I narrowed my eyes as Chief Terry slid me a curious look. “I’ll eat my breakfast and be quiet,” I gritted out.
Mom was haughty as she spun on her heel and headed for the other side of the table. “That’s what I thought.”
Chief Terry forked three pancakes onto his plate, adding bacon and sausage before reaching for the syrup. “Do I even want to know what’s going on?”
“No,” Landon replied. “It’s typical Winchester crap.”
“I heard that,” Aunt Tillie snapped.
“I wasn’t whispering.”
“Don’t make me put you on my list.”
“Don’t make me put you on my list,” Landon shot back. “Given your story this morning, I think you should be worried about me for a change.”
“Whatever.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “I’m so over this breakfast.”
“That makes two of us.” Thistle had barely touched her food in lieu of rubbing her forehead. “I feel as if I’ve been hit by a runaway broom.”
“Why?” Chief Terry asked, focusing on Thistle’s drawn features. “Are you sick?”
“Hungover,” Aunt Tillie supplied. “The girl has turned into a lush. It’s sad.”
“Yeah, I can tell already that I don’t want to know what’s going on,” Chief Terry said. “Let’s talk about something else. Who wants to hear about my night?”
Mom, Marnie and Twila shot up their hands at the same time, all three of them gracing Chief Terry with flirty smiles.
“I always want to hear about how you spend your time,” Mom said.
“I always want to hear about it, too,” Twila added.
“I always want to show you a better way to spend your time,” Marnie said, taking control of the conversation. “I think you should take me up on that offer one day.”
“Oh, geez,” Chief Terry muttered under his breath. “What exactly did I walk in on this morning?”
“Just the beginning of the winter wilds,” I replied. “You know how stir crazy we get when we can’t spend a lot of time outside and away from one another.”
“Yes, I remember when you were seventeen and your mother dropped you and your cousins at my house for a slumber party,” Chief Terry said. “Most other mothers would not drop three teenagers on a single man because it would cause talk, but your mother didn’t care.”
“Yes, well, you knew us when we were teenagers,” I pointed out. “She needed a break.”
“I have a feeling I’ll need a break pretty soon,” Chief Terry said. “What were we talking about again?”
“You were going to tell us about your night,” Clove prodded helpfully. “Your night has to be better than our night.”
“Right.” Chief Terry bobbed his head. “So, I get a call shortly after one in the morning. Guess who it was.” He continued, not waiting for us to answer. “Margaret Little called. She was convinced someone broke into the new magic store.”
Uh-oh. I risked a glance at Landon and found him calmly eating his breakfast. He didn’t look bothered in the least.
“I tried talking her down, but she wouldn’t listen, so I had to drive to the store in the middle of the night.” Chief Terry was oblivious to the growing tension at the table. “Apparently she has an extra key to Scarlet Darksbane’s store and let herself in, which is technically against the law. I confiscated the key.”
“Huh.” I had no idea what else to say. “Did you find anything?”
“Who knows,” Chief Terry replied. “The store is a mess because she’s unpacking things. It looked normal to me. Margaret swore up and down she heard noises in the alley, so I guess I’m going to have to force someone to patrol that alley regularly. It’s going to take a bit out of my budget, but what else can I do?”
Crap on a cracker. “Well … .” I didn’t want Chief Terry to get in trouble for something we did.
“Zip your lips, Bay,” Aunt Tillie whispered. “If you don’t … .” She mimed drawing an invisible knife over her neck.
“What’s going on down there?” Chief Terry asked, focusing on Aunt Tillie. “Am I missing something?”
“Well … .”
“I will make you cry if you’re not careful, Bay,” Aunt Tillie warned.
“You’re not missing anything,” Landon interjected smoothly, murdering Aunt Tillie with a harsh look before shifting his gaze. “Bay and I were in the alley last night. You don’t need to increase security. It was us.”
“You?” Chief Terry was flabbergasted. “But … why?”
“Well … .” Now it was Landon’s turn to flounder.
“They were playing a sex game,” Aunt Tillie announced before I could think up a lie. “They were muttering something about fighting the law and the law winning this morning. I know. I think it’s disgusting, too. They should both be flogged.”
Chief Terry’s expression was incredulous. “You went to the alley behind Scarlet Darksbane’s store to play a sex game?”
“No, we went to the alley behind Hypnotic,” Landon corrected. “She’s exaggerating about the sex game stuff.”
Only barely. By the time we got to Landon’s vehicle we were most certainly playing a game of sorts. “Definitely exaggerating,” I echoed.
“Yeah, I don’t want to know.” Chief Terry held up his hand to stop further discussion. “Whatever you were doing, keep it to yourselves and don’t let Margaret Little know. She’ll make a big deal out of it if she finds out, and she already thinks this entire family is made up of demented perverts.”
“I worked hard to make her believe it, too,” Aunt Tillie said, flashing a smile for Landon’s benefit. “So … everything is fine, right?”
Chief Terry shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“No reason.” Aunt Tillie’s smile didn’t falter, instead growing more evil as she pinned Landon with a gaze. “See. Everything is perfectly fine. There’s no reason to get your panties in a twist.”
