Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I adore Clove.” Maggie seemed surprised by the question. “Does she think I don’t like her?”

  I shrugged. I honestly wasn’t sure. “She was manic before you showed up,” I said. “She’s never met a boyfriend’s mother before. She tends to be irritating when she overdoes things, and I was a little worried she overdid things where you were concerned.”

  “She’s been nothing short of delightful,” Maggie said. “I think she’s a wonderful woman. I can’t wait until Sam proposes and she’s officially part of the family.”

  The words effortlessly rolled off Maggie’s tongue, but they stunned me. “Propose? Is Sam going to propose?”

  Maggie realized her mistake too late. “I … you can’t tell Clove! Sam asked me to bring his grandmother’s ring. He seems excited to plan a big evening and everything.”

  “I won’t tell her.” My heart warmed at the realization that Clove was about to get everything she ever wanted. “I’m happy for both of them.”

  “Are you?” Maggie’s expression was earnest. “My understanding is that you’ve been dating Landon longer. Don’t you wish you were the one getting engaged first?”

  That seemed like an odd question, but it was also fair. “Landon and I aren’t Sam and Clove. We’re from two very different worlds. Sam and Clove live in the same world. It’s okay.”

  “I’m glad you’re not the jealous type,” Maggie said. “I wouldn’t worry about you and Landon being from different worlds. You seem to fit each other quite well.”

  “We do. It’s a work in progress, though. Sam and Clove seemed to fit right away.”

  “And yet you didn’t want them together at first,” Maggie mused. “Sam told me you were unhappy when they started dating.”

  Of course Sam would be the type to confide in his mother. “When Sam came to town we were worried because we didn’t understand his motivation,” I explained. “We got over it eventually. My problem with Sam and Clove’s relationship when it started wasn’t Sam. It was that Clove tried to hide it.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “Because we didn’t trust Sam,” I answered. “I get the circular nature of her logic, but things were tense back then. We’ve worked everything out. Sam is a good man. I really like him. He’s wonderful to Clove.”

  “I’m glad that Sam found his way to all of you,” Maggie said, smiling as I straightened. “You’re magical in more ways than one.”

  “Thank you.”

  Maggie and I fell into step together, the silence between us comfortable instead of draining. We were almost to the cemetery gate when a huffy Kelly Sheffield interrupted our serene walk as she barreled her way past us. I could hear her grumbling under her breath – something about busybodies and spies – as she stomped down the pathway.

  “Is anything wrong?” I called out. I had no idea why I cared. It wasn’t as if Kelly and I were going to be friends just because I voiced concern for her mental wellbeing.

  “Mind your own business,” Kelly barked. “I’m so sick of busybodies. You have no idea how sick of busybodies I am.”

  Since I lived with a bevy of busybodies, I could relate. That didn’t mean I was willing to share horror stories with Kelly. “Okay. Well, have a nice day.”

  “Oh, blow it out your butt,” Kelly shot back.

  Maggie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing as we continued toward the parking lot. She seemed amused by Kelly’s attitude. “Is she a friend of yours?”

  “Never. I … .” I narrowed my eyes when I caught sight of a second figure racing toward the cemetery. I recognized this one, too. The new visitor was shorter and older than Kelly, though. “Mrs. Little?”

  “What are you doing here, Bay?” Mrs. Little barked. “Are you lying about alibis for Tillie again? Where is she? All my day needs to be complete is a visit from her.”

  Apparently Kelly Sheffield wasn’t the only one having a rough day.

  “Aunt Tillie is at the inn,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “I didn’t make up an alibi for her the day your shop caught fire. She was really with us. I am sorry for what happened. I know it’s going to take a lot of work to get it up and running again.”

  “Oh, don’t act as if you care,” Mrs. Little said, making a face. “You don’t care. You would be happier if the store burned completely to the ground and couldn’t be rebuilt. I know you.”

  Apparently she didn’t know me at all. “That’s not true. I don’t like anything that’s bad for the town’s business. We all rely on the tourist trade. That’s why we need to bolster each other instead of being jerks.”

  “Well, you would know all about being a jerk,” Mrs. Little challenged. “You learned from the best, right? You love your Aunt Tillie, and she’s turned your entire family into monstrous clones.”

  I’d had just about enough of her attitude. “I do love Aunt Tillie,” I agreed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about what happened to you. We’re running late and we’ll get out of your way.”

  “That would be great,” Mrs. Little snapped. “You can host your daily Tillie fan club meeting without me getting in the way.”

  Wow! She was really in a mood. “Aunt Tillie doesn’t need a fan club. She has herself.”

  “Yes, well, one of these days Tillie is going to get the payback she deserves,” Mrs. Little said. “You reap what you sow, Bay. That’s in the Bible. Tillie will eventually reap what she’s sown.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “I … um … okay.”

  “Ask yourself this, Bay: What has Tillie sown?” Mrs. Little challenged. She acted as if she had someplace else to be, yet she had no problem arguing the merits of Aunt Tillie’s history as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  “She’s sown a family that loves her with irritated devotion,” I answered without missing a beat. “She’s a complicated hero, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a hero. I’m sorry you can’t see that given everything that’s happened over the past few weeks.”

