“Does anyone care about the law here?” Aunt Willa wailed.
Chief Terry rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers in Aunt Tillie’s direction. “Let me see the land deed.”
“I’m only giving you this because I want you to kick Willa out on her fat behind,” Aunt Tillie said. “We’re going to have a talk about you snapping your fingers at me like I’m a dog later, though.”
Chief Terry blanched. “I didn’t mean … .” He didn’t bother finishing, instead taking the land deed and scanning it. “This says Tillie Winchester owns all the land and it has the county’s seal on it. You’re fresh out Willa. They have the legal right to remove you from the property.”
Aunt Willa wasn’t about to give up. “I want a second opinion.”
“Well, I’m the top cop in town, so I’m all you’ve got.”
“I want someone else in law enforcement to verify that document.” Aunt Willa had the family stubborn streak. I had to give her that.
“Will that make you leave?” Chief Terry asked.
Aunt Willa nodded.
Chief Terry handed the deed to Landon, taking Aunt Willa by surprise.
“It looks legit to me,” Landon said, handing the deed to Aunt Tillie and grabbing a slice of bacon from Chief Terry’s place.
“Now I’m really going to beat you,” Chief Terry warned before turning to Aunt Willa expectantly. “There’s your verification.”
“He doesn’t count,” Aunt Willa screeched. “He’s sleeping with the enemy.”
“That’s not going to help your case,” Chief Terry replied dryly. “When you say ‘enemy,’ I picture an eight-year-old with pigtails and a stuffed dog. When you say ‘sleeping,’ I want to punch someone. I can’t punch a woman, but I might make an exception in your case.”
“And he can’t punch me because I’m strong and manly, and he knows he would lose,” Landon added, sneaking another slice of bacon from Chief Terry’s plate.
“I will beat you if you steal one more piece of my food.”
Landon was nonplussed. “They have the right to kick you out, Willa. You should have the grace to leave with a little pride intact.”
“That shows what you know,” Willa hissed. “I will never leave this property to you … people. I know what you are and what you’ve been doing out here. I’m going to own the whole thing before it’s all said and done. Just you wait.”
“Well, you might want to try owning it from another location,” Chief Terry suggested. “This one belongs to someone else, and she wants you gone.”
“That’s right,” Aunt Tillie said, doing a little jig next to the desk.
“What are you doing?” Willa asked. She was quickly becoming unhinged.
“I’m dancing on your metaphorical grave!”
Twenty-Nine
“I can’t believe I missed it again!”
Clove wrinkled her pert nose in disgust as she organized herbs behind the counter at Hypnotic two hours later.
“That’s what happens when you move in with your boyfriend and don’t tell anyone,” I teased, reclining on the couch and studying Thistle’s newest candle. It was a sugar skull … and it was beautiful. “I want one of these.”
“Do you really like it?” Thistle asked. “Sugar skulls are all the rage. I thought adding them to the store would be a good idea because they fit the horror atmosphere and still look pretty.”
“It’s amazing,” I said. “Maybe I’ll get Landon one. He’s feeling flirty today.”
Thistle snorted. “I’m working on a candle for you to give to Landon,” she said. “To be fair, I’m working on one to give to Marcus, too. I’m going to include you, though.”
“What is it? If it’s boobs I don’t want it. I don’t want to be jealous of a candle.”
Clove giggled. “It’s not boobs. Do you think I would let her sell candles shaped like boobs in our store?”
“Once you move out you’re never going to see what I’m working on,” Thistle said. “It’s going to be glorious.”
Clove frowned. “Aren’t you going to miss me even a little bit?”
“Nope.”
I took pity on my cousin. “I’ll miss you.”
“Only because she usually takes your side in an argument,” Thistle said. “Now we’re going to be going at each other without a tiebreaker. That’s going to be glorious, too.”
I rolled my eyes and focused on Clove. “When are you going to move?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m not leaving until all this Aunt Willa stuff is settled.”
