled. “Are you chanting? What are you guys? Witches?”

  I felt my hand slip into Aunt Tillie’s, unsure how this would end and curious at the same time.

  “And I call on the power of the south,” Aunt Tillie said, her eyes gleaming with rage. “Let’s show this lout how to close his big mouth.”

  It wasn’t our best rhyme, to be sure, but it was effective.

  Nothing happened right away, and Trevor looked triumphant in the moment. Then the power surged.

  “So mote it be.”

  I didn’t have to look behind me to know that my mother and aunts had joined hands behind us, pushing their power into our spell to tip it over the edge.

  The energy in the room exploded. There was another force present now, and it was bearing down on Trevor.

  I don’t know what he saw with that first glimpse, but the fear that washed over his face was more than enough to tell me not to look behind me.

  There was a sudden roar and the wind spell that we’d conjured moved through us with such force it threatened to wrench my arm from Aunt Tillie’s grasp. I didn’t let it, though. I knew that our joined hands were driving the spell.

  I risked a glance to my left and saw the monster move forward. The wind whipped through the room, driving my hair in front of my eyes. For a second, just a second, I recognized the figure in the wind – or at least I thought I did. I didn’t have time to focus on that, though, because our spell was descending on Trevor – who was making a mad dash to flee from the room.

  The wind monster reached out – yes, it had arms, though I had no idea where they had come from – and the ethereal fingers of death now had hold of Trevor. He tried in vain to stab the monster. You can’t stab the wind.

  Trevor’s screams were more pitiful than anything else as the wind monster engulfed him. “Help! Please, God, help me!”

  “There’s no help for you here, Trevor,” Aunt Tillie said coldly. “I’m the god here, and I want you out of my house!”

  Trevor screamed again. I couldn’t see his face. I didn’t want to. The mewling sounds now emitting from his ravaged throat were enough for me to know that his face would be worse. However bad he was, however terrible he was, I didn’t want to see this. But I couldn’t look away.

  “Holy shit!”

  We hadn’t heard the office door open. I swung in surprise when I heard the new voice and met Landon’s stunned gaze from across the room. I let go of Aunt Tillie’s hand. Thistle and Clove did the same.

  The wind monster dissipated as quickly as it had formed. Within seconds, the room was empty, and Trevor was unconscious on the floor.

  Landon stepped into the room, weapon drawn. He kicked Trevor with his foot and then turned to us anxiously.

  “Is he dead?”

  “No,” Aunt Tillie said fitfully. “He only wishes he were.”

  Landon turned to me, sweat washing down his face. His eyes flashed in recognition and intensity. I don’t know what I expected: questions, recriminations, outright denial? What Landon said, though, is something I’ll never forget.

  “Good job, ladies. Good job.”

  There were silly memories that involved threats to eat dirt.

  There were heavy memories, like when Clove needed emotional bolstering.

  There were also empowering memories ... and those were my favorite.

  They cascaded one after the other for the entire night. My sleep was heavy even though my brain was busy. I might never admit it to Clove, but this was a really good idea. We needed the time together to re-forge bonds that could never be truly broken.

  It was a good night.

  Twenty-Three

  I woke feeling rested, relaxed and a bit weepy. I found Thistle already awake and staring at me.

  “Aunt Tillie,” I said.

  Thistle nodded. “She put us under a sleep spell. I thought it was weird that I passed out after two drinks. And I swear I thought I saw her when I was struggling to stay awake. Then ... after all those dreams ... I knew.”

  “Me, too.” I glanced at Clove and found her still sleeping. “Do you think we should tell her?”

  Thistle shook her head. “Let her figure it out herself. It was a wedding gift for her, after all.”

  That was true. “She’ll be the most well-rested bride ever. She got a full night’s sleep before her wedding, wasn’t overtaken by nerves and had some pretty funny dreams.”

  “It was a gift for all of us,” Thistle said whimsically before her lips curved into a frown. “I hate that old bat. She only did this to drive me crazy.”

  I arched an amused eyebrow. “You just said it was a beautiful gift.”

  “I didn’t use that word.” Thistle gripped her sleeping bag in her fists. “I hate it when she does things that make me like her.”

  I knew better. Thistle was all bravado and brashness. She loved Aunt Tillie as much as the rest of us. Sure, Aunt Tillie drove us all crazy, but she was still lovable ... deep, deep down.

