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A Witch Before Dying

Page 19

by Amanda M. Lee


  “And you think your great-aunt will be able to take me down?” Scarlet looked amused, but the emotion didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. In her eyes, I saw something else. I was pretty sure it was worry. “I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to be friends, but if you push things I’ll have no problem making you my enemies.”

  “I think we should save time,” Thistle said. “Instead of pretending to be friends and then having a big falling out, let’s just jump to enemies right from the start.”

  “Is that what you really want?” There was a challenge in Scarlet’s eyes.

  “That’s what we want,” Thistle confirmed.

  “So be it. You’ll be sorry. I’m not like any witch you’ve ever come across.”

  “That goes double for us from your perspective,” Thistle said. “You can show yourself out. I think it’s time for the curtain call on this show.”

  “Fine.”

  “Great.”

  “Good.”

  Thistle inclined her chin. “That’s your cue. Get out.”

  “And don’t look back,” I added, my agitation bubbling. “You won’t like what you see if you do.”

  Twenty

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  Landon found me in Hypnotic. Thistle and I worked on translating the Cornish journal, but everything we managed to dissect seemed to point toward an old Book of Shadows rather than a current spell book. It was interesting but ultimately uninformative.

  “Hi.” I flashed a smile. “Did you get anywhere today?”

  “We interviewed all of the fake Twiggs a second time,” Landon replied, groaning as he sank onto the couch next to me. “We had a lot more information come out this go around. Once Arthur realized the information was out he tried to control things for a bit, but that didn’t last long. Things turned into a finger-pointing mess. Your father was thrilled, by the way. I think he’s really growing quite fond of me.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. Landon and Dad were never going to be best friends, but they both did their best to get along for my sake. “I appreciate you trying to be friendly with Dad, even though it’s not your favorite thing.”

  “That’s not true,” Landon countered. “I like him … sometimes. I’m not thrilled with the fact that he left you as a kid, though.”

  “It’s over and done with. We can’t do anything about it, so there’s no reason to dwell on it.”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean I have to like everything he’s done.” Landon stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Did you find anything?”

  “I did.” I grabbed the stack of printouts from the online forum where people spent hours upon hours complaining about the Twiggs and handed it to him. “Some of it is kind of funny. Some of it is really sad. Some of it is borderline criminal.”

  “Some of what?” Landon narrowed his eyes as he read the top sheet. “What is this?”

  “It’s the history of the Twiggs,” I replied. “They’re apparently not very good bosses.”

  “Holy moly.” Landon flipped through several pages. “All of this is complaints about how the Twiggs run their business?”

  I nodded. “And then some.”

  “Well, that widens the suspect pool.” Landon rubbed the back of his neck. “If these ex-employees hate them to this degree that means someone could’ve been bitter enough to follow them to this location and kill Adele.”

  “Or someone was already here,” I suggested. “I’m not sure what to tell you on that front. You’ll have to get the Twiggs to turn over employee records, and from what people are saying about Arthur on that forum, he’s not much better than Adele.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been getting that feeling myself,” Landon admitted. “He’s kind of a douche.”

  “According to someone named Erica Buchanan in that mess of stuff I gave you, he’s also a sexual harasser and his wife blamed the victim whenever she complained about his groping hands.”

  Landon’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”

  “Sadly, yes. It turned my stomach a bit.”

  “I bet. I’ll have to go through this stuff after dinner. I guess that means I won’t have any time to spend with you.”

  “I’ll go through it with you,” I offered. “I made notes on some of it, and I know where the really interesting stuff is. It will cut down on your work time.”

  “Thank you.” Landon gave me a quick kiss. “Did you spend your entire afternoon on this?”

  I shook my head. “I did that while I was at the newspaper. Viola has decided she’s going to start haunting people, by the way. She’s looking at it as a new hobby.”

  “I thought you told me only people with ‘the gift’ can see and talk to ghosts.”

