Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I wondered,” I said, working overtime to keep from staring at the leggings. They were silky and shifted into unfortunate locations when Aunt Tillie moved around too much. “You should wear real pants.”

  “These are real pants,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “I bought them on the Internet. The women wearing them were standing in front of trees and on beaches, which means they’re for outdoor wearing. They’re pants. Shut it.”

  “I stand corrected,” I said, holding up my hands. “Speaking of outdoors, we saw you and Kenneth leaving The Overlook a few hours ago. You had a golf club and Kenneth had a chainsaw and a whistle.”

  “That wasn’t us.” The lie rolled smoothly off Aunt Tillie’s tongue.

  “It was you,” I argued. “I know what you look like.”

  “You must’ve been mistaken,” Aunt Tillie challenged. “It wasn’t me.”

  “Like I could possibly mistake those leggings for anything other than your … kind of … pants,” I said. “Where were you going?”

  “It wasn’t me,” Aunt Tillie replied, her tone sharp. “Stop accusing me of things I didn’t do. It’s hurtful and mean.”

  That was rich coming from her. “But … .”

  “Let it go,” Landon instructed. “She’s obviously not going to own up to whatever she’s doing. I’m sure we’ll hear about it eventually.”

  They were sage words, but I wouldn’t be me if I could let things go that easily. “Does this have something to do with Mrs. Little? Chief Terry says you’ve been following her around for days.”

  “Terry has a big mouth,” Aunt Tillie said. “If he’s not careful, he’s going to have a big boot in his behind to match it.”

  “That wasn’t really an explanation or denial,” I pointed out.

  “Oh, you’re right.” Aunt Tillie squared her shoulders. “That wasn’t me either.”

  She’s so full of crap sometimes I worry she’ll overflow and kill us all when the sewer that is her mouth finally exceeds its capacity. “But … .”

  “Bay, I’ll buy you an elephant ear if you drop this,” Landon offered. “It’s supposed to be a nice day and I want to spend it with you, not … trekking through the universe.”

  He had a point. I heaved out a sigh and held my hands palms up. “Okay,” I said after a beat. “If you get arrested, though, I’m not bailing you out.”

  “I have no intention of getting arrested,” Aunt Tillie said. “I’m smarter than all of the cops in town combined. That goes for ‘The Man’ here, as well.”

  Landon scowled. “You’re delightful. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  Aunt Tillie ignored the question. “Besides that, it wasn’t me,” she said. “I already told you that. Why are you so suspicious?”

  “I have no idea,” I deadpanned. She’s the most suspicious and paranoid person I know. “It must be some fluke of my genetics.”

  “Well, get over it,” Aunt Tillie said, patting me on the arm. “Enjoy the festival. Fawn over your boyfriend. Have a good day.”

  “I second that,” Landon said.

  “Oh, and if you hear a loud noise and Margaret Little screaming, just ignore that,” Aunt Tillie said. “It has nothing to do with me because I’m innocent, and I’m not going to be responsible for that either.”

  And there it was. “Maybe we should go home now,” I suggested, focusing on Landon.

  “Let’s get some junk food first and see how we feel after that.”

  He honestly has a one-track mind where his stomach is involved.

  FOR SOME reason, as the afternoon wore on I couldn’t ignore the fact that my inner danger alarm began pinging. It seemed ridiculous, but I found myself glancing over my shoulder at every turn and I couldn’t stop myself from staring into shadows. I don’t know what I expected – ghosts or old high school enemies – but I couldn’t relax no matter how hard I tried.

  Landon noticed my hyper-vigilance but he didn’t comment. He was probably saving that for later when we were alone. I couldn’t wait. Oh, wait, I could. Thankfully, Clove managed to sneak away from Maggie and Richard at the exact moment I was about to make a fool of myself and admit my worry.

  “She hates me.”

  I shifted my eyes to Clove and looked around. “Who? Did you finally see Aunt Tillie’s leggings? She’s not wearing them because she hates you. She’s wearing them because she hates me.”

  Landon chuckled. “I think she’s wearing them because she hates me.”

