Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9

Home > Romance > Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9 > Page 9
Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9 Page 9

by Amanda M. Lee


  “I can live with that,” Landon said, leaning back in his chair and focusing on the scene out the window. The town square bustled with activity as Hemlock Cove’s usual players hurried to set up the festival. “I can’t believe you’re having a hoedown. I didn’t know you guys did that. I thought I’d seen every festival this place had to offer.”

  “Almost,” I said. “In a few weeks we’ll be back to the Halloween Festival … and the corn maze. Wow!” The reality hit me hard. “That will be the anniversary of when we first met.”

  Landon slid a sly look in my direction. “Who would’ve thought one person could turn my world upside down in such a short amount of time?”

  “In a good or a bad way?”

  “In the best way,” Landon answered. “You’re right, though. It’s been almost a year. That is just … odd.”

  “It’s crazy,” Chief Terry said. “You two are schmaltzy and it makes me want to smack your heads together to knock some sense into you. Still … I guess even I won’t forget the first time I saw you together.”

  “When was that?” I asked, racking my brain. “You weren’t at the corn maze the day we met.”

  “I wasn’t, but Landon was in my office when you barged in to ask questions about the case,” Chief Terry reminded me. “Don’t you remember? You were suspicious and he wouldn’t stop drooling. You weren’t even out the door before he started asking questions. In that exact instant, I knew he was going to be trouble.”

  I couldn’t help but be intrigued. “What questions did he ask?”

  If Landon was bothered by my curiosity, he didn’t show it. He leaned back in his chair and shot me a lazy grin. “I asked if you were mentally unbalanced.”

  “He asked if you were single,” Chief Terry corrected. “Actually, well, he asked if you were mentally unbalanced first because he thought you were nervous. Then he asked if you were single.”

  “And do you remember what you told me?” Landon asked.

  Chief Terry pressed his lips together and nodded. “I asked you if you wanted to find out how my boot felt in your behind.”

  “He warned me away from you,” Landon said, his eyes filled with mirth. “He wanted me to be aware that if I ever hurt you he would beat the snot out of me.”

  “I didn’t think it would get that far, but I needed to be certain,” Chief Terry said. “I can handle a lot in this world. You with a broken heart is not one of those things.”

  His words warmed me. He was something of a second father to me after my own disappeared for a long period when I was a kid. My father was back now, but our relationship was nowhere near as close as the one Chief Terry and I share.

  “I’m glad you were looking out for me,” I said. “It turns out you didn’t need to, because Landon is practically perfect, but thank you anyway.”

  “Did you hear that?” Landon asked, his grin impish. “I’m perfect.”

  “And I’m going to smack that stupid smile off your face if you’re not careful,” Chief Terry said. “Not that I’m not happy to stroll down memory lane, but I’m kind of curious what’s going on with you guys. Are things quiet at the inn?”

  “Things are never quiet at the inn,” Landon replied. “Never. There’s always some catastrophe to avert.”

  “And what is this week’s catastrophe?”

  “Well, for starters, Sam’s parents arrive tomorrow and they’re staying at The Overlook,” Landon supplied. “Clove has gone completely mental and is cleaning like a madwoman. I’m not joking. She’s scouring everything and refuses to play with her cousins, which is making both of them sad.”

  Chief Terry chuckled. “That sounds about right. What else?”

  “Bay and Thistle are at war over Clove’s old room,” Landon explained. “This morning Thistle locked us in Bay’s bedroom. I was fine with it, but Bay wasn’t happy. I think she might be a little claustrophobic. It’s weird to find that out one year in.”

  “We didn’t get together right after we met,” I reminded him. “That took a little time.”

  “And a big exit from Landon,” Chief Terry said.

  Landon scowled. “Thanks for reminding me of that.” After finding out the truth regarding our witchy ancestry, Landon took a break from the relationship to think things over. It wasn’t long, and he’d been accepting ever since, but he hated being reminded about what happened.

  “You’re welcome,” Chief Terry said, not missing a beat. “What else is going on?”

