A Breath of Witchy Air

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Yeah,” Thistle agreed. “Chill out … and shut up.”

  I heaved out a sigh. “Fine. Are you in the game yet?”

  “I’m setting up my profile.”

  “Try using a photo of yourself as your avatar. I’m still annoyed Aunt Tillie used me.”

  “At least she thinks enough of you to use your photo,” Clove fired back.

  “You chill out, too,” Thistle ordered, never looking away from her screen. “Okay. My profile is set up. I used that photo of me when I was standing behind Aunt Tillie and flipping her off.”

  “You can’t use that,” I protested. “You’re playing with kids.”

  “I guess they’ll learn to avoid my finger if they want to live.” Thistle touched her screen a few times. “Huh. There are like five items in Hypnotic alone.”

  “What kind of items?”

  “It’s a magic game. It looks like I have a ring, a sword, a little animal that looks like a rabid skunk, a pair of boots and a crown.”

  “Oh, put on the crown,” Clove instructed.

  “I don’t want to put on the crown. It’s ugly.”

  “It’s still a crown.”

  “If you want to wear a crown, load the game on your phone and find your own crown,” Thistle barked. “This is my crown … and it actually looks more like a tiara than a crown. That means it’s a lame crown.”

  “I might just do that.” Clove hopped to her feet and stomped behind the counter, muttering the whole way. “Tell me to find my own crown. Just you wait, I’m going to totally find my own crown and it’ll be better than your crown. I’m going to find something better than a skunk, too.”

  Thistle and I exchanged amused glances as she moved to sit next to me on the couch, tilting her phone so I could see the screen. “Look at this. If what I’m reading is correct, these little glowing orb things mean that ten people are playing the game on this street alone.”

  “I didn’t even know anyone was playing the game until the day before yesterday and now it seems as if everyone is playing.”

  “That’s because they all want crowns,” Clove muttered, intent on her phone.

  I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. Her reaction was so typically … well, Clove … it made me glad we could spend as much time together as we wanted despite the change in our living situations.

  “What the … ?” Thistle shifted on the couch and cursed under her breath.

  “What’s wrong?” I turned back to her. “Did Clove get a better crown than you?”

  “I’m working on it,” Clove sang out. “Mine is going to have diamonds and rubies.”

  “And your rear end is going to have the imprint of my foot if you’re not careful,” Thistle shot back. “Someone just stole my skunk.”

  “Stole it?” I had no idea what to make of that. “Like … how?”

  “You can raid other people’s bags – which is where they store their stuff – if things aren’t locked properly,” Thistle seethed. “I had no idea that was a thing until this … jerkwad … just stole my skunk.”

  I couldn’t quite muster sympathy for her predicament. “Do you know who stole it?”

  “Just the color. Hold on.” Thistle touched her screen and frowned. “Someone named ‘Bad Witch 25.’”

  I chewed my bottom lip and swiveled to look out the front window. I wasn’t surprised in the least to see Aunt Tillie, her fake raccoon hat perched on her head (tail hanging in her eyes). She offered a gleeful grin and waved at Thistle, her delight evident.

  “I’ll kill that old lady.” Thistle threw her phone on the couch and hopped to her feet. “You’d better start running now, Aunt Tillie! I want my rabid skunk back.”

  I considered calling out to stop her – mostly because she was going through the door without a coat – but I knew she was capable of taking care of herself. Instead, I picked up the phone and stared at the game screen.

  There was something odd about the game – more than the obvious – although for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what. I only knew something felt off and I was determined to find out what.

  Fifteen

  Landon poked his head into Hypnotic about forty minutes after I got there.

  “Do something with Thistle and Aunt Tillie,” he barked.

  I arched an eyebrow as I looked him up and down. That wasn’t much of a greeting. “What do you expect me to do with them?”

  “You’re a powerful witch. Curse them or something.”

  I snorted, genuinely amused. “Aunt Tillie says I’m a powerful witch. At best, I’m a dabbler.”

  “Well … stop dabbling and do something.” Landon was serious. “They’re making a scene outside and that’s the last thing I need.”

  I furrowed my brow as I snagged my coat, leaving Thistle’s phone behind on the couch as I followed Landon outside. I didn’t immediately see anything that would be cause for concern, but my ears couldn’t be fooled when I took two steps out onto the sidewalk and finally heard Thistle’s dulcet tones.

