wicked witches 07.6 - bewitched

by Amanda M. Lee

  “How are things going out at the Dandridge?” Clove asked, changing the subject. “That has to be a big job.”

  Clove was familiar with the Dandridge thanks to her father’s former girlfriend, a woman who used the facility to aid a human trafficking operation that stowed a large container ship in the nearby cove. She worked with her cousins – and Aunt Tillie – and saved several children, releasing a female ghost at the same time. I was still unclear how Aunt Tillie helped, but I was too much of a gentleman to ask. Actually, that’s not true. I’m terrified of Aunt Tillie. I’m manly enough to admit my faults.

  “It’s a lot of work, but I’m enjoying it,” I said. “There’s constant construction going on, which is a pain. I’ve seen some computer renderings of what the inside is going to look like when everything is finished, and it’s going to be beautiful. That’s keeping me going right now.”

  “How much living space do you have?” Clove asked. “The building looks big because of the tower, but I can’t imagine there’s a lot of room to wander around.”

  “The main floor is actually more than two thousand square feet,” I replied. “There’s also a landing area on the second floor and another room on the top floor. I’m turning the top floor into my bedroom and closing it off so visitors can’t go inside. The landing on the second floor is going to be transformed into a library. I’m ordering a bunch of antique books.”

  “That sounds cool,” Clove said, her smile genuine. For some reason my heart hopped at the expression. I had no idea why. “Aren’t you worried about Bigfoot, though?”

  I frowned. “I … what?”

  “Bigfoot,” Clove repeated. “Thistle and Bay said it hangs out in the woods by the lighthouse.”

  “And you believe that?” She was cute, but I was starting to worry Brian was right about the “crazy” factor overtaking Hemlock Cove.

  “No,” Clove replied hurriedly. “I know they were only trying to scare me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Fine,” Clove said, resigned. “Now that they’ve told me Bigfoot lives out there that’s all I can think about. I have to think Bigfoot is mean and nasty.”

  “I’m guessing if Bigfoot is real – and I’m pretty sure he’s not – that he’s probably pretty easygoing,” I said. “He would have to be … congenial … to live under the radar like he does. If he was mean someone would see him and he’d be arrested … or at least forced into anger management classes.”

  Clove chuckled at my lame joke. “That’s a good point,” she said. “I’m still convinced he’s going to hunt me down and eat me.”

  “Bay and Thistle mess with you a lot, don’t they?”

  “I’m their favorite target,” Clove confirmed. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

  “That doesn’t sound fair to me,” I said. “You should tell them where to stick it when they tell you things about … Bigfoot.”

  Clove shrugged. “I’m not really worried about it,” she said. “They’re my best friends. I mess with them, too.”

  “You mess with Thistle?” I was doubtful.

  “Only when I’m hungry for dirt,” Clove answered, causing me to knit my eyebrows. I had no idea what that meant.

  “Well, if you ever want to see inside the lighthouse – and I promise a Bigfoot-free experience – don’t hesitate to stop by,” I offered. “You’ll probably like it, and because you own your own business in town, I would welcome any insight you have for when I open the Dandridge.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Clove hedged, shifting from one foot to the other. “We probably shouldn’t hang out.”

  “You don’t like me because of Bay, right?”

  “I don’t dislike you,” Clove argued. “I just … Bay doesn’t trust you.”

  “Do you agree with her?”

  “I don’t know,” Clove said. “I … you seem nice to me. Thistle and Bay see it another way.”

  “Bay is convinced I’m up to something nefarious, and Thistle likes to hate everyone,” I supplied. “I get it.”

  “Thistle doesn’t hate everyone,” Clove argued.

  “Other than Marcus and the other members of your family, who does she like?”

  “She’s fond of the UPS delivery guy,” Clove said. “He always hits on her and thinks she’s bohemian and chic. She likes him.”

  “Well, that’s something,” I said, tamping down my irritation. In truth, I couldn’t blame Bay for being suspicious. I lied and infiltrated her place of business, and then followed her around town trying to get proof regarding my witchy suspicions. That was all before I ambushed her with the truth and put her on the defensive. Thistle was another story. She was just … unpleasant. “I hope you know that I don’t mean your family any harm.”

  “I would like to believe that,” Clove said, her face unreadable.

  “You don’t, though, do you?”

  “I would like to,” Clove said. “It really doesn’t matter. Thistle and Bay don’t believe you, and I have faith in them. They’re my family … and my friends. I’m loyal to them.”

  That pretty much summed it up. I forced a tight smile for Clove’s benefit, hoping she wouldn’t think I was upset about her admission. “Well, if you change your mind, stop out whenever you want,” I said. “I think you’ll like it … whether Bigfoot pays a visit for tea or not.”

  I SPENT the bulk of my afternoon in the front of the building, the overgrown garden giving me fits as I tried to clean up the area. I had no idea what was a weed or a legitimate plant. I knew the garden was gorgeous at one time, but it was so out of control now that the life was being choked out of it.

  The sound of a vehicle door closing caught my attention, and when I glanced over my shoulder I recognized the figure moving up the gravel walkway. Terry Davenport was Hemlock Cove’s top cop. He was beloved by the residents and tight with the Winchesters. This couldn’t be good.

