That was the moment Landon and Chief Terry strode into the room. If they thought there was anything strange about the declaration, they didn’t show it.
“Hey.” I immediately turned to Landon. He looked exhausted. “Did you get any sleep at all?”
He shook his head, his eyes roaming my face. “It doesn’t look like you did either.” He sat down and pressed his hand to my forehead, exactly as Twila had greeted Thistle. “You’re not warm.”
I offered him a half smile. “And here I thought you fell for me because you found me hot.”
“Oh, you’re definitely hot.” He gave me a quick kiss and did his best to appear happy. I could see the trouble lurking in his eyes, though. “You should take the day off.”
I found the suggestion ludicrous. “Because I’m tired?”
“Because you were almost thrown down a flight of stairs by a crazy ghost. You need a recovery day. You should go back to the guesthouse, put on those fuzzy pajama pants you love so much, make some tea, and watch old movies.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You need rest.”
“What about you?”
“I have a job to do. If I could, you can bet I would be right there with you ... perhaps without the fuzzy sleep pants. I’m convinced they’re only cute on you.”
Part of me thought I should be angry with him because he thought I was too weak to make it through the day on limited sleep. The other part was touched he cared enough to keep talking as if it were something I would actually do.
“I have work,” I said. “I can’t just take the day off. The Whistler can’t run itself.”
“It’s a weekly and you have days before the next edition,” Landon argued. “I think you can take the day off.”
“That’s not going to happen.” My tone turned icy. “I’m fully capable of making it through a day on only a few hours of sleep. I’m not fragile.”
“I didn’t say you were fragile.” The tilt of his head told me he wasn’t in the mood to argue. “I just don’t like it when you’re this pale. I apologize for suggesting you get rest. Obviously I’m an ogre.”
His passive-aggressive response only annoyed me more. “Did you find anything important at the house?” I asked Chief Terry, who sat in his regular chair.
“Nothing much to speak of,” Chief Terry replied. “Landon was right about her neck being broken. There were no signs of forcible entry, including the door you all came through. That wasn’t easy to explain, by the way.”
“Why not just say she didn’t bother to lock the door?” Thistle asked as she poured a glass of juice. “That seems an easy enough lie to come up with.”
Chief Terry frowned. “Not now.” He jabbed a finger at her and turned back to me. “The only thing we have going for us right now is that we’re in control of the investigation. If another department had jurisdiction, we’d be in a world of hurt.”
“So what happens now?” I asked. “You can’t blame a ghost in your report.”
Chief Terry took a deep breath. “We’ll question Eric, make sure he’s aware of Heather’s death, and go from there. We’ll handle it like a normal investigation even though it looks like a ghost is our culprit.”
“That’s probably smart.” My mind had been so busy when we returned to the camp that I could barely shut it off. I’d come up with a hunch. “We might be looking for someone human after all.”
“What do you mean?” Chief Terry asked.
“Valerie is different. I think the reason I couldn’t control her is because someone else already was. That means we’re dealing with someone with magical powers.”
Landon stirred. “Someone like you?”
“Maybe not exactly like me, but close.”
“How sure are you that we’re dealing with another magical being?”
“Fairly certain. It makes sense.”
He nodded. “Okay, we’ll go with that. Now we just have to figure out who hated Valerie and Heather enough to kill them. Eric is the obvious suspect, but that almost feels too easy.”
I had to agree. “I think we’re missing part of the puzzle.”
“Then we’ll work together.” Landon moved his hand to my back, not caring in the least that I was still agitated with him. “We’re a team.”
“I thought you wanted me to take a nap.”
“I do, but I’m willing to hold off until we can nap together. That will be better for both of us.”
I studied his face for a moment and then smiled. “So you’re coming to my office to pass out for an hour at lunch?”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
I shook my head. “Nope. It’s a date.”
Fourteen
I stopped at the guesthouse long enough to shower. I wasn’t alone. Landon had seemingly lost interest in trying to get me to stay home — which still struck me as weird — and we had a round of fun before separating for the morning. He promised to keep in touch with any developments and I did the same.
By the time I made it to The Whistler, the lack of sleep was catching up with me. The couch in my office was inviting. I had work to do, but I figured a short nap couldn’t hurt. I meant to close my eyes for twenty minutes.
Two hours later, I woke to someone shuffling in my personal space and I almost jumped out of my skin as I swiveled to scan the office.
“If you’re going to sleep in here, you should lock the door,” Mrs. Little announced, her prominent nostrils flaring. “Someone could just walk in off the street if you’re not more careful. Do you want random people to walk in off the street?”
My mind was muddled from the heavy sleep and it took me a moment to wrap my head around the situation. “Aren’t you a random person who just walked in off the street?”
She fixed me with a haughty look. “I’m the head of the Downtown Development Authority, president of the Hemlock Cove Festival Committee, chairman of the Friends of Hemlock Cove Community Outreach Program, and the single most influential businessperson in town.”
