Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set

by Amanda M. Lee

  “If I didn’t have sarcasm, I’d have absolutely nothing to say,” Thistle complained as Aunt Tillie wrapped her fingers around the front door handle. “And if Aunt Tillie didn’t have an inherent need to poke and prod like she’s Dr. Frankenstein and Mrs. Little is her monster we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  I desperately fixed my attention on Aunt Tillie. “I don’t know what you’re planning to do ... but this is a terrible idea.”

  “I don’t have terrible ideas.” Aunt Tillie was matter-of-fact. “Every idea I have is gold. This will be the same. Trust me.”

  “You once told me that we were going to get rich by taking a metal detector to the lake every summer and collecting all the jewelry people lost,” Clove pointed out, a last-ditch effort to rein Aunt Tillie in. “That wasn’t a good idea, was it?”

  Aunt Tillie made a face. “I still haven’t been proved wrong on that.”

  “No, but what do we usually find?”

  “Beer cans,” Aunt Tillie admitted sheepishly.

  “Wait a second ... .” Something occurred to me. “Since when do you two sneak off to spend time together at the lake?”

  “Oh, well ... .” Clove’s cheeks colored.

  “Who cares?” Thistle challenged. “If that old biddy wants to search for someone’s missing ring at the lake, I say let her. That’s one afternoon we don’t have to worry that she’s going to do something stupid.”

  Aunt Tillie’s eyes lit with fury. “Hey, mouth, I never do stupid things.”

  “I’ve got a whole childhood spent with you that begs to differ,” Thistle shot back.

  “Oh, we’ll just see about that.” Aunt Tillie was clearly spoiling for a fight because she narrowed her eyes and glared. “This is going to be the best idea I’ve ever had. Given that I’ve had some of the best ideas anyone has ever had, that’s saying something. You need to trust me.” She flicked her eyes to me. “You trust me, right, Bay?”

  Oh, well, geez. There was nothing I liked better than being put on the spot. “Well ... .”

  “See!” Aunt Tillie jabbed an emphatic finger into the air. “Bay trusts me. Why must you always be the difficult one, Thistle?”

  “I don’t believe Bay said that she trusts you,” Thistle argued.

  “Then clean your ears. Bay totally trusts me.” Aunt Tillie was done waiting. This time when she grabbed the door handle she pushed the door open and strolled into the Unicorn Emporium as if she owned it. “Hello, Margaret. I think we have something to discuss ... and for once it’s not your need to fill your life with phallic symbols. I mean ... what’s that about?”

  Thistle, Clove and I could’ve run. Most people wouldn’t have blamed us. That’s not the Winchester way, though, so instead we hurried into the store behind Aunt Tillie. We would offer her solidarity and support ... even if we all agreed that she was crazier than a Kardashian without access to a mirror.

  “Excuse me, Tillie,” Mrs. Little drawled, taking up position at the center of her small circle and planting her hands on her hips. “This is a private establishment.”

  “Technically it’s not,” I reminded her, cringing when she bored her eyes into me. “It’s a business. This is a tourist town, so business doors are always open. I believe that was your suggestion. You even wanted to make it the town motto, if I remember correctly.”

  “Businesses are only open until seven,” Thistle corrected, her eyes gleaming with something I remembered well from childhood. She was excited for the hunt, even if she wasn’t quite sure who she was hunting. “Mrs. Little believes doors should always be open ... but only until seven because people out after that are clearly up to no good. She actually put that in those little brochures she carries around.”

  “And I stand by that,” Mrs. Little sneered. “Only people looking for trouble are out after seven. I bet you guys are always out after seven.”

  “It depends on if there’s cake at the inn,” Clove countered. “If there’s cake, we like to stick close to it.”

  “Yes, well ... .” Mrs. Little trailed off as she defiantly squared her shoulders and stared into Aunt Tillie’s eyes. They were mortal enemies who enjoyed making scenes. They were also diminutive, barely five feet tall, although they packed a wallop of attitude.

