Landon’s smile turned wolfish as he graced me with a lavish kiss. “You had me at bacon.”
WE WERE GIGGLY by the time we reached The Overlook. The family living quarters were empty, which was to be expected, and when we hit the main dining room we found everyone already eating.
“We weren’t sure you were coming,” Mom said as she eyed us with overt curiosity. “Aunt Tillie made it sound as if you guys would be doing something else.”
I rolled my eyes and shot Aunt Tillie a warning look. “We’re not animals.”
As if to prove me wrong, Landon reached for the meat platter before sitting. “Yum. Bacon.” He shoved two slices in his mouth and proceeded to chew as he poured himself coffee and juice.
“Fine. I’m not an animal,” I corrected, shaking my head.
“Do you want juice, Sweetie?” Landon was oblivious to the show he was putting on.
“That would be great.” I sat across from my mother and snagged her gaze. “What?”
“Nothing. You just look ... happy. I see finding out you knew each other years ago has invigorated the two of you.”
“I think that’s the breaking and entering they did last night,” Marnie corrected. “Did you guys find anything useful?”
“We think we did,” I replied. “It seems the good doctor was having sex with at least twenty of his patients, including Maxine Wheeler.”
Mom, Marnie and Twila wrinkled their noses in identical looks of disgust.
“That’s horrible. That has to be illegal.”
“Technically it’s not illegal,” Landon countered as he heaped pancakes onto his plate. “It’s definitely unethical. I’m sure he could’ve been brought up on any number of charges with the medical board and had his license revoked.”
“That’s if he even has a license,” I pointed out.
Landon’s hand paused next to the syrup bottle. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that he might not have a license. He was a radio personality who happened to treat people out of his home. Does he need a license for that?”
“I’m not sure.” Puzzlement washed over Landon’s features. “That’s a good point. You’re smart and pretty.”
“Oh, geez!” Mom rolled her eyes. “I can always tell when you guys are feeling all fluttery around each other. I’m guessing the dream your aunt sent you caused romance to shoot out of your noses when you woke up.”
“Now that is a lovely visual,” Landon deadpanned, earning a small smile for his efforts.
“I’m just saying that you’re acting a little ridiculous,” Mom sniffed. “We’re trying to eat breakfast and your antics make me want to gag.”
“I’m sorry,” I offered quickly. “We don’t want to make anyone gag.”
“Ignore her,” Marnie supplied. “She’s still upset about the Terry situation and she’s taking it out on you.”
“I am most certainly not upset about the Terry situation,” Mom barked. “There’s nothing to be upset about. Quite frankly, I’m glad he’s finally found someone to make him happy. Terry is my friend. I want him to live a fulfilled life. If that’s with this woman … then more power to him.”
It was a good try, but no one was buying it. “You could tell him how you feel,” I suggested. “I bet if he knew you were interested he would drop the pretzel chick in a heartbeat.”
Mom made a face. “Pretzel chick?”
“She teaches yoga, which means she can bend herself like a pretzel. Men like flexible chicks, but you have history with Chief Terry. I think you could still win.”
Mom’s face shifted through a myriad of emotions as she absorbed what I’d said. “Wait ... flexible?”
“Nice one, Bay.” Landon tapped my plate. “Eat your breakfast and stay out of Chief Terry’s love life. We’ve had this discussion ... multiple times.”
“We have,” I agreed. “I’ve decided I’m not staying out of it. He doesn’t belong with Melanie. She’s evil.”
“You barely know her,” Landon protested. “She seems perfectly nice. She brought us doughnuts yesterday and everything.”
“Oh, well, if she brought you doughnuts,” Aunt Tillie drawled.
Landon extended a warning finger. “You stay out of this, too.”
“I certainly will not.” Aunt Tillie didn’t even pretend to play the game. She had no interest in doing Landon’s bidding. “I agree with Bay. This pretzel chick is evil and we need to get her out of Terry’s life.”
