Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery Box Set

by Amanda M. Lee

  “It’s a strange choice,” Chief Terry volunteered. “Butane comes in canisters and not usually in large amounts. It might be an important clue, or it might be nothing. Perhaps our murderer simply had some around.”

  “Could you track the sale?”

  “No. You don’t have to jump through any hoops to buy it. It’s readily available.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Just that the gasoline was poured around the body, but none was dumped directly on Adam,” Landon replied. “There are several reasons for that. Our killer might’ve assumed it didn’t matter. This could be a first-time killer. Or our killer didn’t want to get any gasoline on clothing or shoes that could be traced back.”

  I ran the information through my head. “Where was the butane?”

  “On the other side of the workshop door.”

  I frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. The fire was already raging when Thistle and I went in. We walked through that door. Nothing was on fire.”

  “And then you were quickly overwhelmed by smoke,” Landon pointed out.

  “I don’t like talking about this,” Chief Terry lamented. “It reminds me that she’s an idiot. I prefer pretending she’s still my little angel.”

  Landon smirked as I glowered.

  “I’m not an idiot,” I argued. “I was trying to save a man’s life. I bet you wouldn’t say things like that if I’d managed to pull Adam out alive.”

  “I’d still be saying them.” Chief Terry didn’t as much as crack a smile. “You could’ve been killed, Bay, and I don’t like thinking about it.”

  “I don’t like thinking about it either,” Landon supplied, perhaps sensing trouble. He looked uneasy. “We agreed to give her a pass this time. I don’t think this is a good time for an argument … because I just ordered a bacon cheeseburger and I want to eat it without getting heartburn.”

  Chief Terry grunted and shook his head. “You’re whipped. I don’t want to fight either, but you truly are whipped.”

  I cast Landon a sidelong look. “Do you think you’re whipped?”

  “Yup. I’m addicted to you, your mother’s cooking and now Aunt Tillie’s pig. You’re never getting rid of me.”

  “I like a man who can admit the truth.”

  “Yeah.” He swooped in and gave me a kiss. “Basically we’re still figuring things out. We don’t know if the new information means anything. It’s entirely possible that it’s not important.”

  “Well, you’re handsome and wise. You’ll figure it out.”

  “Oh, gross.” Chief Terry rolled his eyes when Landon rested his forehead against mine and grinned. “You two are officially disgusting.”

  “Says the guy who slept with my mother on the first date,” I shot back.

  A flush stole across his cheeks. “I thought we weren’t talking about that.”

  “I’ll stop talking about it when you stop calling me an idiot.”

  “Believe it or not, Bay, I don’t enjoy calling you an idiot. I love you. Always have. If something were to happen to you … .”

  He left it hanging. I didn’t need him to continue. The “I love you” was enough to melt my heart. “I promise not to run into a burning building again if I can help it. Is that enough?”

  He sighed and nodded. “For now. Let’s talk about something else. What did you do today?”

  “I spent the morning with Lorna putting together an article about Adam. The freaking birds returned.”

  Landon sat straighter in his chair. “Excuse me?”

  Uh-oh. I didn’t think that out before dropping the bird bomb. “They didn’t attack or anything. They were just outside the window … staring. They disappeared before I left. They’re beyond creepy.”

  “I’ll say. I knew letting you go there without supervision was a bad idea.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Supervision?”

  “There’s a danger alarm going off in the back of your brain right now,” Chief Terry volunteered helpfully to Landon. “It’s probably best you heed it and don’t make matters worse.”

  “That came out wrong.” Landon adjusted his tone. “I simply meant that it would’ve been wise for you to have backup. That’s not an insult. I just love you so much that I constantly want to be with you.”

  “Nice save.”

  “I thought so.”

  Chief Terry shifted on his chair and tapped his fingers on the Formica tabletop to get our attention. “Does someone want to explain about the birds?”

  I laid everything out for him. “And that’s not the only weird thing. Adam’s ghost was there and somebody had sewed his mouth shut,” I said. “There’s a whole dark magic thing going on, but I can’t figure out who is doing it or why.”

  The waitress had arrived to take my order and deliver Chief Terry and Landon’s food during my recitation so I helped myself to a fry from Landon’s plate. “I’m starving. Give me a bite of your burger.”

  Landon’s mouth was open in abject horror when I turned to him.

  “What did I say?” I asked defensively.

  “How does a ghost’s mouth get sewn shut?” Landon kept his burger out of my reach as he asked the question. “And you ordered a salad because you’re convinced the calories don’t count if you pick off my lunch. You’re stuck with your own lunch. You can’t have my burger.”

  I lobbed a glare in his direction and sipped my water before answering. “I don’t know how his lips were sewn shut. I could actually see the thread going through his skin … although he technically doesn’t have skin. You know what I mean.”

  “I do,” Landon confirmed. “That is freaking weird. I want you to stay as far away from Lorna as humanly possible.”

  “But … why?”

  “Because I don’t want your lips sewn shut. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy talking to you occasionally … when you’re not trying to steal my burger, that is.”