  “That’s true, but she claims she’s going to start teaching herself how to move items because she’s intent on haunting someone.”

  “That sounds … delightful.” Landon smirked. “Anything else?”

  “Well, I came here to tell Clove and Thistle about the faux incest going on with the Twiggs,” I started.

  “And we’re officially horrified,” Thistle announced from behind the counter, her gaze intent as she tallied inventory. “We’ve all decided that it doesn’t matter if they’re really related or not. The fake stuff is just as bad.”

  “I don’t think it’s as bad,” Clove argued. “I was overruled, though.”

  Landon shot her a sympathetic look. “That’s the story of your life, isn’t it?”

  Clove nodded without hesitation. “You know it.”

  Landon tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “So you really have been busy, huh?”

  “Pretty much,” I confirmed. “That was before we identified the language in the journal and your little girlfriend came over to pay us a visit.” I didn’t mean to put such emphasis on the word “girlfriend” but I couldn’t stop myself from being irked by Scarlet’s visit. Even though I wasn’t worried about losing Landon, her attitude chafed.

  “You know what’s in the journal?” Landon was intrigued.

  “It’s old Cornish,” Thistle replied. “We went through a lot of it. Spells and stuff. Cornish witches were a big deal back in the day – and there’s still a contingent of them around today – so once we realized what we were looking at we started figuring out the spells. None of it is particularly terrifying, but it’s interesting in a purely clinical way.”

  “Hmm.” Landon’s expression was unreadable. “Does that mean she’s a real witch?”

  “Maybe,” I answered. “She could also be a fake witch who stumbled across a real book. We’re not sure which yet.”

  “Oh, I think she’s evil,” Clove said. “Her attitude when she was in here makes Thistle look friendly.”

  Landon snorted. “Please tell me you guys didn’t gang up on her.”

  “Of course we didn’t.” I flashed what I hoped would pass for a serene smile. “Given your close personal relationship with her – she made sure to stress that to me, by the way – we’d never gang up on her.”

  Landon stilled, discomfort rolling over his features. “I’m sorry, but … what?”

  “She said she spent some time with you and Chief Terry today,” I explained. “She said you were very kind to her. She was thankful for your dedicated attention to assuaging her worries.”

  “Is that how she phrased it?”

  “Bay is the only person who uses the word ‘assuaging,’” Thistle said. “What do you think?”

  “Um … .” Landon broke off, uncertain. It was as if he sensed trouble but wasn’t sure which direction it was coming from.

  “She was mean,” Clove said. “She tried to make Bay jealous, but then Bay slapped her back and said that she wasn’t worried about you cheating on her.”

  “Did Scarlet make it seem like I was cheating on you?” Landon’s eyes locked with mine. “You know that’s not true, right?”

  “She didn’t say anything of the sort,” I said. “And, yes, I know you wouldn
’t cheat on me. That doesn’t mean I like her attitude. She was trying to infer certain things. It’s a woman thing that men don’t get, so don’t bother trying. I made sure she knew I wasn’t jealous.”

  “That’s good. You have no reason to be jealous.”

  “I’m still going to punch her the next time she opens her mouth,” I added.

  “Well, here’s hoping you won’t be around her the next few days so I don’t have to arrest you for assault.”

  I wrinkled my nose at his adorable expression. He thought he was being cute and flirty. I had some bad news for him, though, and now seemed the time to spring it. “We’re going to see her tonight.”

  Landon swallowed hard. “Excuse me?”

  “We’re going to see her tonight,” I repeated.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because Dad invited us to dinner,” I replied. “He said he’s been seeing a lot of you and not enough of me. He kind of trapped me into agreeing to go out there. I didn’t think it would be too bad because it would allow you to monitor the Twiggs a bit while eating.”

  “That’s fine. I’m perfectly happy to have dinner out there,” Landon said. “I don’t understand what Scarlet has to do with it.”

