TWO HOURS LATER our original argument about who was allowed to go where and why was behind us. We headed into town for lunch. It didn’t occur to me until we were in the rental vehicle following Thistle’s car that the Winchesters had managed to completely avoid the question about what they were doing at the site.
“Do you think it’s weird that they won’t tell us what they were doing out there?” I asked Millie as she parked in front of the diner. “They completely evaded that question … and they did it fairly easily.”
Millie shrugged, seemingly unperturbed. “Does it really matter what they were doing out there? They didn’t hurt anything or anyone.”
It was a fair question, and yet … . “It matters to me.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you,” Millie said. “We have no jurisdiction to close down that site and I have no idea who owns the property. Maybe we can track the owner and have him close it off to curiosity seekers. But that wouldn’t stop law enforcement.”
“Odds are that Sam Cornell owns that land,” I added. “He’d be more willing to shut it down to us than them.”
“And Sam is the short one’s boyfriend, right?”
I nodded. “Clove.”
“I can’t keep them straight,” Millie muttered, pocketing the keys and moving to the front of the vehicle. “They’re named after herbs, for crying out loud.”
Huh. I hadn’t even put that together. “I wonder why.”
“Why they’re named after herbs?” Millie shrugged, making an exaggerated face as she stepped onto the curb. “You’ll have to ask their mothers. There probably was some drinking involved. From what I understand, Tillie makes her own wine, and it’s strong enough to knock you on your rear end.”
I’d witnessed the power of the wine the night we caught them dancing under the full moon, but figured it was wise to keep that story to myself … at least for now. “I’m still curious about what they were doing out there. It doesn’t seem normal.”
“What’s normal?” Millie challenged, leaning her elbows on the hood of the sport-utility vehicle. “Are you normal? Am I normal?”
“You’re definitely not normal.”
Millie grinned. “Neither are you,” she said. “The Winchesters definitely aren’t normal either, and I doubt very much they’d declare themselves as such. The thing is, who decides what’s normal? I was raised during a time when girls were expected to act a certain way. I refused to follow protocol. Look at me now!”
I couldn’t help but smile at the wacky woman and her strong personality. “I think you turned out just fine.”
“And I think you turned out just fine,” Millie said. “I imagine that it’s hard for you. You probably have a lot of questions regarding what happened to your birth parents. You probably want to know why they gave you up for adoption, right?”
“They didn’t give me up for adoption,” I corrected. “They abandoned me.”
“Do you remember that?”
I shook my head. “I don’t remember anything about that time. I don’t remember being in the fire station either.”
“Weren’t you old enough to have a few memories?” Millie didn’t sound accusatory, merely intrigued. I wasn’t bothered by her questions. They’d plagued me for years and I’d asked them of myself many times.
“You would think so, but I don’t.”
“Which means you were probably traumatized by something,” Millie mused, shaking her head. “Either way, it would be only natural for someone in your position to ask ‘why me’ and then dwell on it. You might think it’s because you were abnormal in some way. Perhaps you even strived to be ‘normal’ as you were growing up. It’s a mistake to focus on that now.”
“I’m not interested in being normal.” That was mostly true. I was fine being who I was born to be. That didn’t stop me from keeping some very big secrets. I felt I had to, although I had no memories propelling me to that determination. “I just think there’s something really off about the Winchesters. I can’t help it.”
“There is something off about them,” Millie confirmed. “I still like them. Whatever they’re keeping secret, I doubt very much it has to do with Penny Schilling. I also doubt very much that it’s our business.”
“I get what you’re saying. You’re not the first person to say it,” I said. “Jack basically said the same thing. It’s just … they fascinate and frustrate me at the same time. I feel that they’re keeping something from me. We’re here investigating the death of a young woman, so it’s hard for me to shove the feelings aside.”
“Fair enough.” Millie bobbed her head. “The odds of them having something to do with this woman’s death are extremely slim, though. What’s their motive?”