I blinked several times in rapid succession. “And?”
“I’m pretty far from a random person.”
“Oh, well ... .” I swung my legs to the side of the couch and tried to force myself to wakefulness. I’d been in the middle of a particularly lovely dream — one that involved Landon, a picnic, and the campground all to ourselves — when she burst into my reverie. Now I was awake and stuck with her.
“What do you want?” I asked. I expected her to announce her intentions, but she seemed content wandering my office.
She stopped at my desk and lifted one of the framed photos. It was Landon and me after a night of drinking on the bluff that overlooked the inn. He had his arm slung around my shoulders and boasted one of the widest smiles I’d ever seen. I was particularly fond of the photo, though I had no idea who had snapped it. My memory of that night was hazy thanks to copious amounts of Aunt Tillie’s homemade wine.
“When was this taken?” she asked.
“Last summer,” I replied, forcing myself to stand so I could snatch the photo from her. “What do you want?”
“That’s not a very friendly greeting, Bay,” she chided. “You’re a business owner now. You should be gracious to other business owners.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” I returned the photo to its spot, taking a moment to wipe the smudge she’d put on the glass before giving her my entire focus. “Do you need something?”
“Information.” She turned prim. “I understand that you were out at Heather Castle’s house last evening and might have information regarding the tragedy that befell her.”
This felt like a dangerous conversation, especially since I wasn’t quite yet awake. “I was at the campground last night,” I corrected. “We thought we heard a scream. It was hard to ascertain exactly where it was coming from. Heather’s house is the only other structure in the vicinity, so we decided to check it out in case she needed help.”
“And you found her dead, correct?�
�
I didn’t understand how she already had that information. “Who told you that?” I was suspicious of her intentions and didn’t want to give too much away.
“Larry Boggs was out there this morning because the ambulance carrying Heather’s body got stuck in the ditch. That driveway is treacherous, and if you’re not used to it, then it can lead to problems. She should have had it widened before she took over occupancy.”
“Well ... that seems like the perfect thing to worry about given her death,” I said dryly, shaking my head. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”
“I’m not here about the driveway. That’s a problem for another day. I’m here about Heather. You saw her after the fact, right?”
“I ... we went in when nobody answered.” I chose my words carefully. It probably wasn’t wise to own up to anything in front of Mrs. Little, but I was worried that she would start sniffing around if I wasn’t forthcoming with what should’ve been considered easy information. “Landon was with us, so he made the call. The screams were loud and frightening. We didn’t want to walk away when no one answered the door. If she was in trouble, we wanted to help.”
“Yes, yes. I figured all that out myself.” She impatiently waved her hand. Apparently Heather’s final moments weren’t all that important to her. “I’m more interested in the house. It wasn’t destroyed in the attack, was it?”
The question caught me off guard. “I ... what are you asking?”
“The house,” she repeated. “Was it damaged? Someone said there was no damage to the house, but I’m not sure I believe the guy who drives the ambulance part time for a living when he says there was no damage. He also thinks that crappy truck he drives looks okay.”
“I feel like I’m still asleep or something and not understanding what you’re asking. I apologize, but why are you worried about the house?”
The sigh she let loose was long and drawn out. It was obvious she thought I was being difficult. “This isn’t rocket science, Bay. I’m asking about the house because it’s important. Was it damaged in the attack last night? If so, how much damage would you estimate?”
“I didn’t really look around. I had other things on my mind — like the dead body on the floor.”
“Yes, absolutely tragic,” Mrs. Little agreed, drawing her shoulders straighter. “That poor woman was barely in town and she’s already gone. Terrible.” She made a tsking sound. “I’m simply worried about the house. That’s quite the showplace up there and I want to make sure it wasn’t damaged so it won’t take too long for it to go back on the market.”
It was only then that I remembered the story of her being interested in the house. “You think you can waltz in and buy it.”
She was suddenly the picture of innocence. “I didn’t say that. Did you hear me say that?”
“No, but you were trying to buy it before Heather came to town and beat your offer.”
“She didn’t beat my offer. She got priority because she had the cash.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the same thing.”
“And I’m pretty sure you know nothing about real estate because you’ve never owned anything before,” she shot back.
“I own this place.” I gestured toward my office. “Landon bought the campground with the express intent of building a house for us out there.”
“Yes, but you didn’t buy either of those.” Mrs. Little was snotty on a normal day. Apparently my attitude had her feeling extra salty, because the look she shot me was full of warning. “Landon took care of that for you, correct? He bought the newspaper. He bought the campground. You’re very lucky to have stumbled across him. Most women would kill for a man who wants to take care of them in that manner.”
Anger grabbed me by the throat. “First, we take care of each other,” I snapped. “Second, I bought this place. He gave me a small loan for the down payment, but I’ve already paid him back. This is my business.”
“How wonderful for you.” Her smile was bland. “Back to the house, though. Did Terry say what he expects to happen now? How soon do you think it will be before it’s back on the market?”
