“That’s kind of weird.”
“Yeah, well ... whatever.” Landon gave me a soft kiss before heaving a sigh and taking a step back. “What were you doing today that you missed all my texts? Your phone should have been pinging like crazy.”
Ah. We were delving into dangerous territory here. “I was out with a few people.”
Landon cocked an eyebrow. “Thistle, Clove and Aunt Tillie. I know. I saw you.”
“A few other people besides that,” I hedged. I didn’t want to lie — having a relationship built on trust wasn’t easy if you were constantly lying — but telling the truth could get me in trouble. I hated getting in trouble.
Landon recognized right away that I was averting my eyes and grew suspicious. “Who were you with?”
“Well ... .”
“Bay, I’m not going to bust you for this,” Landon said. “I feel guilty because you were cut out of the news conference. I’ll let you get away with murder no matter what.”
I brightened considerably. “Good point.” I beamed at him. “We were searching for information on what happened in Potter’s Field this morning — people report stuff like that on various blogs — and we stumbled across a group of people who we thought might have information.”
That was appropriately vague, right? I can never tell.
Landon narrowed his eyes. “I’ll need more information than that. Who is this group of people?”
“If I tell you, I’m fairly certain all that guilt you’re feeling will dry up and I won’t get my massage later.”
“What massage?”
“The one I’m going to force you to give me so I’ll feel better about being cut out of the conference.”
“Uh-huh.” Landon’s expression was hard to read. Over the eighteen months we’d spent together I’d come to recognize exactly what he was feeling by the way he held his face, but he was a mystery today. “Bay, who were you with?”
“Fine.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “There are these three guys who run a blog called ‘Aliens Among Us’ and they happened to be staying at the Dragonfly. We headed out there to see what they knew — and have lunch with our fathers, which didn’t go all that well — and then we all took a walk in the woods together.”
Landon was shocked. “Wait a second ... !”
“You held a news conference without me,” I reminded him, pressing my advantage.
“Knock that off.” Landon wrapped his hands around my wrists as he processed the information. “Why didn’t lunch with your father go well?”
The question caught me off guard. “Oh, well ... they think we’re nutty to be looking at the alien stuff, too. It didn’t help that Aunt Tillie followed us, invited herself for French Dip sandwiches, and then dripped au jus sauce down her shirt. Dad doesn’t find her half as endearing as I do.”
Landon snorted. “You had a French Dip for lunch? That sounds good. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“I’m sorry. I stopped carrying bacon around in my pockets to entice you because it was attracting area dogs. I don’t have anything to offer by way of a snack.”
“Ha, ha.” Landon slowly released my wrists. “Tell me about these guys. I’m not keen on you going into the woods with strangers.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re about nineteen and complete morons.”
“I figured that out when you told me the name of the blog.”
“Hey, you don’t know aliens aren’t out there,” I argued, remembering the look on Hank’s face when whatever was in his barn decided to make a noise. “There could be aliens out there.”
“I thought you were determined it was a drone,” Landon challenged.
Something occurred to me. “Is it a drone? Can you confirm that?”
“I can’t confirm anything, and you know it. I haven’t even seen the wreckage myself. Gibson has me filling out paperwork for things I haven’t seen and answering phones. I’m a glorified secretary.”
“Oh, poor baby.” I lightly patted his behind before giving it a squeeze. “You can be my secretary and I’ll sexually harass you.”
“That’s not funny.” Landon slid out of my grip. “Although ... I’m willing to play that game later if you bring me a bouquet of bacon to celebrate Secretary’s Day.”
“Good to know.”
“As for the rest, I don’t know what to tell you.” Landon’s eyes darkened. “I am frustrated to the point I want to go to bed the rest of the week and forget about this. I don’t like not being in charge.”
He said the words as if it were some big revelation. It took everything I had to hold back a laugh. “No. I never would’ve guessed that.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic, but it’s true. I want to be in charge. I’m used to being in charge. I don’t do well when I’m not in charge.”
“You sound like Aunt Tillie.”
“You mean that as an insult, but I don’t think she’s wrong on this front,” he countered. “Not being in charge is the worst.”
He sounded like a petulant child, but for some reason it warmed my heart. “You can boss me around later if you want. We can definitely play the secretary game.”
“I would rather have things back to normal. You know ... like when we work together. This case blows.”
“It definitely blows,” I agreed. “We both have to do what we have to do, though. I’m sure this will be over within a day or so. They’re already wrapping up the search at the crash site.”
Landon stilled, his eyes clouding. “How do you know that?”
Crap. “How do you think? I mean … I pretty much told you when I explained about how we were hanging with the bloggers.”
“You were out there.” Landon’s answer was simple, although his tone was shrill. “How do you keep getting out there without anyone seeing you? It was one thing to do it at night. We didn’t get that close and no one was looking that far into the woods. But now you’re doing it in the day. How are you doing it without being caught?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you that.” I tapped my finger on the end of his nose. “That’s a secret of the trade. I can’t tell ‘The Man’ my secrets in case you hold it against me in court.”