  “Give me my skunk or I will make you wish I’d never been born, old lady! In fact, screw that. I’ll make you wish you’d never been born … or just kill you myself!”

  I pressed my lips together and slid a sidelong look to Landon. “I see what you mean.”

  “I don’t think you do,” Landon countered, gesturing toward the vehicle pulling into the police department parking lot. “Do you know who that is?”

  “I’m not psychic.”

  “You talk to ghosts so I don’t believe that’s true.”

  He was quickly starting to agitate me. “How far do you want to push this?”

  Landon’s lips curved as he chuckled. “You’re crabby.”

  “Thistle often makes me crabby … and Aunt Tillie almost always does. Why am I supposed to care who’s in that vehicle?”

  “It’s Laura Patterson’s parents.”

  “Oh.” I instantly sobered. “I didn’t realize you had meetings set up with the parents.”

  “We’ve already talked to everyone else. Those conversations happened in their homes. The Pattersons live more than an hour away and were out of town when news came down about their daughter.”

  The discomfort rolling through my stomach caused me to squirm. “I’m not sure what to make of that.”

  “You don’t have to make anything of it. I simply prefer Aunt Tillie and Thistle not make a scene in front of grieving parents.”

  I nodded. “I’m on it.”

  “Good.” Landon headed back to the police station but paused before stepping from the curb. “Are you hanging around Hypnotic because you’re afraid to be at The Whistler alone? I can do some of my work from your office this afternoon.”

  I made a face and shook my head. “I’m not afraid. The more I think about what happened, the more I feel sorry for Brian. He’s downright pathetic for doing what he did. That doesn’t make me afraid of him.”

  “He’s worse than pathetic. I’m totally going to smack him around if I see him again,” Landon grumbled. “What kind of adult vandalizes the place where he used to work because things didn’t go his way?”

  “I think he’s bitter.”

  “That doesn’t make he did all right.”

  “No. But I’m not afraid.”

  “Even though the sun catcher showed up in a place and manner it shouldn’t have?”

  I held my hands palms up and shrugged. “I can’t be afraid of something when I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to fear.”

  Landon’s stare was appraising. “Sometimes you say profound things.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “Sweetie, you still manage to surprise me at least once a week.”

  I warmed a bit at his flirty smile. “That’s nice.”

  “Yeah. I’m a nice guy.”

  I smirked and waved as I turned the corner, frowning when I found Thistle and Aunt Tillie staring each other down about twenty feet away. “What are you two doing?” I was frustrated as
I stopped next to them. “You’re making a scene.”

  Aunt Tillie shot me a withering look. “So?”

  “Yeah. You act like that’s out of the ordinary.” Thistle rubbed her arms to ward off the cold. “Why do you care if we’re making a scene?”

  “Because that man and woman are Laura Patterson’s parents.” I pointed at the couple heading into the police station. Their heads were down and I could practically feel the sadness rolling off them from two hundred feet away.

  “Who’s Laura Patterson?” Aunt Tillie asked blankly.

  “She’s one of the dead girls, you idiot.” Thistle’s eyes flashed. “Now give me my rabid skunk.”

  “It’s not a skunk. It’s a ferret.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Not even close.”

  Thistle leaned forward and growled. “Give me my skunk or I’ll make you cry.”

  “Oh, you and what army?”

  I grabbed Thistle’s arm before she could do … well, whatever it is she was going to do. She often threatened Aunt Tillie with physical harm, but I’d yet to see her follow through on the threat. “Knock it off,” I warned, keeping my voice low. “Those people are dealing with the absolute worst thing they’ll ever have to face. Their daughter is dead, murdered and dumped in the snow like trash. Show some respect and forget about the stupid game.”

  Thistle had the grace to look abashed as she lowered her arm and nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Good.” I marginally relaxed. “So … .”

  I didn’t get a chance to finish because Thistle exploded, grabbed Aunt Tillie’s arm a second time, and took me by surprise with her vehemence. “I’ll relax as soon as this old biddy gives me my skunk.”

  “Try to catch me,” Aunt Tillie bellowed, taking off down the sidewalk with Thistle in pursuit. Thankfully they headed in the direction opposite the police station. That was something I could be grateful about.

  THISTLE RETURNED TO HYPNOTIC twenty minutes later, her skin practically blue from being outside without a coat. She sat on the couch and bitterly complained to anyone who would listen about the Infinity Echo theft. Since no one cared about her plight she basically sat on the couch and talked to herself.

