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

by Amanda M. Lee

  Landon shrugged. “Only twice. But Becky spent a lot of time here. She hung out with several of the girls who worked the sales counter.”

  I eyed him speculatively. “You seem to know a lot about Becky.”

  “Only because she wouldn’t stop talking about herself.” Landon pinned me with a hard gaze, slowing his pace. “Bay, if you need to talk about this, we should do it now. If you need me to reassure you … .”

  I shook my head to cut him off. “I don’t need that.”

  “Then why did you say it?”

  “Because it’s the Winchester way. Sometimes the snark overtakes me … like a smelling curse that leaves me flustered and reeking of bacon.”

  Landon’s smirk eased some of the tension building between my shoulder blades. “I can guarantee it’s better than smelling like garbage.”

  “Why do you keep saying that? We made it so you smelled like rotten sauerkraut and eggs. We didn’t just decide to make you smell like garbage. And, for the record, I told Aunt Tillie not to cast the spell, but she went against my wishes.”

  Landon snorted. “I think you knew she would do whatever she wanted despite what you told her. But that’s hardly important now. As for the rest, I recognized the sauerkraut, but I honestly thought you made me smell like garbage because you wanted me to feel like garbage.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned. “That would’ve made sense. You’re giving us far too much credit for forward thinking. We simply wanted you to smell, and those were the two smelliest things we could think of.”

  Landon shook his head as he shifted me so I was in front of him, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the various booths looking for someone specific. “Over there. That’s Cindy.”

  I followed his gaze, frowning when I caught sight of the buxom brunette. “And how well do you know her?”

  Landon let loose a weary sigh. “How long are we going to play this game?”

  “I don’t know. It hasn’t even been a day yet.”

  “It somehow feels longer.”

  “That’s because you’re intent on being a martyr.” I grinned as I dragged him forward. “Come on. She’s working next to that cool bookshelf. I freaking love that bookshelf.”

  Landon followed me to the bookshelf, smiling as he ran his free hand over the wood. “It’s really beautiful.”

  “It is. I considered getting it for the guesthouse, but … well … I don’t think I should be making any big purchases in case I get locked up for twenty to life.”

  Landon sobered. “I won’t let that happen, Bay.”

  “I know.” I believed him. “Let’s see what Cindy has to say, shall we? She probably won’t recognize you without the beard.”

  “I would prefer that.”

  Landon and I patiently waited while Cindy – she of the huge boobs and peak-a-boo bra that showed through her low-cut tank top – finished helping a customer. Cindy was blasé when first turning to us, but her gaze narrowed as recognition flashed over her face.

  “It’s … you.”

  “It’s me,” Landon agreed, keeping one hand firmly on my back as he flashed his badge with the other. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Cindy gaped at the badge, dumbfounded. “You’re with the FBI?”

  “I am.”

  “But … how?”

  “I don’t really have time to discuss my work habits,” Landon replied smoothly. “I need to ask a few questions about Becky.”

  “Oh.” Cindy nodded knowingly. “You arrested her, didn’t you? That’s why she missed our meet-up at the bar last night. I thought maybe she was hooking up with you – she was determined to get you even though you were fairly clear that you weren’t interested. I didn’t bother calling her to find out why she missed bar night. For the record, I thought you were gay. I think it was the beard. Any-who … did you arrest her for drugs, prostitution or running over that guy with her car?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing and risked a glance at Landon. He seemed neither surprised nor worked up by Cindy’s nonstop chatter.

  “I didn’t arrest her, although I was mostly interested in the drugs,” Landon replied easily. “Thanks for the tip on the beard. I’ve found most everyone hates it, although I’m hoping not for the same reason.” He cast a weighted look in my direction, but I wisely remained quiet. “As for why Becky didn’t make your chick date, she’s dead. Someone stabbed her to death last night.”

  Cindy stilled. “Did you kill her?”

