Aunt Tillie immediately set about drawing lines on the ground with a can of spray paint, drawing my attention when I realized she was creating a modified pentagram. “Why are you painting a devil’s snare?”
Landon followed my gaze, the question meaning nothing to him but my tone tipping him off that something was different about tonight’s main event. “What’s a devil’s snare?”
“It’s a trap,” I replied. “It means she expects Becky’s ghost to put up a fight.”
“If you already know the answer, why did you ask the question?” Aunt Tillie challenged.
“Perhaps I merely want to be teacher’s pet,” I suggested. “Have you ever considered that?”
“Oh, I guess that makes you my pet chicken,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Go cluck over there and help Clove light the candles.”
I did as instructed, abandoning further conversation regarding the devil’s snare. I knew why Aunt Tillie erected the trap. I wasn’t generally keen on holding spirits against their will – it seemed a form of torture to me – but I couldn’t argue with the necessity in this case.
“Okay, we’re ready,” Aunt Tillie said a few minutes later, giving the multitude of candles an approving look. “Let’s bring this bitch back to Earth.”
I flicked the ridge of Aunt Tillie’s ear. “You can’t call her names.”
“Why not? She’s dead. She can’t do anything.”
“It’s tacky.”
“Since when have I cared about that?” Aunt Tillie waved her hands, directing Thistle, Clove and me where to go. I cast a glance over my shoulder to offer Landon a reassuring smile and found him moving up behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to be with you when you do this,” Landon replied, moving his hands along the backs of my arms until his fingers linked with mine. “I want to feel it.”
I widened my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I glanced at Aunt Tillie, who merely smiled.
“He won’t hurt anything,” Aunt Tillie said, taking her spot across the way so she faced me. “It might do him some good to feel. Just don’t feel her up, Romeo. I don’t want her distracted.”
“I’ll try to refrain,” Landon said dryly. His heart thumped behind my head, the rate slightly elevated. “What happens now?”
“Shh.” Aunt Tillie admonished him with a finger to her lips and pressed her eyes shut. “We call upon the power of the four corners,” she intoned. “We’re searching for one soul in a sea of the lost. Bring us Becky Patterson – that would be the Becky Patterson who liked to sell meth and write in a children’s diary, by the way, just so there’s no confusion because that’s probably a common name. Bring us the dead.”
Landon was quiet longer than I expected, but then he broke the silence with a whisper in my ear. “That was kind of anticlimactic. I expected chanting … and rhyming … and magic.”
“Wait for it.”
As if on cue, the candles flared brighter, the flames climbing dangerously high. The wind picked up, but it didn’t affect the flames because they were bolstered by our bloodlines. Then the whispering started, drawing a white mist to the center of the pentagram, swirling faster and building to a crescendo that almost sounded like a scream.
Landon flinched behind me but never faltered. When the wind ceased and the screaming abated, a very angry spirit found herself trapped in the center of the pentagram.
“I am going to rip your throat out.”
As far as opening lines go, I had to give her credit. It was fairly impressive. “Oh, well, um … .” I wasn’t sure what to say.
“We definitely need to work on your social skills,” Aunt Tillie said, shaking her head. “It’s tragic how bad you are at confrontation. You lived in a house with me for most of your life, for crying out loud. You need to learn to lay down the law.”
“I think she does fine with confrontation,” Landon countered, staring at the spot in the middle of the pentagram as if he could see what was trapped inside.
I studied his face for a long time, finally uttering the obvious question. “Can you see her?”
Landon nodded. “She’s faint, but I see her.”
I flicked my eyes to Aunt Tillie, dumbfounded. “Is that normal?”
Aunt Tillie shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “He’s seen things before. I think he’s always had the ability, but he’s far too pragmatic to embrace the fantastical at times. Maybe your recent problems altered things. Maybe you’re simply sharing your power with him and don’t realize it.”
