“You don’t know.” Clove’s eyes snapped open. “It could be Bigfoot.”
“I doubt very much that Bigfoot would allow itself to be hidden in a barn in the middle of nowhere,” I pointed out pragmatically. “I guess it could’ve been a dog or something ... but I have no idea why Hank would be so dedicated to keeping a dog’s identity secret.”
“Maybe he stole the dog,” Thistle suggested. “I think the Sandersons are looking for their dog. It went missing a few days ago.”
“That little rat dog that looks like it has no fur?” I made a face. “Who would steal that dog?”
Thistle shrugged. “Maybe he thinks it’s an alien.”
That dog was funky-looking. “I think we should go back.”
“Back to Hank’s barn?” Clove turned shrill. “I don’t want to go back to his barn.”
“He doesn’t have Bigfoot in there!” Thistle snapped. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Until I believe it,” Clove sneered. “I know what I know.”
“And you know Bigfoot is in the barn?” I challenged.
“I think that’s as likely as anything else.” Clove refused to back down. “What else could it be?”
“An alien,” Thistle replied without hesitation, refusing to look away when I snagged her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Oh, don’t look at me that way. We were all thinking it. Hank’s property is close to the crash site. If something escaped from the crash site ... .” She left it hanging, but following her rather obvious breadcrumbs was simple.
“I keep going back and forth on the alien thing,” I admitted, pulling off the highway and heading toward town. “One second I think it’s a ludicrous idea, and the next I believe it’s possible aliens are running around the woods. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Well, I think the idea of aliens is stupid even though I just said that it might be an alien,” Thistle announced. “I’m leaning toward Bigfoot.”
“You’re only leaning toward Bigfoot because you know it will drive Clove crazy,” I countered. “You don’t believe Hank is keeping Bigfoot in his barn.”
“I think Bigfoot is just as likely as aliens.”
“Which means you think it’s something else,” I surmised, rolling my neck as I pulled into a parking spot in front of Hypnotic. “Maybe it really is the Sandersons’ dog.”
“Oh, I just had a terrible idea.” Clove slowly unlatched her seatbelt and leaned forward. “What if he’s not keeping a dog or an alien out there? What if he’s keeping a person in his barn?”
I couldn’t wrap my head around what she was saying. “What person? How did we jump to a person?” I flicked a gaze to Aunt Tillie, surprised she wasn’t joining in the conversation. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing evenly, which meant she was asleep. The heat and the day’s exertion were enough to force an unforeseen nap. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“How should I know what person it is?” Clove shot back. “Hank probably drove to another town and kidnapped a woman to act as his wife. That’s who he’s keeping in his barn.”
Oh, good, we’d gotten to the “panic for no good reason” portion of the afternoon. It was only a matter of time. “So ... you think Hank drove to another town, kidnapped someone and is keeping her in his barn?”
Clove nodded solemnly.
“Does Hank even own a vehicle?”
“He’s got that old beater truck,” Thistle supplied. “I don’t think it has a license plate or anything. I’m pretty sure he just uses it to drive around his property.”
“He could’ve figured it out.” Clove was adamant as she folded her arms over her chest. “I bet I’m right. I bet he kidnapped someone. We should probably tell Chief Terry so he can go out there and check.”
That sounded like a terrible idea. “I think we would’ve heard if someone was missing. Stuff like that is big news up here. When Tina Clinton went quiet for two days because she had that boob lift everyone in town was looking for her within five hours. You can’t keep anything secret around here, and that includes a disappearance.”
“I guess you’re right.” Clove didn’t look happy as she broke off, chewing her bottom lip. The second her eyes sparked, I knew we were in trouble. “What if he didn’t kidnap someone? What if he bought a mail-order bride and has her locked in his barn?”
Thistle snorted. “What?”
“It’s not funny.” Clove was serious as she played with her engagement ring. “I saw a thing on Dateline about human trafficking. The mail-order bride sites are basically legalized human trafficking. I bet that’s what it is.”
I stared at her for a long beat. “You watch way too much television. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“You’ll be sorry when I tell Chief Terry what I suspect and I get all the accolades for pointing him toward a human-trafficking ring.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I opened the door and stepped out, making sure to leave the window open two inches so Aunt Tillie would have fresh air while she slept. I didn’t bother to ease the door shut. I knew once Aunt Tillie started napping there was no waking her up without a bullhorn. “You’re not telling Chief Terry anything. We’re going out there ourselves to investigate after dark.”
“Who is this ‘we’ you’re talking about?” Clove instantly challenged. “I am not traipsing through the woods in the middle of the night to search a barn that might be hiding Bigfoot.”
“You just said that you thought it was human trafficking,” Thistle pointed out.
“It’s either human trafficking or Bigfoot,” Clove sniffed. “I’m fifty-fifty on it right now.”
“Ugh. You’re such a kvetch.” Thistle lightly smacked the back of Clove’s head before turning to face the police station. “What the heck?”
