A Breath of Witchy Air

by Amanda M. Lee

  I snorted. “I don’t sashay.”

  “You totally sashay.”

  I ran my fingers over his shoulder one last time and then smoothed his shirt. “It’s pretty bruised, but if I toss some Epsom salts into the bathtub tonight that should make you feel better.”

  “I bet it will, as long as you’re with me.”

  “We’ll see how dinner goes.” I slung my computer bag over my shoulder and turned, pulling up short when I found Ashton in the open doorway watching us, a sloppy grin on his face. “Do you need something?”

  “You guys are so cute,” Ashton cooed with false adoration. “I just want to eat you up.”

  “Keep it up,” Landon warned, strolling through the doorway. “The more you run your mouth, the more likely you are to get smacked around.”

  “You’re hurt,” Ashton pointed out. “You can’t smack me around.”

  “I was talking about Bay. She could take you with one cousin tied behind her back and only minimal interest from Aunt Tillie. There’s no need to be frightened of me – I’m on the disabled list – but Bay is another story.”

  “And Aunt Tillie is a story that deserves her own encyclopedia,” I added.

  “Yeah, what is it with that chick?” Ashton didn’t bother to hide his intrigue as he followed us through the building. “Word on the street is that she sacrifices a virgin every full moon and dances naked in her blood.”

  “She doesn’t sacrifice a virgin,” Landon countered. “She does dance naked … without the blood.”

  Ashton was dumbfounded. “Have you seen her do it?”

  “Sadly, I’ve seen them all do it.”

  “All?” Ashton furrowed his brow. “Wait … are you saying all the women in that family get naked and do a woo-woo witch dance under the full moon? Have you actually seen them do it? Seriously, don’t hold out on me, man.”

  Landon slid me a sidelong look. “Not all of them. Just two generations.”

  “Which generations?” Ashton’s gaze was speculative when it landed on me. “Do you get naked under the full moon?”

  I exhaled heavily. “I can’t wait until this case is over.”

  Landon chuckled. “Sweetie, I don’t think you understand. It’s a compliment when people picture you naked.”

  “Would you be saying that if Steven was doing the imagining?”

  Landon’s smile slipped. “Don’t go there.”

  “Yeah, forget about Steven,” Ashton enthused. “Focus on me. Can I see this naked dancing? I don’t think I’ll believe it’s true if I don’t see it with my own eyes.”

  “Ugh. I’m so glad you brought this up, Landon,” I complained. “Now we’ll never hear the end of it.”

  “Live and learn.”

  MOM BOASTED A BROOM and a scowl when we let ourselves through the front door of The Overlook twenty minutes later.

  “Are you flying away on that?” Landon asked as I helped him out of his coat.

  “No. I’m looking for Aunt Tillie.” Mom’s eyes blazed. “If you see her, tell her I’m looking for her and if she tries to run it will only make matters worse.”

  I watched with amazement as Mom turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. “Wow! Aunt Tillie must’ve dusted off her ‘I’m going to give you an ulcer’ attitude or something. I haven’t seen Mom like this since the great zombie book debacle a few months ago.”

  “What’s the zombie book debacle?” Ashton asked, stomping his feet on the rug as he entered behind us.

  I couldn’t very well tell Ashton that Aunt Tillie cursed my mother and aunts into a zombie book to keep them out of her hair without looking like a loon, so I was forced to think of a lie on the fly. “Aunt Tillie wrote a zombie book and insisted on reading it aloud during meals this summer even though we all die violently in it.”

  “Oh, well, that sounds fun.” Ashton lifted his nose and inhaled. “What is that heavenly smell?”

  “It’s my aftershave,” Aunt Tillie announced, appearing in the hallway between the lobby and library. She looked as if she was up to something – which wasn’t unusual because she was always up to something – but I could read the mischief flitting across her features.

  “You don’t use aftershave,” Ashton pointed out. “You’re a woman. It’s called perfume.”

