“Don’t be a moron, Margaret,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “There’s more than one sort of evil haunting this place. How can you be such an idiot?”
Mrs. Little’s eyes flashed with rage, the furious wind forgotten. “Who are you calling an idiot?” She reached out, as if to wrap her hands around Aunt Tillie’s neck, but Thistle was too fast for her.
“Stop this!” Thistle demanded. “Unless you want to die, you have to run.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mrs. Little planted her hands on her hips and bobbed her head, reminding me of a chicken. “You’ve concocted a plan to frighten us off the land because you want the treasure. I’m not falling for it.”
“How are they controlling the weather?” Wayne shouted over the wind. He’d edged closer to the trees on the far side of the clearing and it was obvious, to him at least, that running seemed like the better option.
“Yes, Margaret, how are we controlling the weather?” Aunt Tillie drawled.
“Probably through mass hypnosis,” Mrs. Little replied. “I’ve long thought that’s how you do just about everything. I saw a documentary on con artists, and that’s how they do it. I bet you went to Vegas and learned from one of those magicians ... or maybe one of those tarot readers in New Orleans.”
“It’s not mass hypnosis. It’s ... Eric!” I realized what was going to happen too late to stop it. Valerie hadn’t immediately seen her ex-boyfriend, but when she finally caught sight of him her rage grew. Up until that point, I’d thought I’d seen the limits of her fury.
I was wrong.
The ghost zeroed in on Eric and turned her immense energy in his direction. The wind picked up, and it felt as if we were trapped in a tunnel with a tornado pressing down.
“What’s going on?” Eric’s voice trembled as he edged backward. “I don’t understand. I ... is Valerie really here?”
He’d obviously heard me call her by name despite the nonstop chatter from everyone.
“She is and she’s pissed.” I moved with the intention of shoving him until he started running, but the shift jolted him.
Fear overtook his features. His face twisted into a mask of horror. In his haste to move away from me, he missed the fallen log we’d been hiding behind only minutes before. I could see the moment he realized he was going to fall, and the sympathy I felt for him was almost as great as the fear. He arced backward, his arms flailing wildly for balance. Valerie, now an apex predator, recognized the moment of weakness and swooped in his direction.
“No!” I wanted to help. There had to be something I could do. And yet, even as Valerie completely superimposed her ethereal form over Eric’s flailing figure, I knew it was too late.
“What’s happening?” Mrs. Little screamed, her eyes the size of saucers. She couldn’t see the ghost. She could only feel the wind ... and hear Eric’s death gasps as he fought what had once been his girlfriend.
There was no commanding her. There was no controlling her. There was no stopping her. There was nothing I could do, and the helplessness that washed over me was like a tsunami.
“Bay, we can’t stay here,” Thistle warned. She had Mrs. Little’s arm firmly in her grip and was dragging the older woman toward the water’s edge. “We have to go.”
I snapped my attention to Aunt Tillie, who looked grim. “We have to do something.”
“It’s too late,” she said at the same moment Eric’s ragged gasps ceased. The lines in her face deepened as she briefly pressed her eyes shut, displaying grief before she shuttered and focused on the realities of survival. “I’m sorry.” She grabbed Mrs. Little’s other arm and started pulling. “Let’s go, Margaret. Unless you want to be eaten as a ghost’s dinner, you’re done here.”
When I checked the spot where Wayne had been standing, I found it empty. Common sense had finally overcome his irrational fear and he’d fled into the night. I had no idea in what direction, although I figured he was probably fine as long as he didn’t stop or look back. And why would he? As far as he was concerned, only death remained in these woods. Nobody went hunting for death.
Valerie floated over Eric’s body. There was determination in her voice, and glee curved her lips. “You don’t belong here. This is my domain now.”
“You’re the one who needs to go,” I insisted, refusing to back down. “You’ve done more than enough.”
“That’s for me to say.”
My stomach curdled as her lips spread into a defiant sneer. “You need to go.” Before I even realized what I was doing, I called out to the other ghosts in the area. It was the only thing I could think to do. Within seconds, ethereal figures, including Viola, appeared behind me.
“I was watching the Kardashians,” Viola complained. “Why would you interrupt my show like that?”
“Get rid of her,” I ordered in my most authoritative voice. I didn’t recognize the other ghosts, but they snapped to attention and focused on Valerie.
“Fine,” Viola sniffed, “but you owe me a favor.” Her face contorted as she shifted into attack mode. “Let’s get this beyotch! Khloe is about to lose yet another man. She has bleeding tragic taste, but I can’t miss her being crushed again.”
The ghosts needed little prodding. They moved as a unit and descended on Valerie. For a moment, she looked as if she was going to put up a fight. The change in the atmosphere must’ve been too much for her, though, because she started floating backward.
“This isn’t over,” she warned, defiant. “This is my land.”
“So you’ve said, but it’s mine for now. Go.”
Valerie fled and the ghosts gave chase. That left Thistle, Aunt Tillie, Mrs. Little, and me to deal with the aftermath.
“WHAT HAPPENED?”