  For a brief moment I wondered whether Clove accused me of trying to kill her – she appeared serious about that head wound thing – but I dismissed the notion. She was too kind to do anything of the sort.

  I pushed myself to a standing position, brushing my hands off on my jeans as I waited for Chief Terry to close the distance between us. I pasted what I hoped resembled a pleasant smile on my face. “Welcome to my ongoing nightmare,” I said.

  “Is something wrong?” Chief Terry asked, furrowing his brow. “Are you having trouble?”

  “I am having trouble,” I confirmed. “It’s not your kind of trouble, though. Unless … do you know the difference between weeds and legitimate plants?”

  Chief Terry arched an eyebrow and shifted so he could look around me. “That’s creeping thistle,” he said. “It’s a weed, and it hurts if you step on it. You need to dig under it to get it out … and I recommend wearing gloves if you don’t want to shred your hands.”

  “Thistle, huh?” Why didn’t that surprise me? It seemed thistle was out to get me … in more ways than one. “That’s just … perfect.”

  Chief Terry chuckled, taking me by surprise. “I take it you’re still fighting with the Winchesters,” he said. “I would tread carefully around them if I were you.”

  “I’m well aware of your special relationship with the family,” I said. “I sat through a few meals with you, if you remember correctly.”

  “I remember,” Chief Terry said. “You’re less popular than your buddy Brian Kelly. That’s a neat feat, because they pretty much despise him.”

  “And you’re very popular with the middle-aged women in the Winchester family,” I shot back. “That’s a neat feat, too. I love how they fall all over you.”

  “I love it, too,” Chief Terry said dryly. “Do you want to tell me how you managed to tick them off?”

  “I think you already know,” I said. “Don’t they tell you everything?”

  “They don’t tell anyone everything,” Chief Terry said. “I know you upset Bay. Whatever you did, I’m on her side. Keep that in mind. A
nd don’t tick them off again.”

  “Is that an official warning?”

  “Take it however you want,” Chief Terry said. “I’m not here about that, though. I have official business; but before we get to that I want to compliment you on the building. It’s looking good. I want to give you props for that. I never liked how the state let this place fall apart. I’m glad you’re refurbishing it.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” I said, my internal danger alarm sounding. Why would Hemlock Cove’s police chief visit me on official business? “What’s going on?”

  “Well, we’ve had reports of local teenagers raising a ruckus out here,” Chief Terry said. “I want you to be on the lookout in case they try to break into the lighthouse or vandalize any of the construction.”

  “I’ve been living out here,” I pointed out. “I think I would’ve heard something like that.”

  “We’ve gotten four different reports from neighbors,” Chief Terry supplied. “I think the kids are partying out here from the sounds of it, but Lionel Strong claims that they’re out here sacrificing chickens, so I have to exert due diligence.”

  Despite its size, there’s never a dull moment in Hemlock Cove. “Sacrificing chickens?”

  “Listen, I don’t think that’s what’s going on,” Chief Terry said. “The teenagers around here pick different spots in the woods to party. A lot of them go out to Hollow Creek, but when they’re feeling adventurous they branch out.”

  “I guess I’m not sure why it’s a problem,” I said. “They’re teenagers. Isn’t partying in the woods pretty much what teenagers do?”

  “I’m a police officer.”

  “I noticed.”

  “I look the other way a lot of the time when it comes to the partying,” Chief Terry said. “If I catch them, most of the time I call their parents and let them off with a warning. This is a small town, and I don’t see the need to bust kids for doing what comes naturally.

  “That being said, if they’re doing something else … like sacrificing chickens … I really can’t ignore it,” he continued.

  “Just out of curiosity, why would teenagers sacrifice chickens?” I had to ask. It was going to bug me if I didn’t.

  “Lionel Strong is eighty years old and has cataracts,” Chief Terry replied. “He swears up and down he heard chickens screaming. Personally, I didn’t know chickens screamed.

  “The thing to remember is that Lionel also came into the station last month and told me that witches were haunting the woods in this area,” he continued. “He was convinced they were out here casting spells and calling dead souls to eat the living.”

  “Technically Bay, Thistle and Clove Winchester were running around these woods last month,” I said. “Some people claim they’re witches. Lionel wasn’t far off.”

  “I hadn’t considered that,” Chief Terry said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still, I’m pretty sure no one is sacrificing chickens.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because people report stolen chickens faster than they do stolen cars in this town,” Chief Terry replied. “I think it’s more likely Lionel heard cackling of an amorous nature.”

  It took me a moment to grasp what he was insinuating. “Oh. You think the kids were partying … and maybe fornicating … and Lionel misunderstood what he heard. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

  “I’m not thrilled with the word ‘fornicating,’ but that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Chief Terry said. “Just … be on the lookout. I don’t think anyone is plotting world domination or doing anything worse than drinking and carousing, but you should keep your eyes open.

  “If I’ve learned anything doing this job, it’s that kids will be kids,” he continued. “I’ve also learned that sometimes kids don’t think things through before they do something stupid. Be careful, and report any vandalism. In fact, report anything out of the ordinary, just to be on the safe side.”

