Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9

by Amanda M. Lee

  “What noise?” Aunt Tillie asked, feigning confusion. “I didn’t make a noise.”

  “You just made a noise,” Kelly said, waving the tire iron. I had a sneaking suspicion she returned to her car to fetch a weapon before following me. That would explain why I managed to stay ahead of her despite my bum hip.

  “I didn’t make a noise,” Aunt Tillie countered. “You’re hearing things.”

  “No, you clucked like a chicken or something.”

  “That wasn’t me.”

  “It was you!” Kelly was becoming increasingly shrill, which was making me increasingly uncomfortable.

  “Kelly, why are you doing this?” I asked, hoping to appeal to whatever sanity she had left. I was afraid it wasn’t much, but I had to try. “I don’t understand why you’d set your own booth on fire.”

  “I did that for the insurance,” Kelly replied, not missing a beat. She clearly didn’t see any point in denying her actions given the fact that I already saw the lighter fluid in the trunk of her car. “I planned on turning in a big claim for things that weren’t even in the fire. I need to make some quick money. But the booth didn’t burn nearly as much as I thought it would, and you guys put out the fire, so I couldn’t claim as much as I’d hoped.”

  “But … why?”

  Kelly shot me a “well, duh” look. “Because my husband left me! I need to pay the mortgage somehow.”

  Now that she mentioned it, I did hear something about that through Hemlock Cove’s very busy gossip mill. I wasn’t fond of Kelly to begin with, so I couldn’t muster up much sympathy for her. That didn’t mean I wished bad things upon her.

  “You could’ve gotten a loan,” I suggested. “The bank would’ve probably helped you. If it was just a short-term situation, I’m sure the bank would’ve tried to help.”

  “Except they wouldn’t,” Kelly said. “The bank didn’t give a fig about my problems. They said I had bad credit. Like it’s my fault they keep sending me credit cards.”

  That would explain the expensive shoes she always wore. “I … don’t know what to tell you,” I said after a beat, keeping my eye on the tire iron as I shifted my weight off my bad hip. “Perhaps you should’ve reined in your spending.”

  “Perhaps you should shut your mouth,” Kelly shot back. “Everything was going fine until you stuck your nose in my business and opened the trunk. Why did you do that?”

  “Because I heard a rumor that you were the arsonist and I didn’t believe it,” I replied. “I couldn’t figure out what your motive would be. Kelly, you know that many people saw exactly what was in your booth that day. If the insurance company is suspicious, they’ll ask questions and then you won’t get anything because they’ll suspect fraud.”

  “She’s not going to get anything from them anyway,” Aunt Tillie pointed out, her eyes predatory as they flicked over Kelly. She clearly wasn’t worried about our predicament. That was good because I didn’t have the energy to fight off Kelly should she attack. Aunt Tillie could do the heavy lifting today. “Instead you’re going to go to prison, Kelly. How does that sound as a nice tradeoff?”

  I was happy to let Aunt Tillie do the major work in this takedown, but I had to wonder if poking the angry pink bear in her custom-made boots was a good idea. “Aunt Tillie … .”

  Aunt Tillie ignored me. “I get that you’re not smart enough to realize how the world works and that you thought setting your own booth on fire and collecting a big payout from the insurance company would be good, but why did you go after Margaret? What was in it for you?”

  That was a really good question. If my hip didn’t hurt so much, I would’ve asked it myself. No, really.

  “I went after Margaret because she told everyone at the senior center that I was living beyond my means, and I was embarrassed,” Kelly said. “My mother asked me if what Margaret said was true. I lied, of course, but then I figured I might as well make Margaret pay. I thought if there were two fires the insurance company would pay out quicker.”

  Kelly sounded like a petulant teenager who felt as if the world owed her something. There was a certain entitlement in her voice. That was probably why I sensed the arsonist was younger. Kelly’s emotions had somehow stunted during the development process. She’d never become a true adult.

  “How did Mrs. Little even know about your situation?” I asked.