  “No, but I would’ve happily done it, given certain circumstances,” Landon replied. “She died in Hemlock Cove. Do you know why she would’ve been over there?”

  “Hemlock Cove?” Cindy wrinkled her nose in concentration. “I never heard her mention Hemlock Cove. Most people think that place is crazy – you know, the folks over there pretend to be witches and stuff – so I don’t know why she would’ve been there.”

  “What about Doug?”

  “I’m not sure who that is,” Cindy admitted. “Is that the guy who was here with you the other day?”

  Landon nodded.

  “That’s the first and last time I’ve ever seen him,” Cindy supplied. “I can’t even remember Becky ever mentioning him. Of course, we weren’t good friends or nothing. I’m tight with her sister, but I hardly knew Becky.”

  I swallowed at mention of family. That hadn’t even entered my mind. Sure, I disliked Becky with the fire of a hundred curses, but I didn’t wish ill on the woman. Okay, I kind of wished she’d trip and accidentally lodge her head in a dirty toilet, but I didn’t want her to die. I certainly didn’t want her family to go through something so terrible.

  “Does she have a lot of family around here?” I asked.

  Cindy flicked her eyes to me. “Who are you?”

  “She’s with me,” Landon interjected. “Did Becky have a lot of family around here?”

  “Not as far as I know,” Cindy replied, quickly losing interest in me as she flashed a flirty smile for Landon’s benefit. “You know, you’re a lot hotter without the beard. You also don’t look gay. Do you … I don’t know … want to get a drink when I’m done with my shift?”

  “I’m spoken for.” Landon snapped his fingers to keep Cindy on task when her eyes darkened and floated in my direction. “Tell me about Becky’s family.”

  “Are you dating this one?” Cindy ignored his command. “She looks as if she likes it rough.”

  “Don’t worry about her,” Landon ordered. “Focus on me.”

  “I’m trying, but you’re standing so close to her I can’t help wondering where your hand is at.”

  “It’s on my butt,” I supplied.

  Landon hurriedly looked down, checking to see if his fingers had slipped when he wasn’t looking, and scowled. “Keep it up. This is all cutting into your massage time.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “So … Becky’s family? Who exactly is local?”

  Cindy shrugged, noncommittal. “I only know about her sister, Rhonda. She works at the Bayside Diner in Acme.”

  “I know that place.” Landon nodded as he moved his hand from my back to my neck and absently rubbed at the sore spot. “What about her mother? I thought I heard her complaining about having to meet her sister and mother for dinner.”

  “I don’t know her name, but she owns that bed and breakfast about four doors down from the Bayside Diner,” Cindy replied, her eyes latching on to Landon’s busy fingers. “Rhonda lives there, too. She works at the diner because it’s so close.”

  “Okay.” Landon forced a smile as he tugged me in front of him. “Thanks for your time.”

  “Wait.” Cindy narrowed her eyes. “Is this your girlfriend? She looks so … normal … except for the bruises on her neck.”

  “She’s my everything,” Landon replied. “And don’t believe everything you see. Sometimes people aren’t who they appear to be.”

  “I guess if anyone would know that, it would be you.”

  Lan
don pushed me toward the door as he slid a business card on the counter. “You’ve got that right. If you see or hear anything about Doug, give me a call. Don’t approach him yourself. He’s dangerous.”

  “Yeah, okay. I … good luck.”

  I waved goodbye, silently hoping that we wouldn’t need a lot of luck to get through this. I wasn’t sure how much longer mine would last.

  Twelve

  “How do you want to handle this?”

  Landon helped me down from the Explorer, dropping an impulsive kiss on my cheek as he tugged Aunt Tillie’s hoodie tighter around my waist.

  “I thought we would play it by ear.” Landon glanced at the beach-themed restaurant, his face unreadable. The parking lot was mostly empty – normal for this time of year – but that meant Rhonda Patterson might have more time to spend with us.

  “Are you considering going by another name?”

  Landon shifted his eyes to me, surprised. “Why would you ask that?”

