“It obviously didn’t sink,” Thistle said. “What happened?”
“No one knows,” I replied. “It showed up on the lake one day completely empty. The entire crew was gone.”
Thistle’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Gone? Where did they go?”
“None of them were ever seen again,” I explained. “All of the lifeboats were onboard and accounted for.”
“So … what are our options?” Thistle asked, rubbing the back of her neck as she stared at her feet. “I guess pirates of some sort could’ve boarded the vessel and tried to rob people. They could’ve killed everyone or forced them overboard.”
“And yet it seems likely that if that happened at least one body would’ve washed ashore … or got caught in a fisherman’s net … or been sighted by another boat,” I said. “I don’t expect all of the bodies would’ve been found, but for none of them to be found? That’s improbable.”
“Okay, what do you think happened?”
“Something violent,” I replied. “Several of the ghosts who showed up last night had gaping wounds and bloodstains.”
“Gross.”
“That would indicate something really terrible happened to them,” I added. “I’m not sure, but my guess would be either a crew member went crazy and killed everyone or there was some sort of mutiny. With twenty crew members, you’d need a substantial amount of men to subdue them.”
“That’s true,” Thistle said, running her tongue over her teeth as she considered the scenario. “If a bunch of people died on that ship and their souls remained behind, that means they’ve spent more than thirty years wandering with the ship. Why make themselves known now?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Sam said he checked out the ship multiple times before buying it and never saw anything. I didn’t see ghosts when I was there yesterday.”
“You saw something, though,” Thistle pointed out. “Maybe all of the ghosts banded together to show you what happened to them. All of that power could’ve been enough to cause you to pass out.”
“That’s a possibility,” I conceded. “Something about it doesn’t feel right, though. I think the ship is a conduit or something. I think it was marked by whatever happened. It was probably so bloody that all the mental angst managed to curse the ship or something.”
“Wow. That sounds very dramatic,” Thistle said. “Aunt Tillie would come up with a scenario like that. Are you turning into Aunt Tillie?” She looked proud of herself for the dig, but I had a bombshell that would wipe that smile off her face.
“I don’t know if I am turning into Aunt Tillie,” I replied. “I do know she offered to help if I declared war on you.”
Thistle narrowed her eyes. “And what did you say?”
“I said that I would love to take her up on her kind offer.”
“You suck eye of newt,” Thistle snapped, making a face. “If you think I’m afraid of you simply because you joined forces with that demented old lady … well … you’ve got another think coming.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’re only afraid of Aunt Tillie,” I said. “I think you’re afraid of me, too.”
“Dream on,” Thistle snorted. “There’s nothing you can do to beat me.”
As if on cue, Viola picked that moment to pop into existence. Thistle couldn’t see her, but it was almost worse to hear incessant talking when she couldn’t see the source.
“Hello, girls,” Viola sang out. “How are you today?”
“I’m wonderful,” I replied, my lips twitching as I fought off a smile. “I believe Thistle is lonely and bored, though. I’ll bet you know a way to entertain her.”
“Do I?” Viola looked excited. “I told her about all of my soldiers and their slippers earlier like you told me, by the way.”
“That was you?” Thistle looked right through Viola’s ethereal body as if she wanted to strangle me. “I should’ve seen that coming.”
“I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t,” I said. “Perhaps you’re slipping in your old age. Hey, Viola? I’ll bet you have some great stories about the hoedown, right?”
“Do I?” Viola clapped her transparent hands. “The hoedown was always my favorite festival.”
“Well, Thistle is something of a historian,” I said. “I’ll bet you went to all thirty of the hoedowns through the years. The hoedown is one of the festivals Walkerville held before the town’s name was changed, so it’s been around a long time. Do you remember each one?”
“I was losing my memory when I died, but now it’s back and better than ever,” Viola enthused. “I would love to tell Thistle about the hoedowns.”
“I think that’s a grand plan,” I said, taking a step away from Thistle’s booth. “She’s going to be setting up a long time tonight. I would hate for her to be alone.”
“I’ll make sure she’s not,” Viola said, ignoring Thistle’s growl. “It will be fun, Thistle. We’ll bond.”
“I’ll make you pay for this,” Thistle said, her eyes trained on my face. “You’re going to cry like a little girl … or Landon when you take away his bacon … by the time I’m done with you.”
“I can’t wait to see that,” I said. “May the best witch win.”
“I’m so going to make you eat dirt.”
“Oh, I love dirt,” Viola chirped. “Remind me to tell you about the dirt in my garden when I’m done with the hoedown stories. I’m an excellent gardener. Er, I was an excellent gardener.”
“I can’t wait,” Thistle deadpanned. “I simply cannot wait.”
ELEVEN
“What is this?”
Landon enjoyed walking around Hemlock Cove festivals, so I wasn’t surprised when he suggested just that before we met up with everyone else for dinner. He laughed at the kissing booth – while also making suggestive comments – and merely rolled his eyes when he saw a photo booth that allowed guests to dress as paranormal monsters. When we got to a booth selling love potions, though, he seemed perplexed.
