Happy Witchgiving: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hillman said, resting his hand on Bay’s shoulder to still her. His wife remained silent at his side. “I think we should all stay right where we are.”

  “Take your hand off her,” I growled. “Don’t touch her.”

  “Don’t worry, daddy bear,” Hillman said. “I have no inclination to hurt the girl. I just want her to stay close so you don’t get out of line.”

  “Chief Terry?” Bay’s face was a mask of fear and confusion.

  “Stay there, Bay,” I said. “Stay close to your aunt.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Tillie said, grabbing Bay’s arm and dragging her a few feet from Hillman, practically daring him to call her on the action when she shot him a challenging look. “We’ll all be fine. I’ll make hot chocolate once we get inside.”

  “You don’t cook,” Clove pointed out.

  “Then I’ll watch you make it and show you where your mothers hid the Christmas tree cookies,” Tillie countered. “Now … be quiet.”

  “You know, I’m pretty sure this doesn’t involve us,” Charles said. “Maybe we should … I don’t know … go back inside and let you guys sort this out. How does that sound, Roger and Carol?”

  Were those the Hillmans' first names? I couldn’t recall ever hearing them. All I remembered of the couple was a general unpleasantness whenever they spoke. Well, actually that wasn’t true now that I reflected upon it. The husband seemed nice and the wife seemed nasty. It was probably an act on both of their parts.

  “I think you should shut up, Charles,” Roger said. “You’re not a part of this, but you really did cause this whole thing. If you’d stayed in your room Carol and I could’ve made our getaway and no one would’ve been the wiser.

  “Instead you had to make a spectacle of yourself and get these girls all riled up,” he continued. “That got the cop riled up because he thinks they walk on water. This is really your fault when you think about it.”

  “We just wanted some pot,” Charles complained. “We didn’t mean to get involved in this.”

  “I still want to know how you found out about that,” Tillie said. “If someone has been talking out of turn … .”

  “We heard a few of the teenagers talking at the coffee shop downtown,” Carol offered. “They claimed you had a lot of it. We didn’t think you’d miss it if we pinched a little.”

  “Which kids?” Tillie narrowed her eyes. “I’ll just bet it was that Stillwater kid. I caught him poking around the other day. I thought he was here sniffing around the girls, but I think I might’ve read him wrong.”

  “Is that really important?” My voice sounded unnaturally high. “We need to focus on the problem at hand.”

  “Relax,” Tillie said. “Don’t freak out. Everything will be okay.”

  Was she trying to calm me down? I was the professional here. I forced my eyes back to Roger. “What’s your plan? Why are you even out here?”

  “We hid a few things in the shed,” Roger replied. “We had no idea that they would punish these … children … by having them clean it. It was too late to do anything about it, though, so we were hopeful they didn’t find our stash.”

  “We checked, though, and the money is gone,” Carol said. “They took it. We were trying to get them alone, but they’re never alone. They’re either fighting with adults or talking to you.”

  “And we’re out of time,” Roger added. “So, girls, where is our money?”

  I was furious. There was no way around it. The girls found money in the shed and didn’t tell anyone. Instead they kept it and put all of us at risk. I was going to ground all of them before the night was over. As long as everyone survived, that is.

  “We didn’t take your money,” Bay said, making a face. “There was no money in there.”

  “Someone took our money,” Roger argued. “You were sent out here to clean the shed. Do you think I believe your lie for one second?”

  “Don’t call me a liar,” Bay hissed. “We didn’t take your money.”

  “Heck, we didn’t really clean the shed,” Thistle said. “We sat out here and gossiped for two hours and rearranged the pots. There was no money. Trust us. We looked.”

  “Yeah,” Clove said. “We thought Aunt Tillie might’ve put money out here, but she took it before we got a chance to look.”

  That’s when things shifted into place. The girls weren’t liars. They were still my little angels. Well, er, kind of. Tillie was the one to blame. I turned my attention to her, trying to read her blank features. She was a master liar when she wanted to be, and it looked as if she was about to put on a show.

  “I took your money,” Tillie announced.

  Seriously? Every single time I think I have her figured out she proves me wrong. I just … quit. I’m done. I can’t deal with this.

  Bay’s eyes locked with mine and she offered me a small smile. It was almost as if she was encouraging me, telling me everything would be okay. I was the one who was supposed to be protecting her. She had faith in me. What the heck was I going to do?

  “You took our money?” Roger asked, dubious. “How did you manage that?”

  “It’s quite simple really,” Tillie replied. “The girls stole wine from me and hid it out here. I knew they did it, and I also have a tendency to hide my money in odd places and then forget about it.

  “I came out here before they were assigned to clean the shed and reclaimed my wine,” she continued. “I also searched for money so they couldn’t steal it. I found some. I assumed it was mine.”

