Witch Me Luck (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 6)

by Amanda M. Lee

  I opened my mouth to reply, but the only sound that escaped was a broken sob.

  Landon parked in front of the Dandridge, and my door was open before I realized what was happening. He unfastened my seatbelt and pulled me to him, cupping the back of my head and forcing my gaze to meet his.

  “We’ll figure this out,” he said. “I promise.”

  I nodded.

  “Stay here.”

  I nodded again.

  Landon kissed me, his lips soft and his arms strong as he pressed me close. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m so sorry for all of this.”

  “WHERE is he?”

  Landon and Chief Terry had been gone about fifteen minutes when I realized something was wrong. I fought my inner urges and remained standing by the Explorer, even though I was desperate for information. When they returned – alone – I knew things were about to hit rock bottom.

  “The Dandridge is empty,” Landon said.

  I pointed to Sam’s car. “He has to be here.”

  “It looks like someone collected some clothes quickly,” Chief Terry said. “The front door was open, but nobody was home.”

  “What does that mean?” I knew what it meant. I needed them to say it, though.

  “It means he ran,” Landon said, collecting my hand before I could run it through my hair.

  “But … how?”

  “Maybe he got the money he was looking for and put this town in his rear-view mirror,” Landon said.

  “I don’t believe he’s the robber,” I replied. “Only an idiot would admit to it. I don’t believe Sam is an idiot.”

  “I tend to agree with you,” Landon said. “We can’t ignore the facts, though. The facts state that Mrs. Gunderson identified him.”

  “If he wasn’t guilty, how did he know to run?” Chief Terry asked.

  That was a very good question. “I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t … you didn’t call Clove, did you?” Landon was reluctant to ask the question.

  “Of course not!” I jerked my hand from his. “Do you really think I would do that?”

  Landon sighed. “I think you love your family,” he said. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did do it.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Okay,” Landon said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t really think you did. I had to ask.”

  “If you believed I hadn’t done it, you wouldn’t have asked.”

  “That is not true,” Landon said, pointing at me. “I know you didn’t have time to call Clove. We walked in before you had the chance. You haven’t been out of my sight since.”

  “That’s how you know?” My voice was shrill, even to my own ears.

  “No,” Landon said. “I also know because you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I still had to ask. It’s part of my job.”

  My head told me he was telling the truth. My heart still hurt. “Fine.”

  “Don’t,” Landon said. “I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. Don’t shut me out. Don’t … do whatever it is you’re about to do.”

  His words warmed me, but I was still upset. “I would never do that.”

  “I know,” Landon said. “We have to cover our bases. I’m sorry.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What happens now?”

  “Now we stake out the Dandridge and … put out a BOLO.”

  A BOLO? That stood for “be on the lookout.” This was officially serious. “They won’t shoot him if they find him, will they?”

  Landon and Chief Terry exchanged a look.

  “Not unless he gives them a reason,” Chief Terry said.

  That made me feel better. Kind of. Sam wouldn’t give them a reason. Would he? No, seriously, would he? I needed to get home.

  Twenty-Five

  “Where’s Clove?”

  My mother’s face was drawn when Landon and I walked into The Overlook. “She’s in the kitchen.”

  “Does she know?”

  “She knows.”

  “How?”

  “Thistle told her when she got here about an hour ago,” Mom said.

  “How did she take it?”

  “She didn’t believe her at first,” Mom said. “Then we saw the news.”

  I hadn’t even thought about that. The local television stations – always starved for stories – would have aired Mrs. Gunderson’s assault and robbery as the lead story. “Is she okay?”

  “No.”

  I turned to Landon, conflicted. “I … .”

  “Go,” he said, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it softly. “I’ll be in the dining room.”

  I glanced at Mom.

  “Go,” she said. “Your cousin needs you now. I’ll take care of Landon. We have fresh bread. He’ll be happy.”

  My feet were leaden as I moved through the house. A few of the guests called out to me, but their greetings barely registered and I didn’t acknowledge them. I could hear Landon making excuses in my wake – something about preparing for the next show – but I didn’t absorb his words. I had to get to Clove.

  I found her in the kitchen. She was on the floor, her back pressed to the wall and her knees drawn up in front of her. Her cheek rested against her knee. Thistle sat next to her, a hand on her arm, but she was silent, too.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Thistle didn’t bother looking up. “She’s not saying much.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  “She called me a liar,” Thistle said. “Then she saw the news.”

  “I heard.” I stepped lightly as I closed the distance between us. Without a better idea to bolster me, I pressed my back against the wall and sank down on the floor next to Clove. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You didn’t do it.” Clove’s voice was small, her eyes red from crying. “He did it.”

  I glanced at Thistle, helpless. “We don’t know that.”

  “Mrs. Gunderson identified him.”

  “Mrs. Gunderson didn’t technically identify him,” I said. “Mrs. Gunderson said the masked man identified himself. That doesn’t mean it was Sam.”

  Clove shifted her head so she could focus on me for the first time since I’d entered the room. “Do you really believe that?”

  It was truth time. I searched my heart. “Yes.”