  “I tried to buy my mother a unicorn for her birthday and my credit card was declined,” Kelly supplied. “Margaret cut it up – she actually cut it up, can you believe that? – right in front of me. People don’t cut up credit cards any longer. The company didn’t tell her to do it. She did it on her own.”

  Sadly, that sounded exactly like the Mrs. Little I knew and … well, is “loathed” too strong of a term? “That sucks, Kelly, but there were a lot of other ways to deal with your problem,” I said, keeping my voice even. “You could’ve sold some of your shoes to pay your mortgage. You know, had a garage sale or something.”

  “I am not the type of woman who shops at a garage sale, let alone holds one of her own,” Kelly snapped, horrified. “That’s something poor people do because they have no other options.”

  Kelly clearly didn’t have an understanding of her financial situation.

  “You could get a job,” Aunt Tillie suggested. Her voice was far snottier than mine. “That’s what most people do when they need money.”

  “I have a job,” Kelly said. “I sell love potions at festivals.”

  “Fake love potions,” I muttered, earning a hateful glare from Kelly. What? That’s an important distinction.

  “That’s still not a job,” Aunt Tillie said. “A job is something you work at forty hours a week. Hemlock Cove may have a lot of festivals, but selling fake love potions at them is hardly full-time work.”

  “Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” Kelly snapped. “You don’t do anything but cause trouble, from what I can tell. How do you make a living?”

  “She’s in her eighties,” I argued. “She worked for a long time. She worked hard to make sure my mother and aunts were taken care of after my grandmother died. She’s retired now.”

  “Thank you for taking up for me, Bay, but I’m hardly retired,” Aunt Tillie scoffed. “I still make a fine living with my … side endeavors.”

  I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and gritted my teeth. Great. Now the conversation was going to meander into a direction that would benefit no one.

  “What side endeavors?” Kelly seemed legitimately curious. “Is it something I could do to make extra money?”

  “She’s talking about her wine business,” I supplied, leaving out the pot portion of Aunt Tillie’s income. No one needed to discuss that now. “She’s been honing her craft for a very long time. I’m sure she’d like an apprentice, though.”

  “I never thought of making wine,” Kelly mused, scratching her cheek. “I’ll bet the profit margin on that is high. What do you make a month?”

  I turned my attention to Aunt Tillie. “What do you make a month?” She’d never owned up to any hard numbers as far as I knew. It was a family curiosity, though. She seemed to have plenty of money for leggings and combat helmets … and a chainsaw no one knew about, for that matter. I still hadn’t heard what she did with that chainsaw, by the way. Did I really want to know? Probably not. That would only increase my heartburn.

  “That’s hardly important.” Aunt Tillie brushed away my question. “The point is that I work. I work hard even though I’m older. Notice I said older, not old, Bay. You seem to have missed the part where you need to work and make money so you can buy things. You simply want to buy things.”

  “That’s the fun part,” Kelly said, her face twisting. “Who wants to work? Working is for people who aren’t pretty … like Bay.”

  “Hey!” I had no idea why I was so offended. It’s not as if Kelly’s approval was important to me – and she was wielding a tire iron as a weapon, for crying out loud – but I can’t stand that high school
mentality. It’s irksome.

  “It’s true,” Kelly said. “You have to work because you can’t find a man to take care of you. That FBI agent you’re running around with clearly doesn’t want to marry you and supply a good household to share. You have no choice.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I seethed. “I don’t want Landon to take care of me. I want to be self-sufficient. I’m glad I have Landon in my life, but I don’t expect him to spend all of his money on me.”

  “Then you’re doing it wrong,” Kelly said. “He’s hot, though. Once you’re gone, do you think he’ll keep coming around town? I’d like to nurse his broken heart. He’ll certainly buy me what I want.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Landon wouldn’t touch you with Aunt Tillie’s chainsaw.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Aunt Tillie interjected, her eyes narrowing as she focused on one of the candles in the circle. She seemed suddenly agitated as the smoke on the two nearest candles turned from black to purple. What the heck is she doing out here? “Landon loves only Bay. He’d never fall for the likes of you.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Tillie,” I sniffed, brushing the dirt off the arm of my shirt. “I appreciate you saying that.”

