Witchy Dreams

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I see.” That was extremely interesting. “Do you think he was an alcoholic?”

  “I think that we don’t use that word around here because we have a lot of recreational drinkers. It is an island, after all. Still, most people manage to understand that you work first and play second. Mark never understood that.”

  “Do you know where he was working?”

  “No, I honestly don’t,” Gullikson said. “There comes a point where you want to help, but it’s like beating your head against a wall, so you’re doing more harm to yourself than help for the other person. That’s where I got with Mark.”

  “At least you tried to help.” I mustered a wan smile. “Well, thank you for your time.” I turned to leave, but Gullikson stopped me by clearing his throat.

  “Do you know how Mark died?”

  “There are conflicting reports.” That wasn’t a lie. I was conflicted and wasn’t sure I believed May Potter’s report. Still, I felt a bit guilty for saying it.

  “It doesn’t matter. The truth will spread by the end of the day, and the gossip and innuendo won’t be far behind.”

  That sounded downright terrible. “Thank you for talking to me.”

  “Don’t mention it. If you ever want to change something at the lighthouse, don’t hesitate to give me a call. Like I said, I’ve been dying to get my hands on that place for years.”

  “I’ll definitely do that.”

  Fifteen

  I hit the grocery store next, cursing myself because I had no way to get a bunch of groceries home. That meant I had to be prudent when choosing, ultimately grabbing fresh fruit, meat for the grill and a pre-made pasta salad. I topped it off with ears of corn, butter and condiments, and then headed for the lighthouse.

  Despite my best efforts, my arms felt like mush by the time I hit home. I really thought there was a chance one of my arms would fly out of the socket.

  Booker caught sight of me from the second-floor window as I approached and scampered outside to help. At first I thought it was because he was gallant. Ultimately I realized it was because he thought I’d brought snacks.

  “No chips?” Booker’s expression reflected outright disappointment. “Remind me not to do work here again. This is a very disappointing collection.”

  I rested my bags on the picnic table close to where Booker worked and murdered him with a dark look. “I can only carry so much.”

  “Then you should’ve rented a cart to get your stuff home.”

  “I didn’t know that was an option.” Crap. That would’ve made the past twenty minutes so much easier. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that was an option?”

  “Probably because you didn’t ask,” Booker replied, sitting at the picnic table and nosing through another bag. “Ooh. Steaks! I love steak.”

  “I wanted to get shrimp for the grill, too, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to carry it.” The heat was making me feel pouty and even though it wasn’t an attractive quality I couldn’t quite shake the urge. “Maybe I should go back.”

  “I have a better idea.” Booker grabbed the grocery bags, heaving them with minimal effort, and turned toward the lighthouse. “Let’s put this stuff away so it doesn’t spoil and I’ll drive you to the market so you can stock up on the basics. Then I’ll show you the cart rental corral and maybe even introduce you to a few of the store regulars so you don’t look like such a newbie.”

  I was fairly certain he meant at least half of that as an insult, but I wasn’t in a position to turn down his offer. “Thank you.”

  Booker pursed his lips. “I know that you’re still getting used to this, but most people on the island are open to helping. All you have to do is ask.”

  “If you ask for help in Detroit you end up losing your purse a lot of the time … and your hubcaps … and sometimes your entire car.”

  “You’re not in Detroit.”

  That was starting to sink in.

  “OKAY, THE BIG thing to know about the market is that it is best to hit it on Mondays and Tuesdays.” Booker took his role as grocery store tour guide very seriously. “It’s late in the week, but we lucked out some because it’s not all that late. This place will be packed in about an hour.”

  “I would think that all of the tourists would eat at restaurants. Why do they come here?”

  “Everyone loves fresh fruit and liquor. People like to take it to the beach.”

  Hmm. I hadn’t considered that. “Fair enough.” I hefted a case of bottled water into the bottom of the cart. “That should be enough of that for now.”