  It seemed like overkill to me, but the last thing I wanted was to be on Chief Terry’s bad side. “No problem,” I said. “I haven’t heard anything so far, but if that changes, you’re the first one I’ll call.”

  Three

  I woke in the middle of the night, something jarring me out of my sleep. I’d been enjoying a particularly nice dream, although I could only remember fragments about a dark-haired woman and the magical sound of her laughter when I wrenched my eyes open.

  It took me a moment to get my bearings, and when I remembered I was sleeping on the main floor of the Dandridge, I rolled so I could scan the fields outside the nearby window. It was dark outside, the blackness momentarily reminding me just how isolated I was in respect to the rest of the town. That’s when I heard a distinctive noise again. It was the unmistakable sound of laughter.

  I knit my eyebrows together, briefly wondering whether what I heard was representative of the giggling I heard in my dream. The day’s events rushed back, and I knew without a doubt what was happening.

  I grabbed a sweatshirt and tugged it over my head, slipping into my shoes before pushing open the front door and trudging outside. If Chief Terry hadn’t gone out of his way to stop by with his warning, I would’ve ignored the noise. Confronting partying teenagers isn’t my idea of a thrilling midnight excursion.

  I followed the sound of the voices, stopping twice to adjust my trajectory, and when I found the source about two hundred feet into the densely wooded area I wasn’t surprised to see a bonfire, several cases of beer and about ten rowdy kids. It brought back fond memories – which I quickly tamped down because I’m a responsible adult now.

  “Hey, guys.” I greeted the kids with a sheepish smile and upturned palms. “Um … it’s kind of late.”

  Multiple heads snapped in my direction, although no one made a move to hide what they were doing. The pungent odor of marijuana wafted by, and I briefly pressed my eyes shut before addressing them again.

  “This is private property,” I said. “You’re not supposed to be out here. I don’t suppose you can … I don’t know … move your party about a half mile in that direction, could you?” I pointed to the east, hoping my smile came off as congenial instead of creepy.

  “Are you saying this is your property?” One of the boys, a swarthy kid with broad shoulders, dishwater blond hair and too much swagger for his age, narrowed his eyes as he looked me up and down. “I think you’re probably lost.”

  “Don’t cause trouble, Andy,” one of the girls warned.

  Andy didn’t look happy with the admonishment. “Thank you, Tess. I don’t believe I asked your opinion.”

  Tess had the grace to look abashed, shifting her gaze between faces before lowering her eyes. “I just meant … .”

  “Shut up,” Andy snapped. “No one is talking to you. You’re lucky to have been invited at all. I’ll handle this.”

  I never boasted aspirations to act as a member of the Neighborhood Watch, but the way Andy verbally abused Tess was beyond the limits of my patience. “Don’t talk to her like that,” I chided. “There’s no reason to be rude.”

  “I think there is a reason to be rude,” Andy countered, squaring his shoulders and taking a step toward me. It didn’t escape my attention that he was a good six inches taller than me, and a lot more muscular. I didn’t back down despite the irrational fear tap dancing in the pit of my stomach. “Why don’t you go back to whatever you were doing and leave us to our business? How does that sound?”

  I ran my tongue over my teeth as I considered my options. “That sounds like a great idea,” I said finally, taking a moment to study each face in turn and then swiveling back toward the Dandridge. “Just so you know, I’ll be contacting Chief Terry. He asked me to call if I heard any kids partying in the woods. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to drive out here and bust you guys.”

  Someone mime-coughed the word “narc,” and I couldn’t help but wonder when I became the type of adult who threatened to call the cops.

  “Wait … .” Andy called to my back. �
��I … there’s no need to do that.”

  I tried to keep my expression from crossing over into smug territory … and failed. “I think that’s exactly what I need to do,” I replied. “Don’t worry, though. You can keep doing your … business … to your heart’s content.”

  I CONSIDERED going into town for breakfast the next morning, instead settling for Raisin Bran and an apple before returning to my garden project. If I was going to be an adult, I figured being a responsible one was probably my best course of action.

  I tracked down a pair of gloves in the shed out back and was on my way to the front garden when I changed my trajectory and headed to the previous evening’s party spot.

  It took me a few minutes, but when I arrived I wasn’t surprised to find garbage and empty beer cans strewn about, discarded in haste when the teenagers made a run for it after my threat. For the record, I didn’t follow through on it. Now I was reconsidering my decision.

  I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat and briefly considered leaving the mess – or calling Chief Terry to find out who Andy was so I could call his parents – before returning to the lighthouse to retrieve a garbage bag.

  When I got back to the small clearing I was surprised to find a visitor. I recognized the dark hair and short stature before Clove turned around.

  “Holy crud! You scared me,” Clove said, hopping when she caught sight of me and pressing a hand to the spot over her heart.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, holding my hands up, the garbage bag dangling in the wind. “I promise I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

  “That’s okay,” Clove said, her face flushed. “I … um … .”

  Before I realized what was happening she lashed out and slapped my arm. “What was that for?” I asked, taking an involuntary step back and fixing Clove with an incredulous look.