  “If it’s not him, who is it?”

  “Someone trying to frame him,” I said. “Mrs. Gunderson was very confused when we were with her.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She thought I was Aunt Tillie.”

  Clove snorted, the sound offering me the first moment of levity I’d felt in hours. “That must have killed you.”

  “It wasn’t my finest moment.”

  “What did she say?”

  I recounted my conversation with Mrs. Gunderson, making sure to leave nothing out, and then rubbed my hand over Clove’s knee. “I still think he’s innocent.”

  “Then why did he run?”

  That was a very good question. “I’m more interested in how he found out,” I said.

  Thistle narrowed her eyes. “That’s a pretty good point.”

  “Landon asked me whether I called Clove,” I admitted.

  “Is he still alive?” Aunt Tillie asked, shuffling into the room. Her usual bravado was absent as she focused on Clove. Her outfit was … however … unique.

  “Where did you get a Batman costume? And where did you get one that’s a dress?”

  “I ordered it on line,” Aunt Tillie said, moving toward Clove. “It’s technically a theme dress. It’s meant for costume parties.”

  I could see that. “Where did you get it?”

  “Hot Topic.”

  I wanted to laugh, but the noise died on my lips. We could use a superhero about now.

  “Do you want to tell us what you’re trying to blackmail our mothers in to letting you do?” Thistle asked.

  Aunt Tillie was unruffled. “I want to build a still.”

  I
t shouldn’t have surprised me, but her admission tipped me over the edge. “Seriously?” I burst into uncontrollable laughter.

  “It’s nothing to laugh at,” Aunt Tillie said, primly. “I have a vision for my future … and it involves a still.”

  “You already make wine,” Thistle pointed out. “Why do you need a still?”

  “Because your mothers don’t want me to have one.”

  “You’re a piece of work,” I said.

  “We all are,” Aunt Tillie said, leaning over and resting her chin on top of Clove’s head briefly. “Don’t worry. Sam will be vindicated.”

  “How can you know that?” Clove asked.

  “I have faith in him,” Aunt Tillie said, pulling away and straightening. “You should, too.”

  “What if he’s found guilty?” Clove asked.

  “Then we’ll fix it.”

  “What if he’s killed before he can be arrested?”

  “He won’t be,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “What if … ?”

  “Don’t,” Aunt Tillie said, extending a gnarled finger in front of Clove’s face. “Things happen as they’re supposed to happen. There’s always a reason. That’s our faith, and that’s our lot in life. The only thing you have to question is your resolve.”

  “I want to believe in him,” Clove said. “It’s just so … overwhelming.”

  “Life is overwhelming, kid,” Aunt Tillie said. “The strong survive. I have no idea whether Sam is strong enough to survive, but you’re strong enough for the both of you.”

  On a regular day, Aunt Tillie exasperated me. Today, though? Today she was my hero. She’d given Clove the one thing she needed: faith.

  “I am strong enough,” Clove said, grabbing Aunt Tillie’s outstretched hand and pulling herself to her feet. “We can fix this. We will fix this.”

  “Of course we will,” Aunt Tillie said. “You should never doubt that.” She led Clove out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

  Thistle rolled her head to face me. “Does it bother you that we’re supposed to be the ones closest to Clove but it’s Aunt Tillie who made her feel better?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “That would make me petty.”

  “I guess I’m petty then.”

  She wasn’t the only one. “I kind of wish she had a Robin dress,” I said. “I would be proud to be her sidekick tonight.”

  Thistle pushed herself off the floor. She moved in front of me and extended her hand so she could pull me to my feet. “I’m Robin,” she said. “You’re Batgirl.”

  “I don’t want to be Batgirl.”

  “No one wants to be Batgirl,” Thistle said. “That’s just your lot in life. Suck it up.”

  “THIS is amazing,” Nick said, sucking a noodle from the seafood Alfredo dish into his mouth like an enthusiastic child with an obnoxious slurp. “I’ve never had pasta this good.”

  I tried to rein in my disgust. “Our mothers are the best cooks in the state.”

  “I totally agree.”

  I scratched the back of my head and forced my gaze to Landon. His eyes were kind … and concerned. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  Landon inclined his head in Clove’s direction. She wasn’t talking, but she wasn’t hiding either. “Is she okay?”

  “Aunt Tillie fixed her,” I said, reaching for a breadstick. “She fixed her when we failed.”

  Landon rubbed my knee under the table. “She has a special brand of magic.”

  I glanced at my great-aunt, who was reveling in the dirty looks my mother and aunts shot in her direction as she lorded over her spot at the head of the table. “She’s Batman.”

  Landon snickered. “How much money is she spending on these outfits?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “She seems to be enjoying herself.”

  “And what does she want?”

  “A still.”

  Landon faltered, a forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth. “Seriously?”

  “I don’t think she really wants it,” I said. “I think she wants it to irritate our mothers.”

  “Why don’t they want her to have it?”

  “It’s a fire hazard.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  I leaned my head over and rested it on his shoulder. “Yes.”

  Landon pressed his lips to the side of my head. “I can’t let her have a still. You know that, right?”

