“She told you that?”
“She told Adam.”
“So ... there were no hard feelings between them?” I found that hard to believe. “Nothing at all?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
I thought about what Dani had said to me. “What if I told you they’d been fighting and Lorna threw the affair in his face? Would you find that out of the ordinary?”
“Yes.”
She seemed certain of herself, which left me scrambling for the right words. “Adam was stabbed in the back. Someone wanted him dead.”
“And you suspect Lorna?”
I thought back to the way she’d carried on in front of the blacksmith shop. If Lisa was right and she was fine with the divorce, it didn’t make much sense.
“I don’t know what I believe,” I replied. “Lorna seemed distraught about what was happening when we saw her yesterday.”
“Of course she was distraught. Adam was still one of her closest friends. He was the father of her children. The love they shared didn’t go away. It simply changed into something new. Why wouldn’t she be distraught?”
Perhaps I was looking at the situation the wrong way. It all felt off. I didn’t know how to balance my questions, empathy and suspicions. “Lorna might’ve been putting on an act,” I said finally. “She might’ve pretended to be fine even though she was actually angry.”
“I sincerely doubt that.”
“Why?”
“Because she was involved in another relationship.”
Oh, well, the hits just kept on coming ... and coming and coming. “With who?”
Lisa chewed her bottom lip, uncertain. “I’m not sure I should say.”
“Either you tell me or Landon and Chief Terry will confront her. That’ll probably make things worse.” Actually, there was no “probably” about it. Things were definitely going to get worse. “The news will come out either way.”
She heaved a sigh and I saw the resignation dragging down her shoulders. “Fine. But I would prefer the information not being tracked back to me.”
That was turning into the main game of the day. “No problem. Who is it?”
“Paul Masterson.”
I nearly fell out of my chair. “Paul Masterson? The guy who owns the real estate office?”
“That’s him.”
“The old guy who is also on the township board?”
“One and the same.”
“Oh, geez.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and looked to Aunt Tillie. “This just keeps getting uglier and uglier.”
“Yeah, but I’m getting a cape out of the deal,” she said. “That’s the most important thing.”
Ten
Lisa finished Aunt Tillie’s cape, making sure to test it by tying it around her neck and tugging from five different directions before sending us on our way. She looked exhausted, to the point I was certain she was back to where she was right after her husband died.
I made a mental note to say something to Chief Terry. He had connections with the county mental health facility and might be able to send a counselor her way.
“What do you think?” Aunt Tillie twirled in her cape, studying her reflection in the front window.
“You look like a grown woman dressed like a superhero,” I replied automatically.
She scowled. “Not about that, you ninny. I’m talking about the story she told. Do you believe her?”
“I don’t have any reason not to. Still ... it seems a little weird, right? I can’t imagine being okay with my husband having an affair, and certainly not to where I take off and have an affair of my own.”
“That’s because you’ve already bonded for life with your Fed. Not everyone bonds as strongly as the two of you.”
“I think I prefer being bonded.”
“That’s not always the easiest way to go,” she noted as she gripped her cape tighter and twirled again. I didn’t need to see inside her mind to know what she was thinking. She had bonded for life, too. Only her husband, my great-uncle Calvin, died when they were still in their prime. She’d spent the decades since without him.
Sure, she’d dated a bit. Her last boyfriend, Kenneth, had seemingly disappeared into the ether when she lost interest. I’d considered asking why she’d dumped him, but I recognized it wasn’t my place. If she didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t have to.
“Yeah, well ... that doesn’t explain the fact that Lorna is dating Masterson.” I made a face as I moved to the edge of the sidewalk and focused my attention on the town square. It was set up for a festival — which was always the case in Hemlock Cove — and the witches raced around the open area, having a good time. In the middle of it all were several local politicians, chatting up the guests, putting themselves on display and feeding off the attention. Masterson seemed deep in conversation with a pretty, dark-haired witch.
I didn’t know him well. He was in his late sixties and boasted snowy hair. There were lines around his eyes, but otherwise he carried himself with the strength of a younger man. He was always impeccably dressed, never a hair out of place. I honestly didn’t know if I liked or hated him.
“What do you think of Masterson?” I asked after a beat. Aunt Tillie knew him better. While she tended to take the theatrical route with enemies, she was a good judge of character when it came to others.
“He’s kind of an enigma,” Aunt Tillie said, turning her full attention to the town square. “I mean ... I’ve talked to him here or there. He’s never really pinged my radar. Why? Do you think he killed Adam?”
“I think this entire relationship game is a big problem,” I admitted. “We have a quadrangle that was messy, no matter what Lisa said. We also have at least one kid in the mix who knew about the affair. What are the odds Nick was in the dark if his sister knew?”
“You think the kids did it?” Aunt Tillie wrinkled her nose. “That’s quite a stretch.”
“I didn’t say that. The thing is, if the adults thought they were hiding it from the kids — and that seems to be the sole reason Adam and Lorna were staying together — maybe they weren’t as under the radar as they thought. It’s possible a lot of people knew about the affair.