I shrugged. “They don’t have one.”
“So why are you so suspicious?”
“If I could answer that question I probably wouldn’t be so fixated on them.”
“I think your problem is that you want control,” Millie supplied. “You didn’t have control when your parents left you at the fire station. You didn’t have control when your adopted parents died. You don’t have control now because you’re the newest employee and still learning the ropes. You want control of something … and that something is apparently the Winchesters’ secret.”
“Aren’t you curious?”
Millie shook her head. “None of my business,” she replied. “If I thought they were a danger to others or even themselves I might worry. They’re not. They’re an extremely codependent and crazy family. They admit their faults and don’t run from fights. I find that refreshing.”
“I guess you’re right.” I heaved a sigh. “Why don’t you go inside and find us a table. I want to take a minute to myself to get my head back in the game. All of that advice you gave us at the site made me loopy.”
Millie’s grin was impish, shaving a good twenty years from her face. “Use that advice, girl. It will get you far in life.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said dryly. Millie’s advice was more prone to give me nightmares than inspiration, but I didn’t tell her that for fear I would hurt her feelings.
I watched Millie walk inside, taking advantage of the quiet moment to suck in a few deep breaths and exhale slowly. Millie was right, yet I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if the Winchesters’ secret would lead me to answers regarding Penny Schilling’s death. I had no idea why I believed that possible. I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that washed over me whenever I gave real thought to the Winchesters and their hijinks.
I was so lost in thought – disappointment with myself growing with each treacherous thought regarding the Winchesters – that I almost didn’t notice the man standing at the other end of the sidewalk. I let my eyes drift in that direction and almost jolted when I locked gazes with a familiar face.
It took me a few moments to place the man, and when I did my stomach twisted. He made no effort to hide the fact that he was staring. We were the only two people on the street – everyone else already inside to enjoy lunch – so I couldn’t help but feel exposed.
Shane Norman remained rooted to his spot. He practically dared me to say something in the way he glared. I took a step toward the diner instead, happy to increase the distance between us. I blindly reached for the door handle, not making contact. I felt a brief flare of power in my head and then the door handle hit my fingers. I made the door open with my powers. I couldn’t manage the energy to care, though. Shane Norman’s dark presence was enough to completely unnerve me.
And then things got worse.
“How did you do that?”
I jerked my head in the direction of the voice and found Bay staring at me. “Do what?” I asked, my mouth dry.
“Open the door like that.”
“I … what?” I was legitimately confused, but I was also caught. I knew what Bay was asking, and found myself desperate to buy time to think of a convincing answer.
“The door,” Bay prodded. “It kind of fle
w open. I thought it was the wind, but … there’s no wind.”
“I … um … have no idea what you’re talking about.” I’m not a very good liar, but I hoped Bay would drop it. She didn’t.
“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were a witch,” Bay teased, smiling. “Is there something I should know? Maybe you want to move to Hemlock Cove and join the coven, huh?”
Uh-oh. Could this day get any worse?
23
Twenty-Three
“Witch?” The word felt alien on my tongue. I couldn’t stop from laughing. “I guess everyone in Hemlock Cove has witches on the brain, huh?”
“Some more than others,” Bay replied, furrowing her brow. “How did you open the door?”
“I grabbed the handle. That’s how I normally open a door.”
“But … I would’ve seen your arm if that was the case,” Bay argued. “I didn’t see your arm.”
“Maybe it was invisible.” I offered a nervous chuckle and licked my lips. “Do you have any witches in town who can make themselves invisible?”
“Not that I know of.” Bay was calm, but I could practically see her mind working. She was suspicious of my answers and dubious mannerisms, which was mildly hilarious given the fact that I’d spent the better part of two days grappling with wild thoughts about her family.
I decided to change the subject. “Do you know that man?” I inclined my head in the direction of Shane Norman.
Bay reluctantly dragged her gaze from my face and frowned when she saw him. “Yes. He works at the resort.”