That was an interesting thought. Of course, I had other things to worry about, especially given the fact that Becky seemed determined to test the boundaries on the devil’s snare in an attempt to escape. “You can’t get out,” I called out. “You’re not staying. We called you here to answer a few questions and then you’ll go back.”
Becky was haughty when she fixed me with a dark look. “And what if I don’t want to answer your questions?”
“Maybe you don’t have a choice,” I shot back. “Maybe we’ll make you answer the questions. How does that sound?”
“Like I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” Becky spat, her eyes firing to an evil red. Her anger was off the charts. I should’ve expected that. She was murderous before her traumatic death. The fact that she had been double-crossed merely made matters worse.
“I figured that was why you were there.”
Landon tightened his grip on my hands, wrapping my arms around my middle – his fingers connected to mine – and keeping me close as he focused on the spirit. “I can’t believe this.”
“You and me both, honey.”
I felt Landon’s lips curve against my cheek before he focused on Becky. “When did you know?”
“That you were a Fed? Not until the day we ran into her at the corn maze,” Becky replied, her anger obvious. “I was interested in you before that, but Doug warned me I might be making a mistake. He never trusted you. That day I knew he was right. I saw the way you looked at her and I knew.”
Landon appeared unbothered by her words. “I figured. I wasn’t expecting to see her. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.”
“It was the old lady who really sealed things,” Becky said. “She acted strange – I mean really odd – and Doug and I both knew there was something more going on. We had a runner in the parking lot. Cyclone. I’m sure you remember him. Total idiot, but excellent driver. He followed the old lady and the blonde to Hemlock Cove.”
“Stop calling me old,” Aunt Tillie barked.
Becky ignored her. “It was easy to figure out what was going on once Cyclone hit town,” she continued. “He asked the first person he saw about the blonde and heard an earful about witches … and some hotel named from a movie … and the blonde’s FBI boyfriend.”
“Why didn’t you kill me?” Landon asked the question calmly, but it made my stomach clench. “Why go after Bay?”
“We needed you distracted,” Becky replied. “It was obvious you were going to move on us. We simply didn’t know when. Doug prepared everything so we could run that last day, take the product and money and leave everyone else to be arrested. The second we caught wind of the first arrest we were gone.
“We devised the plan the night we found out who you were,” she continued. “We knew we would have to kill the girl. It was easy to find out where she lived. According to people in town, she spent most of her time alone while her boyfriend was away. People thought there was something strange about that.
“Our plan was to kill her as a message to you and then run,” Becky said, grim. “Things didn’t quite happen the way we’d planned.”
“So … what?” I asked, burrowing closer to Landon, thankful for his warmth. “You and Doug went to the guesthouse, hid inside and knocked me out when I came home. Then he turned on you?”
“I … think so.” For the first time Becky stumbled. “I’m not quite sure. Things just went black at on
e point. We were talking and then … I wasn’t there any longer. I was someplace else.”
“I’m hoping you went to a bad place,” Clove muttered.
“From where I’m standing, every place I’ve ever been is bad,” Becky seethed. “Why have you people called me here? I didn’t want to come back. I didn’t want to see any of you. I’m guessing all of that crazy witch talk in town is true. That’s the only thing that explains … this.”
“It’s definitely true,” I said. “We need to know where to find Doug. Do you have any idea where he is?”
“I obviously don’t know Doug at all.” Becky was bitter. I would’ve been, too. “Our plan was to kill you and cross the Canadian border while Landon was distracted and mourning. We were going to drive north right away and disappear in the terrain up there.”
“Do you think Doug went without you?” Landon asked.
“I have no idea what Doug did,” Becky snapped. “I don’t care. I don’t care about any of you!”
Her anger was palpable, but I couldn’t help feeling a small tug of sympathy. “I read your diary.” It was a stupid thing to say, but I wouldn’t get another chance. “I saw how unhappy you were, bitter. You always seemed to blame someone else for your misfortune.
