[A Wicked Witches of the Midwest 10.0] Murder Most Witchy

by Amanda M. Lee

  My face flushed with color, my cheeks burning, and I grappled to keep from listing to the side as Aunt Tillie walked out of the barn and joined me.

  “Well, this was a bust,” she announced. “He wants more than I’m willing to pay, and he accused me of trying to rip him off when I offered him a lot less than he was asking. Can you believe that?”

  There was a lot about this situation I couldn’t wrap my head around. “I … um … .”

  “He’s a real idiot if he thinks I’m going to pay what he’s asking,” Aunt Tillie continued, apparently not noticing my discomfort. “He must think I’m new at this.”

  The words were enough to snap me back to reality. I grabbed her wrist, digging my fingernails into the soft flesh there. “We have to go, and we have to go right now. I don’t want to hear one word of argument. Do you understand?”

  Three

  “What’s your deal?”

  Aunt Tillie looked nothing short of irritated as she glanced around.

  “We have to leave right now,” I stupidly repeated. I felt like a complete and total idiot – and not for the first time today – but I could think only of escape. I couldn’t risk interacting with Landon. Things would completely fall apart if we came face to face.

  “But … why?” Aunt Tillie knew something had happened, but she couldn’t figure out what. “I haven’t even gotten any food yet. We also haven’t checked out the farmer’s market.”

  “I’ll take you to another farmer’s market.”

  As if scenting blood in the water, Aunt Tillie circled like the shark in Jaws. She was about to gnaw my leg off, and I didn’t have so much as a spear-gun to hold her off. “Why go to another farmer’s market when this one is right here?”

  “Because … .” Because why? I couldn’t point out Landon, after all. She would insist on talking to him, and that wouldn’t go well for anybody.

  “Oh, hey, there’s Landon.”

  She said it in a manner that indicated she was only mildly interested, but I could sense the shift in her demeanor. “Aunt Tillie … .”

  “What’s he doing with that blonde?”

  That was a very good question. I didn’t want to know the answer. I had to get away. “We need to leave right now.”

  “Screw that.” Aunt Tillie slapped my hand away. “I want to talk to him. He doesn’t have time to visit you, but he can hang out with her? That chick’s hair color came from a bottle. At least you’re the real deal.”

  I couldn’t help being flattered that Aunt Tillie would say something like that, yet I remained terrified of her intentions. I grabbed her arm, desperate to keep her from drawing attention to us. “Aunt Tillie, he’s undercover.”

  “Oh, really? I never would’ve guessed that,” she drawled, rolling her eyes. “Of course he’s undercover. The boy can’t carry off leather without looking like the Fonz. I’m not an idiot.”

  She didn’t consider herself an idiot, but I certainly felt like one. “We need to go.”

  Aunt Tillie blinked several times, absorbing the statement, and then shook her head. “We have just as much of a right to be here as he does.”

  “Yes, but he’s clearly with those … people … for a reason,” I gritted out. “If we go up to him and act as if we know him we’ll ruin his case.”

  The notion momentarily caused Aunt Tillie’s eyes to fill with evil light. “That sounds fun.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I gripped her wrist tighter. “He’s been working hard for three weeks. You are not going to go over there and ruin it for him simply because you’re in the mood to be a pain.”

  “Did I say I was going to ruin it for him?”

  “No, but … .”

  “Did I say I wanted the bad guys to get away with whatever it is he’s investigating?”

  “No, but … .”

  “Do you have any faith in me at all?”

  That was a loaded question. The way Aunt Tillie innocently batted her eyelashes made me believe she had mayhem on the brain. The woman almost always has mischief in mind.

  “We’re leaving.” I kept my tone firm but undemanding. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive.”

  Aunt Tillie snorted. She acted as if I suggested she join the circus rather than let me take control of her truck. “That’s never going to happen. I’m driving.”

  “Fine. You can drive,” I hissed. “But we need to leave right now.”

