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

by Amanda M. Lee

  Lightning flashed again and I found myself staring at the front window to see if I could catch movement, inching along the wall as I did. I was so focused on the window I didn’t notice Thistle’s door open until she was already moving through the opening. We smacked into each other, jolting, and sucked in calming breaths before locking gazes. Without hesitation, we both slapped each other across the shoulder and arm respectively and spoke at the same time.

  “You scared me.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  I rolled my neck until it cracked, working overtime to tamp down my anxiety as I regained control of my fear.

  “What are you doing out here?” Thistle asked, breaking the silence first. “You better than anyone should know the dangers of sneaking around the guesthouse in the middle of the night.”

  “Oh, whatever,” I muttered. “You’re sneaking around, too.”

  “That’s because I thought I saw something.”

  I stilled. “What?”

  “I … you’ll laugh.”

  “I won’t.” I was being truthful. “I thought I saw something outside of my window. I … it looked like a man.”

  “That’s what I saw, too!” Thistle slapped my arm for emphasis. “Do you think that means someone is outside?”

  “Ow … and yes.” I slapped her a second time, but only because I wanted to make sure we were even. “I thought I was imagining it. I didn’t want to wake Landon and have him worry that I was losing my mind.”

  “He wouldn’t think that,” Thistle shot back. “No one would, given what happened. You’re allowed to be freaked out about this. It’s only your first night back. Take a pill and chill. You’re making things worse by being a martyr.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Have you been talking to Landon?”

  “Yes, we had an enlightening conversation regarding the texture of bacon yesterday,” Thistle drawled. “He told me not to tell you because he doesn’t want you to think he’s cheating with conversation regarding his chosen breakfast food.”

  I hit her again, frustrated. “You’re such a pain.”

  “You’re a bigger pain,” Thistle shot back, pinching my flank for good measure. “Don’t hit me again. It makes me want to punch you, and you’ve already had one head injury this week.”

  “Oh, please,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “If you pinch me again, by the way, I’m going to kick you in your naughty bits.”

  “You only want to do that because you never got to kick Landon. He feels so guilty now that everyone would think you’re meaner than Aunt Tillie if you gave in to your baser urges.”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering. “No, I really want to kick you. I think it’s your attitude.”

  “What’s wrong with my attitude?”

  “It bites the big one.”

  “I’ll have you know that people around the globe would love to have my attitude,” Thistle argued. “I could win the attitude Olympics. Heck, if there was a job about having attitude, I could totally do it and be the highest paid person ever.”

  “Yes, you could totally do it professionally,” I deadpanned. “You get more and more like Aunt Tillie every single day. You know that, right?”

  Thistle’s mouth dropped open. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “You’ll live.”

  We both jerked our shoulders at the sound of another door opening. For a wild second I thought someone was entering through the front door. I stared in that direction even though nothing moved. It took me a moment to realize it was Clove’s door that opened. The expression on her face when she found us standing in the middle of the living room was almost comical.

  “I think I saw someone through the window,” Clove hissed. “I’m pretty sure it’s the murderer.”

  “You’re so dramatic,” Thistle scoffed. “You probably imagined it.”

  I cast her a sidelong look, incredulous. “That’s why we’re out here.”

  “Yes, but we’re not prone to histrionics,” Thistle pointed out. “She is. She probably thinks it’s Bigfoot. She’s now convinced he’s hanging around behind the library. Did I tell you that?”

  “I do not,” Clove snapped, adopting a whiny tone. “I simply said that there was a small chance that Viola isn’t crazy. That’s not the same thing at all.”

  “It’s close enough.”

  I rubbed my chin and glanced between faces. “I think we can rule Bigfoot out tonight. Can we table that discussion until next week or something? What should we do about the guy outside?”

  “I think we should wake Landon,” Clove answered promptly.

  “I think we should look ourselves so we don’t come across as idiots first,” Thistle replied.

  “What do you think, Bay?” Clove’s dark eyes were expectant as they locked with mine.

  “I … .”

  “She’s caught in the middle,” Thistle supplied. “She doesn’t want to look like a kvetch, but she’s genuinely scared.”

  Those were fighting words in the Winchester household. “I am not a kvetch.”

  “Sucks to be looked at that way, doesn’t it?” Clove muttered.

  I ignored her. “I think we should look for ourselves.”

  “Great.” Thistle beamed as she squared her shoulders. “What door do you want to use?”

  She said the words in the form of a dare. I knew exactly what she was doing, yet I couldn’t back down. “The back one,” I answered automatically. “It’s darker back there, and we can find immediate cover in the bushes if someone attacks.”

  “Awesome.” Thistle swished her hips as she strode in that direction. Clove’s stride was decidedly heavier.

  “I think this is a terrible idea, for the record,” Clove whispered. “We have three men sleeping in this house. We should wake them and send them outside.”