“It was always your mother’s fault … or your sister’s fault … or Doug’s fault,” I continued. “Why was nothing ever your fault?”
“Because I always did things the way I was supposed to do them.”
“Except you didn’t,” I argued. “You always did the wrong thing and complained about someone calling you on it. When you juxtapose that with someone like Landon, who always tries to do the right thing and then beats himself up when the situation goes awry, I find it a bit obnoxious.”
“That’s easy for you to say, isn’t it?” Becky sneered. “You’ve got your pretty boyfriend … and your pretty house … and your pretty life. Everything always goes right for you, doesn’t it? Heck, I’ll bet you’re even a real blonde.”
“She is,” Landon confirmed, bobbing his head. “As for the rest, nobody’s life is perfect. The key is picking up the pieces when your life shatters and finding a way to move on. That’s what you refused to do.”
“Now I’m getting philosophical advice from a Fed. How fun is that?”
Landon had clearly had enough of the snark. “If you don’t have anything to share with us, this is a waste of time.”
“I don’t know what to tell you!” Becky bellowed. “I don’t know what happened to me. My sister always told me to be careful of Doug. I never listened. I guess I should’ve at least once, huh? I probably wouldn’t be here.
“I don’t know where Doug is or what he has planned,” she continued. “He didn’t share anything with me. I can’t help you.”
“And even if you could, you wouldn’t,” I finished.
Becky bobbed her head. “Pretty much.”
“I guess that’s it, then,” Thistle said, shaking her head. “We’re no further along than we were this morning. We have no idea where to look.”
“We could still cast the locator spell,” I suggested. “In fact, I’m starting to think … .” I trailed off at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching, shifting my eyes to the right and staring at the pathway.
“Who is that?” Thistle asked, squinting. “If it’s my mother I’m going to run and hide. She keeps trying to coordinate things so we can have matching Halloween costumes. No one wants that.”
She wasn’t wrong. I was about to suggest a particularly embarrassing ensemble when a figure appeared at the edge of the clearing and took my breath away. It wasn’t Twila. It wasn’t Marcus or Sam, who remained at the inn to make sure no one escaped out the front door when Mom and my aunts weren’t looking. In fact, it was the one person we didn’t want catching us in the woods.
“What in the hell is going on here?” Noah asked, his face ashen. “Are you people … doing witch stuff?”
“Uh-oh.”
Twenty-Eight
“Seriously, what in the hell is going on here?”
Noah looked like a man on the edge of sanity as he glanced around the clearing. His gaze didn’t hover close to Becky – which told me he was unaware we’d summoned a departed soul – so that appeared to be our only bit of good news.
“Is this an orgy?”
Noah’s question threw me for a loop. “Excuse me?”
“It has to be some sort of weird orgy,” Noah said, his mind clearly busy as his gaze bounced between faces. “I mean … look at those two.” He inclined his head in my direction and I realized Landon’s fingers were still wrapped around mine. “They’re clearly doing something funky.”
Instead of reacting with threats and anger, Aunt Tillie merely blasted Noah with a look that would’ve shriveled the balls of most men, and made a clucking sound as she shook her head. “An orgy? Does this look like an orgy to you?”
“They’re all over each other,” Noah argued, pointing toward Landon and me. “He’s feeling her up.”
“He’s not,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “I ordered him not to do that.”
“Like I would do it in front of you anyway,” Landon muttered.
“Still, they’re all over each other,” Noah pressed. “I’m pretty sure that’s against the law.”
“You’re an FBI agent,” Thistle pointed out dryly. “Shouldn’t you know what’s against the law?”
Noah nodded without hesitation. “Yes, and what they’re doing is against the law.”
“We’re on private property, you moron,” Landon snapped. “Plus, we’re not doing anything.”
“You’re … touching her.”
“I’m going to touch you with my fist,” Landon muttered.
