Murder Most Witchy (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 10)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “My completely justified anger,” I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Your completely justified anger,” Landon agreed, bobbing his head. “I’m not leaving until we make up. Period.”

  “What happens if you run out of money?”

  “I’ll sleep in my Explorer.”

  “What happens if I won’t talk to you?”

  “I’ll follow you until you give in.”

  “That’s the refrain of stalkers everywhere,” I pointed out. “Is that a wise move for an FBI agent?”

  “I haven’t resorted to stalking yet,” Landon said. “I won’t rule it out, though. I can’t be without you. I’m so sorry. You simply cannot understand the level of my regret, because I’m just that sorry. But I won’t give up.”

  I stared at him for a long time. I wanted to give in. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck, wrestle him down so I could shave off that stupid beard, and then crawl into bed with him for a month. “It hurts to know that you didn’t care enough to find a way to get me a message.”

  “Bay, I didn’t realize the gravity of the situation from your perspective.” Landon chose his words carefully. “I realize that was a mistake on my part, and I won’t make it again. I was worried about what Becky and Doug would do. I didn’t think about what had already been done to you, and I will be forever sorry for that. You can’t punish me forever.”

  I let loose with a haughty laugh. “Oh, that shows what you know. I learned from the best. Aunt Tillie can come up with enough punishments to last forever.”

  Landon heaved out a sigh, resigned. “Fine. Bring it on. I’m ready.”

  “It will be worse than smelling like garbage for two days,” I warned.

  “Bay, I miss you so much I think it’s going to swallow me whole,” Landon supplied. “Nothing can be worse than that. I’ll gladly smell like garbage for the rest of my life if you’ll forgive me.”

  I met his gaze. “I’m not ready for that.”

  “Then we’ll take it one day at a time.”

  “I guess we will.”

  Landon’s lips curved as he regarded my obstinate stance. “Is the whole family going to punish me or just you? I hate to admit it, but I could get behind this deal if it were just you.”

  I didn’t want to smile, but I couldn’t help myself. “You’re such a pervert.”

  “That’s all I have to hold on to right now.”

  “Not all … but mostly.”

  Landon smirked. “Come on. I’ll get you a drink before dinner and then you can tell me about your day.”

  “I’m not talking to you,” I reminded him.

  “Oh, I wasn’t thinking that you could tell Landon your boyfriend about your day,” he clarified. “I thought you might want to tell the friendly inn guest about your day.”

  “Is the friendly inn guest a pervert, too?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Well … I’ve had worse offers this month.”

  “WHAT ARE you doing?”

  Dinner wasn’t nearly as bad as I envisioned. Landon took his usual seat next to me, although there was none of the playful banter or soft touches we usually engaged in during a family meal. He was polite and attentive, perhaps somehow guessing that’s exactly what I needed, but otherwise he didn’t force the issue.

  Aunt Tillie delighted in treating him like dirt, but he didn’t appear to care, instead focusing all of his energy on me. Mom started the meal throwing shade whenever the opportunity arose, but he was her favorite again by the end. She probably saw the obvious – that I would forgive him sooner rather than later – and embraced the inevitable. Still, I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my anger.

  I expected Marcus and Thistle to return to the guesthouse with me, which would make holding Landon off all the easier. Instead they offered a brief goodbye before heading to Marcus’ apartment for the night.

  That left me to walk to the guesthouse alone once dessert was over. Landon met me by the back door as I exited, though, taking me by surprise.

  “I’m walking you back to the guesthouse,” Landon replied, gesturing toward the well-worn pathway. “It’s dark and you shouldn’t be walking alone.”

  “I’ve been walking alone after dark for a month.”

  The muscle in Landon’s jaw worked but he refrained from saying something snarky. “I’m sorry about that. But you’re not alone tonight, so I’m walking you back.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re staying the night with me,” I warned, falling into step next to him.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Landon’s grin was lopsided. “Besides, all of my stuff is unpacked in my room at The Overlook. I’m simply going to make sure you make it back to the guesthouse in one piece.”