  “Okay, but I clearly didn’t pass on my sense of whimsical fun to you, and that’s a crying shame.” Aunt Tillie fell into step next to me. I couldn’t hide my relief as I slowly let go of her wrist. I didn’t risk glancing at Landon again, instead staring at my feet to make sure I didn’t inadvertently trip.

  “Of course, I also apparently raised you to be a sucker, huh?” My reflexes were delayed as I realized what she was doing. Aunt Tillie hopped out of my reach and took a step toward the biker group. “I’m feeling a desperate need to wander around a corn maze. How about you?”

  I felt a desperate need to find a hole in the ground to hide in, but that didn’t look to be an option. “Aunt Tillie,” I hissed, hoping I could stop her forward momentum with the mere power of my mind. “Come back here right now.”

  Aunt Tillie pretended she didn’t hear me, her gaze intent as it roamed over the handful of bikers.

  “Aunt Tillie!”

  It was too late. I could either hide like a coward next to the truck or follow my great-aunt and lie about her mental prowess in an attempt to save Landon’s case. I opted for the latter.

  “Oh, look what we have here. How cute is she?”

  The woman standing next to Landon – way too close for my comfort level, mind you – brightened when she saw Aunt Tillie approaching. I squared my shoulders, licking my lips as my mind zipped from one crazy lie to another. I needed to come up with something quick to head off whatever Aunt Tillie had in her mind to say.

  “She’s definitely cute.” Landon uttered the words in a congenial manner, his eyes locked with mine instead of focusing on Aunt Tillie. I kept my face impassive as I increased my pace. “Are you here for the corn maze?”

  “I do love a good corn maze,” Aunt Tillie replied, her gaze bouncing between the rough bearded faces. Landon hadn’t shaved in what looked to be weeks. I couldn’t ever remember seeing him so scraggly. It wasn’t a turn on. “I came to look at a plow, but the maze looks to be a nice diversion.”

  “A plow?” The man standing to Landon’s left grinned as he took in Aunt Tillie’s cargo pants and combat boots. “You came here for a plow?”

  Aunt Tillie nodded without hesitation. “I like to plow things. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Skippy?”

  Instead of reacting out of anger, the man merely smiled as he raised his eyebrows in Landon’s direction. “Did you hear that, Landon? She thinks I like to plow things.”

  “Well, she’s not wrong.” Landon’s tone reflected easy camaraderie. I knew him well enough to recognize the stiff set of his shoulders, though. “You do love a fresh field to plow.”

  Oh, well, that was delightful. “You’ll have to excuse my aunt,” I forced out, grabbing Aunt Tillie’s shoulder as I caught up. “She tends to get distracted, and once she saw the corn maze I couldn’t get her to turn around.”

  “Yes, well, she’s old.” The woman grinned as she leered at Aunt Tillie. “Did you get a day pass from the home today? Is your niece taking you on an outing? That sounds nice.”

  Aunt Tillie stilled, the woman’s tone clearly agitating her. “And where is your mother? I’m doubtful you can cross the road without her help, so I’m certain she must be near.”

  The woman’s smile slipped. “I … excuse me?”

  “It’s not a big deal, Becky,” Landon offered, resting against a hay bale wall. “Don’t let it get to you.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. She insulted me.” The blonde – apparently her name was Becky – turned her glare to me instead of focusing on Aunt Tillie. “You should keep your aunt i
n check.”

  Despite my determination to grab Aunt Tillie and run, to keep Landon’s case out of danger, I couldn’t tamp down my agitation. “I’ll take that under advisement.” I yanked on Aunt Tillie’s shoulder. “Come on. You’ve had your fun. I’ll take you to another farmer’s market.”

  “I don’t want to go to another farmer’s market,” Aunt Tillie shot back, narrowing her eyes. She clearly disliked Becky. The feeling was mutual. “I want to check out the corn maze.”

  “No, you don’t,” I countered. “You came to check out a plow. You didn’t buy a plow. Let’s go home.”

  “I don’t want to go home,” Aunt Tillie argued. “Home is boring. It’s full of whiny people feeling sorry for themselves.” Her weighted gaze landed on me and I had to press my eyes shut to maintain control of my emotions. “If I have to hear one more complaint about how your life sucks I’m going to kill myself.”

