Witchin' Around the Clock

by Amanda M. Lee

  “You do a great job of winging it,” he countered. “You’re doing the best you can. No one else in the family has this power. What are you supposed to do? Last time I heard there’s not a necromancy school ... and that would be one creepy school with all the ghosts running around. Speaking of losing your appetite for bacon.”

  Even when I wanted to yell at him he was adorable. He had a charm streak wider than a galaxy. He also was loyal and determined to keep me from feeling sorry for myself. What wasn’t to love about that?

  “A bunch of witches are descending on the town today,” I reminded him. “Hazel knows a lot. She might be able to help me with this.”

  Intrigue lit his features. “Do you really think she can help?”

  “It can’t hurt to feel her out. Heck, even if she can’t help there’s a chance some of the other witches can. They’re due to arrive on a bus within the hour. I mean ... I won’t hop on them the second they arrive, but I’ll definitely poke around to see if enlisting them is an option.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. “In fact, of all the ideas you’ve had the last two days, that’s my favorite. It’s so much better than that, ‘Let’s run into a burning building.’”

  My lips curved down. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

  “Not until every hint of a bad dream that involves you dying in a fire disappears.”

  “Did you have one last night?”

  He nodded. “I can’t stop myself from being afraid for you, Bay. I know better than pushing you on certain things, though. We’ll deal with this — and I’m talking all of this, from both our ends — together. That’s what we do.”

  “That’s what we do.” I gave him a hug, putting as much effort as I could muster into it. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He rested his cheek on top of my forehead. “See, this isn’t so bad.”

  The simple statement was enough to jinx us as a low whir caused me to jerk my head just in time to see Aunt Tillie cruising down the sidewalk on her scooter. Today she was dressed in a pair of plain black leggings, something so staid I couldn’t imagine her picking them out. She also wore her combat helmet and had a whistle around her neck, but those items were part of her regular ensemble.

  “Stop fornicating in the middle of the street,” she barked as she zipped by.

  “Where are you going?” Landon called out.

  She didn’t answer because she was already gone. And, to make matters worse, from the rear I saw her leggings weren’t bare of a pattern after all.

  “Is that a pair of ... lips?” Landon, horrified, asked after a moment.

  I nodded grimly. “Yup. Right on the keister. I believe the message is obvious.”

  “She’s going to be difficult because of this Hazel woman, isn’t she?”

  “Oh, you have no idea.”

  CONVINCED THAT I was no longer drowning in melancholy, Landon returned to Chief Terry, leaving me to my work. I let myself into The Whistler and headed straight to my office. There, I wasn’t surprised to find Viola, the resident ghost, waiting expectantly. She peppered me with questions as I handled a bevy of busywork tasks and then lost interest. She’d wandered back into the lobby by the time I remembered she was still in the building, and that only happened because she let out a few excited yips.

  “What now?” I asked as I plodded out of my office. Viola was the excitable sort and there were times she made noises simply because she saw a dog. She couldn’t help herself.

  “Look.” She excitedly gestured out the front window.

  “What is it?”

  “Look.” When I didn’t immediately rush to join her, she gave me an impatient stare. “Look.”

  I heaved out a sigh and moved to her side, my eyes going wide. “Oh, my ... .”

  The witches had arrived. There were too many to stay at The Overlook, so some had registered at other inns. They’d all joined together to ride the bus into town, and it was something to behold.

  “The Samhain Train,” I read aloud from the side advertisement panel. “Well ... that’s new.”

  “It’s inspired is what it is.” Viola’s eyes danced with excitement. “I mean ... seriously. Look at that thing. It’s amazing.”

  I could think of a few other words to describe it. “It’s purple.”

  “But an awesome purple.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. Out of sheer curiosity I tried to keep track of the number of witches exiting the bus. I lost count after a bit, but it was clear we were dealing with more than one-hundred women. Apparently the coven was bigger than I remembered ... or it had somehow grown over the years.

  “Who is that?” Viola looked in awe as she extended a finger and pointed toward a specific woman. She wore a purple pantsuit, a fancy hat that would’ve been more at home at the Kentucky Derby, and she clutched what looked to be an expensive bag with feathers in her right hand.

  It had been years since I saw her, but I recognized Hazel right away. She hadn’t aged a day. “That’s the woman who is going to turn Aunt Tillie into a nut the next few days.”

  “That’s not Margaret.”

  I chuckled. “That’s the other woman who is going to turn Aunt Tillie into a nut,” I corrected. “Her name is Hazel.”

  “And Tillie doesn’t like her?” Before her death, Viola and my great-aunt had something of a tempestuous relationship. Viola aligned herself with Mrs. Little, thus proving herself an enemy of the witch state in Aunt Tillie’s mind. After her death, Viola decided to mess with both women ... something I often found amusing. That wasn’t the case today.

  “Aunt Tillie and Hazel have differences of opinion when it comes to policy,” I corrected. “It’s not as if they hate each other.” Even as the words escaped I knew they weren’t quite true. “It’s not as if they hate each other a lot,” I clarified.

  Viola snickered. “I get it. Tillie is difficult.”

