Witchy Dreams

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Can you see a name? Anything?”

  “I only see the sky – and the stars are going black.” With those words, Thistle fell to her knees in the circle.

  This time, I did make my way over to her side. Aunt Tillie didn’t argue. She stayed in her spot, though, and watched the two of us.

  “Are you all right?” I asked Thistle.

  “Yeah,” she rasped. “I wasn’t expecting that, though. I thought we would just get drunk to the point where we blacked out so we hopefully wouldn’t dream about the dancing.”

  “That would have been nice.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think there are two killers – although I think I already knew that,” I admitted. “I also think someone else is going to die, and we’re helpless to stop it.”

  Thistle bit her lower lip. “I think someone else has already died. We just haven’t found them yet.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I saw ... I don’t know what I saw. I saw a knife. I saw blood. And I heard a scream.”

  “Could you see a face? Could you see where?”

  “No, it was dark. I think it’s a girl, though. And I think she’s already gone.”

  Aunt Tillie had appeared at my side. I hadn’t even heard her approach. “We must reflect on what we’ve learned,” she said gravely.

  “Let me guess? That involves wine and dancing around a fire? That hardly seems appropriate now.”

  One guess who won the following argument?

  Thirteen

  “It gets worse every time.”

  I looked up from my spot on the couch, where I was laying with my legs draped over the edge and a cold compress on my forehead, and regarded Thistle seriously. “I can’t believe they still did it, especially after your vision. You’d think they’d be more worried about the fact that another body is about to be dropped on us – not that the rhythm is going to get them.”

  “It’s not like they could stop it,” Clove said.

  “It shouldn’t be celebrated either,” I shot back.

  “I thought it was cool.” Shane was perched on the arm of the chair where Thistle was sitting. He’d barely left her side since her vision. She couldn’t see his proximity, but she knew he was near.

  “You thought it was cool? Bras and Spanx were invented for a reason.” I shuddered involuntarily.

  “That was a little weird,” Shane acknowledged. “They had a strange sense of rhythm, though.”

  “How can they have rhythm when there’s no music?”

  “I heard music. In my head. Didn’t you?”

  “All I heard was the pounding of an impending migraine,” I said bitterly.

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I think it’s kind of fun when they do it,” Clove admonished me. She always was the one who talked big and then backtracked.

  “Then why don’t you join in?”

  Clove looked decidedly uncomfortable. “It’s more fun to watch than participate,” she said finally.

  “You just have a complex about your thighs,” Thistle laughed.

  “I do not.”

  “It’s fine,” Thistle said. “We all have big thighs. It’s a family thing.”

  “My thighs aren’t big,” I argued. “They’re just not little.”

  “We should work out more,” Thistle suggested.

  “We always say that.”

  “Then we always get distracted by the fresh cookies at the inn,” Clove giggled. “And the pies. And the cakes.”

  We all went to bed after that. I knew what we would all be dreaming about – and it wouldn’t be pleasant.

  When I woke the next morning, I wiped the sleep out of my eyes and stretched languidly. It took a full minute before the previous night’s events rushed me. Another body!

  I jumped out of bed and made my way into the kitchen. Clove was making coffee at the counter. She was still in her flannel pajama bottoms and tank top. There was no sign of Thistle.

  “She’s still asleep,” Clove said to my unasked question. “Last night took a lot out of her, I think.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” I climbed up onto one of the stools that we had placed on the other side of the kitchen counter and watched Clove as she filled the coffee machine mechanically.

  “You’re up early,” she said. “You think they’ll find a body today, don’t you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if I should be hoping for that or not. On one hand, I want to believe that no one else died. On the other hand, I doubt that Thistle is wrong, so it would be better if they find the body sooner – rather than later.”

  “For her family?”

  “For all of us.”

  Clove nodded understandingly. We both looked up when we heard Thistle’s bedroom door open. She staggered out into the living room – looking like I’m sure Clove and I both felt.

  “I didn’t sleep for shit,” she announced, running a hand through her tangled blue hair haphazardly.

  “I slept, but it wasn’t exactly well,” I said.

  “I only slept a few hours,” Clove said as she handed me a cup of coffee.

  Thistle perched on the stool next to me and accepted the cup of steaming liquid that Clove slid toward her.

  “Where’s Shane?” I looked around the guesthouse but didn’t see him.

  “We can only hear him, remember,” Thistle said grumpily. None of us were morning people. “How should we know?”

  “Don’t get snippy with me.”

  “I’m not getting snippy,” she said harshly, but then her expression softened. “I’m just tired.”

  “I think we’re all on edge ... waiting,” Clove said.

  That was definitely the truth.

  We lapsed into silence, the only sound occurring when one of us sipped from our cups. The silence was comfortable but strained. We all jumped when there was a loud rap on the door.

  Thistle glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was only 8:30 a.m. “This can’t be good.”

  I think we all knew what it was.

