Witchy Dreams

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Only if you have a perverted mind,” she answered, her eyes dark. “I didn’t tell you this because I enjoy gossip. I do, mind you, but this isn’t really gossip. I’m simply telling you that what you see as a secret may well be a complicated relationship. The Winchesters are all about complicated relationships.”

  She had a point. I felt guilty for prying. “I’m sorry for asking about them. It’s just … I can’t help being curious. They’re all so colorful.”

  Mrs. Gunderson chuckled. “They’re definitely colorful.”

  “Earlier today Thistle and Bay practically wrestled Tillie down on the sidewalk because she was going after some woman named Mrs. Little. It was like watching a television show.”

  Mrs. Gunderson’s smile was bright enough to light the entire bakery. “Yes, well, they should’ve let Tillie do whatever she wanted to that harlot.”

  I tried to swallow my smile … and failed. It seemed Mrs. Gunderson had a few secrets of her own, and hating Margaret Little was one of them. “I’m sorry for being gossipy. I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this town.”

  “It takes some getting used to.” Mrs. Gunderson got to her feet. “Don’t assume the Winchesters are hiding something big. They thrive on fighting about small things, too.”

  “I’ve noticed that.” Impulsively I reached out and gripped Mrs. Gunderson’s free hand. “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Gunderson opened her mouth to respond and then snapped it shut when I gasped. My senses kicked into overdrive as a series of visions filled my head. Then I heard the screaming – oh, it was terrible! – and I fought to remain conscious as the scenes sped through my brain like a movie playing on fast-forward.

  I saw Bay fall in a hole and Landon scream for her. I saw Mrs. Gunderson crying as she talked to Tillie. I saw Landon’s terrified face as he tried to protect Bay with his body from … something I couldn’t quite identify. I saw a terrible white mist congealing into the form of a man and advancing on Bay.

  All the while I heard screaming … and then it was replaced with something else.

  I’m coming for you, Floyd!

  I jerked my hand back, my heart hammering as my fingers shook. Mrs. Gunderson’s face flooded with concern as she leaned closer. She clearly hadn’t seen the images in my head, but she’d lived through at least some of them.

  “Are you okay?”

  I struggled to find my tongue, and when I did, my voice cracked as I responded. “I’m fine. Thank you. I should probably get over to the newspaper so I can go through those archives.”

  “Yes … well … are you sure you’re okay?” Mrs. Gunderson didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m fine,” I forced out, my stomach twisting. “I just drank too much caffeine today. I’m feeling a little jittery.”

  I often felt jittery after being overwhelmed by a vision. This vision, though, was more powerful than any other. I wasn’t expecting it either. I didn’t seek it out. It came to me at a time when my mind and heart were open.

  What the heck is going on in Hemlock Cove?

  Ten

  Bay didn’t seem surprised to see me when I walked through the front door of the newspaper office, which appeared to be empty save for her.

  “I was hoping to go through the archives if it’s not a bother,” I said sheepishly. “We want to see if you ever ran anything about animal attacks in the past, maybe see if we can find common locations, things like that.”

  “That makes sense.” Bay’s smile was light and airy as she gestured for me to follow her down a short hallway. “You’ll find that we don’t have archives like newspapers in big cities do, which is both a blessing and a curse depending on which way you look at things.” She pointed to a row of file cabinets against the far wall. “Help yourself. I just ask that you file everything back the way it was when you’re done.”

  The tall file cabinets looked daunting but I was determined to make an effort. “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem.” Bay turned to leave before I could question her further – which is what I really wanted – but I hurriedly grabbed her hand, hoping to have another psychic flash like the one I experienced in the bakery. It worked, but not in the way I expected.

  I blinked rapidly, a series of frantic pictures shifting through my brain. I saw a small blond girl bullied by a dark-haired girl and then the same blonde laughing with two other girls who were clearly Thistle and Clove. The final image was of a blond girl, this time lonely as she stood in the center of a cemetery. She seemed upset, even a little lost, and then Terry Davenport wandered up to her and they began chatting. There was nothing else. No danger … or fear … or terrible screams.

  I released Bay’s hand, forcing a smile and hoping she didn’t realize I’d been trying to invade her mind. My psychic flashes were hard to control. I’d been hoping to see more about the white mist monster I saw the brief flash of when I touched Mrs. Gunderson’s hand. It wasn’t there, though.

  “I want to thank you for your hospitality,” I offered, hoping I sounded sincere. “Your family has been wonderful to us.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive I saw something flash in the depths of Bay’s eyes. It was recognition, but it was gone before I could spend too much time focusing on it.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Bay said, her tone cheery. “I understand that you have a job to do. It’s not an easy one given what you’re investigating. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “You, too.”

  I SPENT hours going through the archives and came up with only a handful of articles even remotely interesting. When it was time to leave, Bay offered me a ride with her and Landon – which I initially declined and said I would call a cab to get back to the inn because I was desperate not to inconvenience her. She laughed and pointed out Hemlock Cove didn’t have cabs, so my only choice was to track down Jack for a ride or go with her. I opted to go with her.

