A Breath of Witchy Air

by Amanda M. Lee

  I shrugged. “Why should it?”

  “What if he’s backing out?”

  “Then I’ll have to deal with it.” I shifted to stare at the ceiling. “He was in a really foul mood yesterday. It’s occurred to me a few times that he might be bitter enough to pull out of the deal entirely.”

  “You hadn’t mentioned that.”

  “I didn’t want you to think I was being a baby.”

  “I wouldn’t think that, because I’m worried myself.” Landon grabbed my hand and moved it to his chest as he got comfortable next to me. “If he tries to pull out, what will you do?”

  “I don’t know.” That was an honest answer. I had no idea what I would do if my plans fell apart. “I guess I would have to find another job. Of course, I have exactly zero skills other than being a reporter so I don’t know what that job would entail.” I flicked my eyes to him. “You don’t need an assistant, do you? I might be good at that.”

  Landon chuckled. “I’m not sure our relationship could survive that much togetherness. Of course, I do like the idea of being your boss.”

  Now that he mentioned it, that sounded like a terrible idea. “Maybe I’ll become Aunt Tillie’s sidekick. She’s always complaining that she needs help when it comes to her plans for world domination.”

  “Yes, because that doesn’t have ‘disaster’ written all over it.”

  I jolted when my phone dinged and glanced at the new message. “She says she emailed me a breakdown. Hold on.” I headed to my email and searched until I found her name in the inbox. The message wasn’t long, but I didn’t feel better after reading through it. “She says that Brian’s lawyer tried to slip in a succession clause.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means that he wanted me to promise that I would sell The Whistler to him if I ever want to get rid of it.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “I don’t know.” I tugged on my bottom lip. “He also wanted me to leave him the newspaper in the event of my death.”

  Landon immediately balked. “What?”

  “Don’t worry. She’s having all that language removed. At least she’s on top of things.”

  “I don’t like it at all.” Landon was firm. “It makes me think he had plans outside of what he’s telling everyone in town whenever he goes out for coffee or a meal.”

  “And what plans are those?”

  “I’ve been checking up on him.”

  My lips curved. “That doesn’t surprise me. What have you found out?”

  “He’s telling anyone who will listen that he’s leaving town because we ran him out.”

  That was interesting. “We kind of did.”

  “No, he did it to himself.” Landon had never liked Brian and I knew he was keen to say goodbye to the man. “I’m glad your agent caught it, but I don’t like that he thought he could slip something like that through. It makes me nervous.”

  “Because you think he’s going to come back to town and kill me so he can inherit The Whistler all over again?” That didn’t make much sense. “I don’t think that would turn out well for him.”

  “Mostly because I would kill him if he ever touched you.”

  “Wow. You’re feeling feisty this morning, huh?” I poked his side. “I don’t even remember you coming home last night. How late were you?”

  “About midnight.” Landon relaxed a bit, his smile returning. “You were drunk and passed out on the floor.”

  “That must be why my neck hurts.”

  “I carried you to bed. I knew you were going to feel rough, so I planned ahead.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and handed it to me, gesturing for me to hold out my hand so he could add aspirin to the mix. “Even though you don’t have to close on The Whistler today – which kind of irritates me because I wanted our official moving-in anniversary to coincide with you becoming the boss so we could celebrate the milestones together – I don’t think you should stay in bed all day.”

  I popped the aspirin into my mouth and slurped down half the bottle of water before responding. “Why? You’re usually pushing for me to spend the day in bed.”

  “That’s only when we can share the experience. It would be a waste for you to do that alone.”

  “Good point.” I drank more of the water and tilted my head so I could look him up and down more closely. He’d already showered and dressed for work. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk when I got back to the guesthouse yesterday. Do you have more information about the women I found?”

  “I do.”

  “I found an identity on one of them.” I searched my memory. “Abby Kennish.”

  “How did you find that name?”

  “I searched missing person reports and recognized the bracelet in one of the photographs. She was still wearing it when Chief Terry uncovered her.”

  “Ah.” Landon squeezed my hand. “I should’ve known you would put in some legwork on this. We identified her ourselves.”

  “What about the others?”

  “We have identifications on two of the others. Heather Walters and Jennifer Ripley. We’re still waiting for confirmation on the fourth.”

  “Do you know anything about them other than they’re dead?”

  “We know they were murdered, their throats slashed, and probably somewhere else because there was no blood at the scene.”

  I shifted, uncomfortable with the picture he was painting. “Were they … um … sexually assaulted?”

  Landon clearly understood my discomfort because he gripped my hand tighter. “We don’t know yet. The bodies need to warm before we can start looking for specifics.”

  “Ah.” I hadn’t even thought of that. “Do you know anything else?”

  “We know that they were students at the community college over in Gaylord,” Landon replied. “None of them lived on campus; the school is too small for dorms, but we’re not sure if they had ties to one another at this point. All we know is that they were students.”

  “That probably means the fourth girl was, too.”

  “Yeah. We should have confirmation on her identity today.” Landon stared into space for a few moments and then tapped the mattress. “Get up. You need to shower and get dressed.”

