Witchin' Around the Clock

by Amanda M. Lee

  “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.”

  “I can hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

  “But I’m not sure my gut believes Lorna is guilty,” I admitted. “I need more information. Masterson is the logical next step.”

  “I don’t know that I like you going there alone. Maybe you can question him and I’ll sit outside.”

  “You’ve been warned to stay away,” I reminded him. “If you go there you could be risking a formal reprimand at work.”

  “Maybe I don’t care.”

  “You care.” We both knew that to be true. “You just got that promotion so you could move in with me. What if your boss changes his mind because of this and tries to make you move? Then we’re going to be in trouble.”

  “Then I’ll quit.”

  I snorted. “You love that job.”

  “I love you more.”

  “It’s far more likely that we’ll do what you originally suggested and find a place to rent between the two locations. That will put off your plans to develop the campground property, because that’s too far to commute daily.”

  He let loose a resigned sigh and I knew I had him. “Fine. I’ll be at the diner. Make sure he knows I’m aware of where you are. If he lays a hand on you ... .”

  “You do know that I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, right?”

  “I do. We’re a unit, though. It’s my job to beat up anyone who threatens you.”

  “Fair enough. At breakfast, we can talk about this looking down women’s shirts thing. It sounds fascinating.”

  “Ugh. I just don’t know when to keep my mouth shut.”

  “Oh, you’re officially part of the family. That’s a common problem with Winchesters.”

  “I’ve noticed. Don’t spend too much time at Masterson’s house. Ask your questions and get out. I don’t know that I trust him.”

  That made two of us.

  THISTLE VOLUNTEERED TO accompany me to Masterson’s house, but I insisted she stay with Clove. Our cousin was bound to be a bundle of nerves when she woke — it was her wedding day, after all, and she’d been dreaming about it for years — and it would’ve been wrong to leave her to her own devic
es.

  Thistle being Thistle was suspicious, of course, but could hardly argue. She was still griping about my escape an hour later when I slipped out the front door, Clove still snoozing.

  Masterson’s house was on the east side of town. It wasn’t the ritziest section of Hemlock Cove, but it was hardly rundown. All the homes had perfectly manicured lawns and up-to-date siding. There was no garbage littering the grassy green expanses — an edict strictly enforced because of the importance of tourism — and all the vehicles parked in the driveways and on the streets were relatively new.

  I parked in front of the house, making sure my car was visible, and then sprang up the front walk. There was no sense delaying this interview. I should’ve tracked him down and cornered him days ago.

  I knocked twice and waited for someone to answer. Masterson lived alone — at least to my knowledge — and I doubted that Lorna was feeling up to overnight visits. At the very least, that would’ve looked bad to anyone who witnessed them engaging in a tryst so soon after Adam’s death. That didn’t mean Masterson didn’t have another woman on the side, but I was willing to bet he was trying to lay low these days.

  After another round of knocking I shifted my gaze to the driveway. His Range Rover was parked in front of the garage door. It was always possible he’d looked through the peephole and decided not to answer when he realized it was me. That didn’t mean I was going to let him get away without grilling him.

  I cut around the side of the house. I figured if I could catch his eye in a window he would have no choice but to at least shut me down to my face. When I reached the back of the house, I had to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun to see inside the sliding glass doors.

  What I found there took my breath away.

  Masterson was dead. I didn’t have to break into the house to confirm that. He was sitting in a chair at the end of the rectangular table, his sightless eyes focused on me. Or, well, they would be focused on me if they were still in the sockets. They were missing, as if pecked out, and there were feathers from one end of the kitchen to the other.

  He appeared to have a plate in front of him, what looked like a steak and potatoes on display. He hadn’t eaten much before it happened because there was plenty left. Blood ran down his cheeks and his mouth was opened in a silent scream.

  I fumbled for my phone and almost dropped it before recovering. My hands were still shaking when I found Landon’s name on my contact list. He answered on the first ring.

  “Did you change your mind about interviewing Masterson?”

  The first time I tried to speak, nothing came out. The second, my voice was shrill. “I need you to come over here.”

  All traces of mirth left Landon’s voice. “What is it, Bay?”

  “It’s Masterson. He’s dead and ... it’s not good. I need you to come here right now. I ... need ... you ... .”

  “I’m coming, baby.” There was strength in his tone as he reassured me. “Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.”

  CHIEF TERRY WAS THE FIRST to arrive. Landon had called him. He found me sitting on the back patio staring at my shoes.

  “Are you okay?” He was the picture of concern as he closed in on me.

  I nodded.

  “Bay, look at me.” His voice was gentle, as was the finger he placed at the bottom of my chin to tilt it up. “What happened?”

  “I came to interview him,” I replied woodenly.

  “I know that. Landon called.”

  “He didn’t answer the door.”

  “So you broke in?”

  I sensed a lecture in my future and immediately started shaking my head. “I didn’t break in. I didn’t have to.” I pointed toward the sliding glass doors. “He’s kind of hard to miss.”

  Chief Terry kept his gaze on me for an extended moment and then looked in that direction, viciously swearing under his breath when he saw Masterson’s body. “Well, that’s just great.”