“I saw him there.” I kept my voice low. “He works in the purchasing department. He was one of Penny Schilling’s boyfriends.”
“I know.” Bay rubbed the back of her neck. “I wonder what he’s doing in Hemlock Cove. I don’t believe he lives here. I think he’s from Bellaire, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I know Landon talked to him the day we visited the resort.”
“Did Landon happen to mention what he said?”
Bay shook her head. “I don’t recall.”
“And even if you did recall you wouldn’t tell me, because I’m not a cop, right?”
Bay shrugged, refusing to bow down to the guilt trip I was trying to lay on her. “Probably not. Landon tells me a lot of things that aren’t for public consumption. It hardly matters in this case. He didn’t mention anything about his talk with Shane Norman.”
“So why is he here?”
“That’s a very good question.” Bay moved closer to me, never removing her eyes from Shane. Finally, as if deciding after a lot of thought that he didn’t want to deal with two of us, Shane turned and entered the shop closest to him.
“Should we follow him?” I asked, my heart rate increasing.
“Why?” Bay’s expression was unreadable as she searched my face. “Do you think he’s guilty?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, opting for honesty. “I’m leaning toward Bigfoot after what I saw in the woods last night. Still … he was staring at me. It gave me the creeps.”
Bay opened her mouth to say something, but I immediately started shaking my head to cut her off.
“No, I don’t mean the witch creeps,” I added. “I mean the general creeps. He was staring at me.”
“Did he see you the day you were at the resort?”
“I think so,” I said. “I made eye contact with him at one point when we were walking around the loading dock. It was brief. I don’t see how he could know who I was or why I was there.”
“Gossip travels fast,” Bay replied.
“Do you know what store he went into?”
Bay nodded. “It’s The Unicorn Emporium.”
“He doesn’t seem like the porcelain unicorn type to me.”
“Me either.” Bay chewed her lip, distracted. “That’s Mrs. Little’s store.”
“The same Mrs. Little your great-aunt keeps stalking?”
“Yup.”
“Can you think of any reason Shane Norman and Mrs. Little would spend time together?”
“Not off the top of my head,” Bay answered, “but there’s no harm in checking things out for ourselves. Let’s see what they’re doing.”
I figured Bay would attempt to spy in stealth mode, maybe go around the back of the store and sneak in through another door so we could hide behind racks of goods and eavesdrop. What? I watch a lot of spy shows. Instead she shoved open the front door of The Unicorn Emporium and strolled inside as if she was part owner.
“Bay.” Mrs. Little, her hair pulled back in a prim and proper bun, stiffly nodded her head when she caught sight of the blonde. She didn’t so much as acknowledge me.
“Mrs. Little.” Bay’s greeting was equally cold as she scanned the store, her eyes falling on Shane Norman as he perused a display on the far side of the small boutique. Instead of approaching him, Bay shuffled toward the counter. “I thought I’d check in and see how things are going. How are they? I mean … how are things going?”
I hid a half-smile behind my hand. Even though she was outwardly cool on most occasions, Bay tended to fall into spaz mode now and then. This happened to be one of those times.
“Things will be fine, Bay.” Mrs. Little’s tone was clipped. “If that’s all … .”
“That’s not all.” Bay’s eyes moved back to Shane. “Have you heard about the body found behind the Dandridge?”
I jerked my head in her direction, surprised. I had no idea where she was going with this line of conversation, but I was fascinated. I risked a glance at Shane Norman and found his back to us. He continued to stare at the unicorns, but I was fairly certain his shoulders had stiffened in response to Bay’s question.
“I did hear about that,” Mrs. Little confirmed, squinting a bit as she watched Bay. “Why are you telling me? I didn’t kill her.”
“I didn’t think you did,” Bay supplied. “Chief Terry and Landon are investigating. We want to make sure that everyone is very careful right now given the new … evidence … that they discovered.”