  “You’re cute.” Booker grabbed two more cases and transferred them to the lower rack. “This should get you through about a week.”

  I was appalled. “That’s a lot of wasted bottles.”

  “It is, but the recycling folks on Moonstone Bay are extremely diligent. You have three recycling bins in the garage. I know because I saw them there when I grabbed the saw.”

  “That’s my saw?” I was dumbfounded. “Why do I have a saw?”

  “What else are you going to do when you have to dismember a demon?”

  He was kidding, right? “No, seriously, why do I have a saw?”

  “I am serious.” Booker turned down the bread aisle. “I saw you got one loaf, but I’d get some English muffins and bagels. You’ll want easy things to grab for breakfast. When the heat really gets going, you’ll find you don’t have much of an appetite, but it’s important to eat.”

  He sounded so rational, yet I wanted to pound him in the head. “That’s why I got the fruit.”

  “Which is good, but you need more carbs.” Booker grabbed a package of blueberry bagels. “These are really good.”

  “Whatever.” I did my best to keep from melting down as I followed him down the aisle. “So I have a saw to dismember demons, huh?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “Don’t tell her things like that!” Lilac popped up at the end of the aisle and smacked her hand against Booker’s forehead by way of greeting. “She’s liable to take it seriously given everything that’s going on.”

  Booker scowled as he ruefully rubbed his forehead. “Don’t ever hit me again.”

  “Don’t say stupid things and I won’t have to hit you,” Lilac countered, grinning as she met my gaze over Booker’s shoulder. “Stocking up?”

  “She has absolutely nothing to eat in that place and I’m at the point where I’ll gnaw off my own arm if I don’t get something to snack on,” Booker replied, his eyes drifting to the salted nuts display. “Here we go. Do you like almonds? Pralines? Walnuts? Ooh, how about some peanuts?”

  I stared at him blankly for a beat and then shrugged. “I’ve never given much thought to my nut needs.”

  Lilac snorted, her mind clearly drifting to a dirty place. “You should get on that, honey. The whole town is buzzing about the fact that you had two of our most eligible bachelors sleeping in your house at the same time last night. Are you honestly saying you didn’t give either of them a test drive?”

  My cheeks burned with mortification and I glued my eyes to my flip-flops. “Good grief,” I muttered, sucking in a breath.

  “Leave her alone,” Booker instructed, blasé. “She had a rough night and she went on a secret mission this afternoon. I think if you pile much more on her she’ll blow a gasket.”

  I knew that was an insult. “I didn’t go on a secret mission!”

  “She went to the construction office and asked about Mark Santiago,” Lilac volunteered. “From what I’ve been able to piece together – and the information is spotty at best because Galen is not in a good mood and he told me to mind my own business – Mark Santiago broke into the lighthouse last night, got hurt in the process and died in the ditch afterward. Do I pretty much have everything down?”

  She was good, I had to give her that. “How did you … ?”

  “Serafina Caruthers saw you going into the construction office and theorized you were considering getting work done on the lighthouse
,” Lilac replied. “I didn’t think that made much sense because you’ve been too busy with other things to give that much thought, so I went to the office and asked Martin.”

  “And he told you?” Did no one on this island respect privacy? Sure, I went into the office in the first place to get information on a dead man who I may or may not have killed with magical powers I didn’t know I had, but I was in a pickle. Lilac was just doing it for show.

  Lilac snorted. “Of course he told me. He was curious what I knew about Mark’s death and we traded information.”

  “What do you know about Mark’s death?” Booker asked, leading us to the next aisle. He was a good multi-tasker because he kept one ear on the conversation as he filled my cart with stuff I would probably never eat. “I would’ve thought Galen was trying to keep that secret.”

  “He was, but Ronnie Sinclair discovered the body while collecting Dolly Winston’s garbage,” Lilac explained. “You know what a big mouth Ronnie has.”

