Wicked Brew

by Amanda M. Lee

  The girl suddenly made a move, just not the one I was expecting. She reached out and grabbed a piece of my blue hair, running it through her fingers as she studied it.

  “It’s blue,” I said. “Do you like the color?”

  The movement was hesitant, but the girl nodded. Well, it was something. At least we knew she understood us. I held out my hand. “Will you come with us? We can get you some food, and something to drink.”

  “And hopefully find out where you belong,” Bay said.

  The girl tentatively reached her hand out and placed it in mine as she let us lead her back to The Overlook. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

  “OH, YOU poor thing,” Winnie cooed as she moved toward the anxious girl.

  We’d only been inside for three minutes when our mothers descended with cookies, juice and fresh hand towels.

  The girl visibly shrank as she buried her head into my side. I held up my free hand to ward them off. “You’re overwhelming her.”

  “She’s hurt,” Mom said, nonplussed. “She needs to be taken care of.”

  “Why don’t you call Landon?” I suggested to Bay. “He might be able to help us here.”

  Bay nodded as she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. “I’ll do it in the other room. You know, little ears … .”

  “I think we should take her to the hospital,” Marnie said. “She’s clearly been hurt.”

  “I think we should feed her,” Winnie argued.

  “I think I should give her a hug,” Mom said, dropping to her knees and holding her arms out wide. Mom’s first response whenever anyone is hurt – or annoyed – is always to hug, even if her Ronald McDonald hair is enough to terrify anyone with a healthy fear of clowns.

  “We’re trying not to traumatize her, Mom,” I said.

  Mom swished her mouth from side to side, offended. “I’m not trying to traumatize her. I’m trying to … love her.”

  “Someone needs to get you a cat,” I grumbled. I glanced down at the child. “Do you want to sit at the table?”

  She shook her head.

  “Would you do it if you were sitting on my lap?”

  The girl tilted her head to the side, considering. Finally, she nodded. I sighed as I sat down at the end of the table and patted my lap. She climbed up quickly, immediately reaching for the glass of orange juice Winnie had placed there to entice her. She slammed it so fast I thought she was going to choke herself.

  “Slow down,” I said. “You can have as much of it as you want.”

  “Why don’t we get her some water,” Marnie said after a minute. “I think she might be dehydrated.”

  “Which means she needs food,” Winnie said.

  “Fine, Winnie, she needs food,” Marnie said, rolling her eyes. “The answer to everything is food. You just have to be right. Why don’t you see if you can shove some food down her throat and really terrorize her?”

  “Why don’t you shut your mouth,” Winnie snapped back.

  “Why don’t you both shut your mouths,” I suggested. I glanced back at the little girl. “Do you want some food?”

  She nodded, her green eyes big.

  “What do you want?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Do you want a sandwich? How about some soup?”

  Still nothing.

  “How about some cookies?” Winnie suggested.

  The girl nodded enthusiastically.

  Winnie disappeared into the kitchen and returned two minutes later with a plate of fresh cookies and a glass of milk. The girl shoved two of them into her mouth at the same time and munched away happily.

  “She needs something more substantial than cookies,” Mom said.

  “We’re having roasted chicken, vegetables, potatoes and chocolate cake for dinner,” Marnie said. “I’m sure she can find something there that she likes.”

  “Do you think she’s still going to be here at dinner?” I asked.

  The girl stilled on my lap and stared up at me, worried.

  I realized my mistake almost immediately. “You can stay here as long as you want,” I said. “This is an inn. There are a lot of bedrooms, and there are a lot of people staying here. You’ll be safe.”

  The girl didn’t look convinced.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said. “I promise.”

  The girl finally started working her jaw again as she devoured the cookies. She wasn’t talking, but she was relaxing – if only a little. I’d take it, for now at least.

  “LOOK who I found out by the road selling wine.”

  Landon, his hand on the nape of Aunt Tillie’s neck as he dragged her with him, strode into the dining room with a dark look on his face.