  “I don’t know that Lorna is responsible. I only know that it happened. She didn’t act as if she could see him. Of course, he appeared after she left and then disappeared again before she returned.”

  “Shouldn’t that be a sign that she’s responsible?” Chief Terry challenged. “I mean … that sounds pretty damning to me. Too bad we can’t arrest her because of birds and ghosts.”

  “I don’t know that I believe she’s guilty.” I couldn’t let the idea that I was missing a big part of the picture go. “I don’t know how I feel about any of this right now.”

  “I don’t either, but I want you safe,” Landon said. “What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?”

  “I’m going to the festival.”

  “Anywhere else?”

  “No, Mr. Bossy Pants.”

  “I hate to say it, but you really are getting more and more like Aunt Tillie.”

  “Just for that, I’m eating bacon without you.”

  “Oh, don’t be that way.”

  “I’m going to get all hopped up on grease and you won’t be around to enjoy it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “I guess that will teach you a lesson, huh?”

  LUNCH DONE, I HEADED to the festival. For every one story about murder and mayhem in Hemlock Cove I write ten festival stories. We have one almost every weekend. The only money coming into town comes from the tourist industry, so that’s simply become a fact of life.

  The festival was hopping for so early in the day. The town was crawling with witches, so it was an eclectic bunch. I greeted a few faces I recognized – while steering clear of Hazel – and was almost to the ice cream truck for a treat when I caught sight of Masterson.

  He wasn’t alone. There were two witches, one I didn’t recognize and the other I did, flanking him. The blonde on his right wore a shirt with a plunging neckline that put her ample assets on full display. The other woman was Evie, and she seemed determined to snag the board member’s attenti
on all for herself as she kept trying to box the blonde out of the conversation.

  I stared so long I lost track of time. Masterson shifted his gaze, as if sensing someone was watching him, and focused on me.

  “Hello, Bay.” He lifted his hand in greeting.

  I made a big show of shaking my head to cover my actions. I didn’t want him to know I was aware of his relationship with Lorna … at least not yet.

  “Sorry.” I offered up a bland smile. “I was just running through a mental to-do list and lost my train of thought.”

  “Happens to me all the time.” His grin was welcoming. “I love this festival, by the way. I hear a lot of this week’s guests are staying at The Overlook. That must be fun.”

  As far as I could tell, only a good fifty percent of the women claiming to be witches were the real deal. Of those, only ten percent had noticeable power … and Hazel was one of them. In truth, I hadn’t paid them much attention. Adam’s death was my primary concern. Still, sometimes white lies are the easiest way to go.

  “They’re tons of fun, but I’ve had only one meal with them so far,” I replied. “I don’t live in the inn. I live on the property, but I’m not there for every meal.” Almost every meal, but he didn’t need to know how deep my culinary laziness ran.

  “That’s great.” He flashed me one more smile and then turned back to his friends. It was clear he believed the conversation was over. That was just as well. I wasn’t sure I wanted to directly accuse him of having an affair with Lorna or wait it out. For now, I was content to let him do his thing … which apparently included looking down any shirt within close proximity. He wasn’t even sly about it.

  “What a pig,” I muttered as I turned to leave. I pulled up short when I caught sight of Nick Harris. I recognized him from the photos Lorna showed me when I was at her house earlier in the day. His hair was longer now and his gaze was sharp and focused … directly on Masterson.

  I sensed trouble, so I intercepted him when it looked as if he was going to approach the board member, flashing a bright smile that probably looked ridiculous to anyone who knew me. “So … how about some ice cream?”

  Nick blinked several times in rapid succession. It was obvious he didn’t expect to be interrupted. “What?”

  “Ice cream,” I repeated firmly. “I think you could use some … and I know I could.”

  Bewildered, Nick glanced around. “Are you talking to me?”

  “I am. Do you know who I am?”

  “You’re the chick who runs the newspaper.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet.” This time my smile was genuine. “I haven’t been called a chick in years. It makes me feel young at heart again.”

  “I … don’t … understand.”

  I wrapped my hand lightly around his wrist. “I still think you should come with me. Trustee Masterson isn’t going anywhere. I want to talk to you before you say anything to him.”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “How do you know I was going to talk to him?”

  “I know a great number of things, and some of them are even useful. Come on. Ice cream is always a good idea.”

  Doubt returned, clouding his glassy eyes, but finally he nodded. “Okay, but I don’t need any ice cream. I’m not a little kid.”

  “Ice cream isn’t for little kids. It’s for those who enjoy a tasty treat. I don’t think there’s an age limit on that.”

  HE OPTED FOR BLUE MOON WHILE I ordered chocolate, with hot fudge, whipped cream and a cherry. It wasn’t bacon, but I would make sure to rub it in with Landon later.

  “See. It’s better.”

  Nick’s expression remained dour but his lips were blue from the ice cream he’d been shoveling in. “It’s good,” he conceded. “I just … don’t know that I have much of an appetite.”

  He’d already eaten half of his bowl, so I didn’t believe that. Still, he was in mourning. It was best not to push him too far. “I’m sorry about your father,” I offered. “I genuinely liked him.”