  “Yes, it almost rivals your mouth.” Booker flicked the end of Lilac’s nose, a fond but weary expression on his face. “You shouldn’t be passing out information on Mark’s death. It’s going to turn into a big deal.”

  “Why not?” Lilac was affronted. “This is the biggest thing to hit Moonstone Bay since Meredith Markham got naked and drove her golf cart down the main drag last month. She even drove it on the sidewalks, which is a direct violation of DDA rules. She owes, like, five grand in fines and refuses to pay. She says menopause made her do it.”

  I slapped my hand to my forehead, utterly perplexed.

  Booker offered me a consoling hand on the shoulder as he grabbed packages of pre-mixed tuna fish and heaped them in the cart. “You’ll get used to it. Meredith is actually really funny when she’s on her estrogen.”

  “Oh, well, that makes everything better,” I muttered, glaring at the tuna. “I don’t even like tuna.”

  “It’s good for you.” Booker turned his full attention to Lilac. “I’m not joking about keeping your mouth shut. Galen has his hands full. Between Bonnie’s death and Mark’s … whatever it was he was doing last night … he’s got a lot to sort through.”

  Lilac knit her eyebrows, confusion washing over her face. “I thought Bonnie accidentally drowned.”

  Booker shot a worried look in my direction, clearly recognizing his mistake, and then squared his shoulders. “It’s still a lot of paperwork to fill out. He has to make sure he checks every nook and cranny to make sure a killer clown isn’t hiding there.”

  Huh. What was that supposed to mean? “You guys don’t have killer clowns, do you?” I involuntarily shuddered at that thought. I could take murderers, vampires and even witches, but I drew the line at killer clowns.

  “Not since last year,” Lilac replied, distracted. “We had a brief contagion of them, but the Rocky Beach cult members needed someone for a human sacrifice and the clowns fit the bill.”

  Wait … what? “Human sacrifice?”

  “She made that up,” Booker said, squeezing my shoulder. “Stop being … well, you, Lilac. She’s dealing with way too much truth to sort through your version of lies. I know you think you’re being funny, but you’re actually being the exact opposite.”

  “I’m sorry.” Lilac was contrite. “I won’t do it again.” She crossed her finger over her heart, allowing me to exhale. “As long as you tell me what’s really going on, that is.”

  Oh, so close. “Do they carry sleeping pills here?”

  “You don’t need sleeping pills.” Booker snagged the back of my shirt and dragged me back when I moved to wander away. “That’s why we have so much liquor on the island.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard you guys don’t have alcoholics. Just recreational drinkers, right?”

  Booker wasn’t bothered by the charge. “Pretty much.” He kept his attention focused on Lilac. “You need to let this go. What happened to Mark and Bonnie is a lot for Galen and his three-man team to sort through. Don’t pressure him.”

  “Yeah, I hear he folds under pressure,” Lilac smirked, winking at me. “You spent the night with him last night, right? Can you verify that?”

  I seriously thought I was about to pass out. My feet felt alien, as if they didn’t belong to my body, and my brain was doing this weird floating thing. It was kind of nice. “Sleeping pills. Where are they?”

  “You’re not getting sleeping pills.” Booker was adamant. “Let it go, Lilac. You’re starting to get really annoying.”

  Starting? I was pretty sure she passed that days ago. I liked her. She was friendly and had enough personality to fill an entire island. She was also agitating on a level I didn’t know existed outside of cheerleading camp or extreme couponing meetings.

  Lilac pasted an innocent expression on her face. “How am I being annoying?”

  “The fact that you’re even asking that with a straight face tells me that you’re in the mood to play games,” Booker fired back. “I am not.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Lilac turned her petulant pout toward me. “How did Mark Santiago die?”

  “Don’t answer that,” Booker barked. “She’s trying to get around me by asking you.”

  “Really? I never would’ve guessed that.” I was too tired to put up with much more of this. “So … does anyone want to head toward the liquor aisle?”

