Something told me that was true only when she wanted to be found. There was something wily about her ... and powerful. She was an interesting woman, to say the least.
“Well, we should probably get going,” I said finally, uncomfortable at intruding on their private family meeting. “We have more work to do.”
“I’ll be by to visit later,” Tillie said. “I want to talk to you about a few things.”
That was unexpected. “Um ... okay.”
“We look forward to seeing you.” Luke’s expression was fond as he stared at Tillie. “You remind me of my grandmother. You’re just so ... fun.”
Tillie beamed at him. “I am fun ... but I’m nobody’s grandmother. I’m in my prime. Ask anyone.”
“She is,” Thistle acknowledged. “She’s a prime pain in the butt.”
“That’s it!” Tillie’s eyes flashed. “You’re definitely on my list.”
Thistle didn’t look bothered. “What else is new?”
6
Six
It was time for lunch, so we opted to head to the diner rather than cook. Our groceries were running precariously low, and until we stocked up we didn’t have many options.
The diner was exactly what I’d expected. It had a lot of homey charm, and the guests clearly knew one another. I pulled up short when I entered, my eyes traveling to the center table. There, holding court, was Margaret. She seemed to be having a good time telling those gathered around her about the dead body, even as she made tsking sounds about how awful it was. She mentioned how quickly the medical examiner cleaned up the mess.
She wasn’t the source of my surprise. That happened to be Max Anderson, the man sitting next to her. Not only was he the owner of Mystic Caravan, he also was Kade’s father. They’d recently put the past behind them in an effort to forge a real relationship, but it was tenuous right now. That’s what made Max’s appearance all the more interesting.
“Hello.” Max greeted his workers with a bright smile. “I was hoping to track you down. Raven said you went for a tour of the town. I checked here first ... and have been entertained ever since.”
I could read between the lines of that statement. Max came looking for us, ran into Margaret, and then was forced to sit with her at the diner so she could act like a big shot. The more I learned about the woman, the more I disliked her.
“We were at the magic store,” Luke said as he slid into one of the open seats at the large table. “It’s really cool. They have homemade candles, and the two women who work there are cousins who constantly fight.”
“Yes. Thistle and Clove.” Margaret’s expression darkened to the point I felt uncomfortable.
“They seemed nice enough,” I offered awkwardly as Kade pulled out a chair so I could sit between Max and him. “They were friendly.” Mostly, I added silently. I wasn’t sure Thistle could ever be considered truly friendly. “They seem to know a lot about the herb business.”
“That’s because they’re witches,” an older woman positioned on the other side of Margaret whispered rather loudly. If she thought she was being quiet, she was sadly mistaken.
“I thought everyone in Hemlock Cove was a witch,” I said. “Isn’t that what it says on all the brochures?”
“Yeah, but they’re real witches.” The woman was ominous. “They curse people ... and create thunderstorms ... and sometimes people disappear around them and never come back.”
She sounded deathly serious, which sent a chill down my spine.
“Don’t give them more power than they deserve, Agnes,” Margaret barked. “We’ve talked about this. Tillie gets her power from fear. That’s why we can’t be afraid of her.”
“Speak for yourself,” Agnes shot back. “I’ve always found a healthy dose of fear is good. That’s why I don’t have that recurring boil-on-the-butt problem you have.”
It took everything I had not to burst out laughing when I slid my eyes to Max. He was watching the scene, amusement positively oozing off him, and he seemed content to listen to the stories. He’d positioned himself in such a way that he could observe, absorb the gossip, and learn about potential murderers in our midst.
“And Tillie is the town’s resident witch?” Max asked, giving the impression he was genuinely interested in the conversation.
I mouthed “thank you” to the waitress as she delivered a menu and pointed toward Max’s iced tea to indicate that’s what I wanted. Luke and Kade did the same, both fascinated by the ongoing conversation and unwilling to break the spell hanging over the table.
“Oh, there’s a whole clan of them,” Margaret said, her eyes sparkling. If I had to guess, she was excited to have a new audience for her tales. “Tillie is the one in charge. She’s definitely a nut. She’s been after me since we were in high school together.”
Polite as always, Max merely gave her an encouraging smile. “And how does that work? You’ll have to forgive my curiosity, but I’m fascinated by the idea of witches.”
“Well, you should get over that,” Margaret admonished. “Witches are terrifying creatures, and Tillie is the scariest thing imaginable.”
I pictured the clown leggings and couldn’t help but agree. They were truly frightening.
“What did she do to you?” Max asked.
“Well, for starters, she enchanted a man.” Margaret lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “His name was Calvin and he was the sweetest thing ever. He was helpful, always volunteering his time when someone was in need, and he once held an umbrella over my head so I wouldn’t get wet during a storm.”
“He sounds like a true gentleman,” Max noted. “However, I’m curious how he plays into the story.”
“Tillie cast a love spell on him,” Margaret explained. “He was going to ask me to the senior prom. I’d heard from more than one friend that it was going to happen. Instead, he asked her out. He started carrying her books and following her around like a lost puppy dog. It was sickening.”