  I climbed off the stool, leaving my coffee on the counter, and moved to the door. I didn’t bother looking to see who it was. I knew, without being told, who stood on the other side of the aged oak.

  “Good morning, Chief Terry.” I greeted him somberly.

  The chief looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His gray hair was tangled and dirty. He entered the guesthouse, glancing around to see who was present. He greeted Thistle and Clove with a short nod. “Girls.”

  “Good morning, Chief Terry,” Clove greeted him. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  Chief Terry nodded blankly. “That sounds good.” He took the freshly poured cup that Clove offered him and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. He looked to us all expectantly.

  “You’re probably wondering why I’m here?”

  Not really.

  “There was another body found this morning,” he continued.

  “Where?”

  “The Johnson maze, just outside of town.”

  “Was it ... was it another teenager?” I knew the answer. I still had to ask the question.

  “Yes. It was a girl this time. Her name was Sophie Maxwell.”

  “You identified her already?”

  “The killer left her purse next to the body this time.”

  “Where is she from?”

  “Traverse City.”

  “Why are they taking kids from Traverse City and bringing them here?” Clove asked.

  If Chief Terry noticed that Clove said they instead of him, he didn’t acknowledge it. “I don’t know. That’s just one of a hundred questions that have to be answered, isn’t it?”

  “Was she …?” I broke off. I didn’t know how to phrase the next question.

  “She was stabbed, just like the other boy. And, yes, her heart was removed, too.” Chief Terry looked out the front window from his spot at the table. He had a clear view of the inn. Usually, he would have asked about my mom or one of my aun
ts early in the conversation. I didn’t think he had the energy. “The state boys say there are no signs of sexual assault, though, so at least that’s something.”

  Yes, a very small something. “Has her family been told?”

  “They’re doing that right now.”

  “Was she reported missing?”

  “Not to my knowledge. We don’t have any information on her movements yesterday, though.”

  “When did she die?”

  “We don’t have a time of death yet, but sometime last night seems to be the general consensus.”

  “They’re obviously putting the bodies in public places,” I said. “They want the bodies found right away.”

  “The state boys said they might call in federal help.”

  “Like profilers?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That might not be a bad idea.”

  “I’ll take any help I can get right now, not that I have any real control over the case.” Chief Terry sounded more tired than bitter, but I knew that having the case taken from him was probably driving him crazy.

  “They still don’t have any ideas why this is happening – and why it’s happening here?”

  “They have some ideas,” Chief Terry said grimly.

  “Like what?” Thistle asked.

  “They think that it’s happening because of how we rebranded the town,” he said quietly.

  “You mean, because we made it a witch town?” Clove looked incredulous. “Like we asked for it?”

  “More like someone here is trying to expand the brand of the town – in a real life way,” Chief Terry said.

  “That’s crazy! Why would we want to do that? This will kill the tourism trade for the entire season, not increase it.” Not that tourism really mattered in this situation.

  “That’s what I told them,” Chief Terry said. “I’m just one step up from Barney Fife to them, though, so they pretty much just disregard everything I say. They’re only keeping me in the loop because they have to.”

  “They’re never going to solve it if they keep looking at the town,” Thistle argued. “It’s not someone from the town.”

  “Are you sure of that?” Chief Terry looked at her probingly.

  “Aren’t you?”

  “No one wants to think of their neighbor as a murderer,” he said. “We can’t rule people out, though, just on a feeling.”

  Thistle didn’t look convinced.

  “I don’t believe it’s anyone from the town either,” he said. “But we have to look at everyone.”

  Chief Terry turned to me expectantly. “I was hoping you would come out to the maze with me?”

  “Me? Why?”

  Chief Terry hedged. “We all know your family is ... different. I just thought you might be able to see something that we didn’t.”

  Like a ghost?

  “Let me get dressed.” Chief Terry didn’t ask for help from outsiders very often. I couldn’t say no to him – not that I wanted to.

  I moved toward my bedroom. Clove was close on my heels. “Don’t talk to a ghost in front of them,” she warned in a low voice. “That will just cast suspicion on you. That may be what they’re fishing for.”

  “I don’t think Chief Terry would do that,” I argued.

  “I don’t think that Chief Terry has a clue what the state police are up to. Just be careful.”

  I’m always careful. Okay, I at least consider being careful before I jump into the deep end headfirst.

  Fourteen

  The ride to the maze was short – only about fifteen minutes – and it was spent mostly in silence. There really wasn’t a lot to say. If we talked about magic, Chief Terry would be uncomfortable. If we talked about the murders, I would be uncomfortable.

  When we turned onto the road that led to the Johnson farm, I could see the kaleidoscope of flashing lights that were illuminating the early morning sky about a mile down the road – at the entrance to the corn maze.

  The Johnson corn maze was the oldest in town – the first, so to speak. There were now a total of five, and most of the others were fancier, but there was something refreshing in the simplicity of the original.

  “There’s a lot of police here,” I breathed.