Uh-oh. When Aunt Tillie agreed with me, I knew I’d taken it a step too far. “Well, I didn’t mean it exactly like that,” I hedged. “I just meant that Mom should tell Chief Terry how she feels so he’ll drop the pretzel chick and we won’t have to see her anymore.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I heard we should come up with a plan to scare her off so we can save Terry from his hormones.”
Double uh-oh. “Aunt Tillie ... .” I trailed off, uncertain what to say.
“You’ve done it now,” Landon noted. “You’ve got Aunt Tillie riled up. She’ll keep you riled up. You’ll get Clove and Thistle involved. I pity that poor pretzel chick. She seems like a nice woman.”
I found my voice. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Yeah, we don’t want to hurt her,” Aunt Tillie echoed. “We simply want her gone.”
“That a healthy and mature attitude,” Landon deadpanned. “I’m always excited when Bay’s opinion of a situation coincides with yours. That never terrifies me.”
He had a point. “I’ll give it some more thought,” I said finally. “I’m not saying that I think she’s good for him no matter how much you guilt me, though.”
“I don’t expect miracles. She’s a perfectly decent woman, and I want you to think long and hard before you do something you’ll regret.”
I nodded, solemn. “That seems fair.”
Aunt Tillie made a derisive sound, halfway between a snort and a guffaw. “I’m not going to think about it. I’m simply going to act on it.”
“Somehow I knew that,” Landon muttered. “You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?”
Eyes twinkling, Aunt Tillie grinned. “I’m always trouble, Sparky. Get used to that.”
Thirteen
I took the pilfered files to Hypnotic. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have more than one set of eyes on them. Clove and Thistle were busy conducting inventory when I entered. They barely looked up when I let loose an exaggerated sigh and dropped the files on the coffee table in the center of the store.
“That won’t work on us,” Thistle offered. “We have our own work to do. We can’t help you today.”
“Why not?”
“It’s inventory day.”
“You guys do inventory every month,” I pointed out. “I don’t see why it’s even necessary.”
“That’s because you don’t work in retail.”
A fact for which I was continuously thankful whenever Clove and Thistle had a big sale and worked twelve hours to empty their shelves. “Yes, well, I would think having a murderer on the loose is more important than inventory.”
“That was low,” Clove complained.
“I can go lower. In fact, I’m thinking of going really low and spying on Chief Terry’s new girlfriend so we can dig up dirt on her.”
I didn’t immediately look to Clove and Thistle to see if I had their attention, but I felt their eyes on me.
“That’s a great idea,” Thistle enthused. “I bet she’s got all sorts of skeletons in her closet.”
“It’s a bad idea,” Clove countered, her internal Mary Sue on full display. “Chief Terry has been good to us. We shouldn’t ruin his life simply because we don’t like his choice in girlfriends. Besides, Melanie is a nice woman. I don’t want to see her hurt.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Wait ... you know her?”
Clove, realizing her mistake too late to take it back, averted her eyes. “Of course I don’t know her. Don’t be ridiculous.”
; When it came to manipulating strangers, Clove was a fabulous liar. When it came to fooling us, she was downright terrible. “You’re hiding something.” The files forgotten, I moved closer to Clove. “How do you know her?”
“I didn’t say I knew her.” Clove turned shrill. “Why do you naturally assume I know her?”
“Because you said she was a nice lady.”
“That’s what I heard around town.”
“You’re full of it.” I looked to Thistle for help. “What is she hiding?”
Intrigued, Thistle abandoned her inventory list and joined me in crowding Clove. “I have no idea,” she admitted. “Now that we don’t live together, we’re not all up in each other’s business. It’s easier to hide things.”
“Like the naked statue you’re hiding in the barn?” Clove challenged.
“I’m not hiding that statue,” Thistle shot back. “I’m proud of that statue. Marcus is the prude. He doesn’t want it in the house, and when I suggested putting it in the big barn so tourists can see it he said no because he’s afraid it will warp the minds of children when they visit the petting zoo.”