“That’s probably smart,” I said. “You’ll want to be close if one of our mothers really does achieve the impossible and manages to make her head explode with only the powers of her mind.”
“Oh, please,” Thistle scoffed. “If anyone could manage that it’s Aunt Tillie. Did she really dance on an imaginary grave?”
I nodded. “It was … odd.”
“That’s hilarious,” Thistle said. “I can’t believe I missed it.”
“It was one for the record books.”
We lapsed into comfortable silence for a few minutes, Clove and Thistle taking care of various tasks while I studied the candle. Thistle was a gifted artist. I don’t know how a mind so full of evil thoughts could make something so beautiful.
“Where is Landon?” Clove asked, as if realizing for the first time he wasn’t with me.
“He’s at the police station,” I replied. “They’re hauling Stephen, Dakota and Charlie in for questioning today.”
“Twenty bucks says Charlie cracks first,” Thistle said. “That kid has ‘narc’ written all over him.”
“I didn’t think he could possibly be involved at first,” I admitted. “The fact that he seems to not only be involved but also actively participating with the other boys indicates otherwise, though.”
“He might actually be able to get off with a peer pressure defense,” Clove suggested. “He wants to fit in so badly that he’ll do almost anything.”
“I think Stephen is the brains behind the operation,” I volunteered. “At first I thought it was Dakota, but when I watched them interact the other day Stephen seemed to be the one in control and Dakota appeared to be along for the ride.”
“That’s probably true,” Thistle said. “I’ve talked to that Dakota kid a few times at festivals, and he doesn’t strike me as bright.”
“I’m not sure how bright any of them are,” I countered. “You would have to be stupid to sell drugs in a town this small. Everyone knows the gossip mill is out of control. Word was bound to get out.”
“The only reason it got out is because Nathaniel was murdered,” Clove pointed out. “If he hadn’t died, their secret would still be safe.”
“Yeah, that bugs me, too,” I said. “If Nathaniel was part of the group, why did they kill him? Heck, I’m not even sure they are the ones who killed him. Whoever they were working for could’ve done it. It’s just … .”
“If professionals did it, why did they dump him in an area with ties to the field?” Thistle said. “It doesn’t make sense. If professionals took Nathaniel out – or even adults who knew a thing about murder investigations – they would’ve dumped him somewhere else.”
“Hemlock Cove isn’t big, but the surrounding woods are dense,” I said. “Dumping the body in a remote location would make a lot more sense.”
“Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way,” Clove suggested. “Maybe whoever Stephen, Charlie and Dakota are working with didn’t kill Nathaniel. Maybe someone who knew they were selling drugs to area kids killed him and purposely dumped the body close to the pot field so the police would find it.”
Now that was an interesting theory. “Who would do that?”
“Has anyone lost a kid to a drug overdose around here?” Thistle asked, knitting her eyebrows together. “I can’t think of anyone. Carter Mortensen’s kid almost died in a car accident when he was high, but they put him in rehab and he’s been straight ever sin
ce, from what I can tell.”
“I can’t think of anyone,” Clove said. “That doesn’t mean there’s not someone out there we didn’t hear about. If I were a parent, I might lie about how my kid died if I thought it would sully his memory.”
“Clove’s theory makes a lot of sense,” I said, running the possibilities through my mind. “It just doesn’t feel … right … though.”
“Does Stephen, Charlie or Dakota killing Nathaniel feel right?”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t feel right either,” I admitted. “I don’t care how stupid those kids are, dropping Nathaniel’s body at Hollow Creek was a boneheaded move. I don’t think they did it.
“For the sake of argument, though, let’s say they did murder him and left the body behind,” I continued. “It was several days before Nathaniel was discovered. That’s plenty of time to realize what they did and try to move him.”
“Okay, if someone with a vendetta against drugs doesn’t feel right, and the other two options don’t make sense, what are we left with?” Thistle asked.
