Every Witch Way But Wicked (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery)

by Lee, Amanda M.

  The Hemlock Cove Police Department is small, only a couple of rooms and a small reception area. I greeted Greta, the office secretary, when I entered the office. She was used to my visits so she didn’t even try to stop me when I wandered into the back hallway that led to Chief Terry’s office.

  I navigated the narrow hall and opened Chief Terry’s office door without knocking. I figured he would be expecting me.

  I pulled up short when I found Landon sitting in one of the chairs across from Chief Terry’s desk. He seemed surprised to see me in the doorway. “Don’t you knock?”

  “I didn’t know you were in here,” I said sheepishly. I couldn’t help but notice that Landon didn’t look like he’d been home – or gotten any sleep. He was dressed in the same clothes he’d been wearing the night before and he had pronounced dark circles under his eyes.

  “”You just let her wander in here?” Landon was talking to Chief Terry, but he was looking at me.

  “She doesn’t do well with the word no,” Chief Terry said tiredly. “No one in her family does.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Landon grumbled.

  I ignored Landon’s obvious sarcasm and sat down in the other chair. I turned to Chief Terry expectantly. “So what do we know?”

  “We know that you aren’t a part of this investigation,” Landon interjected shortly.

  “No one is talking to you,” I shot back. “Do we have any idea who stabbed Myron?”

  “He’s not going to answer that,” Landon said.

  “We don’t know who,” Chief Terry said. “The autopsy is being performed in about an hour. We’ll know more then.”

  “Why are you telling her that?” Landon looked perplexed.

  “Why not?”

  “She’s a reporter,” Landon pointed out.

  “She’s a reporter for a weekly,” Chief Terry shot back. “Even if she wanted to print something about the murder, the paper doesn’t come out for days. Calm down.”

  Landon looked flabbergasted. “So you just tell her whatever she wants to know?”

  Chief Terry shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “Well, now that I’m the lead on this case, I’m going to have to ask you not to share information with the press,” Landon said smartly.

  “You’re the lead on the case?”

  “That surprises you?” Landon raised his eyebrows in my direction. I was starting to rethink his ability to separate me from my panties on the spot. His dismissive attitude didn’t exactly endear him to me.

  “I don’t understand why you’re even involved,” I countered.

  “I’m an FBI agent.”

  “And this is a local issue. And, as you can see, we have a local police chief that is perfectly capable of conducting an investigation all by himself,” I said, gesturing to Chief Terry. “You don’t need help, do you?”

  “I . . . “

  “Who are you to tell him he doesn’t need help?” Landon charged back. “When did you become an expert in crime solving?”

  “I’m not an expert,” I replied. “But Chief Terry is. We don’t need you.”

  “Obviously you do. Besides, I was the first one on the scene, and that’s always an edge when it comes to solving a crime.”

  “You were on the scene for like thirty seconds before Chief Terry,” I argued.

  “Hey! Before is before.”

  “If you two are done verbally copulating, we have a dead man to investigate,” Chief Terry interjected irritably.

  I glared in Chief Terry’s direction. “Oh, now you’re on his side?”

  “I’m not on anyone’s side, especially not his,” Chief Terry said. “I don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. “

  I opened my mouth to argue further but Chief Terry held up his hand to stop me. “We have twice the number of people in this town than we usually have, and I’m going to need help. I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

  I couldn’t hide my frown, even though I could see where Chief Terry was coming from. This was going to make my job so much harder than usual. I didn’t want to have to go to Landon for information. That would give him leverage – and I wasn’t sure I wanted him having leverage over me at this point in time.

  “It was obviously someone with ties to the town,” I offered.

  “How do you figure?” Landon asked blithely.

  “Why would a stranger want to kill the town drunk?”

  “Why would someone from the town want to kill him?” Landon countered.

  “At least he has ties to the people in the town,” I argued. “The town works overtime to keep him away from the tourists.”

  “You know a lot about Myron Grisham. Maybe we should consider you a suspect?” Landon’s suggestion was biting.

  “Maybe we should. Or maybe we should consider you a suspect?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The last time we had a dead body you were knee deep in it. The minute you come back to town we have another dead body. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  “Hey, you were knee deep in the last dead body, too,” Landon pointed out. “And you brought your entire family to a cornfield in the middle of the night, for some reason. You still haven’t explained that, by the way.”

  I turned to Chief Terry for help, but his head was buried in his hands and he was rubbing his scalp like he had a killer migraine. I didn’t blame him. Landon and I were taking immaturity to a whole new level. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “I’m not really interested in playing psychologist for the two of you right now,” Chief Terry replied. “I don’t think I’m qualified.”

  I rolled my eyes in Chief Terry’s direction. “I can’t believe you’re not standing up for me. Or my family. My mom and aunts are going to be so disappointed.” Dirty, I know. I’m not above pulling the family card, though.

  “You wouldn’t,” Chief Terry warned.

  “If you try to keep me out of this case, I most definitely would,” I shot back. “No warm dinners for you in the immediate future, I can promise that.”

