“Huh,” Thistle mused, rolling the idea through her mind. “She has a point.”
“Did you just explain something?” Landon asked, frustrated. “Patty is dead. Aunt Tillie doesn’t need to protect her any longer.”
“And that’s probably why she went to Patty’s house to talk to her,” I said. “Think about it. They hadn’t spoken in years, at least as far as we can tell. They had a falling out over a guy, this Victor dude. Aunt Tillie knows something about that situation. I think she went to see Patty because she wanted permission to let the cat out of the bag. She didn’t get a chance to ask, though.”
“Okay, let’s say that’s true,” Landon said. “Why can’t this Victor tell us the secret?”
“Because he’s muddled and lost in his own mind,” I answered. “He thought Clove was Aunt Tillie and was happy to see her, but then he got confused and claimed he didn’t know a Patty or Tillie. If he ever knew the secret – and I’m not sure he did – he doesn’t remember it.”
“Well, I guess that brings us to the elephant in the room,” Landon said. “I didn’t want to bring this up, but I don’t see a way around it. What were you doing at Viola’s house yesterday?”
My cheeks burned as I felt his eyes land on me. “Oh. Well … .”
“Oh, it’s not like he’s going to arrest you, Bay,” Thistle grumbled. “We broke in because Mrs. Gunderson told Bay that Viola wrote everything in journals. When we cast the truth spell on Viola she couldn’t remember. She wasn’t lying. She simply forgot the information we needed.
“We broke into the house to read the diaries,” she continued. “We knew Viola would be at the senior center for hours – and I’m still not sure why she came back early – and we thought we could find information in her diaries.”
“I see.” Landon’s face was unreadable. “What did you find?”
“Well, for starters, we found Viola has a clown fetish that’s utterly disturbing.”
“Thistle.” Landon’s voice was full of warning. “Get to the point.”
“Oh, trust me, the clown fetish is part of the point,” Thistle said. “It’s a really disturbing point, but it’s still important. No one with a clown fetish can be trusted. Anyway, the diaries bounced all over the place.”
“There were a lot of vague references to Mrs. Little wanting something from Aunt Tillie, and Victor possibly stalking Aunt Tillie after she broke his heart,” I offered. “There was nothing concrete in them.”
“We only made it through about a quarter of them before Viola came home and surprised us,” Thistle said. “We hopped out the window, but she caught us. We were apologizing and asking her for the truth when … well … she was shot.”
“Okay,” Landon said, lightly pressing his lips to my cheek as he considered the new information. “You guys are jerks for breaking into an old woman’s home. Given how things turned out, though, I’ll let it go. You’ve been punished enough.”
“Oh, thank you,” Thistle said, making an outrageous face.
“Do you remember seeing anything when you walked up to the house?” Landon asked. “Did anyone seem out of place? Did anyone stare at you?”
“We entered from the back yard, but we didn’t see anyone on the street,” I said. “We didn’t see – or sense – anyone. We thought we were safe.”
“You’re safe,” Landon said, squeezing my waist. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“Everything we have leads us in the same circle,” Thistle said. “The problem is the circle is shrinking. The only people left in it are Mrs. Little and Aunt Tillie.”
“And Victor,” I said. “He can’t help us, though.”
“Well, now Aunt Tillie is really going to spill her guts,” Landon said. “We’re out of options.” He pushed me to a standing position and struggled to join me. “Everyone get cleaned up and dressed. We’re going to the inn for breakfast … and it’s not going to be pretty.”
“So, it’s a normal day?” Thistle challenged.
“Not even close.”
Twenty-Nine
Landon kept me close during the walk to the inn, his fingers laced with mine and his eyes alert. It wasn’t until we arrived that I realized why. “You’re worried someone is following me, aren’t you?”
Landon refused to make eye contact. “I think it’s a beautiful morning and love the landscaping here.”
“You’re lying.”