  “He was murdered.”

  “I know.”

  “You were the one who went in after him, weren’t you? You and your cousin. The one with the green hair.”

  “It’s blue this week.”

  “Oh. I liked it green.” He looked momentarily wistful and then stabbed his ice cream. “I can’t believe he’s dead. I mean … it doesn’t feel real. I keep wondering if it’s a dream. I want to wake up if it is.”

  “I think that’s normal whenever anything bad happens,” I said. “When I was a little girl – much younger than you – my parents divorced and I kept hoping it was a dream for weeks.”

  “This isn’t a dream.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  He abandoned his spoon in his dish and focused on me. “Do you know who killed my dad? I asked my mother, but she’s kind of lost. She doesn’t really want to talk to us right now.”

  “That’s not true.” I immediately started shaking my head. “She wants to talk to you. It’s just … people react in different ways when they’re grieving. Right now, it’s hard for her to wrap her head around what happened. She can barely keep her own head up. Helping you guys probably feels overwhelming.”

  “She just sits in her bedroom and cries. I hear her through the door.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” I meant it. “I was with her this morning. I thought she was holding it together relatively well.”

  “Well, she’s not holding it together now. She’s all over the place … and I can’t stand it.” His eyes took on a hint of malevolence as he stared at Masterson. “It’s all his fault.”

  Oh, well, that answered that question. It was obvious Nick was aware of his mother’s relationship with Masterson. Did that mean he knew about Lisa, too? It was likely. I didn’t want to be the one to drop that particular bomb on him.

  “What’s his fault?” I asked feigning ignorance.

  “He’s been with my mom,” Nick growled. “They’ve been together for months. She doesn’t think I know … but I know.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  He shot me a “Well, duh” look. “What do you think?”

  “I think you have a right to be bothered,” I replied evenly. “I also think sometimes things happen in a marriage that don’t make a lot of sense. I know you’re angry with your mother … .”

  He cut me off with a firm shake of his head. “I’m not angry with my mother. I mean … I’m not happy with her, but I’m not angry with her. I’m angry with him. He … seduced … her. I think that’s the word, right?”

  Sure, if this was the Dynasty era. “I don’t know that I believe that. Have you talked to your mother about this?”

  “I’m not talking to her about it.” His cheeks flooded with color, the teenager he was on full display. “No way.”

  “Okay. I probably would have issues doing the same if I were in your position. What were you going to say to Masterson?”

  “I was going to punch him in the face for killing my dad.”

  “You think he killed your dad?”

  “Who else? He was dating my mother and my father wouldn’t let her have a divorce. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  I had news for him. He’d gotten some parts of the story wrong. Still, it wasn’t my place. “I think you should talk to your mother before you do anything. You don’t want to make matters worse.”

  “How could I possibly make things worse? My dad is dead.”

  “Things can always get worse. You really should talk to your mother. It’s important.”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head and rubbed his chin. “I don’t think I can do that.”

  “You should try,” I insisted. “I guarantee approaching Masterson is a bad idea. It won’t end well.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I come from a long line of impulsive people, and it very rarely ends well when we melt down in public. There’s a better way to handle this. Talk to your mother.”

  “I need to thi
nk about it.”

  “Good. Do you want more ice cream while you do your thinking?”

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

  Fifteen

  I greeted Landon with a choice when his shift ended.

  “We can either go back to the festival and you can eat so much bacon that you get the sweats again or we can head to the inn and eat pot roast and red velvet cake. Your choice.”

  Landon’s mouth dropped open in mock horror. “It’s like Sophie’s Choice.”

  I smirked. “I don’t care either way, but if we eat at the inn we’ll be close to home ... and bed.”

  “Are you anxious to be close to our bed because you’re feeling tired or frisky?”

  He wasn’t going to like my answer. “Well ... .”

  His fingers were gentle as they brushed my hair out of my face. “I’m tired, too. I didn’t realize how tired you looked until just now. Do you want to tell me about your day?”

  “Can it wait until we’re on the way home?” I cast a glance over my shoulder to make sure no one of consequence was listening. “I just want to get out of here.”

  He nodded without hesitation and pulled me to him. “Yeah. We’ll eat at the inn. I can have pot roast sweats just as easily as bacon sweats.”

  I snickered. “Good to know.”

  We walked to his Explorer in silence. He loaded me in on the passenger side — taking the time to open the door for me and fasten my seat belt — and then hopped behind the steering wheel. He didn’t press me for details as we drove to the inn, which I appreciated. Still, it was better to get it out of the way now.

  “So ... I saw Nick Harris this afternoon.”

  Landon’s forehead wrinkled as he stared out the windshield. “That’s the dead guy’s son, right? Why is that important? Did something happen?”

  “The whole thing is a mess.” I stared out the window as the foliage blurred. “He knows about his mother’s affair, but as far as I can tell he doesn’t know about his father’s relationship with Lisa. That seems weird because Dani brought up her father’s relationship.”

  “Maybe neither one of them said anything to the other because they didn’t want to upset anybody.”