  “Landon is picking us up in the parking lot,” Bay offered, locking the door and causing me to cock an eyebrow. “Is something wrong? Did you forget something?”

  “No, it’s just … isn’t someone else in there?”

  Bay shook her head. “It was just us all afternoon. No one else was in the building.”

  “I swear I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

  “No.”

  “You called her Viola.”

  This time I was positive that the expression flitting across Bay’s face was something to worry about. She looked both pensive and curious. “I was on the phone briefly with Clove,” she said, and I got the distinct impression she was making it up as she went along. “That’s probably what you heard.”

  “Probably.” I didn’t believe that for a second, but I could hardly call her a liar.

  Bay hurried down the steps and headed straight for Landon’s Ford Explorer. He hopped out of the vehicle when he saw me, curious, but he went straight to Bay and offered her a hug. “Charlie went through our archives all afternoon,” Bay offered. “She was looking for stories on animal attacks.”

  “That sounds like a boring way to spend an afternoon,” Landon noted.

  “We’re giving her a ride back to the inn,” Bay added.

  “That’s fine.” Landon opened the back door of the Explorer for me and gestured. “Climb in.”

  I immediately reached for the seatbelt when settled, taking a moment to watch Bay and Landon through the window. They didn’t speak, but they said a lot with their expressions. Landon’s jaw was tight when he leaned forward to press a kiss to Bay’s mouth, something unspoken passing between them. They were both friendly and calm when they climbed into the Explorer.

  “Did you find anything in the archives?” Landon asked, firing up the vehicle and directing it toward the main road.

  “I found a few stories of wild bear attacks and some others where people claimed to see the Dog Man,” I replied. They seemed relaxed, Landon using his right hand to hold Bay’s left, rubbing idle circles on
top of her knuckles. I could sense a bit of unease between them, although it wasn’t overwhelming. “There was nothing in there to explain the most recent attack, though.”

  Landon appeared surprised by the statement. “Did you think there would be?”

  I shrugged. “Legends survive through decades – centuries even – for a reason,” I answered. “Don’t you ever wonder how some legends start? For example, I was going through the archives and at first I didn’t see anything about the Dog Man or similar creatures, but there was plenty about witches.”

  “Witches, huh?” Landon kept his eyes facing forward. “What did it say about witches?”

  “Just that there was supposedly a coven around these parts and that people believe some lines still survive today. Of course, that article was written by someone named Edith in the sixties, so you have to take that with a grain of salt. That was a long time ago.”

  “That’s the legend Hemlock Cove was founded on,” Bay said softly.

  “I … oh. That hadn’t even occurred to me.” I leaned forward. “So you know the story about the witches, huh?”

  Bay nodded. “There have been stories about witches in these parts since long before I was born. When the Walkerville council members decided to focus the town’s future on tourism they thought they’d take advantage of the history and build from there,” Bay explained, smiling. “It wasn’t as hard as you might expect to take those legends and run with them.”

  “And the town has definitely run with them,” Landon added with a chuckle. “When I first started spending time here all I heard about was witches.”

  “It obviously worked for you guys, though,” I pointed out. “Hemlock Cove seems to be thriving.”

  “The town does pretty well,” Bay confirmed. “Most of the inns sell out throughout the spring, fall and summer. There are some small gaps in the winter. My mother and aunts do robust business throughout the year. They’re never hurting for guests.”

  “And your father?” The question was out of my mouth before I thought better about asking it. That’s a common practice for me.

  Bay stiffened and Landon slid a worried look in her direction.

  “The Dragonfly does fine, too,” Bay replied, her tone clipped. That was as far as she planned to take it, which was a relief. But Landon was the exact opposite.

  “How do you know about Bay’s father?” Landon asked. “Have you been asking around about her?”

  “Oh, I was at the bakery this afternoon and I spent some time talking to Mrs. Gunderson,” I admitted, squirming. “She mentioned that Bay was close to the police chief and said he was kind of like her father, even though she had a father who left town when she was younger and recently came back to open his own inn.”

  Did I mention that I babble when I’m nervous?

  “It seems you and Mrs. Gunderson had quite the talk.” Bay mustered a nervous laugh. “All of the inns in the area do well.”

  “Yes, well … um … I’m sorry if you think I was invading your privacy,” I offered lamely.

  “It’s fine.” Bay waved off the apology with minimal effort.

  “It’s not fine,” Landon corrected. “Why are you chasing stories about Bay when you’re looking for Bigfoot?”

  “I … wasn’t chasing around stories about Bay,” I protested.

  “You were obviously doing something,” Landon countered. “I doubt the story about her father just came up. Mrs. Gunderson isn’t gossipy about anyone not in her age bracket.”

  “I’m sorry.” My voice ratcheted up a notch. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You didn’t upset me,” Bay assured me quickly. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine, Bay,” Landon growled, his eyes in the rearview mirror now narrowed. “She has no reason to poke her nose into your business.”

  “She was merely asking questions,” Bay shot back. “It’s fine. Don’t worry, Charlie. I ask questions for a living. It’s not a big deal.”