  “She’s not altogether wrong on this one,” I supplied. “I don’t know if I think a witch council is a good idea. I do know that I don’t like the idea of anyone telling us what we can and can’t do. Hazel is just as much of a control freak as Aunt Tillie, maybe worse in some ways.”

  “That’s a frightening thought.”

  “You have no idea.”

  I TRIED TO RETURN TO MY WORK, but it didn’t go well. Once I knew the other witches were in town they were all I could think about. That meant it was time to shunt my work to the side and head outside for a little fun.

  I was already downtown, a cup of gourmet coffee in hand, before I realized what I was doing. I sat on the bench in front of the police station to watch the shenanigans. That’s where Landon found me a few minutes later.

  “May I ask what you’re doing out here?” he asked, tipping his head to his side. “Besides getting loaded up on caffeine, that is.”

  “Just watching the show.” I smirked when two women squealed in delight at the sight of Hypnotic and immediately headed for the shop. “I find the witches fascinating.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Landon was clearly dubious. “They don’t look like witches to me. They look like wannabes.”

  “And what do real witches look like? If you think they all look like me, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “Oh, I know they don’t all look like you. My head would implode if there were a hundred Bays in town. No, seriously. I would explode from all the beauty.”

  I cast him a sidelong look. “Was that your attempt at romance?”

  He turned sheepish. “Maybe a little.”

  “You should probably work on it.”

  “Yeah. I knew the second it came out that it was too much.”

  I patted his knee, sympathetic. “All you need is a little practice.” I turned my eyes back to the witches. “The one in the hat is Hazel.”

  He chuckled when he caught sight of her. “That’s somehow fitting, isn’t it? Look who’s riding her scooter around behind the othe
r queen witch.”

  I didn’t have to look to know he was referring to Aunt Tillie. Still, it wasn’t as if I could ignore the potential disaster. Sure enough, Aunt Tillie was deftly navigating her scooter between the throngs of witches, circling Hazel as she glared. If Hazel was aware of Aunt Tillie’s actions, she didn’t show it. Instead, she kept up a running commentary with several younger witches surrounding her.

  “I have to give her credit,” Landon said after a beat. “She knows exactly how to drive Aunt Tillie nuts. Pretending she doesn’t see the commotion is a surefire way to have Aunt Tillie popping her top by the end of the day.”

  “Oh, she won’t make it that long. If she makes it an hour without trying to run someone over with that scooter I’ll be stunned.”

  “Won’t that be fun?” He rubbed his hand over my neck. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I meant it. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m okay.”

  “Worry comes with the territory. I’m actually glad you showed up. Lorna is on her way to answer some questions. She’s bringing her daughter. Lorna insists we don’t question the children, which seems weird to me, and says she will call an attorney if we try.”

  I understood what he was getting at without him laying it out. “You want to see if I can talk to Dani.”

  “I’m not specifically asking you to do that because it would be unethical.”

  “You’re not exactly dissuading me either.”

  “You’re so smart.” He gave me a kiss and a wink and then stood, his attention immediately going back to Aunt Tillie, who was making rude honking noises to get people to move. “We should get her a bell.”

  “I can’t believe you’re encouraging this. She could kill someone.”

  He snorted. “It’s a kick scooter. The only one she’s in danger of hurting is herself. She’ll be fine.”

  I hoped that was true. For now, though, I had bigger things to worry about.

  Lorna and Dani arrived several minutes later. Lorna strode directly into the police station, not so much as giving me a sidelong glance. She appeared to be in her own world, her eyes red and puffy, her face devoid of makeup.

  Dani looked equally distressed. She remained outside the building, staring at the witches as they took over Main Street.

  “Interesting sight, huh?” I prodded, forcing a smile for the girl’s benefit. She was sixteen if I remembered correctly, but looked a little younger.

  “Oh, hey, Ms. Winchester.” Dani offered me a small wave. “I didn’t see you there.”

  I was offended at being called “Ms. Winchester.” Old people are referred to in that manner. I was far from old. “You can call me Bay.”

  “My mother says that’s not polite when talking to adults.”

  I bit back a sigh ... but just barely. “Sit down and watch the witches with me,” I instructed, patting the bench. “You’ve obviously had a rough night and should rest.”

  Dani didn’t put up any complaint. Instead she readily slid into the spot next to me and turned her eyes back to the show on the street. “What is Miss Tillie doing on that scooter?”

  “Messing with the other witches. That’s what she does.”

  “She looks like she’s having fun.”

  That was the truth. Aunt Tillie might’ve been a righteous pain in the behind for most of her life but she was almost always fun.

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” I offered, briefly wondering if I should refrain from bringing it up. Landon wanted me to get information, but I felt skeezy being underhanded in the attempt. Everything I knew about Dani suggested she was shy and well-behaved. I didn’t want to manipulate her.

  “Thank you.” Dani’s voice momentarily cracked. “I heard you tried to save him and almost died. I wanted to thank you for trying.”

  I felt bad for her. She was painfully polite even in grieving. “I liked your father,” I offered. “He was always really nice and he had a wicked sense of humor. He made people laugh all the time at the festivals.”