“They’re love potions,” I supplied.
“I see that,” Landon said, his eyes finding mine. “I thought you told me that was a bad idea.”
“I’m not making them.”
“I didn’t say you were,” Landon said, grabbing one of the bottles so he could flip it over and read the ingredients. “I swear you told me that love potions were bad, though.”
“They are,” I confirmed, snagging one of the bottles and shaking it so I could look at the ingredients as they floated. “I don’t think this is really a love potion, though.”
“What if it is?”
I shrugged. “You can’t make someone love you,” I said. “You can fake the emotions, but eventually the truth comes out. Love is something that happens because of a specific set of circumstances.
“Sure, you can enhance lusty feelings,” I continued. “Love is completely different, though. It’s unique to the individuals involved.”
Landon smirked. “Do you think people are destined to fall in love?”
It was an interesting question. Most men would shy away from deep conversations like this one – conversations that had the potential to expose feelings and insecurity – but Landon wasn’t most men. He had no problem talking about love and lust. Er, he especially had no problem talking about lust.
“I don’t know,” I replied after a beat. “I believe there’s an element of destiny in life. I believe I was destined to meet you at some point, for example. Do I believe that things would be radically different if I hadn’t met you that day at the corn maze? Probably not. If I met you later – or sooner, for that matter – I think we would simply be at a different point in our journey.”
“Oh, that was almost poetic, sweetie,” Landon said, grinning as he slung an arm over my shoulders. “I happen to believe we were destined to meet exactly when we did.”
“Really?”
Landon nodded. “You were wearing a shirt that matched your eyes that day and it was the first thing I noticed,” he
explained. “Don’t get me wrong, I noticed your hair and smile, too. I remember being really struck by the way your eyes matched your shirt, though.”
“That’s kind of sweet,” I said. “I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember it all, Bay,” Landon said. “I also remember being worried that something would happen and I would have to break my cover because you weren’t shy about arguing with criminals.”
“I didn’t know they were criminals at the time.”
“You knew they weren’t good guys.”
I pressed my lips together as I considered the statement. “Actually, I didn’t know that,” I said. “Part of me knew you were a good guy even though I thought you needed a shower.”
“Cute,” Landon said, kissing my cheek as he tugged me toward the picnic table area. “I was thinking we could eat here tonight and then head back to your place early. I love your family, but I could do without a dramatic family dinner.”
“What makes you think dinner will be dramatic?”
Landon made an exaggerated “well, duh” face. “I’ve met your family,” he replied. “Every meal is dramatic.”
“That’s not true.”
“Name one meal we’ve shared at the inn that didn’t turn dramatic.”
“I … .” I broke off, chewing on my bottom lip. Now that he brought it up, I couldn’t think of one. “Huh. Well, I think there are different levels of drama. For the most part, things have been calm for weeks.”
“Which means something big is due to happen,” Landon said. “That’s how life works in your family.”
“I think you’re pinning behavior on us that really isn’t fair,” I countered. “We’re not overly dramatic.”
Landon snickered. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” he said. “I’ve got twenty bucks that says something happens in the next forty-eight hours to prove me right.”
It was an interesting bet and I wanted to join in the competition, but something occurred to me. “Clove freaking out over Sam’s parents coming to town doesn’t count,” I said. “That’s normal drama for her. That’s not family drama.”
Landon worked his tongue over his bottom lip. “Okay,” he said after a beat. “I can live with that stipulation.”
“It’s a bet.” I extended my hand so we could shake on it and he eyed it for a moment, amused.
Finally Landon shook my hand and then tugged me to him. “The big kids seal it with a kiss.” He planted a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth before releasing me. “This big kid is starving. What do you want for dinner?”
“They have kebabs and rice at the Middle Eastern booth,” I replied, pointing. “It smells really good.”
“That sounds good to me,” Landon said. “When we’re done with the main meal, we have to try that pumpkin ice cream. I figure it’s either going to be so weird it’s delicious or so wacky it’s disgusting. Either way, I like trying new things.”
“That’s what you told me the night you tried to convince me to go skinny-dipping in the lake,” I reminded him.
“I was never proved wrong on that front.”
Hmm. He had a point.
“I’M PRETTY sure I’m going to die if you make me stay here.”
Clove was a bundle of nerves when I approached her a few minutes later. Landon and I were overloaded with food – he wasn’t joking about being starving – and we lowered our selections to the picnic table where Clove sat with Sam. She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her lower lip. Sam didn’t seem bothered by her attitude.
“You’re not going to die,” Sam countered. “You need a break. You’re going to kill yourself cleaning if you’re not careful. No one ever died from taking off for a few hours to enjoy a festival.”
“That’s probably not true,” I pointed out. “I’m sure someone died from attending a festival.”
Sam scowled. “You know what I mean. Do you have to make things worse? She’s manic or something. I’ve never seen her like this. I brought her here because I thought you and Thistle could make her feel better.”
If history was any indication, Thistle and I were bound to make things worse. That didn’t mean I wasn’t open to the suggestion. “I’ll try,” I said, flashing a smile for Sam’s benefit before focusing on Clove. “You look really pretty.”