  Bay said the words, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she really meant them. Thankfully I didn’t have long to dwell on the conundrum before Landon pulled up in front of The Overlook. I was eager to escape the couple’s thoughtful and weighted looks.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I bolted from the Explorer and hurried to the inn as fast as I could, sucking in huge mouthfuls of oxygen to calm myself once on the other side of the lobby’s front door. I’d clearly stepped in it. I couldn’t blame them for being angry. I’d be upset if someone poked into my background, too. I couldn’t shake the niggling worry that they were upset about something else, though. It wasn’t just that I found out about Bay’s father. It was that I asked questions at all. I was almost sure that was the case.

  I didn’t have long to fixate on my thoughts, because the sound of raised voices in the dining room caught my attention. I scampered in that direction, thankful to have a reason to put distance between the door Landon and Bay would walk through at any moment and me. When I hit the dining room, I found a fascinating sight.

  Tillie stood on her chair at the end of the table, a glass of wine in her hand. She looked almost regal as she stared down at the other members of my group.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, breathless.

  Jack spared a glance for me. “I’ve been trying to text you. Do you ever answer your phone?”

  “I … um … had it on. At least I think I did.” I dug in my pocket and when I retrieved my phone I found it was turned off. “Oh, sorry. I thought I had it on.”

  “I’ve been worried,” Jack snapped. “I thought you needed a ride back to town, but when you didn’t answer my texts … .” He broke off, perhaps realizing how ludicrous the statement sounded given the size of Hemlock Cove. I was hardly going to wander off and get lost in the crowd or be attacked by gangbangers by wandering to the wrong side of town.

  “Landon and Bay gave me a ride back.”

  “Great. I guess.” Jack squared his shoulders.

  He was acting odd even for Jack. “What’s going on here?” I gestured toward Tillie. “She seems … upset.”

  “She’s off her rocker,” Laura snapped, her eyes flashing as she stared down the rambunctious Winchester matriarch. “She’s crazy. There can be no other explanation.”

  I wasn’t ruling out Tillie mental state, but something told me Laura had instigated this incident. “What did you do?”

  “Me?” Laura was incredulous. “How could you possibly think that I had anything to do with it? She’s crazy!”

  “I shall call down the thunder and smite you,” Tillie intoned, her voice deepening to almost comical proportions.

  “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?” Landon asked, strolling into the dining room with Bay close at his side.

  “I’m cursing the wanton woman so she will have nothing but unhappiness for the rest of her life,” Tillie replied, never moving her gaze from Laura’s face.

  “Great. While you’re at it, make Bay smell like bacon for me,” Landon suggested, reaching for one of the bottles of wine at the center of the table. “Don’t forget to make her taste like bacon, too.”

  Jack snickered at Landon’s calm demeanor, amused at what clearly had to be a family joke. “You put in curse requests? Does she do this often?”

  “At least three times a week,” Landon replied. “The bacon curse is my favorite.” He handed the bottle of wine to Bay and smiled. “Can you please open that for me, sweetie? I think I’m going to need to get drunk to get through the night.”

  Bay wordlessly nodded, flicking a worried look at Aunt Tillie before heading to the buffet for a corkscrew.

  “And, you,” Landon said, swiveling back to Tillie. “Who are you threatening?”

  “The wanton woman,” Tillie replied, her voice positively dripping with fake dramatic flair.

  “You’ll have to be more specific,” Landon prodded. “Which woman is wanton today? I don’t see Thistle, so she can’t be in the line of fire. I guess that means you’re talkin
g about one of those three, huh?” He gestured toward Hannah, Laura and me.

  Tillie nodded. “That one,” she hissed, pointing at Laura. “She’s on my list.”

  “She keeps saying that,” Laura whined. “I have no idea what list she’s talking about or why it’s so bad to be on it.”

  “Oh, you definitely don’t want to be on it,” Landon wagged his head while taking an empty wine glass from the table.

  “Definitely,” Bay echoed.

  “If you’re already on it, though, that might be good news for the rest of us,” Landon added. “If Aunt Tillie is focused on you she can’t torture the rest of the world. Maybe you should consider staying on her list.”

  “I’m an excellent multi-tasker,” Tillie sniffed. “I can curse more than one person at a time.”

  “Just remember bacon,” Landon whispered, grinning before he shifted his blue eyes to Laura. “What did you do to her?”

  “I didn’t do anything to her!”

  “Tillie was telling us a story about the time she wrestled Bigfoot and won. Laura said it was a crock of crap, and things pretty much fell apart from there,” Bernard offered from the opposite end of the table. He seemed to be enjoying the show. “Then Tillie started talking about her list, and Laura said she was making stuff up as she went along. That brought out more talk of the list. I’m honestly dying to see how this ends.”

  “You and me both.” Jack grinned. “Do you have any suggestions about how we should handle this, Agent Michaels?”

  Landon nodded as Bay returned with the bottle of wine and the two settled into chairs at the table. “I do. Abandon Laura to her fate and try to stay off the list for the rest of your stay here.”

  Everyone but Laura chuckled.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Laura asked, her eyes flashing. It was as if she couldn’t believe Landon wasn’t running over to rescue her.

  “It means you’re in trouble,” Tillie replied. “You’ll be sorry you ever met me before this is all said and done.”