  “Fine.” The night air was cool and crisp, not altogether uncomfortable. “Are you going to shave your beard tonight?”

  “This beard really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “You don’t look like you.”

  Landon slowed his pace. “If I shave will you forgive me?”

  “Oh, a negotiation.”

  “Sweetie, I’m ready to beg,” Landon admitted. “If I thought it would work, I would get down on my hands and knees right here.”

  Even though the visual held some appeal, that wasn’t what I wanted. “I don’t want you to beg.”

  “I know you don’t, but I’m desperate to give you whatever it is you do need to forgive me.” Landon made a grab for my hand – it was second nature to him, after all – before he thought better of it and ceased his efforts. “I know you still love me. I’m not going to give up.”

  “Of course I still love you.”

  Landon’s expression brightened. “Thank you for saying it.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m not upset.”

  “I know you are. I’ll give you the space and time you need to get over it. I promise.”

  “It might take more than one night,” I warned.

  “I understand that.” He didn’t look happy with the prospect, but he didn’t argue. In fact, the lines around his eyes were so pronounced that I couldn’t help but wonder when he last had a good night’s sleep.

  “I just need a little time to think,” I said, the guesthouse popping into view as we crested a hill.

  “You’ll have all of the time you need,” Landon said. “Love doesn’t go away just because of a disagreement, and mine isn’t going anywhere.”

  “I guess that’s good.”

  “Ever, Bay. My love isn’t going anywhere ever.”

  I blinked back tears as I fumbled for the keys to the guesthouse. Landon ultimately grabbed my key ring, selected the right key and slipped it in the lock.

  “Get some sleep, sweetie,” Landon whispered. “I’ll see you at breakfast.” He pressed a surprise kiss to my forehead. “Lock the door once you’re inside.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Landon mustered a grin. “It’s going to be okay. Have a little faith.”

  “I did have faith,” I reminded him. “I think I lost it by a corn maze.”

  “It’s a little ironic that you originally found that faith in a corn maze, isn’t it?”

  “Ironic or coincidental?”

  “Does it matter?”

  I shrugged. “I guess not. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You definitely will.” Landon stood in front of the guesthouse and watched until I locked the door. Then he offered a small wave before turning and trudging back to the inn. I considered stopping him, my hand on the door handle as I opened my mouth to call him back. Something to my right caught my attention, though, and when I swiveled I found I couldn’t catch my breath thanks to a fast-moving shadow.

  Someone was in the guesthouse. I was sure of it.

  It wasn’t a ghost. I would’ve recognized Viola’s telltale presence. No, it was a human, and it was someone who wasn’t supposed to be in my home.

  “Who’s there?” My voice was barely a whisper.

  No ans
wer.

  “I know you’re there,” I narrowed my eyes and reached out with my heightened senses.

  No answer again.

  My inner danger alarm went into overdrive as I heard the unmistakable sound of shoes on the floor. I turned swiftly, opening my mouth to scream for Landon. I wasn’t fast enough. A hand clamped over my mouth and dragged me from the door.

  I fought against my assailant, briefly marveling at the strength I felt in the corded forearm muscles. I couldn’t dwell on that for long, though, because the hands wrapped around my throat and cut off my air supply.

  I slapped against the stranger’s hands and clawed at his flesh, but it was fruitless. As my vision dimmed at the edges I found myself floating forward before slamming back into the wall next to the door, my head hitting with enough force to knock me for a loop.

  I struggled to hold onto consciousness.

  It was impossible. I slid into darkness as my body crumpled to the floor.

  Eight

  I woke in a slow roll instead of a pitched burst. Everything hurt. My neck ached, but nowhere near as badly as the back of my head. It took me a few minutes to get my bearings, and it was only after I registered the fact that I was wet – a cold rain pelting my face – that I finally managed to force open my eyes.