Landon scowled. “You know I’d never do that.”
“It was a joke. I also recognize that what you don’t know can’t hurt you. It’s better if I don’t tell you how I’m getting out there.”
“Fine.” Landon didn’t look happy, but he dropped it. “I know you said you were going on an adventure after dark tonight, but is there a chance we can share dinner before that?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.” He dropped an affectionate kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be in touch.”
ONCE LANDON LEFT — which he was reluctant to do — I focused on my inbox. Sure enough, the FBI had sent a news release at 9:36 a.m. Why I didn’t see it on my phone, I couldn’t say. It was too late to dwell on that, so I simply pushed it out of my mind. I would find the information another way. I had no doubt about that.
In addition to the news conference notification, I found I had at least fifteen people messaging to say they had photographs of the crash. Some wanted me to buy the photos — one guy was even asking six figures — but some were offering their photos for free. They simply wanted a photo credit. I focused on those.
“Huh.” Most of the photos were taken with cell phones, so the quality wasn’t great. It didn’t help that the incident happened late in the day, so there was some lens flare on a few of the images. The photos taken once darkness fell showed flames in a field and nothing else. There was one set, though, that was better quality than the rest. These were taken with a telephoto lens and I could actually make out some metal framework in a few of the shots.
“That’s interesting,” I murmured to myself as I tapped my lip. “That definitely doesn’t look like a plane.”
“What doesn’t look like a plane?” Viola, the newspaper office’s resident ghost, popped into existence at my left elbow, causing m
e to nearly jolt out of my skin. “What are you looking at?”
I tamped down my irritation and stretched as I bartered for time to calm myself. “Hello, Viola.”
“Hello.” Viola was bright-eyed and happy as she stared at my computer. “Seriously, what are you looking at?”
I tried to remind myself that Viola was a vast improvement over the last ghost who haunted the newspaper offices. Sure, she was annoying and sometimes said inane things, but she wasn’t terrible. She wasn’t judgmental and blatantly racist or anything. That was a big step up from the former ghost, Edith, who never met a terrible opinion she didn’t want to hold.
“These are photographs from the incident at Potter’s Field,” I explained after a beat. “Have you heard about that?”
Viola nodded, solemn. “They say it’s aliens.”
I was taken aback. “Who says it’s aliens? Have you been hanging around Aunt Tillie?”
“Only when I’m in the mood to see if I can get her blood pressure to spike,” Viola replied. “Everyone in town is talking about it. They say that aliens landed in the field and the government is hiding it.”
This was news to me. I thought the only ones considering such a ridiculous idea shared Winchester DNA. “What are they saying?”
“A lot of different things. Doris Andrews swears up and down she saw creatures with glowing eyes hiding in her bushes. She called Terry, but he told her she was imagining things even though she described the masks the aliens wore to perfection.”
That didn’t make sense. “What masks?”
“You know. Eye masks.” Viola demonstrated with her ethereal hands. “Aliens can wear masks. There’s no rule.”
I rolled the idea through my head. “Are you sure she wasn’t looking at raccoons?”
“Why would it be raccoons?”
“Because their eyes seem to glow in the dark at times.”
“Hmm.” Viola turned thoughtful. “I didn’t really consider that. She did say the glowing eyes were close to her trash bins. I guess that makes sense.”
“Yeah.” I rolled my neck as I turned back to the photos. “Does that look like a plane to you?”
Viola followed my gaze. “Not any plane I’ve ever seen.”
“I know. It’s something else.”
“Flying saucer?”
“I’m leaning toward drone.”
“Drones are tiny. You can control them with joysticks and stuff. I’ve seen them at Target ... you know, back when I was alive.”
“There are different types of drones.” I scratched my temple and shifted my eyes to the window when I caught a hint of movement out of the corner of my eye. “What the heck was that?”
“What?” Viola was more interested in the photograph on my laptop than the great outdoors. She didn’t bother looking up. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary in this photo.”
“No, I wasn’t talking about that.” I slowly got to my feet and moved to the window, pressing my forehead against the glass and gazing out. A furtive shadow disappeared around the far corner of the building before I could make out a figure. “Huh. I’ll be right back.”
I left Viola with my computer and headed toward the back door. When I had taken over the newspaper, Landon made sure to change all the locks because he wanted to make sure no one could get inside while I worked. He was especially concerned about the rear door, which tended to stick and give the illusion of being locked when it wasn’t. That was the door I opened now. The two people I saw standing on the other side of the threshold were not ones I expected.
“Mrs. Little?”
Mrs. Little flashed a bright smile, although her eyes looked unfocused. I couldn’t decide if she really was acting differently or I was simply projecting my inner worry on her. It was a fifty-fifty proposition. “Hello, Bay. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”
I’d never known Mrs. Little to be fixated on the weather so much. Sure, she worried when we had an upcoming festival, but she never gave it much thought otherwise. She’d mentioned it several times the past few days, and it was odd.