  “Not Aunt Tillie,” Clove snapped. She was in no mood for games, verbal or otherwise, and I could tell her patience was wearing thin. “I’m talking about Maggie. She hates me.”

  Even though Landon and I didn’t visit every booth with Clove and Sam’s parents, we kept an eye on them throughout the afternoon. Maggie seemed to be engaged in the conversation and eager to talk to Clove. Richard was a typical man and focused on the food above all else. He was always friendly when talking to Clove, though.

  “You’re crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “Maggie likes you. She’s been talking to you nonstop.”

  “I know,” Clove said. “That means she hates me. Have you seen the way she looks at me?”

  Landon moved up behind me and slipped his arm around my waist as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “She looks at you as if you’re a little doll,” he said. “You’re tiny. People think you’re adorable.”

  “She does not,” Clove scoffed. “She looks at me as if I’m not good enough for Sam. Admit it. I know you’ve seen it. You’ve been watching us for hours. That’s creepy, by the way.”

  “The only thing that’s creepy is your insistence on making this fail,” I shot back. “She likes you, Clove. That woman is the friendliest person I’ve ever met. She’s … amazing.”

  “I don’t like to take sides, but I agree with Bay,” Landon said. “Maggie likes you. I think she likes everyone. She was even nice to Mrs. Little when you showed her the porcelain unicorns. That shows true strength of character, because anyone else would’ve laughed … or run away screaming.”

  “Oh, whatever,” Clove snapped. “You always take Bay’s side.”

  “That’s because her side is always cutest,” Landon teased, rubbing his cheek against mine. I could tell he was ready to depart the festival and spend some time alone. It wasn’t even about romance. He wanted us to have a few moments to ourselves. Solitude was in short supply when the Winchester witches were around. “As for the rest, I stand by it. She likes you. You’re acting nuts, though, and if you keep it up you’re going to turn that woman off and make her hate you. It will end up a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

  Clove’s mouth dropped open. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “Which part?” Landon asked, not missing a beat. “Are you talking about when I said you were nuts or when I suggested Maggie will eventually turn against you? To be fair, I’m not sure she’ll ever turn against you. That is seriously the nicest woman I’ve ever met.”

  “All of it,” Clove snapped. “She hates me. Why won’t you admit it?”

  I couldn’t take much more of this. “She doesn’t hate you, but I’m beginning to really dislike you,” I said. “You need to calm down. You’re a bundle of nerves. It isn’t healthy.”

  Instead of firing back an insult, Clove’s eyes filled with tears. “I know I’m making things worse,” she sniffled. “I don’t know what to do, though.”

  My heart went out to her. Not long ago I was in the same position. Of course, Thistle and Clove didn’t do anything to help me when I was freaking out. They made fun of me instead. But I was a bigger person. I was willing to make things better. Oh, crap. That’s probably that martyr thing Landon mentioned earlier.

  “You need to have a drink and take a breath,” I said, resting my hand on her shoulder. “That’s the only way things will calm down. If you keep acting the way you’re acting, you’re going to pass out or something.”

  “Do you really think I should have a drink? Will that work
?”

  “Have ten of them and find out,” Landon said, pulling me away from Clove. “As for us, we’re leaving.”

  “You can’t,” Clove protested. “What if I need you, Bay?”

  “I need Bay,” Landon said. “We’re tired and we need a nap.”

  Clove narrowed her eyes. “Aunt Tillie is right. You’re a filthy pervert.”

  “Aunt Tillie is wearing leggings that show off every crack and crevice – and some of them look like they’re struggling to come back after an earthquake,” Landon said. “If she’s my opposition, I’m more than happy to take on the competition.”

  “I’m going to tell her you said that,” Clove warned, extending a finger. “She’s going to be angry.”

  “Well, at least we know her chainsaw is already out of the house,” Landon said, grabbing my hand. “You’ll have Bay for backup the rest of the week. She’s mine for the rest of the day.”