  “Double what we had the other day,” Chief Terry acknowledged. “This has made the national news. They say Nancy Grace is sending someone out.”

  Great. That was exactly what we didn’t need, a media frenzy.

  Chief Terry parked his cruiser next to the other vehicles. We both exited the vehicle in unison. I still wasn’t sure what he expected of me. I was just glad he’d thought to bring me out here. At least I wouldn’t have to sneak into this corn maze in the dark this time. Or, at least I hoped.

  Most of the chatter that greeted us was typical police talk. I saw a handful of people being questioned to the left side of the maze. They all looked understandably nervous. I turned to Chief Terry questioningly.

  “Workers,” he said simply. “They found the body. At least this time only one or two people had been in the maze before the body was found.”

  Thank the Goddess for small favors.

  I noticed another grouping of police officers positioned off to the right of the maze – and I was surprised to see who they were questioning. It was Landon and his cronies. What were they doing here?

  Chief Terry seemed surprised to see them, too. “They weren’t here when I left to come pick you up.”

  “I wonder what they’re doing here now.”

  “You think it’s suspicious?” Chief Terry was staring at me intently.

  “I think it’s weird that a bunch of biker guys keep showing up at corn mazes – especially ones that have dead bodies in them.”

  Chief Terry pursed his lips. “I think focusing on them might be a mistake.”

  “Why?” I looked at him suspiciously.

  “Do they seem like the type of guys who run around cutting people’s hearts out? Or the type of guys who would just plug a guy in the head if he crossed them? I think they’re bad guys, just not the bad guys we’re looking for in this case.”

  Good point. No sale.

  “You know something?”

  Chief Terry sighed. “I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you printing it in the paper – at least not yet.”

  “What?”

  “There’s something else going on in town, and I think our new friends are tied up in that, not in the murders.”

  “What?”

  “There’s been a new, um, business that’s entered Hemlock Cove over the past six months or so.”

  If I had to say ‘what’ one more time, I was going to scream.

  “It’s crystal meth.”

  “You’re kidding!” Never what you expect.

  “Drugs are a part of our culture now. You shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “This is Hemlock Cove, though,” I protested. “Not Detroit.”

  “Drugs can be anywhere. They’re not just a city thing. Heck, before you were born, your mom and aunts had a small pot field hidden in the woods that they thought no one knew about.”

  After last night’s conversation, I found that hard to swallow. Chief Terry must have read the disbelief on my face.

  “It’s true. It wasn’t big or anything. They tried to hide it behind their herb patch.”

  “They just busted us last night for smoking pot when we were teenagers,” I complained.

  “Well, that was a little hypocritical of them.”

  I couldn’t wait to tell Thistle and Clove about this new development. Then I felt a wave of disappointment in myself wash over me when I realized I was gleefully planning an ambush on my family – when we were about to go see the body of a dead teenage girl.

  “When did they get rid of it?” I asked despite my now open disgust with myself.

  “Before any of you were born. One day it was just gone. Maybe your Aunt Tillie found it?”

  Maybe she started it?

  I turned my
attention back to his meth comments. “Do you think that our new friends are behind the meth trade?”

  “I think that’s a fair assumption.”

  Something wasn’t adding up to me. “Is that why Landon was in your office the other day?”

  “I already told you, I was just asking him some questions,” Chief Terry snapped.

  Better avoid that line of conversation for the time being, I figured.

  “If you know it’s them, why aren’t you arresting them?”

  “I don’t know it’s them,” he said finally. “It’s an ongoing investigation. I just suspect it may be them.”

  Chief Terry now turned to me with a new warning on his lips. “Don’t get involved in this. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Why would I get involved?”

  “Just ... just stay away from Landon. He’s bad news.”

  “Why would I be hanging around with Landon?”

  Chief Terry looked at me knowingly. I felt myself blushing under his gaze. “I’m not into Landon,” I said hurriedly.

  “See it stays that way.”

  Chief Terry flashed his badge and led me into the corn maze. I cast a look back in Landon’s direction and found him watching me. The gaze he cast on me was reflective and thoughtful. Could he really be dealing meth? Something told me there was more to this story. Either Chief Terry didn’t know everything, or he was holding something back. It could be both of those scenarios, too. If I had to guess, that was the most likely option.

  I followed Chief Terry into the maze. He seemed to know where he was going. About five minutes in, he took a hard left and led me to a central clearing. There were about ten more police officers steadily working here.

  I had to catch my breath when I saw the body strung up on another cross in the center of the clearing.

  “Another cross,” I murmured.

  “Yeah.”

  The girl had long blonde hair, but the ends of it seemed to be dyed another color. I realized, all too quickly, that they weren’t dyed another color. They were stained with blood.

  I couldn’t see her face because there was another garish mask on the body. I turned to Chief Terry in surprise. “I thought they would have taken the body by now.”

  “They’re still getting photos,” he said. “They’ll cut her down shortly.”