On general principle, I was on Thistle’s side, but Marcus had a point. “It’s a naked witch,” I reminded her. “You can’t traumatize kids with a naked witch statue. Marcus will get in trouble.”
“It’s tasteful.”
“She’s still naked.”
Thistle turned pouty. “Maybe I can talk Mom into putting the statue in front of The Overlook.”
While I had no doubt Thistle could manipulate Twila into doing her bidding, I was equally convinced that Marnie and Mom would have a thing or two to say about that possibility. “Yeah, that won’t fly.”
“What am I supposed to do with it? I spent weeks working on it.”
“You could put it here,” I suggested, earning a scathing look from Clove.
“Absolutely not. We’ll get trouble from Mrs. Little. And we might scare away customers,” Clove snapped. “It can’t be on display here.”
Thistle turned a set of hopeful eyes to me. “What about at The Whistler?”
“Um ... yeah, no.”
Her scowl back, Thistle shot me the finger. “I see that you’re volunteering everyone else’s space but your own. Nice.”
“You made the statue,” I argued. “That makes it your responsibility.”
“Whatever.” Thistle rolled her eyes as she returned to her inventory list. “That still doesn’t change the fact that Clove knows Melanie Adams and doesn’t want us to know how.”
Now it was Clove’s turn to frown. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t let that go.”
“She has a point.” I returned to my original topic. “How do you know her?”
“I may have stopped by her studio yesterday to get a list of classes,” Clove replied, bitterness evident. “I want to get in shape before the wedding, and it’s not as if we have a lot of options. This town really needs a gym.”
“Landon mentioned the same thing. He’s afraid he’s going to get fat eating at the inn constantly.”
“A gym isn’t a bad idea,” Thistle noted. “Maybe I will bring it up with Marcus. He’s always looking for ways to expand his business. That might not be a bad idea.”
“Maybe he and Landon can go into business together,” I suggested. “That way Landon will have something to focus on besides FBI work when he’s old enough to retire.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“Wait a minute.” Clove straightened her shoulders. “What if Sam wants to be involved, too? Why are Landon and Marcus always considered a solid twosome but you cut Sam out?”
I bit back a sigh. “Nobody is cutting Sam out. It’s not even really a thing. It’s just something we were talking about.”
“Well, it sounded like you were cutting Sam out.”
“It sounds like you’re being a ninny,” Thistle fired back. “Let’s talk about Melanie Adams. Why didn’t you tell us you met with her?”
“Because Bay and Landon were all worked up at dinner about meeting as kids and then you made plans to break the law together. There wasn’t time.”
I knew better than that. “She didn’t bring it up because she was afraid to upset my mother. She’s as worried as I am that things are about to get rough around The Overlook.”
“Your mother isn’t the only one with feelings for Chief Terry,” Thistle argued. “My mother and Marnie are hot for him, too.”
“Not really. They simply want to drive my mother batty. I mean ... they care about Terry. They don’t care the same way my mother does.”
“I still don’t understand why they never hooked up,” Clove said. “The attraction was there for a long time. They were always flirting. But neither took the next step, and I don’t understand why.”
“I don’t either. It’s frustrating. Now Chief Terry is dating a human pretzel and someone is going to end up hurt. The thing is, I’m not about to let it be my mother. Landon is on me about minding my own business, but I think we need to delicately lead Melanie in another direction.
“I mean ... I don’t think we should terrorize her or anything,” I continued. “I simply think we should find a different man for her to wrap her tentacles around.”
“Tentacles, huh?” Thistle arched an amused eyebrow. “The more you talk about this woman, the meaner you get. I’m not used to you acting this way.”
“Do you have a problem with it?”