  “And I’m sorry that you can’t see what a manipulative beast she is,” Mrs. Little said, shaking her head. “You’ll figure it out eventually, though. You’re a smart girl.”

  “Thank you … I think.”

  Mrs. Little ignored my tone. “Now go on about your day, Bay. I have business.” With those words Mrs. Little dismissed me and stalked further into the cemetery. She was only quiet for a moment. “Kelly! I’m nowhere near done talking to you. Where do you think you’re going?”

  I guess that answered that question. I would be running to hide in the cemetery if Mrs. Little was chasing me, too. I tried to work up a little sympathy for Kelly but failed. Apparently people really do reap what they sow. Kelly Sheffield was proof of that. If anyone deserved to put up with a complaining Mrs. Little, it was her. The older woman was crazy, but harmless.

  I truly believed that and yet … why did this entire situation feel so off?

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “I don’t see why we’re not doing it now.”

  Patience is one of those virtues only some people get. It seems to skip wide swaths of Winchesters. Although most people think I’m one of the most patient people in my family. That’s not saying much.

  “We can’t do it now,” Landon said. Speaking of patience, I often think he has piles of it stored inside his expansive chest. How else could he put up with us? “It’s still light out,” he reminded me. “We’re supposed to get to the heavy action after dark. Calm yourself.”

  As much as I admire Landon for his boundless patience, I also find him irksome when he won’t engage in a good round of handwringing. “Calm myself?”

  Landon smirked as he sipped his soda. We sat at a picnic table on the north side of the town square, everyone but our mothers agreeing to meet at the festival so we could patrol the location before heading to the tanker to conduct our séance. My mother and aunts thought it best to stay at the inn so they could watch Annie should a hole appear in the protection grid. I thought having
more witches at the ready during the séance was a good idea, but I couldn’t argue that leaving Annie to fend for herself was the right way to go.

  “I can’t calm you right now,” Landon said. “I have to focus on work. You’ll have to wait until we go to bed tonight for me to calm you. I promise to do it right when we have the time.”

  He’s so full of himself sometimes. The problem is that he always backs it up. “Fine, but I expect a massage, too.”

  “Oh, I was talking about a massage,” Landon deadpanned, his face full of faux innocence. “What were you talking about?”

  “Ha, ha.” I heaved out a sigh as I settled next to him. “We have hours to burn here before meeting at the tanker. What do you want to do?”

  “I think that’s a loaded question,” Landon teased.

  “You just said … .”

  “I was talking about giving you a massage,” Landon said, cutting me off. “You have such a filthy mind, Bay. It’s completely disgusting.”

  I pinched his side, causing him to bark out a laugh as he slipped his arm around my back and kissed my temple. “How are you feeling after last night?”

  The quick shift in the conversation – from playful to serious – took me by surprise. “I’m okay. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Landon said. “I’m more worried about you. You take things to heart more often than you should. I’ve been worried about what Belinda said to you. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

  I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but for once that goal was out of his reach. “Landon, I should’ve told Belinda right away that Annie wasn’t making up stories,” I said. “That’s on me. I can’t take it back, and Annie went through several harsh days of her mother calling her a liar.”

  “Belinda didn’t call her a liar,” Landon clarified. “Belinda didn’t realize the truth and thought Annie was exaggerating.”

  “That’s the same thing as calling her a liar.”

  “No, it’s a nicer way of calling her a liar,” Landon said. “Sweetie, I know you’re worried about Annie. We all want to keep her safe. You were in a tough spot, though. Admitting the truth to Belinda was a risk. There was no way you could’ve known that she already knew you were witches.”

  “Yeah? I was talking about that with Clove and Thistle today. We think it was kind of stupid to believe she didn’t catch on to the truth,” I said. “Thistle said that she understands why Belinda didn’t bring it up – and I do, too – because no one wants to be the person who calls their boss a witch.

  “So much weird stuff goes on at that house, though,” I continued. “I kind of forget because I’m used to the craziness. Aunt Tillie has started storms and cursed us into a fairy tale book since Belinda arrived. We’ve fought ghosts … and crazy people with guns … and other stuff. We should’ve told her the truth instead of letting it fester.”

  “I think that’s a good rule of thumb no matter who you’re dealing with, but in your case keeping your secret isn’t just a matter of not hurting someone else’s feelings,” Landon countered. “You need to protect yourself above all else.”

  “We need to protect ourselves, but not above all else,” I corrected. “Annie is more important than protecting ourselves.”

  “You fought for Annie and protected yourself at the same time,” Landon said. “That’s the most important thing to me.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I would be lost without you, so protecting yourself is very important. I need you to remember that even when the guilt eats at you.”

  “I could never forget that,” I said, offering him a genuine smile and a soft kiss. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure this out tonight. Have faith.”

  “Well, you’re going to figure out your end tonight,” Landon said. “I definitely have faith in that – mostly because Aunt Tillie refuses to lose and she’s a force to be reckoned with. I don’t know what I’m going to do about my end.”

  “The arsonist?”