  I did know that. “I’m kind of looking forward to her trying to build one,” I admitted.

  “I’ll have to arrest her,” Landon said. “I’ll have to have to the still confiscated.”

  “You’ll have to find it first.”

  “You have a lot of property here,” Landon said. “That doesn’t mean she can hide a still.”

  “She’s hiding a pot field,” I pointed out.

  Landon scowled. “Magically.”

  “What makes you think she won’t do the same with a still?”

  That was a sobering thought, and I could see the ramifications of my question wash over Landon’s face as he considered it. “Crap.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Nick asked, leaning his head in our direction. “Are you talking about Batman?”

  While his tone was teasing, and his attention had previously been flattering, given our new circumstances Nick’s presence was irksome. “We’re talking about something private,” I said.

  Nick wasn’t put off by my admonishment. “Did Clove’s boyfriend really kill that teller and attack Mrs. Gunderson?”

  I frowned.

  Landon grabbed my hand under the table and gripped it tightly. “We have no idea who robbed the bank or the bakery,” he said. “It’s an ongoing investigation.”

  “The news said Mrs. Gunderson identified him,” Nick said. “That sounds pretty open and shut to me.”

  “I guess that’s why you’re not an investigator,” Landon replied dryly. “We go on evidence … not what the news says.”

  Nick’s face was awash with surprise. “I thought Sam was a suspect.”

  Landon gritted his teeth and poured himself a glass of wine.

  “He is,” I said carefully. “He’s not the only suspect, though, and there are some problems with the accusations against him.” I had no idea why I said it.

  “That’s interesting,” Nick said. “The television news made it sound as though the case was closed.”

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you see on television,” Landon said, pouring the rest of the wine bottle into my glass. “You’ll find that television news makes assumptions that aren’t always correct.”

  “Do you believe this guy is innocent?” Nick asked.

  “I believe in a proper investigation,” Landon countered. “I don’t rule anything out … or in … until I have proof.”

  “Are you just saying that because of Clove?”

  Nick’s questions were starting to irritate me.

  “Of course he’s not,” I said. “Landon’s relationship with Clove … and with me … has nothing to do with his work ethic. He doesn’t let personal feelings infringe on his profession.”

  Nick didn’t look convinced. “Do you expect me to believe that he’s sleeping with you and working against your cousin?”

  I scowled. “I … .”

  Landon reached over and grabbed the sleeve of Nick’s shirt roughly. “I’m not sleeping with her,” he said. “We’re in a relationship. That doesn’t mean I don’t do my job.”

  “I … I’m sorry,” Nick said, flustered. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I put my hand on Landon’s and unclenched his fingers from Nick’s shirt. “We’re all tired,” I said. “It’s been a long day.”

  Landon collected himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Bay is right. We have a lot on our plates.” He focused back on his dinner. “I shouldn’t have touched you. That was wrong.”

  “It’s okay, man,” Nick said. “I shouldn’t have pushed.”

  Landon
’s cellphone rang. He pushed away from the table, sent me a reassuring look, and then pulled it from his pocket. “Michaels,” he answered.

  I watched him walk into the front lobby for privacy.

  “He’s intense,” Nick said.

  “He’s a good man,” I replied. “He’s … the best man I’ve ever met.”

  “You love him,” Nick supplied.

  I ignored the statement. “He’s a good man, and a good agent. He always finds the truth. He doesn’t know how to fail when it comes to a case.”

  “I guess you’re lucky that you’ve found someone you have faith in,” Nick said. “I’ve never been that lucky.”

  “Maybe you haven’t earned the gift of an honest person,” I countered, distracted by Landon’s silhouette as he paced the lobby.

  “Maybe,” Nick said.

  Landon returned to the dining room, his face unreadable. “I have to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Mrs. Gunderson has regained consciousness.”

  I moved to get to my feet, but Landon stilled me with a hand on my shoulder. “You can’t come,” he said.

  I understood why, but it still hurt. “Okay.”

  Landon leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll be back at the guesthouse as soon as I can,” he said. “Eat. You need the fuel. I’ll be back with you as soon as is humanly possible.”

  I nodded. I feared conversation would betray me.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Landon said. “I’ll … it’s going to be okay.”

  Landon kissed me again and then turned to Clove. “I’ll call as soon as I have any information.”

  Twenty-Six

  After dinner, Thistle, Clove, Marcus and I hung out long enough to watch Aunt Tillie use her Batman dress – including fighting invisible bad guys while yelling “kapow” and “bang” at the top of her lungs – to irritate my mother until she developed a bizarre facial tic, and then we called it a night.

  The walk back to the guesthouse was mostly quiet until Clove felt the need to fill in the conversational gaps.

  “Are you sure you don’t have a problem with me moving back home?”

  Now that she’d put her meltdown behind her and was bolstered by a good meal, Clove regained some of her personality, along with the color that had been missing from her cheeks when I found her in the kitchen. Now she needed sleep to eradicate the shadows under her eyes. I considered drugging her. She needed eight uninterrupted hours, and she wasn’t going to get it as long as her mind kept churning.