  “She’s only saying that to make you feel better,” Kelly said. “She knows as well as I do that I’m prettier than you.”

  “You’re no prettier than my hemorrhoids on treatment day,” Aunt Tillie said. “Bay is beautiful inside and out, which is exactly why Landon loves her.”

  That was possibly the nicest thing Aunt Tillie had ever said about me. I was instantly suspicious. “Why do you keep staring at the candles?”

  Aunt Tillie ignored my question. “Your problem is that you don’t live in the real world, Kelly,” she said. “You don’t think you should have to work or pay for anything. You think that people should fall at your feet even though you have the personality of an inbred hooker in the middle of a train pull.”

  My mouth dropped open at the imagery. “How do you even know what that is?”

  “We have HBO,” Aunt Tillie replied simply. “Those shows have a lot of sex. I Google anything I don’t understand.”

  Ugh. I’d hate to see her search history. “That’s inappropriate.”

  “Does that really matter now?” Kelly snapped, annoyed. “Try focusing on me instead of each other. If you can do that, I would really appreciate it.”

  Aunt Tillie made an exaggerated face. “That’s also your problem,” she said. “You think the world revolves around you.”

  Kelly’s face was blank. “It does.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “The world revolves around the sun and we’re part of the world. No one person – not even me – is the center of anything.”

  Oh, that must’ve been hard for her to admit. “You’re growing as a person,” I said, looking her up and down appraisingly. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

  “Anything is possible, Bay,” Aunt Tillie said, her eyes going wide as another two candles started passing purple smoke. “Speaking of that … .”

  As if sensing something, Kelly risked a glance over her shoulder and frowned when she caught sight of the building clouds. “I didn’t know it was supposed to storm.”

  “Did you do that?” I hissed, shifting closer to Aunt Tillie even though my hip vehemently protested the movement. I should’ve realized something big was happening when I found her in the ritual clearing. I was too caught up in outrunning Kelly to focus on exactly what she was doing, and I had a feeling that would turn out to be a terrible mistake. “What’s happening?”

  “You need to calm yourself,” Aunt Tillie said, gripping my arm. “This isn’t my fault. Remember that.”

  Remember that? “What isn’t your fault?”

  Aunt Tillie pressed her eyes shut as the sky, which was sunny and clear when I left Hemlock Cove in the trunk of a car, darkened to midnight hues. Oh, this couldn’t be good.

  “What is this?” Kelly asked, confused. “Is it a tornado? That would be great, by the way. Everyone will think the two of you died in the storm.”

  Kelly’s simple statement drew my gaze back to the tire iron. She gripped it tightly, and her eyes had turned from annoyed to malevolent. She was ready to make her move. That appeared to be only one of our problems.

  “Aunt Tillie, what did you do?” I asked, frustrated. I was frightened of the tire iron – mostly because I didn’t think I could move fast enough to protect Aunt Tillie – but I was even more terrified of the storm. “Did you draw a circle and call the tanker ghosts here? Why are you doing this on your own? We were supposed to do it after dark.”

  “Yes, but I have a date with Kenneth after dark and I don’t want to change my plans,” Aunt Tillie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I thought I could handle things on my own and ease everyone’s burden.”

  I didn’t believe that for a second. “Why really?”

  “I don’t want my date with Kenneth to consist of babysitting you lot,” Aunt Tillie answered. “We want to have a nice picnic … alone. I can’t deal with the junior witch squad when I want to be the senior witch and go all the way.”

  “Omigod!” I was disgusted. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

  “Stop being a prude, Bay,” Aunt Tillie admonished. “It’s very unattractive.”

  “I have no idea what you two are babbling about, but I love watching you melt down,” Kelly interjected. “I don’t want to be here when the big storm hits, so we’re going to have to move this along. I’m sorry.” She took a step in our direction, raising the tire iron. “If you have any last words for one another … .”