“Nathaniel was stabbed eight times,” I reminded them. “That’s not a drug hit. That’s personal.”
“So we’re missing something,” Clove surmised.
“We’re definitely missing something,” I agreed. “For the life of me I can’t figure out what, though.”
TWO HOURS later I was still on the couch and no further along in my mental investigation. I had nowhere to go, and without an update from Landon I was stuck.
“Let’s order lunch,” Thistle suggested. “I’m starving.”
“Let’s get Thai,” Clove said. “We haven’t had that in ages.”
“I can live with that,” I said, swinging my feet off the couch and turning to my cousins. “I … .” The sound of the wind chimes dinging over the door caught our attention. I expected a customer. What I got was a nightmare.
“What are you doing here, Aunt Willa?” Thistle asked, no pretense of warmth on her face. “You’re banned from the inn. In case you’re slow, that means you’re not allowed here. We also reserve the right to refuse service and I would rather cater to trained snakes than you.”
“They would be cuddlier,” Clove added. She generally wasn’t big on insults, but Aunt Willa’s attitude and intentions were enough to make her mean. That said volumes about the nastiness of Aunt Willa.
“I’m not here to shop,” Aunt Willa shot back. “There’s nothing in this … den of Satan … that I would ever want.”
“Then leave,” Thistle suggested.
“I’m here to talk to the three of you,” Aunt Willa said. “I wasn’t actually expecting to find Bay here, but since she apparently only works when she feels like it – and talks back to her boss whenever the mood strikes – I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Brian isn’t my boss,” I countered. “He’s the idiot sitting in the front office who dreams up stupid ideas but never works. There’s a difference. I didn’t treat his grandfather the way I treat him. William was a wonderful man. He knew what his grandson was and his limitations. That’s why he drew up his will the way he did.”
“You girls sure think a lot of yourselves, don’t you?”
Thistle rolled her eyes. “That’s rich coming from you. Get out of my store.”
“Not until I say what I came here to say,” Aunt Willa shot back.
“Then say it.”
“I am owed money on that property,” Aunt Willa said, her voice calm and even. “You might not want to believe it because your mothers refuse to see my sister for what she is, but I was swindled.
“Now, I don’t want this to get ugly and I don’t want you to lose your home,” she continued. “I will take your home from you if it becomes necessary, though. I deserve my share of that money.”
“Do you think we’re somehow going to help you fight against our mothers?” Clove asked, confused.
“I think you are more … realistic … about what’s going to happen here,” Aunt Willa clarified. “You know I have a case. You can save your family a lot of agony by telling them to give me my money.”
“Are you done?” I challenged.
“No … .”
“Shut up,” I snapped, cutting Aunt Willa off before she could get a full head of steam. “You don’t have a case. You know that. I’m not sure what you’re doing here … maybe you’ve run into financial problems or something … but you’re not entitled to our land.”
“I was born into the same family you were, Bay,” Aunt Willa hissed. “My parents left a will stating that anyone with our mother’s blood was to be given a share of the property. The land rights run through her. There were three children. That means I get a third of the land.”
“You did get it,” Thistle argued. “You got it, and sold it to Aunt Tillie and our grandmother because you thought this area was beneath you.”
“Don’t bother denying it,” I added. “We know what happened. When you left, Walkerville was a struggling community. The land was worth practically nothing. You got your payout and you were happy because you thought you stuck Aunt Tillie and Grandma with property you didn’t want.”
“Our mothers turned that property into a goldmine,” Clove chimed in. “They put their blood, sweat and tears into that inn. They designed it and they’re the draw thanks to their hard work and cooking. They worked their A-S-S-E-S off and they reaped the rewards. You don’t have anything to do with that inn, and you don’t deserve a dime.”
“Who are you spelling for?” Aunt Willa asked, glancing around.
“You, dumbass,” Thistle replied, earning a scorching glare from Aunt Willa. “If you try to take that inn from our mothers, you’re going to have a lot more than Aunt Tillie to deal with.”