“Yeah, it’s great.” I licked my lips and studied the woman with Mrs. Little. Oddly enough, it was the same woman Viola was talking about only moments before. “Hi, Doris. I’m surprised to see you hanging about today. I heard you had an otherworldly visit to your garbage cans this week.”
Doris merely shrugged. “How did you hear that?”
“I can’t exactly remember,” I lied. “Someone told me. I wish I could remember who.”
“Yes, well, I was mistaken.” Doris was more succinct than normal, her eyes roaming my face but never settling. “I thought I saw something outside, but it turned out to be nothing.”
“I thought maybe it was raccoons.”
“Yes, raccoons.” Doris bobbed her head. “I’m sure it was raccoons. May we come inside?”
The harsh transition was enough to jar me. “You want to come inside the newspaper office?”
“Why else would we be here?”
“I don’t know.” I flicked my eyes to Mrs. Little. “Are you here for a specific reason? I mean ... do you need something? Are you feeling all right?”
“We’re here to see you,” Mrs. Little said, her stiff smile remaining in place. “We’ve been visiting various business owners. You’re next on our list.”
“But ... why?”
“We’re simply enjoying the spring day.”
Mrs. Little’s response was almost robotic. It set my teeth on edge. “Well ... that’s interesting and a little weird. I’m busy.”
Mrs. Little’s eyes gleamed. “Busy doing what?”
“Working.”
“On what?”
Was she kidding me? “On newspaper stuff.” My gaze bounced between both empty faces, and I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m great.” Mrs. Little squared her shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I be great? It’s spring and it’s a fine day.”
“It’s a pip of a day,” Doris agreed. “We would really like to come inside and look around, maybe sit down with you and share some ... good conversation.”
If I thought this particular meeting of the minds was odd before, that was nothing compared to the discomfort rolling through me now. “Well ... I’d love to sit down with you, but I have other things to deal with. They really can’t wait. How about we set up an appointment to talk about things?”
“That sounds lovely,” Doris enthused. “Are you free in twenty minutes?”
“No. I was thinking more like next week.”
Doris immediately started shaking her head. “That’s not going to work for me.”
“It’s the best I can do.” I remained firm. “I’m sorry if that doesn’t work for you, but I have a schedule. I can’t break from it.”
“That doesn’t work for me,” Doris repeated, turning to face Mrs. Little without making eye contact. “That doesn’t work for us, right?”
“No.” Mrs. Little clutched her hands together and shook her head. “That doesn’t work or us. We need to spend time with you today.”
The more they talked, the antsier I felt. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but ... I’m out of time. I’ll text you when I can squeeze you in. How does that sound?”
“It’s not going to work for us,” Mrs. Little repeated. “Not at all.”
She sounded like a skipping record. “Okay, well, we’ll figure something out. You should probably continue enjoying your day. I’ll text you later.” I hurriedly shut the door and locked it, not caring in the least that I probably came off as rude. Mrs. Little was used to me being rude.
When I turned, I found Viola hovering behind me.
“Well, that was weird,” she said. “What’s up with Margaret?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. That was straight out of an alien movie.”
“I told you it was aliens.”
“I’m not sure it is, but something weird is going on here. We need to find ou
t what.”
Alien Inspiration
I’m the Captain Kirk of FBI agents. Whenever someone says it can’t be done, I prove them wrong. I also over-enunciate when I’m trying to make a point. It’s a trade-off.
Landon on living a Star Trek life
Fifteen
May the hocus pocus be with you.
I was nervous when it came time to leave The Whistler.
For some reason — and I knew it was ridiculous — I couldn’t shake the odd way Mrs. Little had been acting. Something was seriously off. And, while accepting that aliens might be to blame made me look like an idiot, that also seemed to plug a few plot holes in the ongoing narrative.
I walked the building, checking every window for hints of movement, and then sat at the empty front desk and called Landon. He answered on the third ring.
“If you’ve decided to think better of it and want to be angry about earlier, I won’t allow it,” he said by way of greeting. “I can’t take another argument.”
He sounded wearier than I felt. “I don’t want to argue.”
“Good. What’s up?”
“Where are you?” I tried to sound casual, but my heart skipped a beat when I saw a shadow move past one of the windows. Most likely it belonged to a bush ... or the budding leaves ... or maybe even a flag. I couldn’t get the idea of Mrs. Little and Doris as pod people attacking me.
“I’m at the station.” Landon sounded bored with the conversation. “Where are you?”
“The Whistler.”
“Still? I thought you’d have finished up hours ago. Are you heading home? I can meet you for dinner at the inn if you want.”
“They’re having steak tonight,” I said automatically.
“I like steak.”
“It’s not your favorite. I thought maybe we could hit the diner. We’ll be able to get in and out without being caught up in family drama.” And spend some time alone, I added silently.
Landon was silent for a long time. I could practically hear his mind working through the call. “We can eat at the diner. That sounds good.”
Close Encounters of the Witchy Kind (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 6) Page 14