  Clove let loose with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. If something bad happens, I’m totally blaming you.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Landon held my hand as we walked toward the parking lot. He seemed lost in thought. My agitation – which dissipated while talking to Clove – was back in full force as I scanned the trees to my right.

  “What are you thinking?” Landon asked, forcing my gaze to him. “You seem tense. Are you worried about Clove? If you don’t want to leave … .”

  “It’s not Clove,” I said. “I just … can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching us.”

  Landon ceased his forward momentum and glanced around. His eyes were keen as he scanned the open area. Finally he gave up and focused on me. “I don’t think anyone is watching us.”

  “Maybe ghosts are watching us.” I was surprised when the words slipped out of my mouth.

  “Do you see any ghosts?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then how do you know ghosts are watching you?”

  “I don’t know anything,” I replied. “I feel it. I can’t explain it.”

  “Do you want to know what I think?”

  I couldn’t decide. “Not if you think I’m crazy like Clove.”

  Landon grinned. “I think you want me to stay and you can’t help yourself from feeling antsy,” he said. “I have a feeling I’m going to feel ghosts watching me before I leave tomorrow morning, too. That’s why we should spend some time together now.”

  “Okay,” I said. I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t shake my worry. “You’re going to have to massage my back to make me feel better, though.”

  “Done.” Landon leaned over and gave me a kiss, only pulling away when the telltale sounds of a chainsaw assailed his ears. The distinctive noise came from the festival.

  My heart sank when I heard it. “What do you think she’s doing?”

  “Who cares?” Landon asked, grabbing my hand. “You have enough food to allow us to be hermits when we get back to the guesthouse, right?”

  I nodded, surprised. “Are you really going to ignore what she’s doing?”

  “Something tells me it’s not bad enough to keep me in town,” Landon said. “That means I’m going to ignore it.”

  That didn’t sound like him at all. “What if it’s illegal?”

  “Then it’s Chief Terry’s problem.”

  That didn’t sound like him either. “Do you really miss me that much when you’re gone?”

  Landon’s smile was impish. “I really miss you twice as much as that when I’m gone.”

  The admission was enough to shove my misgivings and worry out of my mind – er, well, at least for tonight. “Let’s go,” I said, holding out my hand. “I have macaroni and cheese, and popcorn back at the guesthouse.”

  “Now that’s the way to a man’s heart, sweetie.”

  SIXTEEN

  I woke to someone bouncing on the bed.

  “Not again, Landon,” I croaked. “I need coffee first.”

  I jerked a pillow over my head and kept my eyes shut. The bouncing finally stopped and it took me a moment to remember what day it was – and the fact that Landon usually took great pains not to wake me when he slipped out early on Monday mornings.

  He should already be gone.

  I jerked the pillow away from my face and wrenched open an eye, glaring at Aunt Tillie when I saw her kneeling on my bed and staring. “Oh, what fresh hell is this?” I muttered, taking a moment to study her outfit. She was wearing leggings again. The fresh pair sported a pattern of zombies. She’d either bought stock in a legging company or was purposely doing this to drive people crazy. My money was on the latter, but Aunt Tillie is so unpredictable it could honestly be the former.

  “You’re a real grouch in the morning,” Aunt Tillie said, making a face. “You know that, right?”

  “I think I’m an absolute delight in the morning,” I corrected. “I think you’re the one who broke into my bedroom and … .” My eyes drifted to Landon’s empty pillow and landed on the small grouping of Hershey’s Kisses nestled there. “You brought me candy? Oh, man! What did you do? If you need money or manipulation to keep yourself out of jail, I’m going to sit back and watch with a camera instead.”

  “Ha, ha, smart mouth,” Aunt Tillie snapped, wrinkling her nose. “I didn’t buy you candy. Your boyfriend left it for you. I’m just eating it.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I propped up my body on my elbow and regarded the candy. I couldn’t help but smile. “He left me candy?” I felt like such a girl when my cheeks burned. The gesture was unbelievably sweet.

  “Uh-uh.” Aunt Tillie didn’t look nearly as thrilled about the candy as I felt. “He left you a note, too.”

  “Where?” I didn’t see a note.