  “Why do you ask?” I was suddenly suspicious. “Do you know something? Has Thistle tried to get you on her side so she can steal the extra bedroom?”

  Chief Terry made a face. “I don’t care about the bedroom.”

  “Plus, we both know he’d be on your side,” Landon said, flicking my ear. “There’s no reason to be paranoid. Let it go.”

  “I’m not paranoid.”

  “You’re always paranoid when it comes to Thistle these days. Let it go.”

  “Whatever.” I crossed my arms over my chest and locked gazes with Chief Terry. “Are you digging for information on something else?”

  “Not particularly,” Chief Terry said, rubbing his cheek. “It’s just … look over your shoulder.”

  “What?”

  “Look over your shoulder,” he prodded. “I think you’ll see what I was asking about.”

  I did as he asked, finding the table behind us empty. I was momentarily confused and then I lifted my eyes to the window, my mouth dropping open when I caught sight of Aunt Tillie walking down the street. She was dressed in pink camouflage pants, a pink satin jacket that had lettering I couldn’t read, and she was wearing a combat helmet.

  “What is she doing?” Landon asked, leaning forward.

  “I have no idea, but she’s been down here for three days straight,” Chief Terry replied. “She walks back and forth on the sidewalk. The distance spans one block. Do you know what she’s walking in front of?”

  It took me a moment to realize what Chief Terry was referring to. “She’s messing with Mrs. Little.”

  “Exactly,” Chief Terry said. “She paces in front of the store and stares inside. Margaret stares at her as she passes. It’s like a really weird showdown, although neither side talks to the other. I can’t figure out what they’re doing.”

  “Have you asked?”

  “I asked Margaret. She said Tillie is unbalanced and needs to be locked up,” Chief Terry replied. “I have not asked Aunt Tillie because … well … she’s wearing a combat helmet. I’m worried that means she’s armed. If she’s armed, I’ll have to arrest her. It seems like more trouble than it’s worth.”

  Landon laughed, delighted. “She is a trip, isn’t she? This morning she offered to join Bay in her war against Thistle. I don’t think she particularly wants to help Bay as much as she wants to irritate Thistle.”

  “Hey, I’ll take it,” I said. “Thistle is so diabolical I have a feeling I’m going to need Aunt Tillie.”

  “I don’t want the woman on my enemies list, but I’d totally take her into battle,” Chief Terry said. “As for whatever she’s doing with Margaret, I have a feeling that will play itself out in due time. Neither one of them can keep up the silent treatment for much longer.”

  “I only hope they don’t cause a scene when they decide to go at it,” Bay said. “That’s the last thing we need with Sam’s parents coming to town. Clove is a nervous wreck.”

  “Clove will be fine,” Chief Terry said. “She’s exactly the sort of girl mothers like.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “Am I the type of girl mothers like?” I knew I sounded whiny and petulant, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

  “You’re the kind of girl everyone likes,” Chief Terry answered. “You’re an angel.”

  “Oh, good grief,” Landon groused. “You say I’m schmaltzy, but you’re ten times worse.”

  “I don’t care,” Chief Terry said. “Bay has always been a good girl.”

  Another question nu
dged into the front of my brain. “Is Thistle the sort of girl mothers like?”

  I could tell Chief Terry didn’t want to answer but he finally relented. “I think Thistle is the sort of girl mothers fear.”

  “It’s not just mothers,” Landon said.

  “No, definitely not,” Chief Terry said. “Either way, I’m hopeful Tillie and Margaret will work things out away from town when their tempers finally blow.

  “I just want a quiet festival week,” he continued. “We haven’t had one of those in almost a year. It would be a nice change of pace.”

  I hoped he got his wish, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

  TEN

  “What do you think Aunt Tillie is up to?”

  Landon held my hand as we walked from the diner toward the town square after finishing lunch. He seemed in good spirits – which is exactly how I like him – but also appeared to be pondering something serious.

  “I have no idea,” I replied. “I’m sure it isn’t good, whatever it is. She has a very tempestuous relationship with Mrs. Little.”