  Chief Terry sighed. “We won’t keep you out of the case.”

  “We won’t?” Landon looked stunned. “Why? Because she threatened to tell her mommy?”

  “She could provide valuable help,” Chief Terry said. “And don’t say anything negative about her mother.”

  “How?”

  “She’s just . . . very, very good at what she does,” Chief Terry replied.

  Chief Terry was well aware of the rumors that floated around town about my family. He had never come right out and asked me if we had special abilities, but he had taken me to a crime scene or two. I think he knew that there was something different about me – and Clove and Thistle, for that matter – but he either didn’t want to know or was scared to know what that something special was.

  I shot Landon a victorious smile and got to my feet. “I’ll check in this afternoon after you get the autopsy results.”

  With those words, I flounced out of the office without a backwards glance.

  “I can’t wait,” Landon grumbled.

  Thirteen

  After leaving the police department, I went to The Whistler to do some research. Edith and William were waiting in my office for me – and the parking lot was empty – so I figured Brian hadn’t made it into work yet.

  “What’s up?”

  “We heard that Myron was killed last night,” William said. If a ghost could look pale – paler than usual, that is -- I would think that William was about to pass out. He looked shaken, for lack of a better word.

  “Yeah, he was found behind the town square with a knife sticking out of his stomach,” I said. “Right by the library.”

  “Do they know who did it?” Edith had been a ghost for decades. She had no idea who Myron was, I didn’t think but she did like to gossip with the best of them.

  “Not yet,” I said.

  “They didn’t see anyone around?” William asked.

  “No.”


  “How do they know it wasn’t an accident? Or suicide?”

  “I don’t know anyone that accidentally shoves a huge hunting knife in their own stomach, or chooses that way to commit suicide. There’s got to be a better way than that to go.”

  “That’s horrible,” William shuddered a heavy sigh.

  I turned to William curiously. “Did you know Myron well?”

  William looked uncomfortable. “Of course I knew him. Everyone in town knew him. He was a good boy before he went off to that war and it ruined him.”

  That made sense, but there was something weird about William’s reaction to Myron’s death. I just couldn’t decide why he cared so much. I wracked my brain for memories of William and Myron together. All I could come up with, though, was William giving Myron a place to sleep a handful of times. Given the fact that Myron was usually drunk, though, that statement could be applied to any number of the town’s denizens on a regular basis.

  “It’s sad,” I said finally. “I didn’t know Myron well. He just seemed like a really sad guy.”

  “He was sad,” William said.

  I wanted to question William further, but I heard the front door of the office open. I wasn’t surprised to see Brian at my open office door within a minute. “So, what did you find out about the dead guy?”

  “His name was Myron,” William growled at his oblivious grandson.

  “They’re not doing the autopsy on Myron until sometime this morning,” I said, trying not to stare at William to see his reaction. “We’ll know more this afternoon.”

  Brian looked disappointed. “Does it usually take this long to do an autopsy?”

  “We share a coroner with three other towns,” I explained.

  “Why?”

  “We don’t have enough suspicious deaths to warrant keeping our own on the payroll.”

  “That makes sense,” Brian said finally. He still looked a little disappointed – which bugged the crap out of me.

  I looked up at him expectantly. “Is there something else I can help you with?”

  “Huh?” Brian clearly had trouble with knowing when he wasn’t wanted. “Oh, no. Go back to work. I’ll be in my office fixing things up if you need me.”

  Once Brian left, I Googled Myron on my laptop. I wasn’t surprised with what I came up with. There were a few articles about his track prowess from his high school days – and even an article about him returning to Hemlock Cove after the war. After that, though, there was nothing.

  Even though Myron had been something of an embarrassment for the town, he had never been arrested and didn’t have a criminal record. Since he was technically homeless, I had once heard he had a small shack out by the Black Creek – a small tributary of the Hollow Creek -- but I had never seen it. There weren’t any property records either. He obviously didn’t have a Facebook or Twitter account.

  After a couple hours of fruitless searching, I left the office and made my way down to Hypnotic. Clove and Thistle were busy helping customers when I entered, so I kept silent while I waited for them to finish up.

  Clove could read minds – or rather she could read auras and sense what people were feeling – so she was the resident “psychic.” Basically, she read tarot cards and told visitors what they wanted to hear. She was busy helping a young couple now – and they couldn’t help marveling at the wonder of her insight.

  “I am a total nurturer,” the young woman gushed. “You’re amazing.”

  Thistle was behind the counter helping a woman load up on homemade candles and power crystals. After about twenty minutes, it was just the three of us in the store.

  “Did you find out anything about Myron?” Thistle asked.

  “Not much. They won’t have the autopsy results until this afternoon at the earliest. More likely tomorrow morning,” I replied.

  “Did Chief Terry tell you anything else?”

  “He’s not in charge of the case,” I said dubiously.

  “He’s not? Who is? The state police?” Clove looked angry. None of us liked it when the state came in to take over an investigation. We were all loyal to Chief Terry – even if I did threaten to cut off his food supply.