  “I have hairs the size of your arm growing out of my chin,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I use aftershave. The scent lasts longer.”

  I shook my head as Ashton frowned. “Mom is looking for you.”

  “She found me. Everything is fine.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “She was in here, like, thirty seconds ago looking for you,” I argued. “You couldn’t have made up that quickly.”

  “We made up.” Aunt Tillie’s tone was firm. “She simply doesn’t realize it.”

  “Whatever.” I waved off the comment before pulling off my coat. “I need to talk to you about a few things before dinner. Is now a good time?”

  Instead of being flattered or immediately acquiescing, Aunt Tillie turned suspicious. “Did your mother bribe you to isolate me?”

  “No. I thought you guys made up. Isn’t that what you just told me?”

  “I can’t recall.” Aunt Tillie brushed her ragged fingernails against the front of her shirt and avoided my gaze. “I’m old and forgetful. I can’t be expected to remember everything at my age.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I slid my eyes to Landon. “I need to handle a few things. I’ll meet you in the dining room in a few minutes.”

  Landon risked a dubious look at Aunt Tillie. “Are you sure? I can wait for you.”

  “I’m sure.” I forced a smile for Ashton’s benefit. “Take your little buddy in the other room so we don’t have to worry about him saying something sexist.”

  “Oh, geez.” Ashton rolled his eyes. “I said one minimally sexist thing that I didn’t mean and you just won’t let it go. I mean … get over it. I’m a good guy. Heck, I’m an FBI agent. That means I’m a good guy by virtue of my job.”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I drawled.

  “I’ll take him,” Landon supplied. “Don’t be gone long. It makes me nervous.”

  “Because there’s a killer on the loose?”

  “Because you guys putting your heads together and plotting gives me indigestion,” Landon explained. “I’ll save you a seat at the table.”

  “I’ll be eternally grateful for that.” I watched him go with a mixture of fondness and relief, waiting until I was sure he was out of earshot to pick Aunt Tillie’s evil brain. “What do you know about ghosts acting in tandem?”

  Whatever she was expecting, that wasn’t it. Aunt Tillie arched an eyebrow and shrugged as the question sank in. “I’ll need more information than that.”

  I told her about my visit with the ghosts, and when I was done she looked legitimately flummoxed.

  “And they all moved simultaneously?”

  I nodded. “They seemed to be communicating telepathically on some level. I don’t know how to explain it other than to say it was really weird.”

  “It sounds weird.” Aunt Tillie tapped her bottom lip as she considered the conundrum. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard or seen anything like that. We’re sure they didn’t die all at once?”

  “Pretty sure. Time of death has been hard for the medical examiner to pin down because the bodies were frozen. They assume the women died relatively close to the times they disappeared, which put them a full twenty-four hours apart.”

  “Twenty-four hours exactly?”

  “I don’t know. Is that important?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a weird coincidence that perhaps he was killing on a timetable,” Aunt Tillie said. “I’ve never heard of ghosts acting like that. From what you described, it seems as if they’re somehow muted, too. Ghosts shouldn’t be all that different from their living counterparts.”

  “That’s what I thought until I saw the scene by the highway. They were definitely weird.”

 
; “I don’t know what to tell you.” Aunt Tillie was completely serious. “I’ll look in a few books I have tucked away and place a few calls after dinner if I have time. Maybe someone else knows something.”

  “Who are you going to call?”

  “I have sources.”

  “Who?”

  “I … don’t you worry about it.” Aunt Tillie offered a dismissive wave as she moved toward the dining room. “I have sources, and we’ll figure it out. Don’t get worked up. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

  “Aunt Tillie, there you are!” Mom planted her hands on her hips and glared as we entered the room. “You’ve been hiding from me.”

  “I think you’re mistaken.” Aunt Tillie was calm as she took her spot at the head of the table. “I’ve been around the entire time. You must have just missed me.”

  “I didn’t miss you. You were hiding.”

