“You’d better suck down a lot of it then,” Aunt Tillie said. “You’re going to need your energy for what I have planned today.”
That was the sort of statement that caused shivers to run down my spine. “And what are we doing?”
“Looking for buried treasure. Thistle will meet us at the campground in an hour. We’re taking the canoe across again. I’m going to find whatever it is that Margaret thinks she’s going to put her grubby hands on.”
“That’s trespassing,” Chief Terry noted.
“Does anyone here care about that?” she asked pointedly.
“I don’t.” Landon reached for the bowl of eggs. “In fact, I think it’s a good idea.”
“You do?” Chief Terry couldn’t contain his surprise. “Why do you think that?”
“If they can find something out there, it might give us a clear motive. Right now we’re flailing, and that’s a feeling I hate.”
Chief Terry rubbed his chin and focused on Aunt Tillie. “Just one thing ... wait, look who I’m talking to.” He switched his attention to me. “Don’t get caught out there,” he admonished. “Try to fly under the radar. If we get a call and have to check it out, we’ll have to explain things that we don’t want to explain. Got it?”
I nodded, feigning solemnness. “Got it. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, please. If I had a nickel for every time you or your great-aunt told me that and it blew up in my face I’d be a rich man.”
“Yes, but your life would be boring without us.”
He grinned. “That’s true. I guess you’re better than the money.”
“That’s my philosophy,” Landon agreed, stuffing his face. “Text us if you find anything good. Otherwise, be careful. And try to stay away from Dani. She shouldn’t be involved in this.”
On that, we wholeheartedly agreed.
Nineteen
Trips with Thistle and Aunt Tillie were never quiet. Today, the arguing started the second we reached the campground. Thistle was already in a foul mood because Dani was giving her grief. Aunt Tillie’s presence only served to exacerbate things.
“I don’t see why I can’t go with you,” Dani argued, following me around the campground as we readied to leave. “You have enough room in the canoe for four people.”
“That’s true.” I handed Thistle a backpack. “It’s not safe for you to go over there.”
“Why not?”
“Because two women have been murdered over there.”
“Yeah, but they had ties to each other, right?” Dani showed no sign of backing down. “I don’t have ties to them or anything they were doing, so I’ll be fine.”
It was a rational argument. That didn’t change the fact that I couldn’t very well watch my back should Dani attack if I was already looking for Valerie’s ghost. “It’s not safe.” I hated that I had to use the old standby. I sounded like my mother. I was one step short of telling her it was a school night.
“This isn’t fair.” Dani stomped her foot and turned toward Aunt Tillie. “I want to go with you.”
“Well, we can’t always have what we want,” Aunt Tillie noted. “The world doesn’t work that way. You have to get used to disappointment.”
Dani narrowed her eyes. “I’m serious.”
“I never would’ve guessed.” Aunt Tillie’s gaze was shrewd as she looked around. “Where is that green bag I brought?”
“This one?” Thistle lifted the bag in question from the canoe.
“That’s it.” Aunt Tillie’s lips curved. “Make sure that’s in a spot where it won’t get wet.”
I was instantly suspicious. “What do you have in there?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Aunt Tillie handed Thistle another bag. “I think that’s it.”
“I will worry about it,” I argued. “I want to know what you have in that bag. Is it something bad? Why can’t it get wet?”
“Because I don’t want to blow up.” Aunt Tillie climbed into the canoe without another backward glance. “Get us in the water,” she demanded.
I worked my jaw, debating how far I should push things. Thistle decided to tackle the matter before I could make a decision, but she focused on something else. “Are those seashells on your leggings?”
Aunt Tillie nodded. “Why?”
“Because they look like wrinkled, old man ... things.” She twirled her finger in the air, as if that was supposed to explain something.
Aunt Tillie snorted. “Oh, please. These look nothing like wrinkled, old man things. You need to watch some porn or something if you think these shells look phallic.”