  “What do you think you’re doing here, Tillie?” Mrs. Little asked as she settled on her plan of attack. “You’re not welcome. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “The sign says ‘open,’” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “That means that you’re open for business ... just like you used to be when you slept your way around town.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Leave it to Aunt Tillie to throw out her version of a skank insult one minute into the argument. She was clearly loaded for bear.

  “I’m not open for business with you,” Mrs. Little snapped. “That sign on the front window says that I can refuse service to anyone. I’m refusing it to you, so ... get out. I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”

  “We’re here because we want to know if you were sleeping with Dr. Hopper like Maxine there ... and a few others ... or if you might have killed him for a different reason,” Aunt Tillie countered without hesitation, causing my stomach to sink. “I think you’re too old to be one of Hopper’s conquests — he wasn’t blind, after all — but Bay here isn’t so sure. I’m leaning toward you guys having a different arrangement. I’m dying to know what it was.”

  Mrs. Little’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

  Maxine furrowed her brow as she caught up to the conversation and spoke for the first time. “Wait ... I’m confused.”

  “You weren’t the only one sleeping with Dr. Hopper,” Thistle offered helpfully. “He was doing it with at least twenty of his patients, including Janet. You weren’t special.”

  Her cheeks flooding red, Janet took a step back when Maxine’s eyes landed on her. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Janet offered lamely.

  “Oh, we know all about the people who were sleeping with Hopper,” Thistle said. “He kept copious notes ... and was a total sleazeball. By the way, there is no such thing as therapeutic sex with your doctor to save your marriage. He was using you.”

  “He was not!” Maxine was beside herself. “We were in love.”

  “You’re deluding yourself,” Thistle argued. “Tell her, Bay.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was insert myself in this conversation. “He was a total tool,” I said finally. “He used a lot of women. Don’t take it personally.”

  “Ugh!” Instead of thanking Thistle for telling her the truth, Maxine stormed in her direction. “You take that back! I’m not going to stand for you sullying the name of the man I love.”

  “Oh, this is getting out of hand,” Clove complained, skirting behind Thistle so she wouldn’t end up with a fist in the face. “I can’t be a part of this if it turns violent. I’m getting married in a few months. My face needs to look perfect for the big day.”

  “Your face won’t look so perfect when I rub dirt all over it,” Thistle warned.

  “I always look perfect.”

  “Or when I go after your dress because you simply won’t shut up,” Thistle hissed.

  That did it. Those were fighting words for Clove. “You’re dead to me, Thistle!”

  “Oh, how will I ever get over the heartbreak?” Thistle drawled, pressing her hand to her chest. “The sadness will never end and I will walk the Earth a lonely and broken woman.”

  I was trying to figure out a way to stop the inevitable fight between Thistle and Clove (and possibly Maxine, who looked to be considering a physical attack) when I realized there was more than one fight brewing.

  “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you leave,” Mrs. Little warned Aunt Tillie, closing the distance between them and planting her feet directly in front of my glowering great-aunt. “We both know I’m stronger than you.”

  Aunt Tillie’s snort was derisive. “In what alternate u
niverse?”

  “In every universe.”

  “You’re dreaming.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Mrs. Little launched herself at Aunt Tillie. She was surprisingly quick for a woman in her eighties. That didn’t mean she wasn’t breakable. If a healthy Mrs. Little was insufferable, I couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she actually had something to complain about … like a broken hip because of a fight.

  With that in mind, I took two long strides forward in an effort to intercept her, shooting out both hands to grab her by the shoulders. “Mrs. Little, think about this. You don’t want to fight. It’s beneath you.”

  Unfortunately for me, my hands missed their intended targets because of her size and I inadvertently gave her a hard shove rather than catching her. Mrs. Little’s furious eyes caught fire as they locked with mine.

  “If you want to play that way,” she sneered.

  “Wait a second ... !”

  The brawl was on.