  “Oh, that’s just pathetic,” Thistle complained. “Every Winchester woman ever born is standing up in her grave and screaming because that was the lamest thing ever.”

  Clove’s mouth dropped open as she shifted her eyes to me. “Tell her to take it back.”

  “I would … but she’s not wrong.” I moved past Thistle and grabbed the door handle, staring for a long moment.

  “I still think we should get the guys,” Clove volunteered.

  Thistle, perhaps sensing my worry, took me by surprise and nodded. “We’ll get the guys. We don’t need to do this ourselves.”

  When I considered that option, I knew it was the smartest way to go. The Winchester women aren’t cautious, though. They were never cautious.

  “We’ll just look,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Once we see no one is out there, we’ll be fine. If we see something, we’ll scream.”

  Thistle stared at me a moment, her expression unreadable. “Okay,” she said finally. “We’ll do it. We’ll open the door, give it a good look, and then come right back inside. I think all of us are letting our imaginations run wild.”

  “I don’t,” Clove countered. “I think we should wake Landon.”

  Thistle and I ignored her.

  “Let’s do this.” I inhaled heavily and then breathed out through my nose, sucking in another big breath before throwing open the door. Thistle and I jumped through the opening, prepared to act in case someone attacked. Clove loitered a bit behind. I knew she would scream if we were attacked. This was about me, not her, after all.

  “Anything?” Thistle asked nervously.

  I shook my head. “I don’t see … no.”

  “There!” Thistle yelled loud enough to cause Clove to take a step back and slam into the doorframe. She screamed without catching a glimpse of what Thistle indicated, and I knew the guys would be joining us soon. I pushed that out of my mind as I followed Thistle’s finger. Sure enough, a dark shadow detached from the trees and began running.

  “What should we do?” Clove asked, regaining her composure, though only marginally. “Should we run and hide? Maybe we should get a truck and run him
over.”

  “Or maybe we can do this,” Thistle said, grabbing a shovel from beside the house. Someone had left it there, resting against the siding, and Thistle heaved it with everything she had in the direction of the fleeing figure. It moved faster and farther than it should’ve, as if propelled by more than Thistle’s attitude and fury.

  Something made a noise in the woods and I was certain the shovel made contact. I couldn’t help but be impressed. “That was a nice shot.”

  “Thank you.” Thistle puffed out her chest as Landon, Marcus and Sam barreled through the back door.

  “What is it?” Sam asked, breathless.

  “Thistle and Bay made me come outside,” Clove automatically answered. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  Thistle made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “You wimp.”

  Landon ignored the burgeoning argument. “Did you see anything?”

  “Over there.” I pointed toward the thick trees. “We saw someone run, and then Thistle threw a shovel at him. At least I think it was a him. It was really too dark to tell.”

  “Did she hit him?”

  I nodded. “I heard someone groan.”

  “Stay here.” Landon moved in the direction of the trees. He was halfway there before I realized he wasn’t armed.

  “Wait … .” My voice wasn’t loud enough to carry, but Landon was already at the site, his sharp eyes searching the area. After a few minutes, he returned to us.

  “If someone was there they’re not any longer,” he said. “The shovel is definitely there. I don’t want to tramp all over the area until morning because I won’t be able to see anything until it’s light out and I might accidentally ruin evidence.”

  “Do you believe me?”

  Landon nodded without hesitation. “I do. I believe someone was out here.”

  “Oh, well, good.”

  “Yes, good.” Landon didn’t sound happy. “Now we’re going to discuss what possessed the three of you to come out here without waking us.”

  “I told you.” Clove was full of herself as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Now we’re going to get yelled at, and it’s your fault.”

  “He’s not going to yell,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m going to yell.” Landon’s expression was grim. “You are in so much trouble they’re going to have to invent another word for trouble.”

  Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. Although, it did remind me of how he usually sounded when we found danger.

  “Okay, but I’m going to want hot chocolate before you start yelling,” I said. “I’m cold and it’s wet out here.”

  “Fine.” Landon pressed his hand to the small of my back to prod me inside. “No marshmallows, though. You’re being punished.”

  Twenty-Three

  “Get up.”

  As far as wakeup calls go, it was pretty much the worst I’d faced in quite some time. I opened one eye and stared at Landon as he leaned over me.

  “If you want to do it, go ahead,” I said, moving my hands so they rested on either side of me. “You have to do all of the work, though. Also, I’m too tired to strip, so you’ll have to do that, too.”

  Landon’s expression waffled between amused and annoyed. “Yeah, if that’s what I wanted I would already have you begging.”

  I snorted. “I don’t beg.”

  “I could make you.”

  “You have a mighty high opinion of yourself.”

  “I have one of you, too.” Landon wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged me to a sitting position. “You need to get dressed.”

  That was the exact opposite of what I thought he had in mind. “I thought you were going to romance me.” That sounded a lot less whiny in my head, but it was too late to adjust my tone. “Are you punishing me because of what happened last night?”