  “Be patient, grasshopper.” Booker’s smirk set my teeth on edge. “We need to talk about the other thing first.”

  “What’s the other thing?” I was truly at a loss.

  “Why did you go to the construction office? I knew you were up to something by the way you left, but I’m curious about why you picked that to be your move.”

  “What do you think my move should’ve been?”

  “Oh, you’re not going to distract me.” Booker wagged a finger in my face. “Tell me what you were doing talking to Martin.”

  Crap. I guess there was no way out of this. “I Googled Mark Santiago’s name because I was curious and wanted to see what I could find out about him.”

  “You could’ve asked me,” Booker said.

  “Or me,” Lilac added.

  “I wanted to search for myself,” I clarified. “One of the things I found was a photograph of him sitting on a roof. It was a business story about ongoing construction on the island and the caption said Mark worked for Martin Gullikson.”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned on Booker. “You wanted to see if he had any insight on why Mark broke into your house.”

  “It turns out Martin cut Mark loose months ago because his recreational drinking problem was becoming dire.”

  “Heck, I could’ve told you that,” Booker said. “You should’ve asked.”

  “You’re cagey with information,” I reminded him. “I think you wanted to tell me, but you came to some manly agreement with Galen this morning and you don’t want to break the bro code.”

  Booker’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Bro code?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s a bunch of hogwash. I have a right to know what’s going on.”

  “I don’t disagree,” Booker countered. “I think you’re like an overloaded circuit, though. I’m not sure how much more you can take.”

  “So coddling me is the answer?”

  “I thought you said there wasn’t any cuddling,” Lilac challenged, making a face when I murdered her with the meanest look in my repertoire. “Wow. Your sense of humor is non-existent today, huh?”

  She had no idea. “I wanted to know more about Mark Santiago. I think I’ve earned that.”

  “I do, too, but you should’ve asked me about his work history,” Booker said. “I could’ve told you he wasn’t doing construction any longer.”

  “Fine. Then what has he been doing with his time?”

  “He’s been working on the Durham Farm.”

  Lilac snapped her head so she could stare down Booker, surprise practically oozing from her pores. “Seriously? I didn’t know that. I wondered wh
ere he was getting his beer money.”

  “He’s been working there for two months,” Booker supplied. “I have no idea how he’s been working out, but I know he’s been putting in regular appearances.”

  “Really.” I wasn’t sure what to make of that. “You have a farm?”

  “Of course we do. Where do you think we get the fresh dairy and meat?”

  I glanced at the contents of the cart, my stomach twisting. I knew where chicken and beef came from, of course, but the idea that the animals were born and raised on the island simply so they could feed residents and tourists made me feel a bit iffy. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

  “Do you know what we should do?” Lilac was back to being bubbly.

  “We should check out and head back to the lighthouse so I can finish my work,” Booker answered.

  “No, that’s boring.” Lilac waved off the suggestion. “I think we should go out to the farm and ask Wesley what he knows.”

  I had no idea who Wesley was, but I was beginning to like this idea. “Can we walk out there?”

  Lilac shook her head. “Too far. We need someone to drive us.”

  I let my eyes drift to Booker, my lips curving as a plan took shape. “I guess it’s good we have someone who can drive us out there, huh? A kind and giving soul who wants to help.”

  “Oh, geez.” Booker pinched the bridge of his nose. “Galen is going to beat the crap out of me when he hears about this.”

  “I’ll protect you.” I grabbed Booker’s arm and directed him down the aisle. “Come on. We’ll stop in the liquor aisle and take this stuff home before we head out. Then tonight I’ll reward you with grilled steak and whatever else you want.”

  Lilac brightened. “That sounds promising. I was hoping you would open yourself up to getting some before you risked finding cobwebs down there.”

  “Not that.” I shook my head. “I swear it won’t take very long and you won’t get in trouble with Galen. Trust me.”