  BY THE TIME LANDON AND Chief Terry arrived, the fight had been raging for five minutes and at least five porcelain unicorns had paid the ultimate price and hit the ground during the melee. Most of the women involved gave up after a few scratches. They weren’t used to fighting, and we had stamina on our side. Mrs. Little and Maxine refused to back down, though, and they looked a little worse for wear when law enforcement arrived.

  Of course, we didn’t exactly look put-together ourselves.

  “What happened?” Chief Terry, bewildered, planted his hands on his hips as he looked around the store. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

  “Ask them,” Melanie offered, pointing a shaking finger in our direction. She’d wisely stayed out of the fight. That didn’t mean she wasn’t injured. Janet accidentally caught her with a wild punch when she tried to sidestep the action. She went down hard ... and was barely back on her feet before Chief Terry put an end to the brawl.

  Chief Terry looked anxious when his eyes tracked to me. “Bay?”

  I shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “Well ... .”

  “Don’t give her grief,” Aunt Tillie ordered, her temper on full display as she thumped her chest and silently challenged Mrs. Little to go again. “She didn’t start this.”

  “Who did?” Landon asked as he leaned over to study my face. His finger was gentle as he traced it over my bruised lip. “Are you okay?”

  “Why are you asking her that?” Melanie challenged, her voice turning shrill. “She came in here and attacked without provocation.”

  “Um ... wait a second.” Thistle, her hair standing on end thanks to Maxine’s insistence on trying to pull it, held up a hand to quiet the gathering. “You might not be happy about what happened — the Goddess knows it’s not one of our finer moments — but you can hardly blame this on Bay. She was trying to stop the fight.”

  “She kicked me!” Janet yelled.

  “Only because you bit me,” I fired back, holding up my arm for emphasis. “Who bites someone? I mean ... come on!”

  Landon snagged my arm and studied what were clearly teeth indentations on my forearm. “Did she break the skin?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, then you probably won’t get an infection. But it might not hurt to have it looked at.”

  “I don’t think my dignity can take that hit,” I admitted. “I’m fine.”

  Landon sighed and stroked my hair away from my face so he could look deep into my eyes. He must have seen something there that told him I meant business, because he merely shook his head. “Fine. We’ll revisit it later if I feel it’s necessary.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I still don’t know what happened here,” Chief Terry noted as he paced the small open space separating their group from ours. “You’re all grown women. What were you doing brawling?”

  “I blame them,” Melanie announced. “We were minding our own business and having a good time when they stormed in and ... well, quite frankly, said some rather ridiculous things.”

  “I have trouble believing Bay said anything ridiculous,” Chief Terry countered, his loyalty rising to the surface.

  “She said thirty ridiculous things!”

  “To be fair, Bay didn’t say anything ridiculous,” Thistle argued. “She was on her best behavior. She didn’t even throw a single punch until she got bit ... and then it was on. I forgot how good she was in a fight.”

  Worried, I risked a glance at Landon out of the corner of my eye and found his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. It wasn’t what I was expecting.

  “You guys were all spouting ridiculous nonsense when you walked through the door,” Melanie argued. “I heard it.”

  “Bay didn’t say anything.” Thistle was obstinate. “She just stood there. Aunt Tillie said the ridiculous stuff. That’s why we brought her. But I don’t think Aunt Tillie said anything ridiculous. Everything she said today was true.”

  “Um ... she did say that Mrs. Little’s hair turns into snakes at night and eat the souls of the young and innocent,” Clove interjected. “That was a little ridiculous.”

  “She hasn’t been proved wrong on that,” Thistle argued.

  “Right on!” Aunt Tillie gave Thistle an enthusiastic high-five, causing me to smile. They fought with each other so often that I’d forgotten how amusing — and strong — they were when they joined forces.