“I see. It sounds horrible,” Max intoned.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from chuckling at his reaction. I could tell he thought Margaret was full of herself, but he was still curious enough to keep the conversation going.
“And then what happened?” Luke asked the obvious question. “Did he accidentally walk in front of a truck and die because of this spell or something?”
Margaret shook her head. “No. He married her.”
“And then what?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Margaret’s agitation came out to play. “She stole that man from the life he was rightfully supposed to live.”
“A life with you?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Huh.” I slid a sidelong look to Kade and found him watching the exchange with unreadable eyes. “I guess it would suck to lose the person you’re destined to be with.”
He squeezed my knee under the table and flashed a full-wattage smile. He didn’t speak, though, instead letting Margaret keep to her rhythm.
“I tried to talk to Calvin over the years, break the curse, but the spell was too strong,” Margaret explained. “Then he died ... and there was nothing left to fight for.”
“That’s kind of sad,” Luke lamented. “When did he die?”
Margaret made an obnoxious face. “Does it matter? He was gone, and all that was left was Tillie. She’d already raised those girls by that point. There are times I wonder if Calvin realized he was bamboozled after the fact but chose to stay because they had those girls to take care of.”
“And what girls are you referring to?” Max asked.
“Winnie, Marnie and Twila. They were Tillie’s sister’s girls. She died and left them when they were still teenagers. Tillie took them in ... and made them witches, too. They weren’t as bad as Tillie. I had hope.”
Margaret’s expression was so dour it made me think something truly terrible had happened. “Did the hope not last?”
“Winnie, Marnie and Twila all married not long
after graduating from high school,” Margaret explained. “They each had a daughter. Bay was first. The other two followed quickly. They were cute kids and I thought there was a chance they would grow up normal.
“Instead, all three women got divorced around the same time and they took those girls and moved in with Tillie,” she continued. “They were all lost causes after that. And, let me tell you something, the most recent generation of Winchesters is just as bad as Tillie. You wouldn’t believe the things they’ve done.”
I was officially intrigued. “What have they done?”
“Well, for starters, Bay used the same curse Tillie did to snag Calvin and got herself an FBI agent. I heard they met in a corn maze of all places, if you can imagine that, and she was a suspect in a murder at the time. The next thing you know, they’re in love and all over each other. He’s never far when she gets in trouble. I find it mighty convenient.”
I pictured the FBI agent in question and the way he interacted with Bay at the scene. If he was under a spell, it didn’t show. He was clearly fond of the woman. That was obvious by the way he looked at her, but he didn’t show signs of being muddled or glazed.
“Why would she want an FBI agent?” Luke asked. “I would think, if you’re a witch, the last thing you’d want to do is get on the FBI’s radar.”
The look Margaret shot Luke was pitying. “She makes him cover up her crimes.”
“What crimes?” I asked. “I mean ... do you have knowledge that they’ve committed crimes?”
“Of course I do.” Margaret looked insulted that I would dare question her. “I wouldn’t make the accusations without proof.”
I waited for her to expound, which she seemed more than happy to do.
“It started with yellow snow.”
That wasn’t the sentence I was expecting. “Excuse me?”
“She said it started with yellow snow,” Luke replied. “I think we’re all going to love this story. I, for one, know I’m looking forward to hearing it. Don’t ask unnecessary questions until I know exactly where the yellow snow talk is going. Please continue, Mrs. Little.”
Kade coughed to cover a laugh and then moved his arm around my back. He was clearly enjoying himself.
“Tillie has a snowplow,” Margaret explained, obviously missing the way my boyfriend and best friend kept fidgeting in their chairs. “She’s had it for years. She used to make extra money with it during rough winters, towing people out of snow drifts and such. This is on top of the illegal wine she makes and the pot field every teenager in this town knows is up on that bluff. That’s a whole other issue, though.
“Anyway, she used to wait until my regular guy plowed my drive after every snow and then she would plow me back in,” she continued. “Every single time.”
“I don’t see how that requires magic,” I pointed out.
“I’m getting to it.”
“Yes, let her get to the yellow snow,” Luke chided. “I have to hear the story about yellow snow. If I don’t, I’ll never get over it.”
“Oh, geez,” I muttered under my breath.
“For once, I’m with Luke,” Kade admonished. “I need to hear the story about yellow snow, too. You need to shush.” He lifted his finger to his lips for emphasis.
“This went on for a good two or three years,” Margaret supplied. “Every snowstorm I would end up trapped in my house for days. She would even bring those little girls with her when she did it. I’d see them in the truck. She put football helmets on them because they were ramming into the snow so hard their heads sometimes bounced off the dashboard.”
I tried to picture the scene and smiled. Tillie Winchester very well might have been a witch — and I had no doubt she was — but she also sounded like a fun great-aunt. She clearly spent a lot of time with her family.
“Tillie got bored just plowing me in,” Margaret said. “It wasn’t enough of a challenge. Then, magically, the snow at the end of the driveway started turning yellow. Like ... huge rivers of yellow. People thought that I was somehow doing it because Tillie told them I had bladder issues.”