“I don’t know what that means in the grand scheme of things,” I continued. “It could mean absolutely nothing. It could also mean there’s a clue in there we simply have to sort out.”
“Who is this ‘we’ you’re referring to?” Aunt Tillie queried. “I’m not involved in this. I have my own mischief to manage.”
She wasn’t wrong. “You’re going to the festival tonight?”
“Of course. Margaret will be there ... and Hazel.” Aunt Tillie’s eyes turned dark. “There has to be a way for me to punish them both with the same plan. That will make me look like a genius and force them to turn into whiny babies who curl into balls and cry for days.”
“I doubt they’ll do that.”
“You don’t know. I’m good at what I do.”
That was true. “Just be careful when you’re doling out punishment. If Mom finds out ... .” I left it hanging. My mother had been in a remarkably good mood of late — finally embarking on a real relationship with Chief Terry had seemingly made her a happier person than I ever remembered — but that didn’t mean she would simply sit back and watch Aunt Tillie run roughshod over the gathering’s premier guest.
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not afraid of your mother?”
We both knew that was a lie, but I decided to let it go. I needed Aunt Tillie on top of her game. “Just be careful.” I patted her shoulder. “Try not to get your cape tangled in any tree branches while you’re riding. You might get hurt.”
She turned haughty as she retrieved her scooter and moved it toward the street. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ve got everything under control.”
“How can you control an accident?”
“With magic. You keep forgetting, Bay, we’re witches. We can do whatever we want. That includes casting a spell
that makes capes something more.”
I didn’t want to know what that “something more” was. “Just be careful. We have enough on our plates.”
LANDON PICKED ME UP AT THE Whistler shortly after his shift ended. He greeted me with a friendly kiss and then linked his fingers with mine before dragging me toward the festival.
“You must be hungry,” I noted as I struggled to keep up. His legs were longer than mine and he appeared to be a man on a mission.
“How do you know I’m not in a hurry to get you in the kissing booth?” he asked, slowing his pace a bit. “This could all be about you rather than my stomach.”
I shot him a dubious look.
“Or it could be about the new bacon food truck that I saw earlier,” he added sheepishly.
“There’s a bacon food truck?” Seriously, how did I miss that? “Who’s running it?”
“Who cares? It’s bacon. I saw the menu when I was walking past and it’s glorious.”
He looked like a kid who had just gotten the new bike he really, really wanted for Christmas. “What if I don’t want bacon?”
“Don’t tease me, Bay.” His response was dry. “Everybody wants bacon.”
“Not all of us love it as much as you. Besides ... how many different things can they make with bacon?”
“I’m glad you asked.” He tightened his grip on my hand and his expression turned distinctively dreamy. “They have maple bacon doughnuts, bacon-stuffed fried Twinkies, bacon-wrapped chicken drumsticks, bacon sliders and something called bacon-wrapped cheese bombs. I have no idea what those are, but I’m eating ten of them.”
“Well, at least you have a plan.”
“I do,” he agreed, his eyes sliding to me. It was only after a moment of searching my face that he appeared to slow down. “Tell me about your day.”
He was perceptive. That was one of the best things about him. He might’ve initially missed the hints about my mood because of his bacon mania, but it didn’t take him long to catch up.
“I learned a few interesting tidbits,” I admitted. “I think you need to hear them ... but I come off looking like an idiot at the beginning of the story.”
“Did you put yourself in danger?”
“No. I simply believed something Mrs. Little told me that turned out not to be true.”
He scowled. He hated Mrs. Little as much as the rest of us. Sometimes I thought more. We were used to her, had grown accustomed to her nonsense over the years. He didn’t have the luxury of finding any of her antics funny. “Did she say something to you about the campground?”
“Not exactly.” I told him about my afternoon. I did a run-through of my discussion with Mrs. Little, included my embarrassment at interrogating Sheila and finished with my distaste following my conversation with Lisa. It took almost twenty minutes.
“You’ve been busy,” he said as he gently slid a strand of hair behind my ear and considered what I’d told him. “That’s quite the romantic quadrangle there. What do you know about this board member?”
“Not much. I even asked Aunt Tillie about him. She said he’s never pinged for her, but the truth is that she’s never paid that much attention to him. With Mrs. Little constantly acting up, there was no reason to focus on Masterson.”
“You must’ve had some run-ins with him.”
“I guess.” I searched my memory. “I don’t remember talking to him more than a few occasions. I interviewed him a few times. He’s simply a non-entity.”
“We’ll still have to talk to him.”
“I figured.” I leaned close and rested my head on his shoulder as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I should probably tell you now that I enlisted Aunt Tillie to go after Mrs. Little. I was frustrated at the time because she sent me after Sheila. Now I’m starting to wonder if it was a terrible idea.”
Instead of commiserating with me, Landon snorted. “Please. That woman has it coming. I can’t wait to see what Aunt Tillie dreams up. Now that she has a cape there will probably be a superhero theme to her punishments. That sounds entertaining.”