  “Okay, I need to hear this story again from the beginning,” Chief Terry said after a beat, pulling a pad and pencil from his shirt pocket. “We’re going to separate everyone and take statements. We’ll start with ... um.” His eyes tracked over the room and briefly touched on me before landing on Melanie. “We’ll start with you, Ms. Adams. Please come over here and give me your statement. We’ll get to the rest of you in a few minutes.”

  I was flabbergasted ... and a little hurt. He always took my statement first. He always used my statement as a measuring stick against all others. When I focused on Landon, I realized he was equally surprised.

  “What just happened?”

  Landon shrugged. “I guess it makes sense.”

  Now he was simply making excuses for his buddy. “How does that make sense?”

  “I always take your statement first,” he reminded me. “That’s the normal thing to do ... give your girlfriend preferential treatment. He’s not doing anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Yeah, but he always gives me preferential treatment.”

  “I guess you’re not so special any longer, are you?” Mirth flitted across Mrs. Little’s face. “How does it feel to be replaced?”

  I didn’t like the idea one bit. “Hey, Aunt Tillie, did I ever tell you about the time that Mrs. Little said your wine tasted like sour grapes on strike? She wanted to have your operation shut down and even called the ATF to see if she could get you locked up in a federal facility.”

  Aunt Tillie clutched her hands into fists at her sides as Mrs. Little blanched. “No, but I’m on it. There will be no place you can hide this time, Margaret. You’d better start running now.”

  Twenty-Two

  Chief Terry questioned me second, which was something, but the damage was already done. I was cool and clipped when delivering my responses to his questions. Landon’s distaste for my attitude was evident, but I refused to back down. I obviously didn’t mention the real reason we were at the store — that would’ve opened us up for challenges nobody wanted to face — and when Chief Terry ordered all sides to disperse without arresting anyone, he left a lot of women unhappy. The most obvious was Melanie.

  “So ... they’re not even getting a reprimand?” She challenged Chief Terry as he directed us through the front door. “There’s no punishment for what they did? I see how things work.”

  “I haven’t decided who will be punished for what,” he clarified, his tone grave. “I need to go through all the reports.”

  “They were the aggressors.”

  “Except everyone says that Mrs. Little and Maxin
e attacked first.”

  “They came into the store when they weren’t invited.”

  “It’s a place of business.”

  “Right.” Melanie’s anger was palpable as she shook her head. “I guess I should’ve seen this coming. All the signs were there.”

  “What signs?” Frustration bubbled up as Chief Terry gave Aunt Tillie a small push to get her moving. “I’m making them leave. What more do you want from me?”

  “You’ll always be more loyal to them,” Melanie pressed. “They’ll always be the priority.”

  I wasn’t sure why I missed the signs before, but I recognized them now. She was trying to force Chief Terry’s hand, make him declare her top of the relationship heap, and she wanted him to do it in front of other people. It was beyond disgusting.

  “We’re not his priority,” I forced out, wiping the palms of my hands on my jeans. “He questioned you first. Don’t give him crap for doing his job.”

  Chief Terry’s eyes widened with surprise. “Aren’t you going to give me crap for doing my job?”

  “No.” Weariness momentarily swamped me as I fought to gather my emotions. Landon was right. When I lost control, bad things were more likely to happen. This was the worst time for Hopper to show up, and the way the magic crackled in the back of my head reminded me that it was a distinct possibility. I had to get out of the store and regroup in private. It wasn’t a luxury, but a necessity. “I’m going to head back to The Whistler to do my job. If you want to arrest me later, that’s where you’ll find me.”

  I was stiff as I pushed past Aunt Tillie, refusing to glance over my shoulder and meet Chief Terry’s conflicted gaze. I felt it resting on my shoulders, but I was emotionally wrung out and I didn’t want to risk something terrible happening if I lost control.

  “I’ll walk you back to The Whistler,” Landon offered, falling into step with me when I reached the sidewalk.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.” He linked his fingers with mine, his lips curving as we put distance between us and the gaggle of women inside the Unicorn Emporium. “So ... how many people did you smack around?”