“What evidence?” Mrs. Little no longer looked annoyed. “Is the murderer a Hemlock Cove resident? I thought Bigfoot did it.”
“I’m not at liberty to talk about the evidence,” Bay cautioned. “Just make sure you’re never alone, especially after dark, and that you have someone to walk you to your car.”
“I … um … okay.” Mrs. Little looked flustered. “Thank you for the warning.”
“You’re welcome.” Bay kept her eyes on Shane Norman as she walked out of the store and stood on the sidewalk in front of the display window. I found her little act baffling more than enlightening.
“What was that?”
“I want to see what he’ll do.” Bay crossed her arms over her chest. “More importantly, I want to see if he talks to Mrs. Little.”
“But … why?”
“Because she’s had her pudgy little fingers in some very unsavory pots over the years,” Bay answered. “I doubt very much she has any ties to Shane Norman. I want to be sure, though.”
“And if she is tied to him?”
“That explains why he’s in town.”
“And if she’s not?”
“Then he’s here for another reason,” Bay replied, leaning against the nearest sidewalk bench and narrowing her eyes as Shane shuffled toward another display shelf. “Whatever reason he suddenly came to town can’t be good. Something’s going on here.”
I couldn’t agree more.
AFTER THIRTY minutes of looking at unicorn statues, Shane Norman made his escape from the store. He didn’t glance in Mrs. Little’s direction the entire time, and she seemed distracted by Bay’s gossipy tidbit, so we headed back toward the diner relatively certain that they weren’t in cahoots. I was less certain about Bay. She seemed to be playing a game that I didn’t fully understand the rules of, so I was constantly behind.
By the time we hit the diner, Landon and Chief Davenport had joined our small group. Landon looked relieved when he caught sight of
Bay and he stood to make sure he got her attention.
“I saved you a seat, sweetie.”
Bay studied him a moment, her eyes flat. “I’m pretty sure I’m still angry with you.”
“Bay,” Landon cajoled, tilting his head to the side. “I said I was sorry. You know darned well I didn’t mean that how it came out.”
I risked a glance at her and didn’t miss the way her lips curled at his reaction. “You already forgave him, didn’t you?”
Bay shrugged. “It’s hard to stay angry with him. He has a good heart.”
“And he loves you.”
Bay’s smile was serene. “He does. I don’t forgive him simply because I love him, though. I forgive him because intentions are as important as outcomes.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that he wouldn’t purposely hurt me for anything,” Bay replied. “Sure, we tease each other, but he would take a bullet rather than hurt my feelings. Heck, he has taken a bullet for me. His intentions are always good.”
I found the conversational shift curious. “Are your intentions always good?”
“For the most part. I won’t deny I’ve had mayhem on the brain a few times over the years and acted out with bad intention. That was mostly during my teenage years. I hope I’ve grown out of that.”
“What were your intentions today?”
Bay seemed surprised by the question. “They weren’t bad, if that’s what you’re worried about. I was simply trying to get a read on Shane Norman.”
“Because you think he’s a killer?”
“We don’t have nearly enough information to call him a killer.” Bay took advantage of the lull in conversation sit between Landon and the chief. She greeted Chief Davenport with a hand on his shoulder and allowed Landon to lean close enough to whisper. Whatever he said amused her, because she laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He returned the show of affection by planting a loud kiss on her lips. It appeared that all was forgiven.
I sat between Millie and Thistle, grabbing a menu after getting comfortable, and letting the conversation wash over me as I rewound the day’s events. Nothing in Hemlock Cove was at it seemed, and that included the Winchesters and my own team. I was in an awkward position. I was the only one who didn’t have anyone to trust. I instinctively trusted Millie, of course, but I didn’t know her well enough to share my biggest secrets. I was hopeful that one day I’d find loyalty in the group, but I was nowhere near that point yet.
The Bigfoot Blunder (A Charlie Rhodes Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 21