“I’m confused why you went for shells,” I said, pushing the canoe. “That seems a little tame for you.”
“No.” Aunt Tillie let out a huff and stood, shifting so I could see the front of the leggings as she lifted her shirt. “This is why I bought them.” When she gestured toward the crotch of the leggings I almost fell over. Not only was there a huge shell there, but it had what looked to be some sort of weird sea creature poking out its head.
“Holy ... .”
Thistle laughed so hard I thought she might fall out of the canoe. “Is that why you’re wearing such a long shirt? I wondered.”
“I don’t want Winnie confiscating another pair of leggings,” Aunt Tillie explained as she sat in her seat. “You have no idea what a pain she is.”
“I have some idea,” I countered. “She’s my mother.”
“Yes, well, she thinks she’s the queen of the universe. I’ve had it with her. I’m thinking of cursing her until she leaves my leggings alone.”
“Just don’t make her smell like a cheeseburger,” I suggested, grunting as I shoved the canoe as hard as I could.
Puzzlement creased Aunt Tillie’s forehead. “Why?”
“That’s Chief Terry’s favorite meal.”
Wickedness started rolling off my great-aunt in waves. “Hey, thanks for the tip.”
“That was not a tip.”
“It was in my head.”
AUNT TILLIE USED HER MAGIC TO POWER the canoe. It took only a few minutes to reach the other side of the lake. I suggested paddling further down the shoreline so we could hide our things in the shade of a weeping willow. Only someone who was truly looking would be able to find what we’d left behind.
“What’s really in this?” Thistle asked as she handed Aunt Tillie the green bag.
“I already told you. It’s dynamite.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, it is not. You only said it was explosive to mess with Dani. What’s really in there?” Speaking of Dani, I flicked my eyes back to the shore we’d been on only minutes before and found her standing exactly where we’d left her. I couldn’t see her face over such a great distance, but I could feel her rage washing against the beach with each wave.
Aunt Tillie stared at me blankly when I turned back to her.
“I’m serious,” I prodded.
“It’s dynamite,” she insisted.
“Right.”
“It’s probably another pair of pornographic leggings,” Thistle said. “She’s got a thing for them. I’m not sure where she finds them, but I keep waiting for her to come up with a pair of Star Wars leggings so she has lightsabers poking out of her hoo-ha.”
The visual made me laugh. “There’s your next pair, Aunt Tillie.”
“Laugh all you want, but I would totally wear the crap out of those,” Aunt Tillie said, starting up the steep incline. She was in her eighties and generally pretty spry, but she struggled with the hill. Wordlessly, Thistle and I each grabbed an arm to help her the rest of the way.
“I totally could’ve done that myself,” Aunt Tillie groused as soon as we were at the top of the hill.
“We know,” Thistle and I said in unison, our eyes already busy scanning the trees.
“Which way do you want to go?” I asked. “I’m assuming you want to stick close to the house.”
“Not really.” Aunt Tillie looked in the opposite di
rection. “I want to go that way.”
“Into the woods?” I asked dubiously. “If I remember correctly, it’s pretty hilly there.”
“Which is exactly why a pirate would want to hide his booty there,” Aunt Tillie insisted. “Think about it. If you were trying to hide something of great value, would you put it in the flat spot where anybody could find it, or in there?”
She had a point. Still, though ... . “I don’t think I would hide money out here regardless. That seems like a bad idea. That’s just me, though.”
“My adventurous spirit totally skipped you.” Aunt Tillie made a clucking sound as she shook her head and started walking. “You wouldn’t believe how many jars I have buried around our property. That was the thing to do back in the day.”
I was taken aback. “Um ... wait. Are you saying you have jars of money buried on the Overlook property?”
“No, I have jars of money and magic buried on my property. Don’t forget, girls, I own most of that land. I let your mothers pretend they’re in charge because I don’t like doing menial labor ... like paying bills.”
“I see.” I glanced over her head at Thistle, who looked dubious.