“I feel like twisting something,” Landon said.
“Oh, you know exactly how to flatter me.” Aunt Tillie took a huge bite of sausage and then continued to speak with her mouth full. “So … what is everyone doing today?”
I didn’t know about everyone else, but I was considering finding a hole to hide in. That was the only way Landon wouldn’t bring this up later.
Fifteen
“Are you coming back to the guesthouse with me?”
Landon found me in the library shortly after breakfast. I left him to chat with Chief Terry, both out of respect for him and the need to mess with Thistle and her hangover. I knew he’d track me down before leaving.
“I think I’m going to stay here for a bit,” I replied. “I want to talk to Aunt Tillie.”
“Why? I think she’s already done enough damage for twenty-four hours, don’t you?”
“If you think that’s the best she can do, you’re in for a big surprise.” I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s normal Aunt Tillie stuff. You were around a bit last winter, but you weren’t a regular guest until after Christmas. She goes stir crazy in winter. She’ll be much worse in a few weeks.”
“I was around last winter,” Landon argued. “I came back right when she was getting into her plowing groove for the year.”
I smiled at the memory. “That was funny. You threatened to revoke her license.”
“You didn’t think it was funny when I first came back.”
“No. I didn’t know what to think then,” I conceded. “I was glad to see you, but I was afraid you would take off again.”
“And now?”
“And now I know you’re addicted to me and will never take off again.”
“Good answer.” Landon smacked a loud kiss against my lips. “What are you going to do today? I tried to ask in an unobtrusive way, but you kind of blew me off over breakfast.”
“I didn’t blow you off. I simply don’t have an answer. I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
“But you’re staying here?”
“I’m s
taying here to show Aunt Tillie the photos of the journal,” I explained. “After that, I’m not sure. What are you doing?”
“Getting back to the basics,” Landon replied. “We have a dead woman and no idea what happened to her. She’s in a town full of strangers. When dealing with murder, it makes more sense to look at immediate family. The ritual nature of those symbols adds a certain edge to things that I’m not entirely comfortable with, though.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, if I go with my gut, I believe that someone she knows killed her and tried to make it look like a ritual murder so people would jump all over the residents,” Landon supplied. “She was strangled, by the way. I’m not sure I told you that.”
“Strangled?” That didn’t seem to fit the tableau in town square. “Not that strangulation isn’t violent, but I thought you might find another cause of death. I don’t know why. It’s stupid really.”
“It’s not stupid,” Landon argued. “It’s hard to reconcile what you saw with strangulation. I get it. The thing is, strangulation is one of those things that’s generally not premeditated unless you’re a serial killer and want to get up close and personal with your victim.”
“Which we’re likely not dealing with.”
“No. Strangulation is one of those heat-of-the-moment murders.”
“But someone clearly gave what they did after – draining the blood and drawing the symbols – a lot of thought.”
“Did they? You said yourself that the symbols made no sense.”
“I guess.” I rolled my neck, uncertain. “What happens now?”
“Now we’re going to spend some time questioning the troupe members who weren’t as close with Adele,” Landon replied. “They’re all family members in some way, but the closer the family member, the more likely they are to gloss over certain things about a loved one that they believe might not be flattering.”
“Like if Adele dressed up as Lady Gaga and moonlighted at a strip club?”
“Exactly.” Landon tapped the end of my nose. “I know you’re convinced that Scarlet Darksbane had something to do with this, but the odds aren’t in favor. That doesn’t mean we’ll overlook her or ignore your gut. It simply means we have to look everywhere.”
“I know. I never said that Scarlet was a murderer, by the way. I only said she was up to something.”
“What?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Hopefully Aunt Tillie will be able to decipher this and find out.”
“Do you think that’s possible?”
“Anything is possible.”
“Including you accidentally finding trouble,” Landon said. “Be good and be safe. If you get anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
“You do the same.”
“I should be home in plenty of time for dinner. Maybe, once we’re finished, we can play another rousing game of ‘I Fought the Law.’”
I didn’t want to encourage him, but I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “This time the sultry robber is going to win.”
“I’m perfectly fine with that.”
I FOUND AUNT TILLIE in the family living quarters, her attention diverted by the television.
“I don’t understand why we need five hours of morning shows these days,” she complained. “In my day we had one hour of morning shows and it was called the news.”
I snickered. “I didn’t picture you as a Today show fan.”
“I’m not, but there’s nothing else to watch,” Aunt Tillie complained. “I already binged the entire new season of Stranger Things, and The Walking Dead doesn’t come back on until February. I’m going through withdrawal.”
“Total bummer.” I sat on the couch and handed her my phone. “Tell me what you see when you look at these photos.”
Aunt Tillie made a strange face. “If you’re about to show me something sexual from your night in the alley with Landon I will curse you to within an inch of your life.”
“If you make me smell like bacon again you’ll only make Landon more powerful.”
“And he has enough power,” Aunt Tillie groused. “What food does he hate? The boy inhales food as if we’re about to be overcome by zombies and he’s going to spend the rest of his life on the run.”