  “I’ve noticed,” Landon said dryly. “Now that they’re the only two left standing from that little clique they used to be part of when they were younger, I can’t help but wonder if that means they’re going to be far more active when it comes to hating each other.”

  “I’m not sure how much more active they can get,” I said. “Aunt Tillie has been out to get Mrs. Little since before I was born. You wouldn’t believe the things she made us do as kids.”

  Landon looked amused. “Like what? I love hearing stories about your adventures with Aunt Tillie when you were younger.”

  “You didn’t like seeing them when we were stuck in her memories a few weeks ago,” I reminded him.

  “That’s not true,” Landon countered. “I actually think that was one of the best days of my life.”

  I giggled. “You do not.”

  “I do too,” Landon said. “If you take Aunt Tillie getting hurt out of the equation, I had a lot of fun that day. I got to see you as a kid. Heck, I got to see you being born. I had a great time.”

  The confession seemed earnest, but I couldn’t help but be dubious. “You also got to see some hard stuff,” I said. “I don’t think either one of us liked seeing the bad memories a second time.”

  “I don’t know.” Landon shrugged. “I mean … bad memories suck. There’s no getting around that. They’re still part of a certain process. You wouldn’t know something is good if you didn’t have something bad to compare it to. I don’t mind the bad memories. They remind me how far we’ve come.”

  I slowed my forward momentum and stared at him. “You’re kind of like a woman sometimes. You know that, right?”

  Landon’s grin was sloppy as he offered me a kiss. “I don’t care how much you tease me. I feel closer to you since we spent that day together. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

  Funnily enough, I wouldn’t either. “Well, I think I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

  “Good. It was meant as one.”

  We lapsed into comfortable silence as we finished our walk to the festival staging area. The area buzzed with activity as the workers constructed the stage and roped off the dancing area. Merchants were setting up booths along the shopping corridor. I couldn’t hide my evil sneer when my eyes landed on Thistle. Her back was to me and she seemed fixated on her booth, which gave me the advantage for this battle.

  “Why do you have that terrifying look on your face?” Landon asked, following my gaze. “Oh. Are you going to make Thistle eat dirt or something? If so, if you two could get in bikinis or something first that would be great.”

  I scowled as I narrowed my eyes. “You’re a sick man.”

  “That’s not exactly news,” Landon pointed out. “Chief Terry spent an hour telling you just that over lunch. What do you think all of that talk of puking was about?”

  “The fact that he still sees me as eight, which means you’re a really filthy man in his head.”

  “Yeah, he’s going to need to let that go,” Landon said. “It makes me uncomfortable when I look at him and wonder if he’s imagining a hundred different ways to separate my head from my body.”

  “I’ll protect you if it gets that far,” I teased, smiling. “As for Thistle, I’m not going to make her eat dirt. I’m merely going to … visit … her.”

  “Yeah, I’m not new to the Winchester way of thinking,” Landon said. “I can tell you’re going to be mean. Normally I’d like to watch whatever you’re about to do – I think mean Bay is hot – but I see Margaret Little over there and I’m kind of curious if Aunt Tillie is around.”

  “I guarantee she’s around.”

  “You could come with me and solve a mystery,” Landon offered. “If you stay here you’ll probably pick a fight with Thistle and regret it.”

  “I’ll stay here.”

  “How did I know you were going to say that?” Landon grumbled, shaking his head. “Don’t do anything that’ll force me to arrest you. You have an audience.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good.” He gave me a kiss before we separated. “If you don’t take too long I’ll buy you some pumpkin ice cream from that stand over there. I’ve never had pumpkin ice cream, but it sounds just gross enough to be delicious … kind of like beefy macaroni in a can.”

  “You’ve got a deal.”

  I watched Landon move across the festival grounds with a soft smile. The second he was out of sight the smile slipped, replaced with a twisted smirk. Landon wasn’t wrong about things getting ugly. The question was: How ugly?