  I shrugged. “Because it sounds as if Becky liked to talk about you, and Landon isn’t a very common name. Wait … did she know your real last name?”

  Landon slipped a strand of my hair behind my ear and shook his head. The wind close to the lake was fierce, sending my hair in a hundred different directions. “That’s not how it works. I kept my real first name because there’s less chance of screwing up, but you never use your real last name.”

  “Did you pick your new last name?”

  “I did.”

  “Ooh, I kind of want to guess what you picked.”

  Landon chuckled as he rested his hand on the small of my back and prodded me toward the restaurant. He made a face at the back of the hoodie – Aunt Tillie didn’t own very many normal clothing items, but I took the one with the witch that said “Croak and Haggard” because it was close to Halloween and wouldn’t stand out. He whispered something I didn’t quite catch as I strode toward the restaurant’s door.

  “Did you just say that I would never guess?” I asked.

  “I did.”

  Oh, well, that sounded like a challenge. “Bacon. Sir Landon Bacon.”

  Landon snorted as he held open the door so I could enter. “No.”

  “Aniston? You do think Jennifer Aniston is hot.”

  “I think you’re hotter.” Landon glanced at the “Please seat yourself” sign and directed me toward a table near the window.

  Now it was my turn to snort. “You think I’m hotter than Jennifer Aniston? I think you need to take a step back from the groveling because it’s starting to get a bit unbelievable.”

  “I said it and I meant it.” Landon shifted his eyes to the woman walking in our direction. She wore a simple black uniform and carried menus. While her hair was darker than her sister’s bottle blonde tresses, I could tell Landon recognized the woman’s face right away. She looked exactly like Becky. In fact, they could be twins. “Be careful about what you say.” He kept his voice low, but that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes.

  “I’m not a rookie.” I flashed a smile for the waitress’s benefit and let my gaze linger on her nametag for a moment before focusing on her face. The darker hair made her features much prettier. “Good afternoon.”

  “Good afternoon.” Rhonda beamed. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

  “That would be great,” I answered. “Is your iced tea sweetened or unsweetened?”

  “Unsweetened.”

  “I’ll have a large glass of that.”

  “Make it two.” Landon remained unnaturally still, going out of his way not to draw attention to himself.

  “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

  I waited until Rhonda disappeared to lift a challenging eyebrow. “Did you really think I was going to scream your name, hop to my feet and do a cartwheel in the middle of the room and then finish off with a little dance to make sure I really got her attention?”

  Landon shrugged, although his smirk was obvious. “I didn’t give it much thought. I’ve never seen you do a cartwheel, though. Can you really do one?”

  “I … .”

  “I’ve seen you do a little dance numerous times,” he continued. “I love your little dances.”

  “Yes, well, I have negative rhythm, and you’re a man in love,” I shot back. “You’re apparently blind to how stupid I look when I dance.”

  “I’m often blind drunk when you dance, so that’s a definite possibility,” Landon conceded. “I still think you’re adorable.”

  “Okay, you’re starting to lay it on a bit too thick,” I admonished. “I’ve forgiven you. There’s no reason to keep groveling.”

  “I’m nowhere near done groveling, but we’ll table that for the time being.” Landon rested his hand on top of mine, curling his fingers around the edge of my palm before shifting his attention to Rhonda. She worked behind the counter, chatting with the cook. “She doesn’t seem like a woman in mourning, does she?”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” I admitted. “Is there a possibility she doesn’t know?”

  “I … don’t know,” Landon hedged, flicking his eyes to me. “They should’ve made notification last night. Even if they waited a bit, it should’ve happened first thing this morning.”

  “Maybe they went to the bed and breakfast to tell the mother, but she wasn’t there,” I suggested.

  “Maybe.” Landon’s expression was thoughtful. “I don’t want to be the one to tell her.”

  “I don’t blame you. What do you want to do?”

  “Well … .” Landon licked his lips and flashed a flirty grin. “How would you feel about a night away from it all?”