  Landon didn’t immediately answer, instead cocking an eyebrow. He licked his lips and made a sound I couldn’t identify before finally speaking. “Do you think you deserve punishment?”

  That was an interesting question. “Are you going to punish me with kisses?”

  Landon’s lips curved before he remembered we were in the middle of a serious conversation. “I might do that later. As for the rest … I believe we discussed that last night. Do you need me to remind you of how stupid your actions were?”

  That discussion lasted far longer than it should have, mostly because Thistle insisted on taking on the role of chief instigator and acting as poker to stoke the fire whenever she sensed that Landon was close to winding down. “Definitely not.”

  Landon flashed his world-famous grin. “I don’t want you to get up because I’m determined to romance or punish you. Although, to be fair, I do have romantic plans I’m hoping to work in before the end of the day. We don’t have time for that now.”

  “Oh, well … .” I straightened my shoulders. “What are we doing now? I can’t seem to remember making plans or anything.”

  “We didn’t. Noah is on his way.”

  That was the last thing I expected. “Why?” This time I knew I sounded whiny, but I didn’t care. “He’s not going to trash the house again, is he?”

  “He’s not coming into this house.” Landon was firm. “I had to tell him what you guys saw last night, though. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but I believe the system will work for you. He needs to know, and I told him what happened. He’s on his way out here to search the scene.”

  I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead, dragging it upward along a slow path until it touched my hair. “The system hasn’t really been helping me this week. In fact, the system and I aren’t on the best of terms because the system took you away for a month. I think it’s fair to say that the system and I are on a break.”

  Landon snorted. “I know that, sweetie. If I feel things are going south, I’ll get you out of here. You have to know that.”

  “I do know that.” I honestly did. “I guess I should get in the shower, huh? I’d hate for Agent Give-me-a-headache to see me with bedhead.”

  Landon pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I happen to be a big fan of the bedhead. But yes, I think you would prefer being put together when he gets here.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  LANDON WAS already outside standing next to the spot where the shovel landed when I exited the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of him through the window as I trudged into the living room. Clove and Sam had returned to the Dandridge for breakfast and showers, but Thistle and Marcus sipped coffee in the kitchen as I passed through the room.

  “Have you seen Agent Gasbag?”

  Thistle snorted. “I saw him when he knocked on the door,” she replied. “Landon answered it and they shook hands all prim and proper like. Instead of inviting him inside of the house to cut through to the back door, though, Landon followed him outside and they walked to the back on the east side of the house.”

  Hmm. That sounded like a mild power play to me. “Landon is trying to show him who’s boss.”

  “I’m the boss,” Thistle said, not missing a beat. “No one should ever forget that. I’m the boss … the big, big boss.”

  “You’re a pain in the butt is what you are,” I shot back. “Do you think I should go out there or stay in here?”

  “I guess that depends what sort of message you want to send,” Thistle replied. “If you go out there you’re kind of giving him the power to make you go to him. Of course, you don’t want him in the house, and if you go out there you can be as mean as you want because he’s got it coming.”

  That was an interesting way to look at it. “I think I’ll go out there.”

  Thistle slapped a fresh mug of coffee into my hand before topping off her mug. “I think I’ll go with you.”

  Marcus, completely silent since I joined them, arched a questioning eyebrow.

  “If I’m mean to him I’ll get it out of my system,” Thistle explained to his unasked question. “I won’t feel the need to explode all over you if I do it all over him.
”

  Marcus offered Thistle an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “My day is already looking up.”

  “Just wait until I’m riding high on adrenalin and sarcasm fumes,” Thistle said, kissing his cheek before following me toward the door. “Your day will be freaking outstanding then.”

  “Perhaps I should invite Agent Glenn to hang out more often,” Marcus suggested.

  Thistle narrowed her eyes in warning. “Don’t ruin it.”

  “Have fun terrorizing the FBI agent,” Marcus called out. “Wow. There’s something I never thought I’d say.”

  “Welcome to the Winchester world.” I winked for good measure before walking through the back door. I immediately glanced to the left and found Landon standing next to Noah as they discussed something near the area where I was certain Thistle managed to nail our intruder with the shovel.

  “I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” Noah said, impatience bubbling up. “Why do you assume that I’m your enemy in this? All I’m saying is that this scenario doesn’t sound likely.”

  “You are my enemy in all of this,” Landon shot back, his cheeks flushed with color. I was fairly certain the brisk morning air didn’t cause that flush.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, drawing two sets of eyes to me.

  “Agent Glenn thinks I’m lying,” Landon answered.

  “I didn’t say that,” Noah protested. “I merely said that there’s nothing here to indicate that anyone was slinking around the house last night. You said yourself that you didn’t see anyone – that you couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman because you were inside – so that means that all we have to go on is the word of … these two.”