  That actually made sense. How frightening is that? I cleared my throat to draw Roger’s attention. “I’m sure Tillie will return your money if you leave the girls here,” I said. “There’s no need to make this worse than it is. You can get the money from her and take off. I’ll give you an hour to get out of town.”

  “That’s cute,” Roger said. “I’m not sure I believe you, though.”

  “You don’t have to believe him,” Tillie prodded. “You have to believe me. Don’t I look trustworthy?”

  “You look like a hobbit,” Carol said.

  “Hey!” Thistle scorched the woman with a dark look. “I’m the only one who can say things like that to her.”

  “It’s okay, Mouth,” Tillie said, resting her hand on Thistle’s forearm. “I have a feeling they’re going to learn a thing or two about karma before the night is over. Calm yourself.”

  “So are you going to give us our money?” Roger asked.

  I was relieved. He sounded reasonable. If Tillie handed over the money everyone would be safe.

  “Not a chance,” Tillie replied. “You stole it from innocent people. It’s not your money. You didn’t work for it. I’m not giving it back.”

  Seriously? The powers above must hate me. There can be no other explanation. “Tillie,” I gritted out, shooting her a warning look. “Do as they ask.”

  “Um, no.” Tillie shook her head hard enough her combat helmet shifted off-center, making her look even more ridiculous than before.

  “Um, no?” Roger was irked. “How about I shoot you? Will you tell me where my money is then?”

  “Nope.”

  “Tillie!”

  She ignored me and remained focused on Roger. I didn’t miss the almost imperceptible shift as Bay, Clove and Thistle joined hands behind her. They were up to something witchy. I just knew it.

  “I want my money, old lady,” Roger seethed, leveling the gun on her. “If you don’t give it to me, I’m going to shoot those brats behind you. I’ll start with the mouthy one.”

  “You’ll have to be more specific,” Tillie said. “They’re all mouthy.”

  “I think he’s talking about me,” Thistle said.

  “I’m definitely talking about her,” Roger agreed.

  “Well, in that case, I’m going to have to say … bite me.”

  Bay, Clove and Thistle giggled as Roger’s temper flared.

  “Don’t make me kill those kids, lady!
”

  As if on cue, a huge roar of thunder filled the night air and I shifted my eyes to the sky as surprise washed over me. The darkness lifted as lightning flashed three times in quick succession. A thunderstorm in November? That never happens.

  “What the … ?” Roger turned his attention to the heavens, which gave me the opening I needed. I threw myself in his direction, knocking his hand up and away from the girls should he squeeze the trigger and unleash a stray bullet. Carol screamed out a warning, but it was too late. “Oomph.”

  We hit the ground hard and I slammed my knee into Roger’s stomach to knock the air out of him before pounding his wrist against the ground to dislodge the gun. Carol watched the scene with wide eyes for five seconds before turning to flee. Tillie was having none of that, which was a godsend because I couldn’t control both of them. Instead of unleashing magic, though – which I was thankful for – she instead picked up the flashlight I discarded while attacking Roger and lobbed it in Carol’s direction.

  Now, granted, I never figured Tillie for a softball player, but she had some nice arc. I’m sure magic helped, but it wasn’t so obvious I would have to make up a lie for a report. The flashlight clobbered Carol on the back of the head, pitching her forward. She didn’t move once she hit the ground face first.

  Roger sputtered as his mouth met dirt, and I wrestled him to a supine position, using my bigger frame to pin him in place. Once I was sure he wasn’t going anywhere, I glanced at the Winchesters, who seemed more excited than frightened. “Is everyone okay?”

  Bay beamed. “That was so cool.”

  “You’re all in trouble when I get this settled,” I said. “Each and every one of you is going to be punished severely for not staying inside like I told you.”

  “We can’t wait,” Thistle deadpanned. “I think it’s going to be the highlight of our night. After this awesome storm, of course.”

  I scowled. “Go inside and call the station. Have them send backup.”

  “I’m on it, partner.” Bay saluted before racing toward the house. She seemed downright giddy.

  “Good job,” Tillie said. “We’re quite the team.”

  “Yes, I was just thinking the same thing,” I said dryly.

  “I’ll handle the hot chocolate and you handle the cleanup,” Tillie said, turning on her heel and walking toward the house. “I think that’s the best way to divvy up the labor.”

  That sounded like a great idea to me.

  BY THE time I reentered the inn I was exhausted. Tillie stood next to the couch where the girls were sprawled and staring at a blank space on the wall, their eyelids heavy and dark circles under their eyes.

  “What are you girls doing up?” I asked. “I thought you’d be in bed.”

  “We want to hear what happened,” Bay said, brightening, but only marginally. She looked exhausted.