  I rested over the threshold, my head on the front porch and my legs inside the guesthouse. It was dark, clouds obscuring the moon as the rain came down in a steady sheet. I was confused – go figure – and all I could wonder was when it had started raining. I vaguely remembered hearing a weather forecast earlier in the day, but I was certain it wasn’t supposed to start storming until after midnight.

  I rolled to a sitting position, realizing too late that I might not be alone. The events of the evening came back in bits and pieces, and that’s when I remembered that someone had been inside of the guesthouse when I returned. That someone hadn’t been happy.

  Instinct told me to flee into the guesthouse and call for help. Fear kept me from doing that. What if my assailant was still inside? What if he was waiting to finish the job? I brushed off that thought almost immediately. If my attacker wanted to kill me he had plenty of time while I was unconscious. He must be gone.

  Of course, I couldn’t be completely certain it was a man. The strength in the hands, though, led me to believe that it couldn’t have been a woman. Still … .

  Something caught my attention and I groaned as I shifted my head to the left. An odd lump stretched across the width of the pathway that led to the guesthouse from the driveway. It was a big lump, though I had trouble making out the shape.

  I forced myself to stand, straggling in that direction as I furrowed my brow. I couldn’t figure out what I stared at until I was almost on top of it … er, I mean her. Yes, it was a her. I recognized the face even as I struggled for a name. I didn’t realize I was standing in blood until the realization that I was looking at a dead body rolled over me.

  I dug in my pocket for my cell phone, panic overtaking me. I hit number two on my speed dial and almost cried out in relief when a sleepy voice answered.

  “Chief Terry?”

  “Bay?” Chief Terry’s voice went from muddled to alert in an instant. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

  “I need you to come to the guesthouse. I … can you please come?”

  “Of course, sweetheart. Bay, what’s wrong?”

  “Someone was here. I … someone was here and I got thrown into the wall.”

  Chief Terry’s voice turned gruff. “How bad are you hurt, honey?”

  “I don’t know, but … someone’s dead.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a body. There’s a person. I … can you please help me?”

  “Sweetheart, are you safe? Is someone there who can hurt you?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure he’s gone.” My teeth chattered as shock gave way to reality. “I need you to come now.”

  “I’m on my way, Bay. Don’t move. I … I will be right there.”

  I disconnected. For lack of anything better to do – including going inside – I moved back to the steps and sat. Then I stared into nothing, letting my mind float, and waited for help to arrive.

  “BAY!”

  Chief Terry’s face was flushed as he bolted from his police cruiser a few minutes later and raced in my direction.

  I recognized his voice and jerked my head in his direction, throwing off the remaining cobwebs as I climbed to shaky feet. “Thank you for coming.” I threw my arms around his neck, letting his warmth center me as he rocked back and forth. When I pulled back I saw his gaze was already focused on the body.

  “Are you sure she’s dead?”

  I nodded. “I didn’t understand at first. I was confused.”

  “Stay here a second.” Chief Terry left me in the middle of the walkway and moved toward the body. His expression was grim as he dropped to a knee. There was no reason to check for signs of life. Becky’s eyes remained fixed and sightless, staring at something only she could see from the moment I discovered her. “She’s dead.”

  “I already told you that.”

  Chief Terry mustered a horrific grin that was more a grimace than anything else as he moved back in my direction. “I called the state police because we’re going to need some help. The medical examiner is on his way, too. I believed you when you told me what you found. I simply had to confirm it.”

  Mollified, I pressed my lips together. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Chief Terry chided. “I need you to tell me what happened.”

  “I’m not sure … .”

  “I need you to try,” Chief Terry pressed, resting his hands on my shoulders to center me. “Before the state boys get here and this is taken out of my hands, I need to know what happened.”

  It was only then that I realized I might be in more trouble than I initially envisioned. “Oh.”