  It took me a moment to realize what he was suggesting. “You want to stay at the bed and breakfast?”

  “It probably won’t be full,” Landon replied. “This area doesn’t have the Halloween traffic that Hemlock Cove does. We should be able to skate right in. It will allow us a chance to interact with the mother. She might spill information about Becky.”

  It was an interesting suggestion. “Yeah, but … we don’t have any clothes or luggage,” I pointed out. “Won’t the mother think it strange if we check in without luggage?”

  “Good point.” Landon’s grin was lazy as he leaned back in his chair. “Do you want to go shopping with me?”

  That had to be a trick question. “Are you buying?”

  “Whatever your heart desires.”

  “A pony?”

  Landon’s smile slipped. “You know how I feel about you and horses.”

  “Yes, you’re almost as thrilled by the notion as you are with the idea of me being the lone woman at a biker bar,” I drawled, causing his smile to return. “Well, it’s not as if we can stay at the guesthouse and sleep in our own bed yet, so there’s really no harm in staying here. We might as well try it.”

  “I’m going to get you home to our bed,” Landon promised, his smile slipping. “I promise.”

  “Until then, we’ve never been on vacation with one another,” I pointed out. “This could be fun. We’ll be undercover, right?”

  Landon nodded. “We will.”

  “Does that mean I can come up with our back stories?”

  “I’m almost afraid to give you that much power, but … why not. How bad could it possibly be?”

  Oh, he would regret jinxing himself like that. I could already feel it.

  “WHERE DO you want to start?” I scanned the thankfully slow Target store with a mixture of excitement and worry. “Should we get duffel bags or something?”

  “We’ll each get a small suitcase with rollers,” Landon countered, turning his attention to the women’s clothes. “We’ll tackle the store in order. You can pick out a few things to wear first … maybe get a new hoodie.”

  I followed his gaze. “I don’t need new clothes. I can wear these clothes tomorrow. I don’t want you wasting your money.”

  “I’m going to be reimbursed for all of this so there’s no harm in picking out a few things,�
� Landon said, pushing the cart as he kept his eyes on me. “You’re not getting stuck in the same clothes, so don’t bother being a martyr.”

  “You’re the martyr,” I muttered.

  “Perhaps we’re both martyrs.”

  Landon helped me pick out a pair of jeans and several plain shirts before stopping in front of the intimates section. “You’ll need underwear.”

  I’d already considered it, but it seemed a bit odd to be shopping for underwear in front of him. “I’ll just grab a pair of these.” I snagged a pair of purple boy shorts from the closest rack and shoved them in the cart.

  Landon, apparently oblivious to my shift in mood, picked up a pair of Wonder Woman briefs and smiled. “I think you should get these.”

  I stared at them a moment, dumbfounded. “Why?”

  “Because you’re my Wonder Woman.”

  “But … .”

  “I’ll love you forever if you wear these,” Landon offered, not waiting for an answer before dropping the panties in the cart.

  I pulled them back out, scowling. “How big do you think my butt is?”

  “What?” Landon stared at the panties, his eyes traveling to the colored tag at the top. He realized his mistake. “Oh, well … they looked small. Just like your butt.”

  “Such a smooth talker,” I muttered, switching out the Wonder Woman panties for the right size. “Okay, the men’s section is over there.”

  “Don’t forget a hoodie.” Landon pointed toward a rack. “Pick out whatever you want.”

  “I can wear Aunt Tillie’s hoodie.”

  “Pick out a new one,” Landon ordered, his voice hardening. “I’m officially bothered by the missing hoodie. I want you to have one of your own. It’s getting cold.”

  “Okay. Okay. You’re so freaking bossy sometimes.” I moved to the rack and grabbed a simple black hoodie.

  “And don’t you forget it.” Landon kissed my cheek before wandering toward the men’s clothing section. “By the way, I have something to bring up, and I’m a bit nervous.”