“Get inside, Bay,” Landon ordered, giving me a small shove through the door. He double-checked the lock before glancing around the family’s private living room. On a normal morning Aunt Tillie would be telling the news show personalities how much she hated them and to get a real job. She was conspicuously absent.
“She’s hiding,” Thistle said, shaking her head. “She knows she’s in big trouble when Landon finds her.”
“I can’t tell whether you’re being funny or obnoxious,” Landon said. “Either way, you’re right. Come on.”
I expected to find my mother and aunts toiling over the stove in the kitchen. It was empty, though, the lingering scent of bacon remaining to tip us off that breakfast was cooked and maybe already served.
“Did she give my bacon to someone else?” Landon was outraged as he released my hand and strode toward the dining room door. “That is just … rude!”
Thistle and I exchanged a look and somehow managed to keep from laughing as we followed Landon into the dining room. Because he came to an abrupt stop on the other side of the door I slammed into him, ruefully rubbing my chin as I stopped myself before tipping to the side. “Walk much?”
“Director Newton,” Landon said, his voice low. “I … what are you doing here?”
Uh-oh. I recognized the name. Steve Newton was Landon’s boss at the Traverse City office. I peered around Landon’s shoulder and locked gazes with the man sitting at the table. He had a full plate of food in front of him, and aunts on either side entertaining him.
Steve offered me a heartfelt smile before shifting his gaze back to Landon. “I’m eating breakfast, Michaels,” he said. “You should recognize the action because I believe you do the same thing under this very roof five days a week.”
“Four,” Landon corrected, slipping his hand around my wrist as he led me toward our regular spot at the table. Despite his surprise – and the worry I knew he would later deny – he took the time to fix Aunt Tillie with a dark look as we passed. “Aunt Tillie.”
“Landon,” Aunt Tillie replied, her face unreadable.
Clove and Sam sat further down the table. The smile Clove shot me was nervous but encouraging. “You look much better today.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Hey, Sam. You haven’t been around much.”
“I’ve been busy buying that tanker I wanted,” he said. “It arrives this afternoon. When you get a chance – um, all of you – we should have a party night and then Thistle can tell us her grand plans for decorating it.”
Sam clearly had no idea the depths of what he’d unwittingly walked into, but he understood that a calm voice was probably warranted.
“That sounds good,” I said, flashing him a thankful smile. “I’m glad to see you. I’m a little surprised, though. I thought you would keep Clove locked up at the Dandridge all day after what happened.”
“She insisted on seeing you,” Sam replied. “I feel the need to stick close to her so … here we are.”
“Yes, and we’re all tickled to have you here,” Aunt Tillie said, making a face.
“I’d keep my mouth shut if I were you,” Landon warned, reaching for the juice carafe.
“Well, you’re not me,” Aunt Tillie shot back.
“What’s your problem?” Thistle asked, settling next to Clove. “Are you still glum because Winnie spanked you with a wooden spoon? It’s not as funny when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”
Aunt Tillie scowled. “Listen, mouth, I know you’re feeling full of yourself because you think I’m in trouble, but I’m still your elder,” she said. “Besides, I n
ever smacked you with wooden spoons.”
“That’s true,” Clove said, digging into her eggs and hash browns. “She used a flyswatter.”
“It still hurt,” Thistle groused.
“It definitely hurt,” I agreed, accepting my glass of tomato juice from Landon with a tight smile. “I … um … Mr. Newton, I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“I think you’re supposed to call him Director Newton,” Thistle offered. “Otherwise he’ll probably throw you in jail.”
Steve chuckled, taking everyone by surprise. “I see the stories about the Winchester bonding rituals weren’t an exaggeration,” he said. “That’s nice. I’m happy to meet you, too, Bay. You’re all Landon talks about.”
“Really?” Is it wrong that makes me feel special? Okay, given the circumstances it’s wrong. I know that. It still feels good.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Landon said, reaching for the platter of toast. “I have a boring life otherwise.”