“Problem? No. In fact, I approve. I’ve always thought you would make a fabulous sidekick for me when I launch my plan for world domination. You’ll need to be mean to accomplish it, and this is a fantastic first step.”
That didn’t make me feel better. “Maybe I should think about it some more.”
“That’s a good idea,” Clove said. “Melanie is nice. I don’t want to see her get hurt. Of course, I don’t want to see Aunt Winnie get hurt either. It’s all very Dynasty.”
Confusion won out over indifference. “Dynasty?”
“You know ... hair pulling and screaming. That’s what I imagine will happen if your mother ever gets it together and stakes a claim on Chief Terry.”
“Ah.” I considered the statement for a long beat and then shook my head to dislodge the image of my mother and Melanie yanking each other’s hair. “I think we should talk about something else. This conversation is giving me a stomachache, and I promised Landon I wouldn’t do anything without giving it proper thought.”
“That’s a good idea,” Thistle agreed. “Let’s talk about where I should move my statue.”
“We’ve talked about that for weeks.”
“And we’re sick of it,” Clove added. “I think we should talk about which one of you is going to be my maid of honor.”
The change in topic threw me for a loop. “I ... you ... oh.”
“That’s right.” Clove turned prim and proper. “I need a maid of honor and there’s three of us so ... that could get tricky. I don’t want you guys fighting over the title.”
I exchanged a quick look with Thistle. The only thing we would fight over is the opportunity to stick the other with the job. “Oh, well ... .”
“Why does that have to be decided right now?” Thistle interjected, her mind clearly working overtime. “We have a lot going on right now, between Bay’s new power and Chief Terry dating the pretzel chick. That’s on top of a murder. We should wait until things die down to make that decision.”
“Thistle is right,” I said quickly. “We should definitely wait until we have more time to really dig into the issue.”
Whether she understood what we were doing or not, Clove vehemently shook her head. “I want to decide now. I’ve been giving it some thought, and I think the only fair way to make the decision is to have a competition.”
I furrowed my brow. “Like a game of horse on the basketball court?”
“Like a trivia game in which you guys can compete over who knows me best.”
That sounded absolutely
tragic. “Um ... .”
“Maybe we could just draw straws,” Thistle suggested. “That might be easier.”
And less time-consuming, I silently added. Knowing Clove, she would create the world’s longest trivia game so Thistle and I would have no choice but to compete for days over a job neither of us wanted.
“Drawing straws is boring,” Clove argued. “I think the trivia game is better. That way, whichever of you wins, we can arrange the lineup for the other weddings.”
“What other weddings?” I blurted out before I could grasp what she was getting at.
“Your wedding to Landon and Thistle’s wedding to Marcus. We all know they’ll happen eventually, so we have to get a rotation going.”
“A rotation?”
“You know ... if you’re my maid of honor that means I’ll be Thistle’s matron of honor and she’ll be your maid of honor. Or we’ll switch it around if it goes the other way.”
“Oh, well, that makes sense ... I guess.”
“That way no one will be left out,” Clove added.
The look Thistle shot me said she was more than willing to be left out. I recognized Clove would melt down if Thistle suggested anything of the sort, so I lobbed a quelling glare in her direction and shook my head in warning.
“I guess we can do the trivia thing,” I said. “It’ll have to wait a few days. You guys have inventory and I need to go through these files. We have to find a murderer before we can focus on the wedding.”
“Okay.” Clove brightened considerably. “I’ll come up with questions and we can have the competition the second this case is solved. How does that sound?”
Like the worst thing ever. I forced a smile for her benefit all the same. “Sounds great.”
I LOST MYSELF IN HOPPER’S files while Thistle and Clove finished up their inventory. Before I realized what was happening, they’d joined me on the furniture in the middle of the store and started delving into client backgrounds.
“This whole thing is sick,” Thistle said after an hour of reading one file. “This guy kept copious notes about what his clients were doing with each other and intermingled it with the things he was talking the women into doing with him. It was ... freaky.”
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