  Thistle was lost in her own little world when I approached, which allowed me to sneak up on her. I bent my head over her shoulder from behind to make sure I had her attention before speaking.

  “There’s my favorite cousin in the world. How are you this fine summer day?”

  Thistle froze at the sound of my voice, and I could tell she was taking a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking. She didn’t want her voice to shake or come out unnaturally high. That would be a dead giveaway she was rattled.

  “It’s not really summer,” Thistle said. “I mean, sure, it’s still technically August. We all know that fall starts the third week of August when you’re in northern Lower Michigan.”

  I couldn’t argue with that fact. That didn’t mean I would forgo messing with her altogether. “That was an interesting trick you pulled this morning,” I said, keeping my voice low and my smile in place so anyone passing by would think we were two cousins having a simple conversation about normal things … like festivals. “You know I can’t stand being locked in a room ever since you locked me in the basement when I was a kid. I have to think you did it on purpose.”

  Surprisingly, Thistle’s coloring shifted from a healthy peach to a wan apricot. “I forgot about that, Bay,” she said. “You’re not really claustrophobic, so I tend to forget that you don’t like it when you’re locked in places. I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

  “What did you mean to do?”

  Thistle didn’t bother lying. “Annoy you.”

  “Well, congratulations,” I said. “You managed that without breaking a sweat.”

  “You know I hate sweating unless it’s for a fun reason,” Thistle said. “Messing with you is definitely fun, but I didn’t mean to upset you this morning. If I did … .”

  “I wasn’t upset,” I said, cutting her off. “Why would you think I was upset? Like you said, I’m not claustrophobic.”

  “No, but you hate being locked in places,” Thistle said. “I knew that and forgot. I didn’t mean to rattle you that way.”

  “It’s not as if I was alone,” I reminded her. “Landon was with me. He liked being locked in. He thought it was fun.”

  “Did you tell him why you hate it?”

  “No.”

  “Did you tell him about what happened on Sam’s ship yesterday?”

  I narrowed my eyes. She asked the question
in an innocent manner, but there was something about her tone that set my teeth on edge. It almost sounded like a threat. “What are you saying?”

  “I asked you a simple question,” Thistle said, her voice positively dripping with faux sweetness. “I wasn’t saying anything bad.”

  I didn’t believe that for a moment. “Fine. I’ll forgive you for what happened this morning as long as you keep the secret about the tanker.”

  “I wouldn’t tell anyway,” Thistle said, taking a step away from me so she could turn and face me down. I no longer had the power position, which was exactly how Thistle liked things. “You know I wouldn’t tell Landon what happened without your approval. I promised I wouldn’t.”

  Despite our building war, I did know that. “That’s coming back to bite me anyway,” I admitted. “A bunch of ghosts showed up at the inn last night and I’m pretty sure they’re from the tanker. I wasn’t the only one who saw them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I related recent developments to Thistle, including Annie’s part in the tale, and when I was done she was ticked off. “Why didn’t you tell me all of this last night? We need to talk to Belinda. She can’t go around accusing Annie of making up stories. That will erode Annie’s self-esteem. If anyone knows that, it should be you.”

  “I do know that and I had every intention of talking to you about the situation,” I said. “Then I woke up and couldn’t get out of my bedroom.”

  “Oh, go ahead,” Thistle intoned. “Blame me. I know you want to.”

  “I’m not blaming you for all of it,” I said. “We both had a part in it. I’m just making sure you’re aware that we need to have a talk with our mothers and Aunt Tillie. Someone is going to have to explain things to Belinda, and I think it’s going to have to be done in a kind manner. Otherwise she’ll think we’re crazy.”

  “Frankly, I can’t believe she doesn’t already think we’re crazy,” Thistle said. “If I was in her position, I would’ve called the cops and had us locked up a long time ago.”

  That made two of us. Still … . “We conducted some research on the tanker this morning,” I said, opting to remain focused on the important part of the conversation. “The Gray Harker, which is what the ship was called years ago, disappeared from Lake Michigan in 1989. It was missing for months and people thought it sunk.”

 

‹ Prev