“At best you have them for public indecency,” Aunt Tillie noted, adopting a pragmatic tone. “But this is private property, and we’d have to swear out a complaint. We might do that against Landon if he irritated us enough, but we would never do that to Bay. If you think what they’re doing constitutes an orgy, well, you need to start watching better porn. I can get you a list if you’re interested.”
Noah scorched Aunt Tillie with a dour look. “You’re trying to distract me. I know what you’re doing.”
“Oh, yeah? What are we doing?”
“I … .” Noah broke off, glancing around the clearing with a great deal of trepidation. “You’re doing something witchy,” he said finally, running the idea through his head and then glomming onto it with enthusiasm. “You’re doing something witchy!”
He was so excited that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Landon’s chest rumbled behind me as he chuckled, amusement coursing through him.
“This is Hemlock Cove,” Landon said, releasing his grip on my hands and stepping out from behind me. “Everyone does something witchy in Hemlock Cove.”
“It’s also almost Halloween,” Clove pointed out. “If we didn’t do something witchy before Halloween the tourists would not be happy.”
“Yeah, but … you’re really doing something witchy.” Noah glanced around, as if he expected to find confirmation among the candles. “What are you doing? Are you cursing someone?”
“If we were, we’d start out with you,” Aunt Tillie replied calmly. “In fact, that’s a fun idea. We should have an old-fashioned family game night and start it out by thinking up ways to curse you. The person who has the best idea wins a new car!” She bellowed the last bit as if she were Oprah, and danced around the circle, clearly enjoying herself.
“I’d suggest cursing him with boils on the butt, but he looks the type to already have those,” Thistle said.
“Oh, that’s gross.” Clove wrinkled her nose, but kept her gaze focused on Noah. “Does that make it uncomfortable when you sit?”
“You know what’s funny?” Thistle cackled. “When we were kids we used to call people ‘zit face’ as an insult.”
“You stopped that when I started teaching you better insults,” Aunt Tillie pointed out.
“Yes, but I’m talking when we were young and dumb,” Thistle said. “If Agent Stick-Up-His-Butt has zits on his butt he is also a zit face. We’re right back to being in fifth grade. My, how the world changes … and yet stays the same.”
“Yes, that’s almost profound,” Landon noted, shaking his head. “What are you even doing here, Noah? This is private property. You have no right to be wandering around.”
“That’s not true,” Noah countered. “I can cross onto private property if I believe a crime is being committed.”
“Oh, really?” Landon cocked a challenging eyebrow. “What crime do you think is being committed here?”
“He said he thought it was an orgy,” Clove supplied.
“I’m not sure that’s a crime,” Thistle argued. “If we were doing it in the middle of Main Street, then maybe.”
“We’re not doing it at all,” Landon pointed out. “I need to know what crime you think we were committing out here, Agent Glenn. It’s going to be very important for the report I file tomorrow morning.”
Noah balked, his jaw working. “You can’t file a report. You have no standing on this case.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t file a report about my personal rights being trampled,” Landon replied, his tone cold. “You just confirmed what I originally thought. I’m pretty sure you were warned to toe the line when it came to Bay. You know how I know that? Steve told me. Imagine how he’ll react when I tell him you trespassed.”
“Oh, yeah?” Noah’s eyes flashed. “And what’s going to happen when I tell him what you were doing?”
“What were we doing?” Landon challenged.
“You’re … standing in a circle,” Noah replied.
“Quick, somebody call the Feds,” Aunt Tillie said. “Five people are standing in a circle in the woods. It must be Armageddon. Wait … the Feds are already here. We’re saved.”
Noah ignored her. “You also lit candles.”
“So what?” Landon asked. “Hemlock Cove is a witch town and it’s almost Halloween. I can’t wait for you to explain to Steve that we were in a clearing with candles. That’s not even the weirdest thing they’ve done out here this season.”
Murder Most Witchy (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 10) Page 27