“He doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies,” I lied. “Try making me smell like that.”
“Whatever.” Aunt Tillie made a face even a great-niece couldn’t love. “I’m not a rookie. If I make you smell like cookies we’ll never see you again. Landon will finally follow through and cuff you to him permanently.”
She had a point. “The photos aren’t of Landon and me. They’re of a journal we found in Scarlet Darksbane’s safe. It’s written in some sort of code or another language I don’t think I’ve ever seen. I don’t recognize it.”
Aunt Tillie’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. “Wait a second … are you telling me that ‘The Man’ not only stuck around after catching you breaking and entering, he also helped you open a safe?”
“I was equally surprised. He didn’t even yell.”
Aunt Tillie was tickled. “He’s coming along nicely.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I worried about him at first,” Aunt Tillie said, her finger busy as she looked through the photos, occasionally stopping to enlarge something for a better look. “I thought he was too much of a straight arrow to fit in with us. He’s not a straight arrow any longer.
“I thought there was a time he’d choose duty over protecting our family secret, but he’s done the exact opposite,” she continued. “He’s done nothing but put you first. There are times … well, it’s weird to say, but there are times he reminds me of your Uncle Calvin.”
And that right there was the greatest compliment Aunt Tillie could bestow upon Landon. By all accounts, Uncle Calvin was some sort of a saint for putting up with her. No one else ever would. Wait … if Uncle Calvin was Landon in this scenario, does that mean … ? Ugh!
“Are you saying I’m you?”
Aunt Tillie grinned at the question. “That’s your worst fear realized, isn’t it?”
“Landon isn’t Uncle Calvin,” I said after a beat, determined to prove her wrong. “He’s not a saint. He has saint-like qualities at times – like when he puts up with family dinner and whatever shenanigans you’re embroiled in – but he’s no saint. Now Marcus is a different story. He’s totally a saint. He’s Uncle Calvin and Thistle is you.”
“That’s a definite possibility.” Aunt Tillie wrinkled her nose as she stared at the photos. “I don’t recognize this. Whatever it is, she either made it up or stole it from a book I’m not familiar with. It’s definitely not Theban … or Klingon.”
“Is there a way we can determine what it is?”
“I’m emailing the photos to myself,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I have a few places I can check. I saw you talking to Landon in the library. He looked serious. Do you really believe this new witch is a murderer?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Hey, if you believe it, I believe it.” Aunt Tillie held up her hands to placate me. “I’m predisposed not to like her. Disliking someone and believing they’re capable of murder are two entirely different things, though.”
“You sound like Landon.”
“I’m going to help you even though you said that.” Aunt Tillie got to her feet. “Just think about what I said. I know you’re spouting the standard party line that you don’t believe she’s capable of murder, but deep down inside I’m not sure that’s true.”
“Landon said that Adele Twigg was strangled,” I said. “He said that strangulation is a method of murder when two people know each other well and are arguing. Do you believe that?”
“I’m not a cop.”
“For which every cop I know is forever thankful. I’m having trouble understanding how someone who knew Adele Twigg could do what they did with the symbols.”
“There’s a lot of ugliness in the world, Bay. You’ll never be a
ble to understand all of it.”
“Yeah, I get that.” I heaved out a sigh. “If you can find anything on this code she’s using, give me a call. I’m heading into town.”
“To do what?”
“Work.”
Aunt Tillie wasn’t convinced. “What are you really going to do?”
“See if I can spy on Scarlet Darksbane or shake answers out of Mrs. Little,” I answered sheepishly.
Aunt Tillie chuckled. “You’re coming along nicely, too. You get more and more like me with each passing year.”
“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I PARKED IN FRONT of Hypnotic. I considered heading straight to the newspaper office, but Brian Kelly’s Ford was parked in front, and I wasn’t keen on exchanging bitter looks and biting sarcasm with him. I’d much rather irritate Thistle, who was stretched out on the couch when I entered the store.
“Good morning, cousins!” I yelled the greeting much louder than necessary because Thistle is fun to mess with when she’s hungover.
“I will kill you if you don’t shut up,” Thistle growled, never moving her arm from shielding her eyes.
“She’s crabby,” Clove said apologetically as she organized herbs behind the counter. “I told her to go home and sleep it off, but she told me to stuff it and now we’re not speaking.”
“And yet I can still hear you talking,” Thistle complained. “Why are you talking?”
“I’m talking to Bay, not you.”
“Whatever.”
I managed to bite back the urge to mess with Thistle further and instead joined Clove at the counter. “Did you get in trouble with Sam last night?”
“I told Sam what we were doing before I left,” Clove replied. “He thought it was a dumb idea, but he didn’t try to stop me. He’s not an FBI agent, so he doesn’t really care when I break the law.”
“What about Marcus?” I flicked a curious look to Thistle. “Did he care?”
“He said he had a great night’s sleep because I wasn’t hogging the covers,” Thistle mumbled. “He didn’t even know I slept on the bathroom floor.”
“You slept on the bathroom floor? You barely drank anything.”
A Witch Before Dying (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 11) Page 14