  That sounded like a viable option right now. “I’ll buy you hot chocolate and a doughnut back in Hemlock Cove if you leave with me right now.” I wasn’t above a good bribe, and that’s all I could think of in the moment.

  “Oh, now, don’t be hasty.” The man on Landon’s other side gave me an appraising look as his eyes wandered up and down my body, causing me to clutch my hoodie tighter in the face of his predatory gaze. “What’s your hurry, sweetheart? There’s no need for you to run off.”

  “Oh, well … .”

  The man cut me off. “My friend here is busy with his girlfriend, but I’m open for offers.” My stomach twisted when he inclined his head in Landon and Becky’s direction. “I think you should make me an offer.”

  Landon shifted from one foot to the other although his expression remained flat. “Doug, there’s really no need to mess with her.”

  Doug waved off Landon’s concern. “I’m not messing with her. I wouldn’t mind if she wanted to mess with me, though.”

  “I wouldn’t take him up on that offer,” Aunt Tillie suggested. “He looks like he has lice.”

  She wasn’t wrong. Doug’s gray hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed in days. For that matter, Landon didn’t look much better. “Aunt Tillie, we should really be going.” I was starting to feel desperate. If I wasn’t careful I’d burst into tears and make things that much worse. “We need to go home.”

  “You should listen to your niece,” Becky suggested pointedly. “You’re starting to bother me.”

  Aunt Tillie was never one to bow down to threats, even weak ones like Becky’s proffered. “At least Doug here only has lice. I’m pretty sure you have crabs, Becky.” She flicked her dangerous eyes to Landon. “You should watch out for creepy-crawly things when you climb into bed with her.”

  It took me a second to realize Aunt Tillie was talking to Landon. He met her steely gaze with a dark one of his own. I could practically see his mind working as he stared her down.

  “Aunt Tillie, let’s go,” I urged, my voice cracking. I hated myself for the weakness, and steeled myself to gain control of my emotions. “There’s nothing for us here. You said it yourself. You don’t want the plow.”

  Aunt Tillie shifted her eyes to me, her expression unreadable. “What about the bookshelf? You loved the bookshelf.”

  “That was before. I … it doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, I’m guessing you’re not interested in uprooting your life for a man any longer, are you?” Despite the surreal situation, Aunt Tillie shook her head. “Okay, we can go.”

  “Wait.” The word escaped Landon’s mouth as we moved to turn, catching both of us off guard. Landon looked equally surprised to find he’d said something when I leveled my gaze on him.

  “What do you want them to wait for?” Becky asked, alleviating the weight of the world as it formed into a ball and landed in the pit of my stomach. “It’s not as if they’re the ones we’re waiting for.”

  Oh, so they were waiting for someone. The information didn’t mean much to me. In fact, the simple realization that Landon was doing exactly the same thing he did a year ago – a new blonde at his side – made me sick to my stomach.

  “No, we’re definitely not the ones you’re waiting for.” I tugged on Aunt Tillie’s arm. “We should go. I have … things to do.”

  Aunt Tillie pursed her lips as her gaze bounced between Becky, Landon and me. “Okay. But you need to buy me hot chocolate and a doughnut. You promised.”

  “Yeah, you promised,” Becky taunted, haughty.

  “I did promise.” I nodded in silent thanks to Aunt Tillie. Even though I was annoyed – maybe even a little hurt – I didn’t want all of Landon’s hard work to be in vain. This was simply a misunderstanding, after all. I always overreacted. This was no different. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway. “I have things to do.”

  Aunt Tillie almost looked sympathetic as she fell into step next to me. That made matters worse. “Do you want to help me with curses when we get home?”

  I could feel Landon’s eyes on my back as we made the long, slow trek back to the truck. “Who are you going to curse?” I didn’t care that Landon’s new “friends” heard us. They would think we were crazy, but I was beyond worrying about something like that.

  “I have an entire list of people I want to curse,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Three just hopped to the top of my list.”