  “Ugh.” I was back to feeling sorry for myself. “Why?”

  “Because I want breakfast and I prefer eating with you.”

  “That’s sweet. There’s a banana in the kitchen.”

  Landon chuckled. “I want bacon.”

  “You always want bacon.”

  “I do. I want you up, too. Thistle is leaving right after breakfast. I know you don’t want to miss that.”

  He was right. “Fine.” I blew out a resigned sigh. “I’m going to need a lot of fluids to get through the day.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  I FELT ALMOST HUMAN walking into The Overlook’s dining room. Chief Terry was already seated – it was always a nice surprise when he joined us for breakfast – and Clove and Thistle were busy holding their heads in their hands as I sat and immediately reached for the juice pitcher.

  “How are you guys feeling?”

  “Don’t talk to me,” Thistle warned, not bothering to look up. “I will stab the first person who talks to me in the throat.”

  “She’s feeling rough,” Marcus answered for his girlfriend, amusement lighting his handsome features. “I’m hoping breakfast helps.”

  “That’s what she gets for having a martini party and not inviting her mother,” Twila clucked as she poured a mug of coffee and shoved it in front of Thistle. “This is karma.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Thistle sipped the coffee and let loose a groan that sounded positively orgasmic. “Now this is the stuff.”

  I smirked as I took my usual chair between Landon and Chief Terry, offering a smile for the chief as I grabbed my napkin from the center of my plate. “This is a nice surprise.”

  Chief Terry leaned back in his cha
ir, coffee in hand, and gave me a severe once over. “I came to see how you were. I’m not going to lie. I’m a little worried because you look as if you would do better with a day in bed.”

  That was as close as Chief Terry ever got to an insult when it came to me. “Thank you.”

  “I just meant that you look rough.”

  “That’s not much better.”

  Chief Terry smirked. “You look like you have a hangover. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “I definitely have a hangover.”

  “You wouldn’t have drunk so much if you invited your mothers,” Twila sniffed, shooting me a withering look. “We would’ve kept you in check.”

  “Yes, because that’s what every twentysomething witch wants to do with her evening,” Thistle muttered. “She wants to be kept in check by her mother and aunts.”

  “Don’t push me,” Twila warned, extending a finger in her daughter’s direction. “I’m already at my limit.”

  “She’s upset because you’re moving out, mouth,” Aunt Tillie offered, seemingly in a very good mood as she piled pancakes onto her plate. “I, on the other hand, am considering throwing a party.”

  “Oh, don’t get too comfortable, old lady,” Thistle warned. “I’ll be back for multiple meals. You’re not safe from my wrath.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing if a change in location makes you smarter,” Aunt Tillie said. “It couldn’t possibly make you dumber.”

  “You’ll wish you’d never met me by the time I’m done with you,” Thistle hissed.

  Aunt Tillie let loose a loud and raucous belly laugh. “You’re so funny. I have no idea where you get it from, but you’re hilarious.”

  If Aunt Tillie wanted to agitate Thistle, she picked the perfect way to do it.

  “I’m going to run you over with your own plow,” Thistle muttered.

  Rather than focus on the brewing argument, I turned my full attention to Chief Terry. “You said you came to see me?”

  “Maybe I just enjoy your company.” Chief Terry’s eyes twinkled. “Have you ever considered that?”

  “Daily. I think something else is going on today, though.” I glanced at Landon for confirmation. “Is this about the women I found in the snow?”

  “That is an absolutely horrible story, by the way,” Mom groused as she took her seat across from me. “I cannot believe that happened in Hemlock Cove. It must have been some sort of tragic accident, right?”

  Chief Terry immediately started shaking his head. “It was not an accident, and that’s another reason I wanted to stop by. I want everyone in this house to be careful. The girls who were killed – and make no mistake, they were murdered – are younger than everyone under this roof. I think it’s fair to say that we have a predator on the loose. I don’t want anyone doing something stupid and accidentally stumbling on this guy’s radar.”

  “How do you know it’s a man?” Aunt Tillie poured enough syrup on her pancakes to create a small lake. “It could be a woman. Women are just as strong as men.”

  “I didn’t say otherwise.” Chief Terry poured more coffee into his mug. If I had to guess, he’d had a late night … and not for the same reasons I did. “It’s simply more likely to be a man.”

  “Well, I hope whoever it is comes after me,” Aunt Tillie supplied. “I’ll rip off his balls and feed them to him.”

  “Aunt Tillie!” Twila was scandalized. “You can’t say things like that around the breakfast table. This is a business.”

  Aunt Tillie’s expression was dubious as she glanced around. “I don’t see any guests.”

  “They don’t start arriving until tomorrow afternoon,” Mom said. “You need to be careful about what you say no matter whom is at the table. I don’t think that was an appropriate comment.”

  “Oh, geez.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “Like anyone in this house ever says anything appropriate.”

  “I do,” Twila challenged.

  “You once told me that bras were outlawed by the federal government because all boobs should be free,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “How appropriate was that?”