  “That’s a vicious lie.” Aunt Tillie made a clicking sound with her tongue as she poured herself a glass of wine. “To think you’d say anything of the sort about your aunt. I mean … I practically raised you.”

  “Oh, stuff it.” Mom was clearly at the edge of no return. She had no interest in playing Aunt Tillie’s games. “Guess who I got a call from while I was trying to decorate the cake.”

  “There’s cake?” Landon perked up. “What kind?”

  “Chocolate,” Mom answered. “I was going to make red velvet, too, but I ran out of time because of the call I received.”

  “Chocolate is fine with me.” Landon swung his head back and forth, as if he were dancing to a song only he could hear. “I freaking love chocolate cake.”

  Mom shot him a fond smile. “I thought it would make you feel better.”

  “It definitely does.”

  “I prefer peanut butter frosting on my chocolate cake,” Aunt Tillie announced out of nowhere.

  “When I’m worried about making you feel better, I’ll keep that in mind,” Mom said dryly. “Right now I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about what Jenna Doherty told me when she called. Do you have any idea what that might be?”

  Aunt Tillie was the queen of deflection. “No. Did I mention I’m old and can’t remember things? I think I might be coming down with dementia.”

  “You’re going to come down with a severe case of something else – something to do with having your phone shut off – if you’re not careful,” Mom warned. “I told you that threatening the neighborhood kids so they would give you game stuff was not allowed.”

  Aunt Tillie adopted an innocent expression that would’ve worked on anyone who didn’t know her. “I didn’t threaten the Doherty boy. I don’t even know his name.”

  “I think it’s Pete,” Twila volunteered.

  “I think it’s Paul,” Marnie countered.

  “It’s Philip, but he hates that name and has decided to go by the street moniker ‘Lil Pip,’” Aunt Tillie corrected. “He’s the first ‘Lil’ anything in Hemlock Cove, and he’s very excited about it.”

  “But you don’t know him,” Landon said dryly.

  “I don’t.” Aunt Tillie recovered quickly. “That was a guess.”

  “Lil Pip.” I couldn’t stop myself from snorting. “Only in Hemlock Cove would that be a thing.”

  “That’s hardly the point, Bay,” Mom snapped. “Your great-aunt has been shaking down the kids in the neighborhood and demanding they supply her with game … thingamabobs … in exchange for protection. The mothers are extremely angry.”

  “So, wait …. .” Landon held up his hand and slid Aunt Tillie a questioning look. “You’re making the kids in the neighborhood pay you to protect them from the video game bullies? How much?”

  “I don’t have set rates. It varies from person to person.”

  “By how much they have to offer?” Ashton asked.

  “By how much I like them and hate the people they’re playing against,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “I think my rates are more than fair given the service I provide.”

  “You’ve only been playing, like, two days,” I pointed out. “How can you have amassed enough power to be a protector?”

  “I’m gifted.”

  “Why else?”

  “I happened to stumble across a rare sword earlier today,” Aunt Tillie replied, her lips curving. “It’s something that had no business being where it was and it was just dumb luck that I stumbled upon it behind The Whistler.”

  “So now you have this sword and you can take on almost anyone.”

  “Pretty much.” Aunt Tillie looked a little too pleased with herself. “No one is forcing those kids to pay for my protection. It’s not as if I’m shaking them down.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed that. Even so, it sounded like Philip Doherty had bigger issues than needing a five-foot-tall witch to protect him in a virtual game world. “It sounds to me like Lil Pip asked for help, got it, and then didn’t want to pay the price. That’s not on Aunt Tillie.”

  “I agree.” Landon scooped up two cod fillets from the platter on the middle of the table. “For once, I don’t think Aunt Tillie has done anything wrong.”

  “Oh, you make me feel so loved,” Aunt Tillie drawled, swiping at an imaginary tear. “I’m practically floating on feelings of love.”

  Landon ignored the sarcasm. “So … where is the cake?”

  “Eat your dinner first,” Mom ordered. “You’re injured. You need to build up your strength.”