  “Oh, you mean your close personal friend who thinks you walk on water and wants you to keep her safe and warm?”

  “Oh, geez.” Landon pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought you said you weren’t jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous. I just totally want to punch her in the boob.”

  Even though it was a serious situation, Landon cracked a smile. “Okay, well … I don’t understand what the evil temptress witch has to do with our dinner plans.”

  “She’s staying at The Dragonfly, too.”

  Landon’s smile dipped. “Seriously?”

  I nodded. “It’s going to be a really tense meal. Don’t forget your antacid.”

  “Ah, well, I should’ve seen it coming,” Landon lamented, leaning his head back. “Things were going too smoothly today. I should’ve expected a big, honking roadblock to pop up. It shouldn’t be too terrible. No matter what you say, you always manage to keep your manners in check.”

  “She’s not the only one going,” Thistle interjected. “We’re going, too.”

  Landon cringed. “Well, that changes things, doesn’t it? We need to stop at the gas station for Rolaids on our way out there.”

  “That sounds like a wise idea.”

  “I’M SO GLAD YOU could come.”

  Dad was enthusiastic when he met us at the front door of The Dragonfly. He ushered us inside, giving me a warm hug before clapping Landon on the shoulder.

  “It seems like I just saw you,” Landon noted.

  “Yes, but this time you have someone I’m really happy to see with you,” Dad said.

  “You say that now, but I’ll bet you change your mind over the course of dinner.”

  “What?” Dad was puzzled.

  “Ignore him,” I said. “He’s crabby from a long day of questioning.”

  “Yes, well, I have to say that I was surprised when I realized that our guests weren’t really related by blood,” Dad admitted. “It does clear up some lingering questions I’ve had about some of the siblings slipping into each other’s rooms when they thought no one was looking.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Eww!”

  “Yeah.” Dad nodded. “Come on. Dinner will be served in about five minutes. I was worried you guys wouldn’t be on time. Clove, Thistle, Marcus and Sam are already here.”

  I kept my smile in place as we followed Dad to the dining room, amusement washing over me when I saw the look on Scarlet’s face. She sat next to Warren, Clove’s father, and stared bloody daggers at Thistle across the table.

  “I see we’re just in time.” I moved to sit next to Thistle, something I thought would give us an advantage, but Landon grabbed my arm and directed me toward the second open seat. “What?”

  “I’m sitting next to Thistle.” Landon was smart enough to know what I had planned and he clearly sensed trouble.

  “Why?” Dad asked.

  “Because I don’t see her nearly enough,” Landon replied. “I’ll miss her when she moves out of the guesthouse. Between all the bras and panties she leaves hanging around the bathroom and her absolutely lovely attitude first thing in the morning, it’s going to be a real hardship when she goes.”

  “The bras and panties were kind of an overshare,” Dad said.

  “Try living in my world for an hour,” Landon countered. He sat next to Thistle, pinning her with a warning look before unfolding his napkin and placing it in his lap. He forced a smile for the Twiggs’ benefit, but they didn’t look any happier to see him than Scarlet did to see us. “How is everyone this evening?”

  “I’m great,” Scarlet purred, her glare disappearing as she beamed at Landon. “I’m so happy you’re here. Our conversation earlier made me feel so much better – safe even – and I can’t wait to talk to you further.”

  Landon recognized Scarlet’s statement for what it was: a way to agitate me. “I think you must’ve gotten something out of our earlier conversation that I didn’t realize. Can you pinpoint exactly where it was that I insinuated we were close personal friends?” Landon wasn’t one to dally, and he immediately jumped into the thick of things.

  “I’m sure that’s not how I phrased it,” Scarlet countered.

  “That’s exactly how you phrased it,” Clove argued.

  “Yes, you’re a damnable liar,” Thistle added at the same time. “I think if we were trapped in a fairy tale world right now, your nose would be growing.”

  “Can we not bring that up?” Sam whined. He was cursed with the growing nose when we really were trapped in a fairy tale book, and his reaction made me smile.