“Why would you bury money in jars when you’re so old and could die at any moment?” Thistle queried. “I mean ... all that money is going to go to waste if you croak tomorrow. That’s pretty stupid.”
“I’m middle-aged,” Aunt Tillie fired back. “I’m not dying anytime soon.”
“Of course you’re not,” I soothed, scuffing my feet against the ground as we continued through the trees. I had no idea what we were looking for, but I kept my eyes trained on the ground for signs of disturbance. “Can I ask you guys something?”
“Sure,” Thistle answered automatically.
“No,” Aunt Tillie responded.
“Don’t you at least want to hear the question before you shut me down?” I challenged.
“Um ... no.” Aunt Tillie shook her head and suddenly veered to the right. “This way.”
I slowed my pace. “How do you even know where to look?”
“I have what you might call mental magic.” She tapped the side of her head for emphasis without slowing. “I’m so smart my brain can’t be housed entirely inside my head, so there’s excess floating around. Sometimes it picks up on little things that nobody else notices.”
That sounded unlikely. “Well ... neat.”
“Oh, you’re so full of crap you should double as a Porta-Potty,” Thistle shot back. “You’re just wandering without any sense of purpose. We’re not going to find buried treasure if we go about it like this.”
“Do you really think we’re going to find buried treasure regardless?”
“Of course we are,” Thistle replied, not missing a beat. “Think about it. Mrs. Little wants this property so much she’s salivating. There must be a reason.”
I’d been thinking about that. “What if she just wants to live on a lake?”
“She’s allergic to water,” Aunt Tillie countered. “She doesn’t care about the lake.”
“She’s not allergic to water,” I scoffed.
“Then why does she smell that way?”
“I ... you’re just saying that to be persnickety.” I opted to change course. “I’m just saying that it’s possible Mrs. Little doesn’t have ulterior motives. Maybe she always dreamed about living on this lake and thought she had a golden opportunity when the campground came up for sale. It’s entirely possible that she was broken-hearted when she realized Landon and Aunt Tillie snaked it out from under her.”
Thistle and Aunt Tillie shot me twin looks of disgust.
“Grow up,” Aunt Tillie said, adjusting our trek to the right yet again. “You must be slipping in your old age or something, because that’s definitely not what’s going on here. Margaret is an evil person. What do evil people want, Thistle?”
“To carry out evil deeds,” Thistle replied perfunctorily.
“That’s right.” Aunt Tillie beamed at her as if she were Peg and had just done a trick. “Margaret is evil. If she wants this place, it’s because she has evil deeds on her mind.”
“If you say so.” A nearby tree caught my attention. The leaves on the ground at its base had been disturbed. I made my way to it. They’d ignored my earlier question, so I decided to ask it again. “Can I ask you guys something?”
“I would really rather you not,” Aunt Tillie replied. “We’re here for a specific reason, not to listen to you ask questions that you think are witty and insightful but are really boring and tedious.”
I pretended I didn’t hear her response as I ran my fingers over the ground. It looked as if someone had walked through this area recently, but there was nothing more than a few light tread patterns to lead me to that conclusion. “Do you ever think Landon is weird?”
Neither Thistle nor Aunt Tillie immediately responded, causing me to slowly raise my eyes and seek them out. “What?” I asked self-consciously when I found them both staring at me.
“You just asked if we thought a man who would rather dress you up as a slice of bacon than watch you slink around in lingerie is weird,” Thistle noted. “And, oddly enough, it’s the second time this week you’ve asked that question.”
Aunt Tillie snorted and put out her fist in an effort to get Thistle to bump it. She’d been desperately trying to get us to play that game after watching an NBA matchup two weeks ago and deciding it was the “hip” new thing. “Good one.”
Thistle gave her a “not in this lifetime” look and moved to a fallen tree. “Why are you asking if we think Landon is weird?”
“Well ... .” I could’ve kept it to myself. Part of me knew it was the right decision. The other part, though, was feeling antsy. I needed a second opinion.