I followed her gaze, confusion washing through me when I realized that every parking spot in front of the building was taken ... and some by area news vans. “I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“Look.” Clove pointed toward the building’s side patio. “What are all those people doing over there?”
I realized right away what was happening, although acknowledging what I saw wasn’t easy. Agent Gibson, Chief Terry and Landon stood in a central location on the patio. They were surrounded by at least seven other media representatives — two with cameras — and Gibson was talking as the reporters asked questions and jotted down notes. “It’s a news conference.”
“News conference?” Thistle furrowed her brow. “Why would they be holding a news conference?”
“About the crash.”
“Oh.” Thistle’s expression shifted to reflect sympathy as she cast me a sidelong look. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”
Always the last to catch on, Clove voiced her confusion before thinking it through. “You’re with the press,” she pointed out. “Why weren’t you invited?”
I pressed the tip of my tongue against the back of my teeth and shrugged. My emotions were completely out of control at this point, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to scream or cry. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
I picked an unhurried pace to cross the street even though I wanted to race to Gibson and smack him across the face. I knew that wouldn’t earn me any points, so I purposely stepped lightly. By the time we erased the distance, the conference was breaking up and the other reporters were scattering.
Landon’s was the first gaze I met. He looked ridiculously upset. “Where have you been?”
I ignored the question. “What was that?”
Gibson looked me up and down. “Who are you again?”
I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. “Bay Winchester.”
“She owns The Whistler,” Landon volunteered. “The town paper.”
“The town weekly paper.” Gibson’s eyes flashed with amusement as he shook his head. “I’ve seen that paper. It’s an advertorial.”
“It is not,” I protested, my temper coming out to play. “
Sure, we have a lot of advertisements. We also fill our news hole every week. It’s a real paper.”
“If you say so.” Gibson flicked his eyes to Chief Terry. “I was thinking we could hit the diner for a late lunch and to discuss our next step. How does that sound?”
Chief Terry looked caught. “Well ... .”
“We’re not done here,” I interjected, slowly drawing Gibson’s attention back to me. “I want to know why you had a conference without alerting me that it was taking place.”
“It’s not my job to alert you to anything, young lady.” Gibson turned stern. “News releases were sent out alerting area media representatives that we would be holding a conference. It’s not my fault you missed the notification.”
“But ... .” I shook my head. “No. I get emails on my phone. I know whenever anything is emailed to The Whistler.”
“I don’t believe that particular newspaper was included on the notification list, although I could be wrong. My secretary sent out the notifications. I didn’t do it personally.” Gibson was imperious as he looked down on me. “I believe only television and daily newspapers were notified.”
“What?”
“That’s not fair,” Landon interjected quickly. “She’s just as diligent about her job as those other outlets. If you purposely left her out of the notifications, that’s ... it’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Agent Michaels.” Gibson shot him a withering look. “Why do you care anyway?”
Landon’s jaw muscle twitched as his eyes narrowed. “Because she’s my girlfriend. We’ve already had this discussion.”
“Oh, right. I believe that discussion started with me pointing out that an FBI agent should never date a member of the media because it’s a conflict of interest. You stopped participating in the conversation not long after that.”
“That doesn’t mean I think you’re right.” Landon’s temper was close to the surface. He was about to get himself in a lot of trouble. “If you purposely left her out ... .”
“I didn’t purposely leave anyone out,” Gibson snapped. “I didn’t make the decision on who to notify. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the home office.”
“I just might do that.”
“Go ahead.” Gibson made a dismissive face before turning to Chief Terry. “Where did we land on lunch?”
Chief Terry boasted Landon’s same foul mood. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”
“Oh, well, your loss.” Gibson shrugged before stepping around me. “I’m going to lunch. I’ll see you gentlemen in an hour. I expect you’ll have ideas on the next stage of operation at that time.” He briefly glanced at me. “Don’t waste your time on the media, please. That part of our day is over.”
Landon barely managed to contain himself until Gibson was out of earshot. The second the prickly man disappeared inside the diner, he exploded. “Where have you been?”
I inadvertently stepped back in the face of his vehemence. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry.” Landon immediately held his hands up in apology. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’ve been trying to reach you for two hours. You didn’t answer any of my texts. I knew he was trying to keep you out of it the second he mentioned it.”
“You texted?” That was news to me. I dug into my pocket for my phone. It showed a litany of missed texts — almost all of them from Landon (although a few were from Chief Terry) — and each one urged that I get back to town right away. “Oh. You did text. My phone was on silent this afternoon. I didn’t realize.”
“We tried to get in touch with you, sweetheart.” Chief Terry looked pained. “I even called the inn in the hopes that your mother would be able to track you down. She said Tillie was missing, too, and assumed you were all together.”
“Aunt Tillie is sleeping in the car.” I gestured vaguely. “She was tired after our adventure.”
“Plus, she cranked up the heat so the car was a sauna,” Thistle added. “It was only a matter of time until she took a nap.”
“You can’t leave her in the car,” Landon groused. “I know it’s only spring, but she could die in there.”
“We cracked the windows.”