  I could guess who the three were. “Maybe. I might just want to drink myself into a stupor instead.”

  “That sounds like a solid plan, too.”

  I waited on the passenger side of the truck as Aunt Tillie climbed into the driver’s seat before leaning across to unlock the door for me. I risked a final glance over my shoulder, my heart rolling at Landon’s conflicted gaze as he stared after me. He was caught. We both knew it. Even if he wanted to follow me – which I hoped he did – he couldn’t do it without risking his cover.

  “Come on,” Aunt Tillie prodded, drawing my eyes to her. “He can’t do anything right now.”

  “I know.” I forced a smile as I climbed into the passenger seat. “That will teach me to wish for something, huh?”

  Aunt Tillie was understandably puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been wishing to see him for three straight weeks,” I replied. “I finally got to see him, and now I feel worse than I did before.”

  Aunt Tillie furrowed her brow. “I don’t want to make excuses for his attitude, but he could hardly break cover. I shouldn’t have gone over there. It wasn’t fair to you. I thought it would be fun to mess with him. Breaking your heart was a byproduct I didn’t see coming, although I should have.”

  The admission was enough to make me feel better, though only marginally. “It doesn’t matter.” I forced a smile even though my insides felt as if they were being shredded. “He’s working. You said it yourself. There’s nothing he can do.”

  “No, there’s not.” Aunt Tillie stuck the key in the ignition. “If it’s any consolation, he looks as if he’s ready to cry.”

  “That’s some consolation.”

  Aunt Tillie snorted. “You still want to curse him, don’t you?”

  “I was thinking we could make any woman he comes in contact with smell like sauerkraut. He hates sauerkraut.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I … .” I broke off as I glanced back at Landon one more time. He remained looking in our direction, even though his head was bent as he listened to Becky chatter in his ear. “Let’s make sure the sauerkraut smells as if it spoiled three weeks ago, just to be on the safe side – and maybe curse him to smell badly, too.”

  “Now you’re thinking.”

  I was definitely thinking. I was thinking that I wanted to crawl into bed, tune out the world and find out this had been a nightmare. Instead, I decided to embrace Aunt Tillie’s plan.

  “What else stinks?”

  “Rotten eggs.”

  “Now you’re thinking! Let’s add that to the sauerkraut smell.”

  Aunt Tillie beamed. “I’ve created a monster …
and I couldn’t be more proud.”

  Four

  Four days later my nerves were no longer frazzled. I was simply numb.

  The day I saw Landon at the corn maze I sat next to my cell phone the entire night, expecting him to call, even willing him to call at times. He never called. I told myself it was because he couldn’t get away from his friends – who were very obviously criminals and quite possibly dangerous – and it was more important for him to be safe than to stroke my ego.

  I somehow made it through the first night on faith alone. When he still didn’t call by the following night I let rage take over and took every photograph I had of us and shoved them into a drawer so I wouldn’t have to look at them.

  By the third day I was manic, convinced he’d been hurt on the job and his boss was keeping it from me. The only reason I didn’t call his boss and demand answers is because Thistle stole my phone and wouldn’t allow me to do it.

  By the fourth day, today, I was simply dead inside. I told myself that I didn’t care, that he probably wouldn’t even bother to call and break up with me because he figured it was already done. Everyone in the family said I was acting crazy and dramatic – which was rich coming from them, because I’m the calm one in the family – and then I climbed into myself and decided to be a martyr.

  No, I can admit it. I fancied myself the most put-upon woman in the world as I walked around Hemlock Cove, going through the motions of putting together this week’s edition of The Whistler, the weekly newspaper for which I was editor and sole reporter. It didn’t take a lot of effort, and when I was finished I trudged to Hypnotic, the store Thistle and our cousin Clove ran, where I proceeded to throw myself on the couch and sigh dramatically.

  Clove managed to muster a sympathetic half-smile, but Thistle simply looked annoyed.

  “Knock it off,” Thistle ordered, irate. “You’re being pathetic. No one likes a pathetic woman, especially a man.”