“That’s not true,” Steve said. “He talks glowingly about everyone here. He thinks of you as family, and I understand why. This place has a warm quality about it.”
“He talks glowingly about everyone?” Thistle challenged.
Steve chuckled. “You’re Thistle, right?”
Thistle nodded, surprised to be singled out.
“Landon says you’re very strong and witty,” Steve said. “He also says you’re a talented artist.”
“Oh, well, now I’m hot for you again, Landon,” Thistle teased, earning a rib poke from Marcus. He didn’t look particularly perturbed, though. “What about Aunt Tillie? He can’t possibly say nice things about her.”
“I don’t want him to say nice things about me,” Aunt Tillie countered. “If the fuzz liked me I’d be doing something wrong.”
I risked a glance at Landon’s boss and found him beaming at Aunt Tillie. If I didn’t know better I’d think someone slipped real hash into his morning potatoes.
“You’re exactly how Landon described you,” Steve said. “You’re mouthy, funny and a terrific conversationalist.”
I cast a sidelong look in Landon’s direction. “Did you really say that?”
“Not even close.”
Steve cleared his throat as he directed his attention to Landon. “I suppose you know why I’m here.”
“I do,” Landon acknowledged, his shoulders stiff. “If you would like a private area to talk we can go to the front library.”
“I … .”
My heart rolled and my mouth took advantage of Steve’s pause to interject what I thought would be a glowing tribute. “You can’t fire Landon,” I said. “He was upset yesterday. He didn’t mean to yell at Agent Goober. It’s not Landon’s fault that guy could start his own race of idiot tools. You can’t punish him for something that was out of his control.” That came out all wrong. Is it too late for a do-over?
“Wait … what?” Steve looked legitimately confused.
“Bay, that’s really not necessary,” Landon said.
The damage was already done.
“Fire him?” Mom narrowed her eyes. “You can’t seriously be considering firing him. That’s outrageous!”
“And stupid,” Marnie said. “He’s a great FBI agent. He’s saved countless lives. Bay almost died yesterday. He acted as a loving human being. If he gets in trouble for that, well, then you’re a butthead.”
“Oh, no,” Landon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stared at his plate.
“You’re the king of buttheads if you fire him,” Twila added, her face twisting into an unhappy grimace. “That’s just … terrible. Only a horrible person would do that. I can’t believe I gave you seconds on the homemade toast.”
Steve shifted his attention to Aunt Tillie. “Do you want to weigh in, too?”
“No,” I said hurriedly, shaking my head. I truly feared she would tell Steve to fire Landon. If my family hadn’t already ensured that, Aunt Tillie would drive home the final nail.
“Yes,” Aunt Tillie said, flashing me a challenging look. “You may think Landon was wrong not to follow the rules. As a rule follower, I understand the inclination to want to beat into submission those who don’t do as they’re supposed to.
“Believe you me, I’ve wanted to do a lot of beating over the course of my life,” she continued. “I helped raise six girls. Six! Every single one of them is mouthy, opinionated, far too involved in everyone else’s business and altogether annoying when I’m trying to watch Jeopardy.”
“I see.” I didn’t know Steve well – or at all – but for some reason I got the distinct impression he was fighting the urge to smile.
“They’re also loyal,” Aunt Tillie said. “They all have good hearts. I wasn’t sure about Landon when he first showed up. I thought he was a braggart and possibly bad news for Bay. I thought she deserved better.”
“Thanks,” Landon said dryly.
“I’m not finished,” Aunt Tillie said. “I was … wrong.”
All eyes zeroed in on Aunt Tillie, dumbfounded disbelief washing over the room.
“Can you repeat that?” Thistle asked. “Actually, can you wait until I get my phone out to record it and then repeat it?”
Aunt Tillie ignored her. “I’m very rarely wrong, Mr. Newton,” she said. “I was wrong about Landon, though. He’s gone out of his way to protect Bay every chance he gets. He loves her with his whole heart. If he said something bad to the other agent – who is a righteous moron, mind you – then the other agent had it coming.