  “No, Landon,” I said bitterly.

  Thistle smirked. “He took over the case? Why?”

  “Because he wants to torture me.”

  “Or because he wants a reason to be in town and stay near you.” Clove has a romantic streak that borders on sweet – or annoying.

  “I doubt that’s it.”

  “Really? Because he’s heading this way.”

  I looked up to see Thistle gazing out of the window at the front of the store. I refused to look. “Very funny.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “You’re just trying to get back at me for this morning.”

  I heard the front door of the store open; marked by the wind chimes they had strategically placed there, and felt my stomach drop to my feet. There was no way she was telling the truth. Was there?

  I kept telling myself not to give her the satisfaction of turning around, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from doing just that. It was a like a power that was bigger than me had suddenly taken control of my body

  “I figured I’d find you here,” Landon greeted me. He walked around the side of the couch and plopped down next to me. “I’m assuming you were telling your cousins about this morning.”

  “We were deciding what we were going to have for lunch,” I lied.

  Landon didn’t look like he believed me, but he let it go. “Great. I’m starved.”

  I grimaced. “No one invited you to lunch,” I pointed out.

  “Do you like Middle Eastern?” Thistle asked, shooting me a triumphant look. This was her payback. I was going to make her eat a whole mud pie later, I swear.

  “I love Middle Eastern,” Landon said warmly. “Can you order me a chicken shawarma and fattoush salad?”

  “Sure,” Thistle said, turning to me. “You want your usual?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled.

  Landon waited for Thistle to place the order and join the rest of us before he started talking again. “So, what can you guys tell me about Myron Grisham?”

  “Don’t help him,” I warned Thistle and Clove. “He’s out to get Chief Terry. Don’t forget that.”

  If Thistle and Clove were anxious to help Landon initially, my warning reminded them of their loyalty to Chief Terry. They both snapped their mouths shut grimly.

  Landon shot me a disgusted look. “Nice. I’m not out to get Chief Terry,” Landon explained simply. “I’m helping Chief Terry. He’s the one that explained just that to Bay this morning.”

  Thistle looked me up and down. “Is that true?”

  “Who are you going to believe?”

  “You answered a question with a question,” Clove pointed out. “You always said that was a sign that someone was lying.”

  I glared at Clove pointedly. She pretended she didn’t notice. “What do you want to know?”

  “What have you got?”

  “Not much,” Thistle admitted.

  “I thought everyone in this town knew everything about everyone else?”

  “That’s true, but Myron was . . . Myron was different,” Clove finished lamely.

  “How?”

  “He was like a local track hero in high school,” Thistle started. “That was before we were born. He was kind of a local celebrity, though. He was the only athlete we ever had that qualified for the state playoffs in anything.”

  Landon listened quietly. I couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t interrupt Thistle like he regularly interrupted me.

  “He went to college on some sort of scholarship,” Thistle continued. “He was gone for like five years and then he came back to town for a couple of years. I have no idea what he did during that time. I think he owned a business or something, but I’m not really sure.”

  “Chief Terry said he owned a restaurant,” Landon interjected.

  “
Really?” Thistle seemed surprised. “I can’t imagine letting him around food, but okay, I believe you.”

  “What else?”

  “He joined the Army after that. He was in Desert Storm. When he came back, he started drinking and he never really stopped.”

  “Desert Storm?” Landon looked surprised. “Wasn’t he in his late fifties?”

  “Yeah,” Clove looked nonplussed. “I think he went to school with my mom and aunts.”

  “Well, that would have made him in his thirties during Desert Storm,” Landon pointed out.

  “So?”

  “It’s just that most people don’t join the Army when they’re in their thirties,” Landon said.

  Huh, I had never really thought about that. “So why would he join the Army in his thirties?”

  “I have no idea,” Landon shrugged.

  Thistle was chewing her lip when I looked up. I knew that meant she had remembered something, but she was trying to decide if she should say it in front of Landon.

  “What?”

  “It’s just . . . “ Thistle broke off.

  “What?”

  “I think he used to date Marnie,” she said finally.

  “Now that you mention it, I think you’re right,” I admitted.

  “Who is Marnie?” Landon looked confused.

  “My mom,” Clove answered.

  “Your mom used to date the deceased?”

  “Not recently,” Clove explained. “I think it was before he went off to the war.”

  “You’re saying your mom drove a man to enlist in the Army?” Landon was going for levity; I couldn’t help but feel annoyed at his comment, though.

  “I don’t think it was that,” I challenged Landon. Even as I said the words, though, I couldn’t be sure that they were true. One look at Thistle and Clove and I could tell they were thinking the same thing. The women in our family were known to drive men to insanity. This wouldn’t be the first time.

  Landon didn’t seem to notice our distraction. “I guess I need to talk to Marnie.”

  Good luck with that.

  “Why don’t you come to dinner tonight,” Thistle offered. “I’m sure she’d be happy to talk to you. And all the aunts will want to see you after you saved our lives. You’re like a family hero.”