Landon was apoplectic by the time he found us in the woods. I’d called him right away, knowing we needed help with Eric’s body, but it took him a long time to find us, even with his GPS linked to my phone.
I didn’t immediately answer. I was too tired. He had his arms around me before anyone else could respond on my behalf.
“Why can’t you have a normal night of mayhem like everybody else?” he whispered into my ear, combing his fingers through my hair.
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Chief Terry announced, his eyes immediately going to Eric’s body. “Landon said, ‘Oh, they’re fine. They’re adults. They can trespass without any problems.’ Guess what? You can’t trespass without any problems. Ugh.” He slapped his hand to his face and looked to the stars, as if silently asking, “Why me,” while lamenting his lot in life.
“It wasn’t our fault,” Thistle insisted. She sat on a fallen log next to Aunt Tillie. Other than her hair being out of place thanks to the wind, she seemed fine. “It just ... happened.”
“What was he doing out here?” Landon asked, his eyes searching my face as he pulled back. He looked worried.
“Looking for buried treasure,” Aunt Tillie replied.
“Buried treasure?” Chief Terry was incredulous. “Are we back to that? I can’t even ... . The Great Lakes pirate didn’t have any money. That’s an old wives’ tale, for crying out loud.”
“Well, Mrs. Little, Wayne Lawson, and poor Eric thought otherwise,” Thistle replied. I was glad she didn’t seem to be having trouble finding words to explain what had happened because I was at a genuine loss. “Apparently they’ve been searching this property for a long time.”
“But why?” Chief Terry’s frustration was palpable.
“They found a map,” I volunteered finally, forcing a wan smile at the relieved look on Landon’s face. Apparently he thought I was in shock or something, and the fact that I could speak meant I was slowly shaking myself out of my unfortunate state. “I don’t know where they found it. We didn’t have time to ask. By the time they really started getting into it, Valerie was already heading this way.”
“What happened?” Landon asked in a softer voice, his fingers gentle against my cheek.
I told them in halting terms, backtr
acking a few times to get the timeline correct. Aunt Tillie continuously corrected me when I got something wrong — which was her way — and at a certain point Landon threatened her with a jail cell if she didn’t stop interrupting.
“Good luck with that,” Aunt Tillie muttered, although she stopped throwing in her two cents all the same.
When I finished, Landon turned his attention to Chief Terry. “How are we going to cover this up?”
“You can’t cover up Eric’s death,” I insisted. “He must have someone who cares about him. We need to get his body back to town so his family can bury him properly.”
This time the amusement that flitted through Landon’s eyes was legitimate. “I didn’t mean that we should cover up the death, Bay. I meant your involvement. We can’t very well include in our report the fact that you guys were out here to surprise someone looking for buried treasure.”
“Oh.” That made sense. I rubbed my cheek, considering. “Wayne and Mrs. Little saw everything. You have to take that into account. Mrs. Little took off the second our backs were turned. We didn’t even realize she was gone until it was too late. She’s probably already preparing her story.”
“Define ‘everything,’” Chief Terry prodded.
“Everything.” I held out my hands, helpless, as he viciously swore under his breath. “Mrs. Little accused us of causing the wind. She said it was mass hypnosis.”
“And Wayne?” Landon asked.
“He took off. I’m not sure when. He might not have seen what happened to Eric — it was really fast, and he couldn’t see Valerie — but he knows something terrible happened.”
“We’ll have to rein them in,” Chief Terry said, shaking his head. “This is just ... the worst. How do we fix this?”
I felt bad. Really bad. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” Landon admonished, pulling me against him. “This isn’t your fault. There’s no way you could’ve known what would happen.”
“That’s right.” Aunt Tillie was full of bravado now that she realized Landon and Chief Terry were willing to go to the mat for us. She easily skirted Thistle, who was trying to corral her, and moved closer to Eric’s body. “I bet the medical examiner will find he had a stroke or an embolism. There are no marks on his body.”
“Which is different from Heather,” I noted. “She had a broken neck.”
“Which she might’ve done herself when she realized there was an entity in her house,” Aunt Tillie supplied. “Think about how freaked you would be if you sensed a malevolent presence in your house in the middle of the night. She might’ve tripped and fallen while trying to get away.”
“The medical examiner is labeling her death suspicious but not necessarily criminal, though that’s not a real determination,” Landon offered. “He said it could go either way. Eric was our prime suspect, so I’m not sure what’s going to happen. My understanding is that Heather’s mother has contacted the ME’s office to claim the body, but it hasn’t gone further than that.”
I nodded. “Does that mean Heather’s mother is likely to inherit the house and property?”
“I don’t know,” Landon said. “We haven’t gotten that far yet. It’s on our list for tomorrow.
“Someone is controlling Valerie’s ghost.” I was more convinced of that than ever. “I very much doubt it’s Mrs. Little. That seems to indicate that someone else has heard this buried treasure story. Whoever we’re dealing with is smarter and more powerful than our other suspects.”
Landon’s hand went to the back of my neck and rubbed at the tension there. “Who else knows about the pirate legend?”
The question was directed at Chief Terry, who shook his head. “Everybody knows the legend. It’s even included in one of the summer festivals.”