  “We wondered where she was,” Bay said, giving Landon a quick kiss.

  Landon grabbed her neck long enough to deepen the kiss and then turned to everyone else. “Were you aware she was selling wine at a stand like it was lemonade?”

  “We knew she was going to do it,” I said. “We got distracted by … .” I lowered my eyes to the girl on my lap. She’d refused to move, and it had been more than an hour. I was going to have to figure out a way to extricate myself from her – and soon – because I really had to go to the bathroom.

  “I can’t believe she used the discovery of a hurt child to go behind our backs,” Winnie said.

  Landon cocked an eyebrow. “I share your outrage. It’s completely unlike her to use a distraction to get what she wants.” Landon let go of Aunt Tillie. “You stay right here,” he warned. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” Landon said. “It just means I can only focus on one thing at a time. A small child wandering down a country road is more of a concern for me than you illegally selling wine that could kill the liver of a healthy adult in five minutes flat. That doesn’t mean I’m just letting that go.”

  Aunt Tillie wrinkled her nose. “You’re on my list.”

  “Well, then it should be a fun weekend,” Landon said, moving slowly in my direction. It was obvious he was trying to approach the girl in the easiest way possible. “Hey, sunshine,” he said, smiling widely. “How are you?”

  The girl glanced up at me for support.

  “This is Landon,” I said. “He’s a FBI agent. He’s one of the good guys. He can help you.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Aunt Tillie said. “He’s trying to put me in jail. He’s a bad man.”

  Landon shot Aunt Tillie a look.

  “A very bad man,” Aunt Tillie said.

  The girl buried her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking. I hugged her gently, exchanging an apologetic look with Landon. “I think something bad happened to her.”

  “I’m going to lock you up and throw away the key,” Landon growled, scorching Aunt Tillie with a look. “You’re going to be sorry you ever met me.”

  “I GUESS it’s good you don’t have any guests until the weekend,” Chief Terry said as he settled in an open chair at the dining room table.

  “Yes, we love not having guests at the inn that pays our bills,” Aunt Tillie replied, moving her chicken around her plate distastefully. “I told you I wanted a pot roast tonight.”

  Everyone ignored her.

  “Try to eat some chicken,” I said, prodding the little girl. I’d finally managed to get her off my lap, and leave her long enough to go to the bathroom, but she’d attached herself to my hip the minute I returned to the room. I had a feeling, until we found out where she belonged, I was going to have to find a way to deal with my new shadow.

  She speared a piece of chicken with her fork and shoved it in her mouth. I watched, internally sighing as she returned her fork to the plate for more. She acted like she was starving, which made me wonder if she’d been mistreated. Other thoughts were dancing through my mind – and they were dark. I could only hope something truly awful hadn’t happened to her.

  “Is it good?” I asked
.

  The girl nodded.

  “You don’t have to lie,” Aunt Tillie said, leaning over so she could garner the girl’s full attention. “They’ll still give you cookies if you don’t like the chicken. Next time, tell them that you want a pot roast. When you’re really old, or really young, you get whatever you want by pitching a fit. That’s why it’s good to be us. I’ll show you how to get your own way later.”

  I thought the girl would be upset with Aunt Tillie’s suggestion, but instead she giggled. It was the first noise she’d made since we found her on the road. It was … heartwarming.

  Landon pursed his lips. “I’ll arrest you for corrupting a minor,” he said, forking some chicken into his own mouth. “You’re on my list.”

  “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Aunt Tillie said. She turned to Chief Terry. “So, what do we do to help our new friend?”

  I was surprised she seemed so keen on helping. This was the woman, after all, who had taken advantage of a horrible situation to make a quick buck.

  Chief Terry’s smile was warm and amiable as he directed it at the girl. He was clearly trying to send a message, and that message was that he was a good guy. “Well, first, I’m going to run her fingerprints,” he said. “I brought a portable scanner, and Landon says he can upload them into the system with his laptop.