  “Yeah. He was a good dad.”

  “He was a good man,” I corrected. “He helped a lot of people in town, volunteering his time at various events. We’re really going to miss him.”

  “I don’t know that I would call him a good man.” Dani’s expression darkened, but she didn’t expound on the statement. That put me in the awkward position of having to prod her, and I wasn’t necessarily comfortable doing that.

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked finally.

  “He was cheating on my mom,” she replied simply, her gaze never leaving the witches. “Everyone knew about it. He pretended to be a good guy, but he wasn’t. He broke her heart ... and I can’t help wondering if this is karma.”

  Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I’d never known Adam to have a wandering eye. Still, Dani would know better. “I’ve never heard that rumor.”

  “It’s not a rumor. I heard my parents screaming at each other in the bedroom about it the other night. Mom says Dad betrayed her. He told her to stop whining, but he admitted to it.” Slowly, she tracked her eyes to me. “When you do bad things and other bad things happen to you in return, that’s karma, right?”

  She asked the question with such blank-eyed earnestness I felt put on the spot. “Some people consider that karma,” I replied finally.

  “Basically he got what he deserved.” She turned back to the cavorting witches. “That scooter looks fun. Maybe I should see if my mom will buy me one.”

  And just like that, Dani was done talking about her father ... and I had more questions than answers.

  Seven

  I sat with Dani until her mother exited the police station. I had a million questions, but no matter how I tried to direct the conversation back to the bomb she’d dropped about her father’s affair, Dani wasn’t volunteering more information. She wanted to talk about the witches and nothing else.

  Once Dani and her mother left, I headed for Hypnotic. It buzzed with activity — excited witches “oohing” and “aahing” over the assorted items for sale — so I wedged myself behind the counter to talk to Clove and Thistle without drawing too much attention.

  “So ... I just had an interesting conversation with Dani Harris,” I announced.

  “Oh, yeah?” Thistle slid her eyes to me. She was busy wrapping a stone mortar in tissue paper. “How is she handling her father’s death?”

  “Not in the way you might think. She says her parents were arguing earlier in the week because her father was having an affair.”

  Clove furrowed her brow. “Adam? That doesn’t sound like him. Are you sure she wasn’t confused? Grief can make people act out of sorts.”

  “It can,” I agreed. “She didn’t seem confused. She refused to give me more information after dropping the bomb. I don’t suppose you guys have any ideas on who he might’ve been having an affair with?”

  “I don’t think Adam was the type to have an affair,” Thistle replied, studying her handiwork. She was an artist at heart and even her wrapping job showed a bit of flair. “I’ve never seen him with anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “That’s what I’m asking.” I’d searched my memory for instances of seeing Adam with a woman who wasn’t his wife and come up empty. “I don’t know what to make of it. She was really flat when she delivered the news, as if it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t a big deal for her.”

  “She asked a few questions about karma.”

  “Really?” Thistle arched an eyebrow, intrigue washing over her features. “Well, that’s weird.”

  That’s exactly what I was thinking. “I know, right? I find the whole thing weird.”

  “You could ask Lorna,” Clove suggested. “She might own up to having marital issues.”

  I thought about Lorna’s demeanor when she passed me in front of the police station. “I don’t think Lorna is in the mood to answer questions right now. She has her hands full.”

  “If she was angry abou
t Adam having an affair she did a masterful job of covering for it yesterday,” Thistle noted. “I mean ... she was screaming and carrying on. If Mrs. Gunderson didn’t have a firm hold on her she would’ve raced into the flames to try to save him.”

  “She was beside herself,” I agreed.

  “That could’ve been an act,” Clove pointed out. “That could’ve been for your benefit ... and it obviously worked, because you guys ran into that building to try to save him, which was an absolutely moronic thing to do.”

  I murdered her with a dark glare. “Thank you so much for your opinion. It’s valued and appreciated.”

  Thistle snorted. “You took the words right out of my mouth. She’s been whining about being left behind all morning.”

  “You should be glad you were left behind.” I kept my voice low. “The paramedics were on us the second we left the building. You would’ve had to admit you were pregnant if you’d been there ... and you would’ve been in more danger than Thistle and me. Is that what you want?”

  “What I want is not to be cut out of things now that we’re living apart,” Clove replied primly. “Our lives are different. That doesn’t mean I want to be ignored. I’m having a baby, not dying. I want to be included in the adventures.”

  That seemed unlikely. “And how are you going to do that? Are you going to bring the baby with you when we’re breaking into stores ... or traipsing around the cemetery ... or throwing magic at whatever evil pops up at any given moment?”

  “If need be.”

  “What about when we’re looking for Bigfoot?” Thistle challenged. “Are you going to bring the baby on those excursions?”

  “Bigfoot isn’t real.” Clove said it with conviction but doubt clouded her eyes. “We won’t be looking for Bigfoot because he’s not real ... probably.”

  I smiled. Still, I understood what she was saying. We were creatures of habit. We didn’t embrace change all that well. “We have no intention of cutting you out. It’s just that your reality is a little different from ours right now. You can’t be involved with everything because it’s not safe for the baby.”