I choked on my iced tea as I tried not to laugh. Luke and Kade weren’t strong enough to contain themselves. Even Max looked amused.
“It’s not funny,” Margaret snapped. “I was traumatized by the whole thing.”
“You’re leaving out the best part of the story,” Agnes complained. “You forgot to tell them about the time she turned the snow brown and put up a sign near the road that said you were full of s— .”
“Thank you, Agnes,” Margaret barked. “It’s my story. I’ll tell it.”
Agnes sat back in defeat, but she looked rather pleased with herself. “Whatever.”
“You see, that whole Winchester brood is evil,” Margaret said. “They do terrible things and cast spells to get their way. Bay has enchanted an FBI agent — and she’s had Terry wrapped around her finger since she was a child — and now they get away with whatever they want.”
Margaret had a dramatic flair about her, and she delivered the last line with real zest at the same moment the diner door opened to allow Terry and Landon entrance. It was obvious they’d heard what she said, because the look on Landon’s face was downright murderous.
“What did we miss this time?” Terry asked dryly.
“Mrs. Little was explaining about how real witches have taken over the town and how they put yellow snow in her driveway every winter,” Luke offered helpfully.
The corners of Terry’s mouth tipped up. “Yes, well, I don’t think there’s anything witchy about the yellow snow. I think that’s simply sixty-five years of animosity and food coloring.”
He said the words, but there was something evasive about them. It was clear he had a long history with Margaret, one that wasn’t exactly pleasant, but he was also covering for the Winchesters. That was definitely interesting. He knew as well as anyone that the yellow snow was more than simply an industrious senior citizen burning time.
“She also said that Bay bewitched an FBI agent ... and maybe you when she was a little girl,” Luke added, steadfastly ignoring the way Margaret glared at him.
“We’ve heard those stories before,” Landon said as he sat at a nearby table and perused the specials menu. “The only thing she’s bewitched me with is bedhead and tickles.”
Terry rolled his eyes. “How many times have I told you not to say perverted things about my little sweetheart in front of me? She still has pigtails as far as I’m concerned.”
“You should take it up with her,” Landon countered. “She’s the one who starts the tickling. Perhaps you should simply accept the fact that she’s the pervert.”
“And I’m done talking to you.” Terry raised his hand to block out Landon’s face and slid his eyes to me. “Have you been enjoying your tour through town? I saw you went into Hypnotic.”
Did he want me to think he was watching us? Or was he more interested in seeing if I would say anything about Clove and Thistle? It was hard to decide. “It’s a fun town,” I said, tracing the ring of condensation my glass left on the table. “I like all the kitschy stores. I also saw someone I believe you’re looking for in the magic shop.”
Terry’s expression turned dark. “Was she armed?”
“That depends on if you believe clown leggings are a weapon.”
Landon shuddered. “Ugh. She bought those to torture me. I couldn’t believe it when she trotted them out the first time. They’ll haunt me the rest of my life.”
“Not a fan of clowns, huh?” Kade asked.
Landon shook his head. “Is anyone?”
“I know one person who is,” Luke said. “Hey, that’s a fun story. How do you feel about leather chaps?”
“Like I don’t want to hear that story,” Landon replied. “As for Aunt Tillie, did she say where she was heading when she left?”
I shook my head. “No. She didn’t say much of anything. Er, well, she put the girl with the green hair on her list. I don’t know what that entail
s, but I’m curious enough that I might want to see this list.”
“You don’t,” Terry countered. “As for Thistle, she’s used to being at the top of the list. I wouldn’t worry about her. Regarding Darren, we’re still investigating, but have no leads. We might swing back around to question more of your workers this afternoon, if you’re okay with that.”
He was testing me. He wanted to see if I would balk at being interrogated. He clearly didn’t know me well enough to realize that there was nothing he could say or do to frighten me. “That’s fine.” I looked to Max for confirmation and he nodded. “You don’t need to ask before visiting. We’re open for questions any time. Just don’t enter the animal tents without an escort. We have liability issues. You’re more than welcome to visit; you just need to be accompanied by a certified animal trainer.”
“I don’t think we need to interview the animals, but we’ll probably want more coffee,” Terry said. “For now, we have more people to interview around town. We also need to get some insight into that symbol. You didn’t recognize it, did you?”
The question caught me off guard. It felt like another trap, and yet his mind was open enough that I could read his surface thoughts. He wasn’t trying to trap me. He was legitimately curious.
“I didn’t recognize it,” I said. “I can ask around, though. I could look on the internet, too.”
“We can handle that,” Landon said. “Thank you for your time. We really appreciate it. I can guarantee that my bewitching girlfriend will not be attacking you with yellow snow due to your efforts.”
“It’s not funny!” Margaret exploded when everyone at the table started laughing. “Those Winchesters will be the death of us all. Just you wait!”
7
Seven
I felt compelled to talk to Landon outside the diner after we’d finished lunch. I wasn’t sure why, but there was something I wanted to get off my chest.
Freaky Witches (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 7) Page 6