  “Am I missing something?” Dad asked, taking his spot next to me and casting a worried look around the table. Unlike at The Overlook, the folks at The Dragonfly weren’t accustomed to dinner theater. If we were home right now, this dinner would’ve already devolved into something completely irrational and out of control. There might’ve even been flying desserts involved.

  “No,” Landon answered hurriedly.

  “Yes,” I countered, offering my father a wan smile. “We’re having a bit of a … thing … with Ms. Darksbane.” I saw no reason to lie. In fact, if anything, growing up with Aunt Tillie taught me that the truth can be a much better weapon than subterfuge.

  “A thing?”

  “Oh, this is going to suck,” Landon muttered.

  “Have some wine.” Marcus slid an open bottle in front of him. “Trust me. It helps.”

  Landon took the bottle without complaint. “I’m going to get drunk, Bay, so you’ll have to drive. That means you’re having a dry evening.”

  “Whatever.” I didn’t care about the wine. If I wanted to get drunk I knew where Aunt Tillie stashed her new liquor concoction in the greenhouse.

  “I’m still confused,” Dad said. “How do you guys know Ms. Darksbane? I thought she just arrived in town.”

  “She did,” Clove said. “She came to town and went straight to Mrs. Little to make friends.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned on Dad. “I see.”

  “You see?” Scarlet turned her full attention to him. “I don’t understand what the problem is. Margaret is a perfectly nice woman. She’s been wonderful to me. In fact, she’s the closest thing I’ve had to a mother since my own died a few years ago.” The look on Scarlet’s face was almost heartbreaking. She was good. We were raised by Aunt Tillie, though, so we were better.

  “I read something about you on the internet,” Thistle said, making a face as Marcus slapped her hand when she reached for the wine. “What are you doing?”

  “No wine for you,” Marcus replied. “Things are going to be bad enough without adding alcohol to the mix.”

  “I’ll remember this,” Thistle warned.

  “You read things about me on the internet?” Scarlet prodd
ed. “What kinds of things? My fortune-telling skills are known far and wide. I’m something of a legend.”

  “You certainly are,” Thistle agreed. “In fact, you’re such a legend a group of people claim that you approached them, offered to take a curse off them, and when they refused you really cursed them so they’d have no choice but to pay you to remove the curse.”

  “Wait … are we really talking about curses?” Greg asked, confused. Up until then he’d been silent and listening to the conversation with mild interest, casting the occasional look at Tess when he thought no one was looking. Apparently they were still hiding their relationship.

  “Don’t you have a sister to make out with or something?” Thistle challenged.

  “Cousin,” I automatically answered. “He likes to make out with his cousin, not his sister.”

  “She’s not really my cousin,” Greg snapped, casting a worried look in Arthur’s direction. For his part, the Twigg patriarch seemed to be losing himself in a bottle of wine, paying no attention to the conversation.

  “Shut up, Greg,” Tess ordered. “It looks like these chicks are going to get in a girl fight. I totally want to watch.”

  One of the other Twiggs, a man in his mid-twenties, enthusiastically nodded. “I totally want to watch the chick fight, too. I think it’ll be hot.”

  “It won’t,” Landon said. “They’re not going to pull hair. They might throw a few punches. There’s also a good likelihood that dirt will somehow be involved.”

  The man was blasé. “I’m fine with that.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Scarlet hedged. I didn’t miss the brief flash of worry that flitted through her eyes. “I would never curse someone just so I can cure them for money.”

  “That’s not what the internet says,” Thistle argued.

  “Do you believe everything you read on the internet?”

  “Of course not.” Thistle made a clucking sound with her tongue. “I don’t believe Elvis is still alive or that Tupac is living in the Swiss Alps. I don’t believe the Kurt Cobain was killed as part of some vast conspiracy for his music rights. The stuff I read about you, though, that I believe.”

 

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