I told them. I explained about the drawer and how he acted. I made sure they knew he went back to acting normal immediately after. When I finished, Aunt Tillie was the first to roll her eyes.
“You’re such a whiny baby sometimes,” she complained.
I made a face and focused on Thistle. “It’s not weird that I’m worried, is it?”
Unlike our great-aunt, Thistle took a more measured approach — at least for her. “I don’t know that I would use the word ‘weird,’” she started, clearly choosing her words carefully. “The thing is ... Landon loves you.”
“I know Landon loves me.” Suddenly, I was feeling defensive. “It’s not that I don’t think that he loves me.”
“Then what is it?”
“Well ... what if he has something freaky in his sock drawer?”
“Aunt Tillie once kept a poisonous snake in her sock drawer and we still hang out with her,” Thistle pointed out.
“That snake wasn’t poisonous,” Aunt Tillie argued. “He just had a bad attitude.”
Thistle planted her hands on her hips. “I looked that snake up online. It was definitely poisonous.”
“Ugh. You’re such a kvetch. Now that Clove is married, are you going to take over as the resident kvetch? I should’ve seen that coming.”
Thistle ignored her and kept her eyes on me. “Have you considered that he might’ve had something he simply didn’t want you to see?”
My eyebrows practically flew off my forehead. “Um, yeah! Why do you think I’m so worked up? I mean ... what if he had photos of another woman in there? What if he had a second cell phone because he’s been working undercover as a spy? What if there were diamonds or something that he stole from a crime scene hidden in his socks?”
“Oh, well, I was wrong,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned. “You’re clearly the new kvetch.”
Thistle flicked her ear to silence her. “Or he had a dirty magazine in there. Maybe he had some weird sexy bacon massage oil he wanted to surprise you with. Maybe he had a gift in there for you and he’s holding onto it for a special occasion.”
That hadn’t occurred to me. “The bacon oil sounds most likely.”
“It does,” she agreed. “Why are you jumping to
the worst possible conclusion?”
That was a good question. “Because I’m agitated,” I replied. I didn’t need introspection to come up with an answer. I already knew. “Landon is making noise about Dani. He’s right. She’s a danger to him ... and Chief Terry ... and Clove. I shouldn’t be helping her because she’s already crossed the line. And yet I can’t help myself.”
“You can’t help yourself because she’s still a kid,” Aunt Tillie volunteered. “It’s the age screwing you up. If she was an adult, you would be over it already. You would be preparing to do what needs to be done.”
“And what is that?” I was almost afraid to hear her answer.
“We either have to kill her or bind her powers,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Those are pretty much our only options.”
A whoosh of air escaped my lungs and my eyes practically popped out of my head. “Bind?” Why hadn’t I thought of that? Was I so far gone I’d missed the obvious answer? “That’s right. We can bind her powers.” I was talking to myself, but that didn’t stop the others from responding.
“We can,” Aunt Tillie agreed. “I’ve already got Thistle ordering special herbs for us. They should be here in a few days. I think we all agree the kid isn’t going to get any better. The safest thing we can do is strip her of her magic.”
“And you’re certain we can do that?” Thistle challenged. “I mean ... that’s not something we can screw up if we want people to remain safe.”
Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “I’m not a novice. I know how to bind someone’s powers. The spell is powerful, but we have more than enough witches to carry it out, even if Clove’s powers are malfunctioning because she’s a walking hormone.”
“You’re all heart,” Thistle said, poking Aunt Tillie’s side and grinning.
“I forgot all about binding her powers,” I admitted, some of the weight I’d been carrying for the past few weeks lifting. “I thought the only choice was killing her.”
“Well, that’s a dark thought,” Aunt Tillie drawled. “We’re not assassins, Bay. But there will be another matter to deal with if we strip her powers. She’ll be out for vengeance. She’ll come gunning for us when she realizes.”
To Love a Witch Page 19