  “Bay, focus on me,” Chief Terry ordered, his voice commanding. “Tell me what happened.”

  I launched into the tale, never taking a misstep besides the few stops and starts I needed to keep things linear. When I was done, a cool rage cascaded over Chief Terry’s face as he led me back to the step.

  “I’m going to turn on the outside light, sweetheart,” he said, reaching inside. “Hold still.”

  I did as instructed, blinking rapidly when the bright light flooded the porch and my head pounded with pain. “Ow.”

  “Yeah, I’m worried you might have a concussion,” Chief Terry offered, his hands gentle as they swept over the back of my head. “You have a big knot back here. What time did all of this happen, Bay?”

  “I’m not sure,” I tried to retrieve my memory. “I … it had to be around eight or so, I think.”

  “It was after midnight when you called me,” Chief Terry noted. “That means you were unconscious for four hours.”

  That couldn’t be right. Still, it felt later when I woke, like somehow my inner body clock marked time while I was out of it. “What happens now?”

  “I’m not sure.” Chief Terry tilted up my chin and frowned as he stared at my neck. “That’s going to bruise badly.”

  “I don’t care about that,” I gritted out. “I need to know what she’s doing here.”

  “Do you recognize her?”

  I nodded, my heart sinking. “She’s the woman who was with Landon at the corn maze the other day.”

  Chief Terry’s face remained immovable, but I didn’t miss his sharp intake of breath. “Are you sure?”

  “I didn’t recognize her when I called you. I mean … I did. I knew I recognized the face. It wasn’t until I sat down that it all came back.”

  “Well, that isn’t good.”

  “You’re a marvel with words.”

  This time the rueful grin Chief Terry mustered was real. “Honey, where is Landon? Why didn’t you call him?”

  Uh-oh. I didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than I already
did. I was wrong. “I forgot he was around when I first called. You were the first person who popped into my head. He’s been gone for weeks.”

  “Well, that’s flattering, but where is Landon? Did he go back to Traverse City because you were fighting?”

  I shook my head. “He rented a room at the inn.”

  “Well, this is going to suck.” Chief Terry tugged his phone out of his pocket at the same time the emergency vehicle lights pulled into the driveway. “I’ll call him. You sit there and rest. Everything will be okay.”

  I wasn’t sure I should believe him, but I really wanted to.

  “BAY!”

  Landon made it to the guesthouse in fifteen minutes. The property was already taped off and the state police were in the midst of questioning me when he made his appearance. He was disheveled, the beard giving him a tough quality as he flashed his badge to move past the trooper cutting him off.

  “Are you okay?” Landon ignored the fact that we were in the middle of an argument and tugged me to him.

  “Watch her head,” Chief Terry instructed, exiting the guesthouse. The look he gave Landon was anything but friendly. “She took a blow, but refuses to go the hospital.”

  “I’m okay.”

  Landon’s fingers were gentle as he carefully rubbed them over the back of my head. “That’s some knot, sweetie.”

  “We need photographs of that.” Trooper Rob Davis eyed Landon with speculative eyes. “I’ll need to talk to you, too, Agent Michaels.”

  Landon arched an eyebrow, surprised. “Fine. I wasn’t here when this happened, though. I’m still not sure what happened.”

  “Someone was inside the guesthouse when you dropped me off,” I supplied. “I felt someone inside. I tried to call out for you, but … .” I broke off, swallowing hard.

  “Whoever it was grabbed her around the throat and slammed her into a wall,” Chief Terry finished, causing Landon to growl. “She was unconscious for about four hours. The emergency responders took some blood to see if she was drugged, because otherwise the fact that she was unconscious for so long is cause for concern.”

  “The fact that she was unconscious at all is cause for concern,” Landon grumbled. “So … who is it?” He shifted his eyes to the medical examiner toiling next to the prone form on the ground. “Is that the man who attacked you? If so, it was clearly self-defense.”