Clove offered me an exaggerated eye roll. “I have things to do,” she said. “Sam’s mother will see our home for the first time in exactly … fifteen hours.” She lifted her wrist and looked at it even though she wasn’t wearing a watch. “I’m running out of time.”
“The lighthouse is spotless,” Sam argued. “The only thing you’re doing is cleaning things twice – which is a complete waste of time when we could be enjoying the evening together. I’ve never been to this festival. I’m excited, but it’s only fun if we spend our time together.”
“Oh, he’s so sweet, Clove,” I cooed. “How can you not want to have fun with him after he said that?”
Because Clove is something of a romantic, I expected her to melt. I got the exact opposite.
“He is sweet,” Clove agreed. “He’s also an insensitive ass. His mother is the reason I’m freaking out! What if she doesn’t like me? What if she thinks I’m a terrible housekeeper? What if … ?” Clove broke off, something so horrible occurring to her that she couldn’t find the words to voice it.
“Why is she making that face?” Sam asked, alarmed.
“She thinks the world is going to end,” I supplied. “She made the same face when Thistle told her the zombie apocalypse was real and then informed her we were going to have to shoot her in the leg and leave her behind so we could make our escape.”
“Why would you tell her that?” Sam asked, horrified.
“Because Thistle figured that Clove would slow us down in the zombie apocalypse.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s slow and prone to whining,” Thistle answered, giving me a wide berth as she appeared at the edge of the table. Marcus was right behind her, and Thistle didn’t appear bothered in the least to realize Sam was glaring at her. “Whiners don’t survive the zombie apocalypse. If we’re going to survive we’re going to need a solid team.”
“I think Clove could rule the zombie apocalypse,” Sam argued.
“Thank you, honey,” Clove said, sincere. “I would totally rule the zombie apocalypse.”
“Meh, I don’t think she would make it past the first week. I’m surrounding myself with survivors,” Thistle said. “We already have our group planned out. Bay and I did it over chocolate martinis a couple of months ago.”
Landon shifted his eyes to me. “Am I on your team?”
I bobbed my head. “You’re an integral part,” I replied. “You’re strong and smart, and we wouldn’t survive without you.”
“You also have a gun and a hero complex,” Thistle added. “The gun will come in handy for shooting. The hero complex will come in handy if sacrifices need to be made along the way to ensure our survival.”
Landon made a disgusted face. “I’m glad you’ve given this so much thought.”
“We spent an entire night doing it,” Thistle said.
“And Clove didn’t make the cut?” Sam looked almost angry, which was ridiculous given the topic. “Why wouldn’t you want Clove? She’s strong and loyal.”
“She’s also loud and whiny,” Thistle said. “You’ve never been on a covert mission with her. She’s not quiet. She has skills when it comes to deflecting law enforcement – she can muster tears out of nothing, for example – but that won’t help us in the zombie apocalypse.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” Sam said, stroking the back of Clove’s head. “I want you on my team for the zombie apocalypse.”
Clove beamed, her cleaning frenzy all but forgotten. “Thank you. I want you on my team, too. Thistle is mean. I don’t want her on my team.”
“I may be mean, but I’m a survivor,” Thistle said. “You shouldn’t feel bad, Clove. Hard decisi
ons have to be made during the zombie apocalypse. I’m leaving my mother behind, too.”
Landon snorted out a laugh as he opened the bag of pita bread and rested it between us so we could enjoy our hummus. “So Clove and Twila are out. Does that mean everyone else is in?”
“No way,” Thistle answered, shaking her head. “We want to survive, and that’s simply not possible if we make our group too big.”
“Uh-huh.” Landon’s expression was hard to read as he shifted his eyes to me. “Who else is on your team?”
“It’s the four of us and Aunt Tillie,” I replied. “We considered taking Marnie or Mom, but in the end we realized we couldn’t deal with disappointed stares and general bossiness in the zombie apocalypse. Oh, we’re bringing Chief Terry, too.”
“I can see Chief Terry, but why would you take Aunt Tillie?” Landon seemed to be enjoying the game. “She can’t move very fast.”
“No, but she can control the weather and set things on fire if we get trapped,” Thistle supplied. “We figure that’s more important than speed.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve spent so much time on this,” Landon said. “Others might think you were wasting your time when you could’ve been doing something productive, but I’m all for planning an apocalypse. That way we won’t be caught off guard.”
“That’s what I said.” I giggled as Landon squeezed my hand before opening the container of tabbouleh. “We’re totally on the same wavelength.”
“Well, except Bay has a martyr complex, while Landon has a hero complex,” Thistle said, flashing an evil smirk when I tried to scorch her with a glare.
“I’m still coming after you,” I reminded her.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Thistle said, refusing to back down. “Come on, Marcus. Let’s get some dinner. I’ll fill you in on your role in the zombie apocalypse while we’re deciding what we want.”
“Isn’t my role to survive?” Marcus asked as he fell into step with her.
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