“Bay could’ve easily died yesterday,” she continued. “This family doesn’t deal well with things like that. You can’t expect Landon to simply pat Bay on the head after she was almost killed and then whistle a jaunty tune as he walks away.”
“Just for the record, sir, I never whistle a jaunty tune,” Landon offered.
Steve’s laughter caught everyone off guard, his shoulders shaking as he bent over the table. “I can see why you love this family so much, Michaels,” he said. “They’re … hilarious.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” Aunt Tillie sniffed.
“I know you weren’t,” Steve said. “None of you have to worry. Landon is not losing his job. He’s not even in trouble.”
“I’m not?” Landon raised an eyebrow, exhaling heavily. It was only then that I realized he had expected the worst. “Why are you here if I’m not in trouble?”
“Because someone has to rein in Agent Glenn,” Steve said. “I knew he was headstrong when I hired him. His tests were off the charts, but he has poor personal skills. The higher ups thought a more rural area would do him good. I think they might’ve been wrong.
“I don’t condone what Agent Glenn has done,” he said. “I heard an earful from Chief Davenport when I got him on the phone. He can’t stand him.”
“That’s because he’s a douche,” Thistle intoned, earning a delighted smile from Steve.
“I like you. You’re feisty.”
“We’re all feisty,” Mom said. “We’re also exhausted and worried. This situation has taken a toll on all of us.”
“I understand that,” Steve said. “Bay was lucky yesterday, and you’re all thankful because of it. You’re also worried because people are dropping left and right around here, and this is a small town.”
“We’re hoping to narrow the possibilities today,” Landon said, sliding a pointed look in Aunt Tillie’s direction. “Agent Glenn has been gung-ho about collecting evidence, but he’s fixated on certain people being guilty. I think he’s wrong.”
“You mean his theory that Tillie here killed the first woman, and Bay and her cousins killed the other two, right?”
Landon scowled. “I should’ve known he would float that theory to you,” he said. “He’s barking up the wrong tree. Bay, Clove and Thistle couldn’t have been where the shooter was yesterday, and none of them were armed the night of Fay Reynolds’ death. I swear to you that they’re innocent.”
>
“I don’t believe they’re guilty,” Steve said. “You have terrific instincts, Michaels. I’ve only had one meal with the Winchesters, and I can say with absolute certainty that while I think they’re quirky, I don’t think they’re murderers.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Clove said. “Worrying about going to prison for a crime I didn’t commit was giving me heartburn.”
“Yes, that’s the true travesty in all of this,” Thistle deadpanned.
Steve chuckled. “Seriously, I love this family.” He glanced at Landon. “Do you want to stay on this case? You have accrued vacation time. If you would prefer spending time with Bay after what happened, I understand.”
“I’m staying on the case,” Landon said, moving his hand to the back of my neck. “I’m saving the vacation time for when Bay and I can go away together. We’re getting close here. I can feel it. I don’t want to be cut out now.”
“Tell me what you have,” Steve prodded. “I talked to Chief Davenport this morning. He believes the shooter made an easy shot, which would seem to denote that no special skills were needed other than a basic knowledge of hunting. We’re not dealing with a professional.”
“I originally thought it had to be a woman,” Landon said. “Poisoning someone is typically a woman’s way to murder, and Patty Grimes was poisoned.”
“That makes sense,” Steve said, grabbing another slice of toast. “Did you feel the same way after the second victim died?”
Landon nodded. “Fay was in the women’s bathroom at the senior center,” he said. “Only two men were present. They were the most popular people there. Someone would’ve noticed them going into the women’s bathroom.”
“Okay,” Steve said. “I agree with your reasoning. Most women don’t use a gun to shoot someone from a tree perch, though.”
“They don’t,” Landon agreed. “And most senior citizens would be incapable of climbing a tree to shoot a gun.”
Charms & Witchdemeanors (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 8) Page 27