“That’s right,” I said. “Our mothers are beloved in this community. They volunteer their time and they’re good people. No one likes you here. No one will take your side. A judge certainly isn’t going to take your side.”
“No matter how well your mothers are liked in Hemlock Cove, Tillie is hated here,” Aunt Willa said. “People will take my side to get rid of her.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I argued. “Aunt Tillie isn’t hated.”
Thistle arched a dubious eyebrow.
“She’s not hated,” I repeated. “She’s feared. Do you really think the people of this town want to risk going after her? She’ll burn every single one of them to a crisp before she lets you take that land. You know that, right?”
“I see she has you snowed, too,” Aunt Willa scoffed. “You’re afraid of her because you think she has magical powers. Let me tell you something, my dears, she doesn’t have magical powers because they don’t exist.”
I stilled, exchanging a confused look with Thistle. Powers came with being a Winchester. Our mothers mostly dabbled, yet they still had power. Had Aunt Willa deluded herself into believing she wasn’t paranormal because she was so desperate to be normal? That’s the only excuse I could muster.
“I think you’re living in La-La Land,” I said finally. “Whatever you think you’re going to accomplish here, you’re going to fail. Whatever misery you think you’re going to mete out to Aunt Tillie, it’s going to come back on you. That’s called karma.”
“And we all believe in it,” Clove added.
“Then you’ll all be sorry together,” Aunt Willa said. “Rosemary has been talking to our lawyer. She’s quite brilliant in legal circles. You know that, right?”
“The only circle Rosemary looks brilliant in is the one in your own head … or the Ring-Around-The-Rosy one at your local kindergarten,” Thistle replied. “You’re an idiot if you think you can touch that property. I’m almost happy you’re doing this. It’s going to be so much fun to watch you lose.”
“And what happens when I win?”
“Then we’ll get to watch Aunt Tillie dance on your actual grave,” Thistle answered. “That will be fun, too.”
Thirty
After Aunt Willa’s
visit – and huffy exit – I was on edge. I paced Hypnotic until Thistle and Clove couldn’t take another second of my nervous energy and threatened me with a dirt sandwich or banishment. I knew Aunt Willa didn’t have a claim on the land, but whenever someone messes with my family I want to do something horrible to them. Unfortunately, that was Aunt Tillie’s job in this particular situation.
I headed toward The Whistler, thinking I could get some work done – or at least waste an hour shopping on Etsy – when I saw Rosemary walking through the front door of the office. Ugh. What is with her and Brian? It’s incredibly annoying. Well, there was no way I was hanging out with the two of them. Of course, it might be fun to eavesdrop. Oh, who was I kidding? Edith could do that. I’m never going to choose the path that might lead to projectile vomiting, and that’s all I could think of whenever I looked at Rosemary.
I cast a glance in the direction of the police department, tempted to see how Landon and Chief Terry were doing with the three teenagers of terror. They didn’t want me there for obvious reasons. It was unprofessional to have the local news reporter sit in on an interrogation. It was even worse for the FBI agent in charge to bring his girlfriend along.
With nothing better to do, I found myself walking in the direction of the Jamison house. I was lost in thought – possibilities about Nathaniel’s death and fitting retribution for Aunt Willa warring for supremacy – when I happened upon Chloe as I rounded the corner that led to her house.
“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked, her eyes narrowing. “Are you here to finish me off?”
I sighed. Coming to the Jamison house was a bad idea. I’d forgotten that Chloe was laboring under the misassumption that I tried to kill her. “How are you doing, Chloe?”
“How do you think I’m doing?” Chloe asked, her tone scathing. “My brother is dead. My mother is a mess. She’s decided I need rehab because the pot is clearly driving me insane. My life is perfect. I should be on one of those Real Housewives of … Whatever shows.”
When she put it like that … . “Chloe, I know that life seems as if it’s stacking up against you right now,” I said. “Things will get better. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will find a way to move past this.”
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