  “I have a last word for you.” A warm male voice, one I recognized from every good dream I’d experienced over the past year, washed over the clearing and I jerked my head to the side as Chief Terry and Landon walked through the underbrush, both of them armed. “I believe the word is ‘freeze.’”

  The color washed from Kelly’s face when she realized we weren’t alone. “I … what are you doing here?”

  “I was about to ask you that question,” Landon replied, his eyes focused on Kelly even as he worked his way toward me. “What are you doing on private property with a tire iron?”

  “You don’t understand,” Kelly said, recovering from momentary shock. “They’re trying to kill me. I’m simply trying to protect myself.”

  “Really?” Landon arched a dubious eyebrow. “Then why did you hit my girlfriend from behind, dump her in your trunk and stalk her through the woods?”

  Kelly was beside herself. “I didn’t do any of those things.”

  “You did all of those things!” Landon roared, the wind picking that moment to speed up as the final candle’s smoke turned purple. “She texted me while it was happening. You took her. You were going to hurt her.”

  Kelly shot me a dirty look. “You texted him? That hardly seems fair.”

  And we were back to petulance. I couldn’t focus on Kelly, given the purple smoke. I knew exactly what was about to happen. I read about it in one of Aunt Tillie’s books when I was a teenager.

  “You set a spirit snare, didn’t you?”

  Aunt Tillie shrugged. “I thought it was the best way to go,” she replied. “Drawing the ghosts here and forcing them over through a magically created door is the only way I know to ensure that Annie will remain safe.”

  “What’s a spirit snare?” Chief Terry asked, his eyes widening as the wind whipped around us. “Seriously, what is going on here? It was completely clear in town.”

  “Things are about to get ugly,” I said, tentatively reaching out to grab Landon’s hand. “We need to get out of the circle.”

  Landon didn’t immediately respond to my words because he was focused on Kelly. His anger was palpable.

  “Landon!”

  “Kelly Sheffield, you’re under arrest for arson, attempted murder, kidnapping … and whatever other charges I can come up with when it’s not storming,
” Landon said, holstering his gun and reaching for his cuffs. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Kelly was incredulous. “You can’t arrest me. I’m … pretty.”

  Landon wasn’t swayed by her argument. “You’re ugly,” he said. “Only an ugly person would do any of the things you’ve done. Drop the tire iron and turn around.”

  I could hear a keening on the wind and when I turned to my right I saw glowing eyes – at least ten sets of them – flying toward us fast. The spirits were being drawn to the snare. We were out of time.

  “Landon!” I slapped Landon’s hand away when he moved to grab Kelly’s arm. He widened his eyes, surprised, but I didn’t give him a chance to respond. Instead I used my injured hip – pain screeching through me – and pushed him to the other side of the circle.

  I shoved so hard Landon couldn’t control both of our flailing bodies, and he tumbled to the ground. I grunted as I landed on top of him, the wind causing my hair to whip in a hundred different directions. Landon instinctively wrapped his arms around me.

  “What is this, Bay?” He had to yell to be heard over the wind.

  “Aunt Tillie decided to deal with the tanker ghosts herself,” I said, pressing my forehead into the hollow of his neck.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  The ghosts hit the circle with screams of protest, and I watched as Chief Terry shoved Aunt Tillie to the ground next to us. He didn’t look panicked, his cop training kicking in, but he didn’t look happy either.

  “How long will this last?” Chief Terry shouted, using his arm to protect Aunt Tillie’s head.

  “Until they’re all gone,” I said, cringing when I heard Kelly scream. We’d left her in the circle. I knew doing that would probably end badly for her, but Landon was more important.

  Landon pressed my face to his chest and wrapped his arms protectively around my shoulders as he stared at the whirling shapes in the circle. They were trapped and Kelly was somewhere in the middle … her screams growing weaker.

  “What happens now?” Landon asked.

  “The spirits are either forced to move on or – if they fight the process – they remain until they burn away.”