Heather had been dead less than twelve hours and Mrs. Little was trying to steal her property. The realization made me sick to my stomach — and furious. “You’ll have to take that up with Chief Terry.”
“I would but he’s asked that I limit my visits to the police department to once a week unless there’s a genuine emergency. And he gets to deem what constitutes an emergency.”
I almost laughed. He’d failed to mention that development. It would’ve been funny on any other day. What happened last night, though, left me sad and puzzled. “Then I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not a real estate expert.”
“But you could find out,” she wheedled. “All you have to do is call Terry. He’s very fond of you, though I’ve never understood why.”
“I could call him,” I agreed. “But he’s busy with other things. A murder takes precedence over your real estate needs.”
“Oh, don’t take that tone with me. I’m not unsympathetic, but that property is very important to the town. I want to make sure it’s handled correctly.”
“You want to find out if there’s any wiggle room for you to step in and claim it because Heather had barely taken possession.”
Mrs. Little’s eyes flashed with hatred. “I don’t need your attitude, Bay. It’s a simple question. If you don’t know the answer, just say so.”
“I don’t know the answer.”
“Fair enough.” She made an annoying sniffle and started toward the door. “It would probably be best if we kept this conversation confidential. You know, just so there are no misunderstandings in town.”
“I have no interest in sharing this information with anybody.” Even as I said the words, I was lying. I knew at least five people who would be interested in the information.
“Great. I’ll see you soon.” She gave me a faux cheery wave and disappeared through the door, leaving me with nothing but annoyance and a dim memory of the happy dream I’d lost thanks to her visit.
“That was weird,” I muttered, my brain finally kicking into high gear. “She’s up to something.”
I WAS RECHARGED AFTER MY visit from Mrs. Little so I headed to the second real estate office in town, the only one that competed with Eric’s office.
Wayne Lawson went to school with my mother. He fancied himself a town big shot, even though he had a shady reputation. Most everyone looking to buy property went to Eric or independent agents because Wayne’s reputation wasn’t lily white. It was gray, which is why certain business owners — including Mrs. Little — utilized his services. He was known to cross ethical boundaries, which is why I decided to visit him first.
If Mrs. Little was trying to pull a fast one, she would go through Wayne.
“Bay Winchester,” he boomed when I walked through the door. He didn’t bother getting to his feet, instead remaining in his chair and offering one of those smiles that makes you want to punch someone in the face rather than return it. “I haven’t seen you in a bit. This is a nice surprise.”
“Yes, well, I was walking by and had a few questions,” I said.
“Questions?” He winked, but he couldn’t do it right; one eyelid closed halfway while the other closed completely. “I think you just got a hankering to see old Wayne. You always were fond of me. I think you had a little crush on me when you were a kid.”
That was the most absurd thing I’d ever heard. “Yeah, I had a crush on Mike Proctor. He was the guy who served under Chief Terry when I was ten. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have picked you out of a lineup.”
Rather than be offended, Wayne gestured to the chair across from his desk. “Have a seat. Are you here to talk about the bad deal your boyfriend got on that campground? If you’re looking to unload, I might be able to scrounge up a buyer for you — but I don’t know that he’ll recoup all his money.”
“Actually, we’re qu
ite happy with that purchase,” I countered, taking the chair and crossing my legs as I tried to get comfortable. “In a few years, we’re going to tear down the old cabins and build a house. Landon has a five-year plan.”
“He’s going to build a house on a cop’s salary? How is he going to manage that?”
“He’s an FBI agent.”
“Same thing.”
“Not really. But that’s not why I’m here. I want to talk about the other house. The one Heather Castle purchased a few weeks ago.”
All jocularity left Wayne’s features as he clucked his tongue and shook his head. “I heard what happened out there last night. That is a tragedy.”
Apparently news had spread faster than I’d anticipated. I blamed Mrs. Little. I blamed her for everything I possibly could because she was a horrible old wench. “It’s definitely a tragedy,” I agreed.
“Are you looking to buy that house? No offense, but I don’t think you can afford it. I heard you had trouble putting together the money you needed for the newspaper. This would be substantially more than that.”
The fact that everybody knew my financial situation was a nuisance, but I managed to keep my face neutral — barely. “I’m not interested in buying it. I want to know what happens to the property now that Heather is gone.”
“I don’t know the specifics of Ms. Castle’s will.” He sent me an odd look. “Is this for an article?”
“Research,” I lied. “Now that Heather is dead, the property will be up for grabs. I believe there was something of a bidding war the last go-around. You and your client against Eric and Heather Castle — and they won.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned on Wayne’s face. “This is about Margaret.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied again.
“Oh, don’t bother.” His lips curved into a smug smile. “I’m not surprised that she’s already sniffing around. She was furious that she lost that property. I tried to explain why cash was more motivating to a seller, but she was irate.”
“I’m not quite sure I understand why she wants that property,” I admitted. “It’s a haul to and from town.”
To Love a Witch Page 14