  I heaved out a heavy sigh as I sat next to her, smiling as Clove made enough room so I could get comfortable but not so much that she wasn’t resting her feet against my thigh. “The Hillmans have been taken into custody,” I replied. “The Garveys – and that is their real name and they had no idea it has ties to Little House on the Prairie, so you were wrong there – have headed to Torch Lake early. I let them off with a stern warning.”

  “I’ll handle them,” Tillie said. “Don’t worry about that.”

  Funnily enough, I was more than happy to let her handle that problem. “Sure. Whatever.”

  “What about the Hillmans?” Thistle asked, yawning as she rolled to rest her head in the spot next to Clove’s. “Will they be locked up forever?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will we get to testify?” Bay looked excited at the prospect.

  “Probably,” I replied, stifling my own yawn. “Seriously, though, why are you girls still up?”

  “They wanted to see you,” Tillie said. “Bay refused to go to bed before you came inside. That meant the other two wouldn’t leave her. As for me, now that you’re here, I’m going to retire. My old bones can’t take much more creaking.”

  “You’re going to need to give me that money in the morning,” I said. “There are people up north who need it.”

  “I have no intention of stealing,” Tillie said. “I honestly thought it was mine.”

  “Thank you.” I watched her head toward the stairs, my mind screaming for sleep as my body protested the idea of getting up. “Thank you for keeping them safe and … doing whatever you did out there.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Tillie countered. “You saved them. You’re the one who put your life on the line to take out the man with the gun.”

  “And you’re the one who made it storm.” It was an absurd statement, but I knew it to be true.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tillie said, winking. “Get a good night’s sleep, though. Winnie, Twila and Marnie woke up long enough to see what all the fuss was about and then went back to bed. They plan to cook up a storm for their hero tomorrow.”

  My cheeks colored at the “hero” reference. “I’m nobody’s hero.”

  “Oh, no?” Tillie cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Look around, Terry. You have three fans who say otherwise.”

  I shifted my eyes to both sides of me, finding Bay already asleep with her head on my shoulder and Thistle and Clove slumbering on my other side. They looked like angels – even though I was pretty sure they were really devils in angel costumes. Despite that, my eyes misted.

  “Take care of our girls,” Tillie said, climbing the stairs. “They’re going to be unbelievably obnoxious tomorrow.”

  “Why is that?”

  “They were right about someone evil staying at the inn. We’re never going to hear the end of it.”

  “Yes, but they were wrong about who was evil,” I pointed out.

  “They won’t remember that part,” Tillie said. “All they’ll remember is the way their blood pumped and how happy they were to curl up with their hero on the couch for the night.”

  For the entire night? Did she expect me to stay here with them until morning? I didn’t get a chance to ask the question because when I got up the nerve she was already gone. I turned back to the girls, their light snores and sighs lulling me.

  Oh, what the heck, right? There are worse ways to spend a night. I slid lower on the couch and smirked when Bay shifted her head to get more comfortable. She never moved it from my shoulder. Okay, this wasn’t so bad. It was actually kind of nice.

  Tomorrow was Thanksgiving after all, and after tonight I was more thankful than I’d ever been.

  “Goodnight,” I murmured.

  No one answered, but I knew they were already happy in dreamland, thinking up ways to torture their family tomorrow. I was just happy I managed to land on the family list. I was even looking forward to the torture.

  What a day. What a night. What a life.

  I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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  About the Author

  I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my novels. I have a particular brand of humor that isn’t for everyone – and I know that.

  If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. There’s a lot of snark and sarcasm in my world – and I know some people don’t like that.

  Special thanks go out to Heidi Bitsoli and Phil VanHulle for correcting the (numerous) errors that creep into a work of fiction.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance t
o actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  An Avery Shaw Mystery

  Who, What, Where, When, Die

  If it Bleeds, it Leads

  Buried Leads

  Shot Off The Presses

  The Preditorial Page

  Misquoted & Demoted

  Headlines & Deadlines

  Misprints & Mistakes

  A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery

  Any Witch Way You Can

  Every Witch Way But Wicked

  Witching You Were Here

  Witching on a Star

  Something to Witch About

  Witch Me Luck

  Life’s a Witch

  Charms & Witchdemeanors

  A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short

  Careful What You Witch For

  Wicked Brew

  On a Witch and a Prayer

  You Only Witch Once

  The Christmas Witch

  Bewitched

  A Solstice Celebration

  Witchdependence Day

  A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy

  Witchy Tales

  An Aisling Grimlock Mystery

  Grim Tidings

  Grim Offerings

  Grim Discovery

  Grim Reunion

  Covenant College

  Awakening

  Whispering

  Conjuring

  Waxing & Waning

  Graduating

  Living Covenant Trilogy

  Rising Covenant

  Dark Covenant

  Eternal Covenant

  A Mystic Caravan Mystery

  Freaky Days

  Freaky Lies