“Yes, the kissing booth turns into an ‘Argh, I want to kiss your booty’ event,” I volunteered.
Despite the serious nature of the conversation, Landon’s eyes brightened. “How did we miss that?”
“I think that was the week we were moving in together. We didn’t hang out at the festival that week.”
“Well, we’re not missing it next year. I definitely want to kiss your booty.”
I smiled and rested my head on his shoulder, taking a moment to absorb his warmth. “Chief Terry is right. It could be anyone. The list of people who haven’t heard that story is short. Like, really, really short.”
“It’s not.” Landon was firm. “We’re dealing with someone who knows the story and has the ability to control a ghost. That can’t be a very long list.”
“No, but we could be dealing with someone who has managed to hide her abilities for a very long time,” I said. “We must be dealing with a witch. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“I agree, but I think you’re overlooking the obvious answer.”
I was confused. “And what’s that?”
Landon inclined his head toward the lake. “There’s a witch right over there, on the other side of the lake. And she’s probably heard the stories her entire life. She’s near the property, and her babysitter has been taking long walks to get away from her.”
My heart sank. I hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility, but I’d done it all the same. Each and every time, I ruthlessly shoved the notion out of my mind. But now it made sense.
“Dani.” I exhaled heavily and looked to Aunt Tillie.
“It’s possible,” Aunt Tillie said after a moment’s contemplation. “She grew up in this town. All the kids are aware of the pirate story. They all make fun of it, but Dani is a kid in crisis. She wants to run, but she doesn’t have any money. This would solve that problem.”
“So, what do we do?” I asked.
“We have to go back to the campground anyway,” Thistle said. “We have to question her. She’ll deny it, but if we’re lucky we might be able to catch her in a lie.”
Dani was a good liar. She could easily snow us if she put solid effort into it. Still, it felt like our only option. “Let’s do it.”
HAZEL WAS A PACING MESS WHEN WE BEACHED on the other side of the lake. Chief Terry and Landon stayed behind to deal with the medical examiner. They’d decided to go the anonymous call route. We couldn’t be present if they planned to sell that narrative. That meant escaping across the lake before they started calling.
“Thank the Goddess,” Hazel gasped when she saw us, scurrying in our direction. “I’ve been trying to call but you didn’t pick up.”
She was white as Valerie’s ghost. “Our cell service is spotty over there.”
“And we had an incident,” Thistle added. “We weren’t paying attention to our phones.”
“What’s wrong?” Aunt Tillie demanded, her interest keen.
Hazel wrung her hands. When she didn’t immediately speak, I prodded her. “Well?”
“It’s Dani. She melted down after you left.”
“Melted down how?” I asked, suspicious energy pooling in my chest.
“She kept going on and on about how you would never trust her and she was sick of being treated like a child,” Hazel explained. “I tried to talk her down, but ... she wouldn’t listen. She was enraged. I tried to make her go to the cabin, but she refused. She ... um ... lashed out with her magic.” She held out her arm, showing a red splotch on her shirt. It looked like blood.
“How is that possible?” Thistle asked. “I thought we warded the property.”
“We did,” Aunt Tillie argued. “It’s impossible.”
“Well, she did it.” Hazel looked resigned. “After she attacked me, she took off on foot. She’s gone. I didn’t think she could leave the property, but she did.”
I was dumbfounded. “What are we going to do?”
“Pray,” Aunt Tillie replied grimly. “We have to hope she doesn’t hurt someone before we track her down. Landon was right — and you have no idea how much I hate admitting that. Dani’s doing this. She’s the only one powerful enough.”
I felt sick. “I’ll
call Landon.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “He’ll want to know about this.”
“There’s nothing he can do,” Thistle pointed out.
“He’ll still want to know. This is ... bad.”
Aunt Tillie nodded. “It’s definitely bad. The kid is dangerous and now she’s out there wreaking havoc. We have to find her — and fast.”
Twenty-Three
I waited up for Landon.
The bedroom was dark when he made his way into the room and I could hear him as he dropped his clothes. His body was warm when he climbed in next to me and I immediately turned and let him draw me in.
“Bay.” His voice was barely a whisper as he inhaled deeply and pressed me tight.
He smelled like doughnuts, which would’ve been romantic under different circumstances. “The medical examiner?” I asked.
“He didn’t question us. Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.”
“But Mrs. Little.”
“Don’t worry,” he repeated. “Go to sleep. Morning will be here soon enough. We’ll talk about it then.”
“Okay.” I pressed my face to his chest and listened to the beat of his heart. “I really am sorry. I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”
That elicited a low chuckle. “Nobody thought it would turn out like this. It really is okay. Now go to sleep.”
“Okay.” I pressed my eyes shut and willed sleep to claim me. After a few minutes, I couldn’t stop myself from asking another question. “Do you think Mrs. Little will tell people what happened?”
He snorted. “Do I think Mrs. Little is going to tell people that you guys killed a man she was trespassing with? No.”
“We didn’t kill him.”
“No, but it might look like that from her perspective. My guess is that she’ll keep her mouth shut while waiting to see how things shake out. That will benefit us — at least over the short haul.”
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