  “Well ... .” I was going to suggest we get up and shower so we could head out for breakfast when my phone started vibrating. I’d turned it to silent the previous night to make sure it didn’t alert and wake Clove. I recognized Landon’s number and smiled. “Did you miss me?”

  “You have no idea.” He sounded tired, as if he hadn’t slept a wink. “By the way, Aunt Tillie is on my list. Yeah, you heard me. My list. I’m going to curse her into oblivion.”

  I was amused despite the early hour. “What did she do?”

  “Do you know that Peg is up every two hours because she has to go outside? Did you know she squeals if you try to ignore her?”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, it’s true ... and I’m annoyed.”

  I had to laugh. “Well ... I’m sorry your adventures with Peg weren’t up to your lofty standards. I’m sure that was a disappointment.”

  The good news for both of us was that Peg interrupting his beauty sleep would give me a bit of breathing room before we had to tackle the dog issue. If we could make it through the summer that would be best for all concerned.

  “It wasn’t just Peg. I missed you.”

  He sounded morose, which gave me a small rush. “I missed you, too.”

  “I know we used to sleep apart a couple days a week, but I’ve become spoiled. I can’t sleep without you snoring away next to me.”

  My smile slipped. “I don’t snore.”

  “I missed the drool on my chest, too. Of course ... Peg drooled on my face so I wasn’t completely drool-free.”

  “You let her in our bed?”

  “It’s not like it was a woman. It was the only way she would settle down. I think Aunt Tillie has spoiled her.”

  “I think you’ve spoiled her.”

  “Either way, I’m about to take her out again and then hop in the shower. Will you be back in time for breakfast?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you would meet me in town for breakfast.”

  “Really?” He sounded surprised.

  “I’m sure my mother and aunts will be overbearing with the wedding preparations, and I need to focus on our witch issue. Besides, before breakfast I thought we might interview Masterson.”

  There was silence on the other end of the call so long I thought I might’ve lost him. “Landon?”

  “I’m here,” he managed, although he didn’t sound thrilled. “We can’t interview Masterson without going through his attorney. I told you he called Steve and arranged for special treatment. We’ve been playing phone tag with his lawyer ever since. I’m pretty sure he’s avoiding our calls.”

  I
frowned. I had forgotten that little detail. “Okay, that applies to you and Chief Terry. It doesn’t apply to me. We’ll adjust our breakfast plans. I’ll head to Masterson’s place and meet you at the diner when I’m finished.”

  Landon balked. “I don’t like that idea, Bay. What if he’s our murderer?”

  “Then I’ll make sure he’s well aware that you know where I am. I’ll drop that in the conversation right away. He would have to be an idiot to trust me. Besides ... I don’t think he’s our guilty party. We’re looking for a witch.”

  “I hate to be the one chastising you for being sexist, but men can be witches ... or warlocks ... or whatever a male witch is. You pointed that out one day when you claimed I was being sexist.”

  I hated that he had a point. “True. I don’t think it’s him, though. Why would he kill Adam?”

  “Because he wanted Lorna for himself.”

  “Except by all accounts, Lorna and Adam were going to divorce in two years. Masterson seems to have a wandering eye. I don’t think he’s putting you guys off because he’s guilty. I think he’s putting you off to protect his reputation.

  “My guess is that he’s not in love with Lorna,” I continued. “He was with two witches at the festival the other day – the one with the weird Wizard of Oz name and another one I didn’t recognize – and he was looking down their shirts. That’s not a man in love.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Bay, but even men in love can be pigs.”

  “Are you saying you look down other women’s shirts?”

  “Of course not. I’m the sort of guy who only looks down one woman’s shirt. That happens to be you ... and we’re both happy with that scenario. Other guys don’t have the same fidelity. Besides, you said yourself that you didn’t question Lorna about her relationship with Masterson because you felt uncomfortable. Maybe it’s not all that serious.”

  Ah, crap. He had another point. “I guess that’s fair. I still don’t think he’s our guy.”

  “But you think Lorna is our gal.”

  “It makes sense,” I admitted. “Her mother was reportedly a witch who died under mysterious circumstances. Her sister disappeared, and supposedly the mother preferred the sister. We saw the birds circling Lorna.”