  Landon nodded. “I think we made a mistake collecting that box you found last night. It was a stroke of luck that you stumbled across it.”

  “No fingerprints?”

  “We have fingerprints, but they’re not on record,” Landon replied. “Even if they were on record, we have no way of proving that the lighter fluid belongs to our culprit. It would give us someone to focus on, but that doesn’t mean we could get a conviction.”

  “I think you’re looking at this the wrong way,” I said. “Because we found those supplies and you took them in, we probably saved someone’s business – or maybe even someone’s life.”

  “You think because we took the supplies the arsonist didn’t have anything to set another fire,” Landon mused, nodding his head. “That’s an interesting thought. I hadn’t really considered it.”

  “That’s because you’re a downer sometimes.”

  Landon widened his eyes. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m just repeating something Aunt Tillie told me,” I teased. “She says you’re a downer because you can’t help yourself from focusing on the negative. I think you mostly see the positive, but when you do find something to be negative about you do seem to dwell on it.”

  “Oh, really?” Landon sounded serious, but I could tell he was feeling playful. “What if I told you I wanted to dwell on you for the next few hours?”

  “I would consider that a positive.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Landon pressed a lingering kiss to my mouth. I sank into it, basking in his warmth and the comfortable way his body seemed to meld to mine. I was so lost in what we were doing I initially missed the distinctive sound of someone clearing his throat. That didn’t last long, because a second person added his vocal disdain to the mix, and when I shifted my eyes to the spot across the picnic table I found Chief Terry and Noah staring at us. Neither looked happy.

  “I’m going to start carrying around a spray bottle full of water,” Chief Terry announced, sitting across from us. “That way I can spray the crap out of Landon whenever I feel things are getting too hot.”

  “I’m fine with that,” Landon said. “Bay looks good wet. Why do you think we take so many baths?”

  Chief Terry was horrified. “You’re a sick man.”

  “Yes, and Bay is going to check me for a fever later,” Landon said, purposely ignoring Noah’s steady gaze and focusing on Chief Terry. “Do you have anything?”

  “We’ve been wandering around for two hours, but haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary,” Chief Terry said. “I’m not sure what we can do other than wait.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Landon said. “We have no leads or suspects. We have the fingerprints that led exactly nowhere. It feels as if we’ve been working nonstop, yet nothing has come of our efforts.”

  “You’ve been working nonstop?” Noah arched a challenging eyebrow. “As far as I can tell you spent three hours with us this afternoon. That’s after you spent the morning doing something with Bay. You claimed it was for the case but never really explained what that something was. Then you took off early to meet Bay to investigate something else, and from what I can tell the only thing you’ve been investigating are her tonsils.”

  Well, that was fairly insulting. “I’ll have you know that I no longer have tonsils,” I said. “He was investigating my tongue.”

  Landon chuckled as he shook his head. “You’re not helping, Bay.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that’s what I was supposed to be doing,” I said, rolling my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest and channeled Aunt Tillie’s attitude. Landon, Chief Terry and Noah continued talking about the case while I ignored them and studied the festival. It was packed for this time of the week, the good weather beckoning everyone to enjoy summer’s last gasp, and for some reason I couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever was responsible for setting the fires was close.

  I didn’t get a chance to dwell on it long because that’s when Aunt Tilli
e made her appearance.

  “Oh, holy hell,” Landon gritted out when he caught sight of her. “I just … what is on her legs?”

  I rubbed my cheek as I studied Aunt Tillie, the necessity to laugh warring with the inclination to hide so no one could see us together. She’d apparently pulled out another pair of leggings to entertain the masses, and she wasn’t lying about them getting progressively worse.

  “Are those … cupcakes?” Noah asked, dumbfounded. He was staring over his shoulder with his mouth gaping open. I couldn’t really blame him for being taken aback. He hated Aunt Tillie with a passion, but that didn’t mean he could look away.

  “They appear to be cupcakes with gummy bears on top of them,” I said, forcing myself to remain calm. “Oh, that one on her hip seems to have a gummy shark on top of it.”

  “That’s not her hip, sweetie,” Landon said.

  “What is it?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Chief Terry warned, turning his back on Aunt Tillie and staring at me. “I don’t see a thing. I never saw her, so I don’t have to deal with it. I’m focusing on you. How are you, sweetheart?”

  He used to call me “sweetheart” all of the time when I was younger. He’d gotten out of the habit now that I was an adult, but I could tell Aunt Tillie’s outfit had thrown him for a loop and he was grasping at anything to focus on so he wouldn’t have to deal with the approaching horror.

  “I’m good,” I said, forcing a smile for his benefit. “Landon and I were just talking. Do you know it’s been almost a year since we met? Doesn’t that seem weird to you?”

  Chief Terry shrugged. “No. It would seem weird to me if you weren’t together. I’ve gotten used to seeing you as a couple, even though I fought it at the beginning.”

  “You fought it?” Noah asked, curious. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve known Bay since she was a child, and when I met Landon all I knew was that he was undercover and full of himself,” Chief Terry answered. “It took me a bit of time to realize that most of that swagger was manufactured.”