  “Then, I was thinking we might want to take her to Dr. Williams and have her checked out,” he said. “He lives here in town, so it won’t be too traumatic.”

  The girl shook her head from side to side violently.

  “Or, we can have Dr. Williams come out here,” Chief Terry said, unruffled. “I just want to have that bump on your head checked out, sweetheart,” he said. “No one will hurt you.”

  “What then?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Chief Terry said. “I guess I need to see if I can get a social worker to come out here and … .” He broke off, conflicted.

  “Why can’t she just stay here?” Mom asked.

  “You’re not licensed to take in foster children,” Chief Terry pointed out.

  “So, we’ve raised children,” Marnie countered. “Some of them are even tolerable.”

  “She clearly just needs people to take care of her,” Winnie added.

  Sometimes I think they all need cats.

  Chief Terry was being pressed on three different sides. He still had one card to play, though. “What if someone dangerous is looking for her?”

  “Then that person will wish they’d never come into this house,” Aunt Tillie said, studying the girl thoughtfully. “Since she won’t speak, though, we have to give her a name.”

  “Do you have any ideas?” I asked.

  “I’m going to call her Basil,” Aunt Tillie said.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Basil?”

  “What? It’s a great name,” Aunt Tillie said.

  I shook my head and focused on Chief Terry. If we called her Basil long enough, maybe she would finally own up and tell us her real name. I knew I would. “Landon will be here, and Aunt Tillie is right, anyone who tries to come into this inn is going to be in for a rude awakening. Why can’t she just stay here?”

  Basil leaned forward, keenly interested as she waited for Chief Terry’s decision.

  “Fine,” he said, rubbing the side of his face. “I know when I’m outnumbered.”

  “Good,” Aunt Tillie said. She turned to Basil. “Are you ready for cake?”

  “You haven’t eaten your dinner yet,” Winnie protested. “Cake is for dessert. Don’t teach her bad habits.”

  Basil’s face fell.

  “Oh, fine,” Winnie said. “I can’t say no to that face. Who else wants cake?”

  “I’m going to really like having you around,” Aunt Tillie said. “We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

  That was … terrifying.

  Three

  I stumbled into the dining room the next morning, grumpy. Since Basil had fought me returning to the guesthouse to sleep, I’d reluctantly taken a room upstairs – and shared a bed with a child that didn’t stop tossing and turning the entire night. I’d finally passed out around four, and when I woke up, Basil was gone.

  Bay and Landon were sitting at the table when I entered.

  “You look awesome,” Bay said.

  I looked them up and down. They appeared well rested. Bay’s skin was glowing, and Landon’s smile was lazy and relaxed. It bugged me. “Why are you two so happy? I’m guessing you had the guesthouse to yourself all night.”

  “Clove spent the night out at the Dandridge,” Bay said. “It was like a mini vacation.”

  Winnie appeared from the kitchen with two plates in her hand. She slid them in front of Bay and Landon. For some reason, knowing they’d slept well really irritated me. “And what did you two do on your vacation?” I asked. I knew exactly what they’d done. I also knew Bay would die of embarrassment if her mother asked any pointed questions.

  “What vacation?” Winnie asked. “Your mom is bringing you out some eggs and pancakes in a second, Thistle.”

  “Thistle is just being grumpy,” Bay said, focusing on her plate.

  “I wonder why?” I said, my morning snark hitting high gear. “I had to share a bed with a kid who kicked me so many times my shins are going to be one big bruise. You two spent the night fornicating like teenagers.”

  Winnie pursed her lips. “What did you just say?”

  “They were on vacation,” I replied. “That’s what you do on vacation.”

  Bay’s cheeks were flushed, but Landon didn’t appear to be bothered in the least.

  “Do you think that’s funny?” Winnie asked.

  “I don’t,” I said. “I’m appalled at the lack of morality that occurred under my roof last night. Appalled, I tell you.”

  Landon smirked. “The only thing you’re upset about is that you had to spend the night away from Marcus so you couldn’t do the same thing.”