  Twila’s cheeks flushed with color. “I was a teenager … and those were the times.”

  “You were an idiot,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “Don’t talk to me about appropriate conversations. I’m not in the mood. As for this killer, I honestly hope he does come after me. I’ll teach him a lesson or two about going after vulnerable women.”

  “I’m not particularly worried about you,” Chief Terry admitted. “I’m worried about Bay, Clove and Thistle. The girls who were killed were college students. You girls are older, but you’re still young enough that you might make enticing targets.”

  “Did you hear that, girls?” Aunt Tillie asked Mom, Marnie and Twila. “He’s saying you look old. Welcome to my world.”

  Chief Terry frowned. “That is not what I said.”

  “That’s totally what you said.”

  “It is not.”

  “It is, too.”

  “Son of a … !” Chief Terry managed to pull himself together, but just barely. “Don’t you have snow to plow or something? Isn’t that what you do when there’s white powder on the ground?”

  “I’ll get to the plowing.” Aunt Tillie was seemingly unbothered by Chief Terry’s tone. “I’ve already been out once today, for your information.”

  Chief Terry was instantly on alert. “You have? We didn’t get any fresh snow last night.”

  “That doesn’t mean there wasn’t snow out there to move around, especially at a certain town busybody’s house.” Aunt Tillie wisely shifted her eyes so she didn’t have to meet Chief Terry’s steady gaze. “So … what does everyone have planned for today?”

  I pursed my lips to keep from laughing as I spared a glance at Landon. He seemed unnaturally solemn, which threw me for a loop. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Landon immediately started shaking his head. “I was just thinking about what Terry said. He’s right. You need to be careful.”

  “I’m not a college student,” I reminded him. “Our killer clearly has a type.”

  “He does, but that doesn’t mean he won’t take advantage of a situation,” Landon pointed out. “I won’t tell you not to look into this – mostly because I know it will be a waste of breath because you’re emotionally invested thanks to finding the bodies – but I want you to be careful.”

  I took pity on him and nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Be really careful.”

  “I’m always really careful.”

  Landon rolled his eyes. “Be ten times more careful than that.”

  Six

  I went to the newspaper office after breakfast – mostly because I was curious if Brian would be around – but the building was empty. I’m a busybody of sorts (hey, it’s a family trait) so I meandered down the hallway that housed his office and peered inside.

  The room was a wreck. He’d shoved furniture in odd places, old newspapers were tossed about and the desk chair was tipped on its side. I wanted to be surprised, but Brian’s devolving attitude had been on full display for weeks. I was mostly surprised he didn’t attempt something similar sooner. I tried not to let my frustration overwhelm me as I scraped up the garbage and righted the chair. I’d need help moving the heavy desk.

  “He had a fit this morning,” Viola announced, appearing in the open doorway and shaking her head. “I thought he was going to give himself a heart attack with the way he was carrying on.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “About what time?”

  “It would’ve been early, right after six I think.”

  That made sense. “We were supposed to close on the sale today. Apparently his real estate agent tried slipping in language that my agent didn’t like, and the closing has been pushed back until tomorrow. That would’ve been about the time my agent sent back the paperwork.”

  “Well, whatever it was, he was not happy.” Viola looked grave. “I think he’s wrapped ver
y tight.”

  That was mildly entertaining coming from her, especially because that’s how most people who met her in life described Viola. “Well … it’s almost done. How did he move this desk without help?” I gave the piece of furniture a nudge with my hip. “It must weigh three-hundred pounds.”

  Viola shrugged. “He put his back into it. There was a lot of swearing, too, for the record.”

  “I’m sorry if it offended you.”

  “Oh, it didn’t offend me.” Viola’s smile was serene. “I like a good bout of cursing. It gets the blood pumping. Of course, I’m dead. Nothing gets my blood pumping any longer.”

  Viola had died right in front of me months ago – the blood she mentioned splashing across my face as a bullet ripped through her body. I didn’t want to dwell on that. “Yeah, well, I’m still sorry.” I discarded the wrinkled and torn newspapers into the nearest garbage can. “How long ago did he leave?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “Did he say he was coming back?”

  “He didn’t say anything. I was the only one who was here, and it’s not as if he can see me.”

  “True.” I dragged a hand through my hair and shook my head. “One more day. If he comes back, I guess I’ll just leave. I don’t want to be here with him.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  After giving the office another cursory once-over, I left and headed to my office. I sat at my desk, booted the computer and considered my options. Landon had been right when he said I had no intention of backing down when it came to pursuing information about the dead girls. The problem was I wasn’t sure where to start when it came to tracking down information.

  “What do you know about the college in Gaylord?” I asked after a beat.

  “I never went to college.”

  “I know that.” I tugged on my limited patience. “I don’t know much about that specific location. When I went to college it wasn’t an option. It’s a more recent development.”

  “I know a few people at the senior center took classes there,” Viola said, hovering in such a way that she looked as if she was sitting in the chair across from my desk. “I don’t think it was a real college.”