I hadn’t told him about the cape. “Did you see her in it?”
He nodded. “She’s zipping around on the scooter and having a grand time.”
“She could hurt someone.”
“She won’t.” He sounded sure of himself. “She’s more responsible than we give her credit for ... at least most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, she does the occasional idiotic thing. Okay ... she does a lot of idiotic things. But at her core she’s a good person with a wicked sense of justice. Whatever she doles out to Margaret Little, that horrible woman has it coming.”
I arched an eyebrow, unable to hide my surprise. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“That is how I really feel. I want Aunt Tillie to make her cry. I’ve had it with her.”
“You know, earlier today Aunt Tillie said I was getting more and more like her with each passing year. I didn’t want to hear it. Now I’m starting to wonder if you’re getting more like her.”
Instead of being offended, Landon laughed. “You know what? I’m fine with it, especially where Mrs. Little is concerned. I don’t want to talk about her, though. I want to talk about the bacon truck. Can we please go there before my stomach implodes?”
He was too earnest to deny. “Okay, but I might be getting my dinner from a different truck. I don’t think I want huge chunks of cheese wrapped in bacon as my primary source of nutrition this evening.”
“Do what you want, but you’ll be missing out.”
“I can live with that.”
LANDON HAD SEVERE BACON BREATH when he dragged me into the kissing booth. It was one of his favorite festival attractions, which always made me laugh. He’d overdosed on bacon to the point I was convinced he would be sweating grease later, but he was in a ridiculously good mood so I was willing to put up with it.
Masterson was one of the first people I saw upon leaving the kissing booth. He was holding court in the middle of the festival, a bevy of witches surrounding him, and telling jokes that didn’t sound even remotely funny. The brunette I saw earlier guffawed and I figured it had to be an act … or she was an airhead who didn’t get the idea of true humor.
“Not tonight,” Landon admonished, lightly grabbing me by the back of the neck to keep me from crossing over to Masterson. “There are too many people here.”
I was surprised he cared. “We need to talk to him.”
“Technically I need to talk to him ... and Terry. You don’t need to be involved in this at all.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t cut me out of this. Not after everything.”
He sighed. “I have no intention of cutting you out of this. Believe it or not, I consider you a valuable part of the team.” He kissed the tip of my nose by way of proof. “But you have to wait. We can’t draw attention to a murder in the middle of a festival. That’s not the way to keep the tourists happy.”
I was dumbfounded. “I had no idea you cared so much.”
“Yeah, well ... I love this town. I fell in love with you first and your love of this town caused me to take a long, hard look at what we were dealing with. We’re going to live here forever. I don’t want to do anything to hurt Hemlock Cove’s future prospects.”
That was an adult viewpoint ... which I didn’t necessarily like. “So ... we’re going to talk to him tomorrow?”
“We’re going to discuss a game plan tomorrow,” he countered. “I don’t know how we’re going to approach this. Technically it’s Terry’s case. That means you and I are the subordinates.”
“I don’t like being a subordinate.”
He lightly patted my behind and prodded me forward. “It can be fun if you play it the right way. Later tonight we can play that game. I’ll be Mr. Montague and you can be my long-suffering secretary.”
I shot him a dirty look. “That is not funny.”
“Oh, it’s funny if you think about it.”
“I don’t want to think abou
t it. In fact ... .” I trailed off when I heard crows cawing. It was much louder than we’d normally hear at this time of night. “Where is that coming from?”
“What?” Landon’s gaze was on the ice cream truck. “We should get sugared up and go back in the kissing booth.”
I ignored the suggestion and lifted my eyes to the sky. There, a swarm of black birds circled at the far edge of the town square … almost as if they were stalking prey. “Harbingers.”
Finally, as if sensing that I was distracted, Landon followed my gaze. His frown was pronounced. “What kind of birds are those?”
“Crows.”
“Why are they doing that? This isn’t going to turn into a horror movie, is it?”
I wasn’t sure. Until this exact moment, I’d forgotten about the birds I saw right before the explosion. “We should head over there.”
“Why? Crows aren’t scavengers, are they? I doubt they’re circling a body.”
“No, but a big murder of them appeared right before the blacksmith shop exploded.”
He stilled. “Murder?”
“That’s the term for a flock of crows.”
“You didn’t mention the crows at the blacksmith’s shop.”
“I forgot. Between Adam dying and the lack of oxygen to my brain, it had slipped right out of my head.”
Landon didn’t look happy at the news. “Maybe we should stay away from that area if it’s dangerous.”
“We have to look.” I was firm. “If another fire breaks out ... .”
“People could be in trouble,” he finished, shaking his head. “I don’t know that I like this, Bay.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
He didn’t, so we wordlessly headed in that direction. His earlier bacon euphoria had diminished, and that made me sad. That didn’t mean we could shirk our duties.
When we arrived at the spot the birds were circling, we found a lone figure sitting on a bench. It was a woman; I could make that out right away despite the dwindling light. I had to stare a bit longer, peer through the shadows, to make out the features.
Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set Page 68