  I swallowed hard. “I haven’t been inside. I didn’t touch anything. You don’t have to call me an idiot again.”

  He cast me a sidelong look. “You’re not an idiot and I’m sorry if what I said after the fire hurt your feelings. You do occasionally do idiotic things, but you’re a good girl for the most part. You’re smart, too.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I still kind of want to shake you.”

  “I’m sure Landon will feel the same way when he gets here.”

  As if on cue, Landon appeared on this side of the hedge. He didn’t even glance at Chief Terry before rushing to me. He dropped to his knees and gently pushed my hair out of my face. “Tell me you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.” I felt stronger now. The initial vision of the body had shaken me, but I was starting to come back to reality. “I just ... it’s bad.”

  “I’m sure it is.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and then turned to join Chief Terry. “Well ... holy bird feathers. That is ... really gross.”

  Chief Terry’s stare was withering. “Is that your professional law enforcement opinion?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I hate to say it, but I agree with you.”

  “Do we think birds actually killed him?” Landon started for the door, slipping on a pair of rubber gloves as he went. “I mean ... that can’t be the best way to go.”

  “I would say that’s the absolute worst way to go,” Chief Terry agreed.

  “I still think sharks would be worse,” I muttered.

  Landon shot me a small smile, but it was muted. He was already on the case. “We need to get in there.”

  “I’ve already called the medical examiner,” Chief Terry volunteered. “Let’s take a look at what we’ve got first.”

  I remained where I was. They didn’t need me mucking up the scene. Besides, I’d already seen everything I needed to see. After twenty minutes, they returned.

  “The only marks on his body are from where his eyes were plucked out,” Chief Terry explained. “I don’t know if that’s enough to kill a man. I mean ... if you believe horror movies, it’s not.”

  “The medical examiner should be able to tell us,” Landon noted.

  “I don’t think it was the eyes,” I supplied.

  “What do you think it was?” Landon looked genuinely curious. “It doesn’t matter if you’re right or wrong, just give me your best guess.”

  “I think it was a ritual. There was blood on his face. I’m willing to bet not much is found in his body.”

  “You think whoever did this took his blood?” Chief Terry was horrified. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “I don’t either,” I admitted. “The thing is ... it makes sense. What happened to Adam was a brutal attack. Whoever killed him is feeling emboldened now. If he or she — and I’m leaning toward a she — is collecting blood, it has to be for a powerful spell.”

  “How do we find out?” Landon asked.

  “I can think of only one way ... and you’re not going to like it. Neither of you.”

  “Lay it on me all the same,” Chief Terry instructed. “If you have a way to find answers, I want to hear it. We’re running out of time before Clove’s wedding. I want this handled before she walks down that aisle.”

  He wasn’t the only one.

  Twenty-Four

  The medical examiner, Dan Stevens, was prompt. He seemed as stymied by the scene as the rest of us.

  “Did you find birds inside the house?” he asked, glancing around.

  Chief Terry and Landon allowed me into the house as long as I promised to touch nothing, remain behind them and not draw attention to myself. I didn’t want to get close to the body, so I was fine with that. Still, the second I walked through the sliding glass door I could feel the malevolent energy flowing through the room. The hate associated with it was staggering.

  “There were no birds when we arrived,” Chief Terry replied.

  “What’s she doing here?” Stevens inclined his head in my direction. “Is she a
suspect?”

  “No, she’s not a suspect.” Landon made a face. “She was here to interview Masterson. When he didn’t answer the door, she walked to the back thinking he might be enjoying his coffee on the patio or something. That’s when she saw him through the window.”

  As far as lies go, it was relatively smooth.

  “What were you interviewing him about?”

  “None of your business,” Chief Terry answered for me. “She’s not a suspect. When do you place the time of death?”

  “I’m guessing sometime last night, probably around seven or eight o’clock.”

  “That would make sense since he died on top of his dinner,” Landon mused. “Did you find anything but feathers? A dead bird anywhere?”

  Stevens shook his head. “No, and I’m baffled.” He focused on me. “Were the doors open when you arrived?”

  “No. I wasn’t even sure what I was seeing at first. The door was definitely shut.”

  “So how did the birds get inside?” Landon mused, more to himself than any of us.

  That didn’t stop Stevens from answering. “I figure that’s your responsibility to answer,” he said. “I’m just here to answer any questions you might have about the body.”

  “Okay, then answer a question,” Chief Terry prodded. “Did losing his eyes kill him?”

  “It’s unlikely.” Stevens lowered himself to stare at the body from below. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Birds are scavengers for the most part. I’ve seen bodies that birds have fed on, but all of that damage was done post-mortem. This is ... something else entirely.”

  That was putting it mildly.

  “Would just losing the eyes be enough to kill him?” Chief Terry pressed.

  “It shouldn’t. It would have been horribly painful, but it shouldn’t have killed him. What confuses me more is that there are no other marks on his body. If a bird attacks, would you just sit there and take it? He has no defensive wounds, no scratches ... so why was he just sitting there?”