  Aunt Tillie waved a small card in front of my face. I didn’t even see her holding it until now.

  “I read it,” Aunt Tillie volunteered. “It’s extremely boring. He’s a total moron when it comes to writing love notes.”

  I snatched the card from her and flipped it open. The message was simple and to the point: I love you. I found the note incredibly stimulating for my heart. Sadly, I found Aunt Tillie’s presence incredibly stimulating for my irritation.

  “Oh, look at that schmaltzy face,” Aunt Tillie groused. “You actually like that card. You’re thinking Landon is romantic … and loving … and hot because he somehow manages to keep long hair and look like a rock star while working for the government. You make me want to puke.”

  I scowled and slapped away Aunt Tillie’s hand when she reached over to steal one of my candy pieces. “You make me want to kick you in the butt,” I shot back. “That’s my candy. If you’re going to puke, I don’t want you eating my candy.”

  “Oh, whatever,” Aunt Tillie said, rolling her eyes. “You’re just as much of a kvetch as Clove sometimes. You know that, right?”

  She made it sound like an insult, but it felt more like a compliment. “What are you doing here?” I challenged. “I heard your chainsaw when we were leaving. I didn’t hear any fallout, so I’m guessing you didn’t kill anyone when you did … whatever it is you did.”

  “You’re imagining things,” Aunt Tillie said. “I didn’t have a chainsaw and I didn’t do anything. I was on a date last night.”

  Despite my agitation, I couldn’t help but grin. “You were on a date last night, weren’t you? I didn’t realize you and Kenneth were a couple again. Are you in love?”

  Instead of answering, Aunt Tillie smacked me across the face. The blow sounded worse than it felt, but she clearly had my attention.

  “Hey!” I cupped my cheek and widened my eyes. “What was that for?”

  “You’re being stupid … and I can’t abide stupid.”

  “You’re in my bedroom,” I reminded her, tossing off the covers and sliding out of bed. Thankfully I remembered to throw a T-shirt on before falling asleep the previous evening. “If you’re not here to talk, why are you here?”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t here to talk,” Aunt T
illie clarified. “I said you’re being stupid. There’s a difference.”

  I heaved a sigh as I studied her. “You make me tired. You know that, right?”

  “You’ve been spending too much time with Landon,” Aunt Tillie said. “He says things like that. You’re a young woman in your prime. You should be getting ready for your sexual peak as you go into your thirties. You shouldn’t be tired.”

  I was mortified by the “sexual peak” comment, yet that wouldn’t stop me from expanding on it. “I thought women hit their sexual peak in their forties.”

  “I’m still in my sexual peak, so I can’t verify that,” Aunt Tillie said. “Some women defy scientific categorization. I happen to be one of them.”

  She happened to be … something. I pursed my lips as I stared at her. This conversation had been going on for what felt like forever and she still hadn’t told me why she was here. “What do you want?”

  Aunt Tillie pasted an innocent look on her face. “Can’t I just want to spend time with my favorite great-niece?”

  Now I was definitely suspicious. “Since when am I your favorite great-niece?”

  “Always.”

  “Oh, well, that’s kind of sweet,” I said. “I still know you want something.”

  “I’m not sweet,” Aunt Tillie said. “You have absolutely no competition. That’s the problem. Clove can’t be my favorite because she’s a kvetch, and Thistle can’t be my favorite because … well … she’s Thistle.”

  I could see that. “And why are you here again?”

  “Oh, right.” Aunt Tillie swung her legging-clad legs off the bed and stole another piece of candy before standing. “We need to have a serious discussion about Annie because she can see ghosts. You have to shower first because you smell like sex and ‘The Man,’ though. I won’t be able to concentrate if you don’t shower.”

  I scorched her with a look. “I really dislike you sometimes. You know that, don’t you?”

  Aunt Tillie didn’t appear particularly perturbed by the admission. “I’ll meet you in the living room in twenty minutes. Don’t take too long in the shower crying about how much you miss Landon. I have a feeling you’ll be seeing him much sooner than you think.”