  Landon made a face. “The cake would help me build up my strength faster.”

  “After the fish,” Mom snapped.

  “And people think I’m the annoying one in the family,” Aunt Tillie complained. “I’m the only sane one.”

  Sadly, and I would deny it under different circumstances, she was the only one making sense. How freaking ridiculous could things possibly get?

  Twenty-Six

  I drew Landon a bath when we returned to the guesthouse. I was kind of enjoying my role as nurse, although I figured he’d be much better after a good night’s sleep. I dosed the water with Epsom salts and helped him strip before he slid into the water.

  He let loose a satisfied groan as the hot water washed over him and he sank lower so his shoulder could absorb the heat. “This is living.”

  I smirked. “All you’re missing is chocolate cake. I should’ve brought a few slices home so you could eat in the tub.”

  Landon opened one eye and regarded me with a flirty smile. “There’s enough room in here for you.”

  I ran my fingers through the water – it was blisteringly hot and enticing – and ruefully shook my head. “You need to soak for a long time. If I get in we’ll start playing a game and you won’t rest. You need to rest.”

  “I’m not really hurt.”

  “Just kind of hurt?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I still want you to rest.” I kissed his forehead and stood. “I’ll be in the living room. I want to see if I can figure out what was going on with those ghosts. If you spend thirty minutes in here doing what you’re supposed to do – and by that I mean resting and not screwing around – I’ll see what kind of game I can come up with later.”

  “We never did finish the game where you’re the boss and I’m your lowly assistant who needs to be told exactly what to do and when.”

  “We didn’t, did we?”

  Landon’s smile slipped. “I’m sorry this hasn’t been what you expected. I know you had big plans and they’ve fallen by the wayside due to everything that’s going on. You’ll have plenty of time to get to those plans.”

  His serious nature surprised me. “I’m not upset.”

  “You’re too busy to be upset. That doesn’t mean I’m not upset for you.”

  “It’s not that I had big plans,” I hedged. “It’s more that … well … I thought I’d swoop in and take over the office right away. I thought I would get to be important, which I know sounds absolutely ludicrous given everything that’s happening, but I was kind of looking
forward to it.”

  “You’re important to me.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re important to your family.”

  “I know that, too. I just wanted to be the big shot in the building and enjoy the big office for a full day before I had to start looking over my shoulder for killers.”

  Landon’s fingers trailed water as he rubbed his thumb over my cheek. “You’ll get there. I think we’ll start finding answers tomorrow.”

  “I hope so.”

  I left Landon to his bath and booted my laptop in the living room. I heard Landon singing to whatever music he ordered the Amazon Echo to play – I was fairly certain it was some eighties hair band – and started searching several occult websites I was familiar with. I was hoping to get answers about the tandem ghosts, but I couldn’t find anything immediately available, which forced me to delve deeper.

  I was lost in thought, my attention completely on the computer screen, when the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I lifted my chin slowly and scanned the room very deliberately. I expected to find a ghost staring back, perhaps even four of them. I had a distinct feeling I wasn’t alone. The room was empty.

  I cleared my throat to dislodge some of my rising fear and spoke softly. “Are you there?”

  I almost jolted out of my skin when Aunt Tillie moved in at my left, bent low, and whispered. “Who are you talking to?”

  I lashed out and slapped her arm, glaring at the amusement washing across her features as I scrambled to keep my laptop from crashing to the floor. “You scared the crap out of me!”

  “That was the plan.” Aunt Tillie tugged off her scarf and jacket and threw herself on the couch next to me. “What are you looking at?”

  “I’m trying to conduct research on the ghosts. In fact … .” I trailed off, something occurring to me. “How did you get inside? I double-checked all the doors after Landon settled for his bath.”

  Aunt Tillie shifted her eyes to the ajar bathroom door. “Is he naked in there?”

  “What does it matter to you?”

  Aunt Tillie shrugged. “I’m simply curious. It sounds as if he’s singing.”