“Good thinking.” Landon’s expression was plaintive as he focused on me. “I’m sorry. I tried to reach you. I didn’t know what else to do.”
As angry as I was, it wasn’t directed at him. “It’s not your fault. You did your best. I was busy with other stuff, otherwise I’m sure I would’ve seen the texts.”
“What other stuff?” Chief Terry asked. “Do we even want to know what you were up to?”
“Given Agent Gibson’s dislike of me, I don’t think it’s wise to tell you what we were doing,” I answered honestly. “It’s not that I think you’ll blab as much as I don’t want you put in a position where you’ll get in trouble if you don’t blab.”
“I’m beyond caring about that right now,” Landon countered. “I’m sorry you were cut out of this. I’m upset on your behalf.”
That was clearly true. Oddly enough, it made me feel better. “I’m okay. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything of note in the conference anyway.”
Landon and Chief Terry exchanged a look. It was furtive ... and weighted.
“Well ... .” Landon shifted from one foot to the other as he shifted his eyes to me.
“There were a few things of note in the conference,” Chief Terry said finally. “All the points were handed out in a printed release. And we’re not allowed to comment on any of it.”
Oh, well, that just figured. “You can’t tell me what was said at the conference?”
“Almost nothing was said, Bay,” Landon replied. “You need to get your hands on the information sheet ... and we can’t give it to you. You’ll have to convince Gibson to hand it over, but I don’t think he’ll do it simply because you ask nicely. He seems to have attitude about me ... and he’s carried it over to you. I’m sorry for that.”
He looked so earnest I couldn’t hold out in the face of his misery. “Don’t worry about it.” I squeezed his hand. “Have you considered that he has attitude about you because of me?”
“He seemed to have attitude with me from the start. That was long before you were even mentioned.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t know about me,” I pressed. “It’s not as if our relationship is on the down low.”
“No, but I don’t think it matters.” Landon dragged a restless hand through his hair. “He won’t willingly give you that news release. You might have to go through the home office to get it.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I waved off his concern. “That release is the least of my worries. Just for the record, I might be sneaking out of the guesthouse again tonight. In an effort to keep the lying to a minimum, I’m warning you now.”
“I don’t want you running around the woods alone at night,” Landon complained.
“I won’t be alone.”
“Oh, I don’t like it when you say things like that,” Clove whined. “I don’t want to go with you. I object.”
“We’re not in court, moron,” Thistle snapped. “Good grief. You’re such a whiner.” She exhaled heavily as she flicked her eyes back to my car. The passenger door was open and Aunt Tillie was standing next to it, a dazed look on her face. “Good morning, sunshine,” Thistle chirped. “We’re so glad you could join us.”
Aunt Tillie’s expression was blank. “What did I miss?”
Alien Inspiration
Why would I want to go to space? I guarantee there’s no bacon in space. Sure, they might have something else, but I’m not taking that risk.
Landon on why he isn’t keen on space travel
Fourteen
Part woman. Part witch. All mayhem. The future of magic.
Landon insisted on walking me back to the newspaper. It was obvious he wanted us to have some time alone, but my mind was so busy I could barely focus on him.
“I’m sorry.”
I pulled up shor
t when I inserted my key in the door and turned to face him. “What are you sorry about?”
Landon was plaintive. “I tried to call you. I was livid when I realized Gibson planned to hold a news conference without you. I argued with him, but he wouldn’t budge.”
That’s when I realized Landon was taking this whole thing to heart more so than me, which wasn’t exactly healthy. “It’s okay.” I patted his arm and then directed him inside. “You didn’t do this. I’m not upset.”
Landon’s expression was dubious. “You’re not upset? Why don’t I believe that?”
“I don’t know.” I shut the door and started down the hallway, doing an about-face when I realized I was heading in the wrong direction. “My office is this way now.”
I pointed my finger, which Landon proceeded to catch as he stared hard into my eyes. “How can you not be upset? He was mean to you.”
I shrugged. “I spent the day with Aunt Tillie. Mean is a state of mind.”
Landon barked out a laugh. “I love you ... ridiculously.” He pulled me in for a hug and blew out a sigh as he rested his cheek on my forehead. “I can’t take much more of this.”
I decided to approach it from a rational direction. “Oh, yeah?” I pulled back so I could study his face. “What are you going to do to change the situation?”
“I thought I might quit my job and live on love.”
Now it was my turn to snort. “That’s cute.”
“I’m serious.” Landon’s face didn’t crack. “I’ll quit the FBI and become your love slave. You own a business now. You can be the primary breadwinner.”
“I hate to point out the obvious, but I’m the lone reporter in this town, and I wasn’t invited to an important news conference. I’m not sure how long I can keep us afloat.”
“Ugh.” Landon went back to hugging me, swaying back and forth as he growled. “I hate that guy. I mean ... I really hate him. I hate him so much I want to pull an Aunt Tillie, drive him to the woods, and use a whistle when I hunt him.”
Close Encounters of the Witchy Kind (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 6) Page 13