  Winnie smacked the back of Landon’s head. “That’s enough of that, young man.”

  Landon rubbed the back of his head. “What did I do?”

  “I think she’s sitting next to you,” I said.

  “I’m going to put you on my list with Aunt Tillie,” Landon warned.

  “Go ahead. I’m more afraid of her list than yours.”

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” Landon said, glancing at Bay. “You’re scared to be on my list, aren’t you?”

  Bay shook her head. “You’re a big marshmallow,” she said. “Aunt Tillie is the devil.”

  Landon sighed. “Marshmallow?”

  “I happen to love marshmallows,” Bay said.

  Landon rolled his eyes. “Speaking of Aunt Tillie, where is she?”

  That was a pretty good question.

  “I think she took Basil out to see the greenhouse,” Winnie said. “She’s taken a shine to her, and Basil seems to like her right back.”

  “Well, at least we know she’s safe with Aunt Tillie,” I said. “I keep hoping that, as long as we call her Basil, she’ll find the courage to start talking and tell us what her real name is.”

  “That would be helpful,” Landon agreed, snagging a slice of bacon from Bay’s plate. “Right now, we just have to wait for her to trust us. She’s not ready to tell us what happened. When she is, we’ll be here to listen. If we’re lucky, her fingerprints will hit.”

  “What if they don’t?” I asked.

  “Then we’ll have to try and get Basil to talk,” Landon said. “Why did Aunt Tillie pick that name, by the way?”

  “To bug me,” I grumbled.

  Landon waited.

  “I just found out yesterday that I was apparently supposed to be named Basil,” I explained. “I’m deeply traumatized by the whole thing.”

  Landon snorted. “Is Basil somehow worse than Thistle as a name?”

  “They both suck,” I said. “Basil is worse.”

  Landon looked to Bay for confirmation.

  “Basil is awful,” she
said. “Thistle always wished they would have named her Sage.”

  “That’s a cool name,” I said.

  “Thistle fits your personality better,” Landon said, finishing off his breakfast and getting to his feet. “I think we should find Aunt Tillie and Basil. I’m not crazy about them running wild all over the property.”

  “Aunt Tillie would never hurt Basil,” I said. “She likes her.”

  “Thistle is right,” Bay said. “Aunt Tillie was the first one to go to her. Thistle and I kind of froze in place. It was pretty impressive. She can move when she wants to.”

  “I’m not worried about Aunt Tillie hurting her,” Landon said. “I’m worried about Aunt Tillie taking her to the pot field.”

  Uh-oh. I hadn’t even thought of that. I got to my feet. “Yeah, let’s find them.”

  “OKAY, here’s what I want you to do,” Aunt Tillie said. “When you see a car, I want you to smile really wide, and then dance with this in your hand.”

  Basil’s green eyes were saucers as she took the wine bottle from Aunt Tillie.

  “Twirl around a lot,” Aunt Tillie said. “People can’t say no to a cute little girl. That’s why I always used Bay and Clove to sell stuff when they were little.”

  “Hey, what about me?”

  Aunt Tillie turned swiftly, fixing me with a hard look. We’d surprised her. She hadn’t heard us approaching. She was slipping. “You weren’t a cute child.”

  I scowled. “I was a very cute child.”

  “You looked like you were hit with the ugly stick a few too many times,” Aunt Tillie said. “You made up for it with a snarky personality. Don’t worry. You outgrew it.”

  Landon snatched the bottle of wine from Basil’s hand, causing her to shrink away from him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I … .”

  “Oh, good job, agent,” Aunt Tillie said. “You’ve terrified an already traumatized child. Way to protect and serve.”

  “That’s cops,” Landon growled.

  “Well, you’re not much of a cop,” Aunt Tillie said, focusing on the road. “Oh, here comes someone.” She handed Basil another bottle and pushed her forward. “Dance.”

  Basil glanced between Aunt Tillie and Landon, worried.