  We ordered lunch, ate soup and sandwiches, and I bade them goodbye before slipping out the door and heading toward The Whistler. I was determined to get something done this afternoon, although I was at a loss as to what.

  I crossed the street and debated wandering into the police station to see if Landon and Chief Terry had more information to share. That was an iffy proposition given the presence of the state police – who had never been overly fond of an outsider’s presence – but I was curious enough to press the issue.

  I was on the front walkway and heading toward the door when it opened to allow Laura Patterson’s parents an opening to exit. I faltered and openly stared at the bereaved couple as they made their way along the sidewalk. They were almost on top of me before I realized I looked like an idiot and hopped out of the way so they could pass.

  The woman, her face pale and waxen, nodded in thanks and kept walking. Her husband slowed his pace and met my gaze, something unreadable washing over his features. I felt uncomfortable enough to lower my eyes. That didn’t stop the man from approaching me.

  “You look familiar.”

  Oh, well, good. This was exactly what I needed to make my day complete. “I get that a lot,” I offered quietly. “I guess I have one of those faces.”

  “No. That’s not it.” The man narrowed his eyes as he looked me up and down. “You’re in several of the photographs on the chief’s desk and shelf. I recognize you. Are you his daughter?”

  “Oh.” I was absurdly relieved he didn’t want to question me about finding his daughter’s body in the snow. That would’ve been an awkward conversation and I wasn’t in the mood for anything more awkward than listening to Thistle and Aunt Tillie argue over a virtual skunk. “He’s a very close friend.”

  “But not your father.”

  “No. Not my father.”

  “I see.” The man rolled back on his heels as he regarded me. “He looked at the photo of you when I asked how my daughter’s body was discovered. He said someone – not who, but someone – was out on the highway because there was an accident and she found my daughter’s body. He looked at your photo when he said it, which made me think you discovered my Laura.”

  Well, crap on toast. Apparently we were going to have an uncomfortable discussion after all. “You’re Mr. Patterson?”

  “Russell Patterson.”

  “I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr. Patterson.” I meant it. “I did discover the bodies in the snow. I’m … sorry.”

  Russell arched an eyebrow as he regarded me. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t kill her.”

  “No, but … .” I had no idea what to say. Thankfully Mrs. Patterson picked that moment to rejoin her husband and took the onus of the conversation off me.

  “What are you doing, Russell?” She looked frail. “I want to go home. I don’t want to be here.”

  “We’re going home, Helen.” Russell gave his wife a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I was just talking to the woman who found the bodies – I mean, found Laura – for a moment. I have a few questions. They won’t take long.”

  Helen’s eyes lit with interest. “You found Laura?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. “I did.”

  “How?” Helen pressed. “We asked the chief, but he was vague about it. I thought that was odd.”

  “I’m sure he was simply trying to protect me. As for how, I’m the only reporter for The Whistler.” It was only after I said the words that I realized they were wrong. “I mean … I’m the owner of The Whistler,” I corrected.

  Russell and Helen merely stared, waiting for me to continue.

  “I was out there to cover an accident,” I explained. “There were a lot of residents on the highway because a truck overturned and spilled beer all over the road. I was several hundred feet back so I could take a photograph of the wreckage. That’s when I stumbled across the first … girl. She was separated from the others.”

  “I see.” Russell swallowed hard. “Did you see her on the ground?”

  “No. I tripped over her shoe.”

  Helen cringed. “How awful.”

  “It was. I think I was in shock at first. I kind of just stared. It was one of those times when you can’t find your voice. Chief Terry was close, but I had trouble calling out to him.”

  “You said the first girl was separated from the others,” Russell noted. “What about the others?”

  “Once the first girl was found the state police sent evidence teams and there was some … um, debate … about how to get her out of the snow.”

  “Yes, thank you for painting that rosy picture for us,” Helen drawled, bitterness practically dripping from her tongue.

  “It’s not her fault, Helen,” Russell chided. “I asked. She’s clearly uncomfortable and doing her best. Don’t give her grief. It’s not her fault.”

  I was grateful he took up for me and ashamed all the same. He shouldn’t be worrying about me. “While they were working I headed to the side of the road. I don’t know what I was looking for. I’m not even sure I was really looking for anything. I just knew that given the way the wind blew in that area, if there was any evidence that escaped it would’ve ended up by the trees.

  “I was just looking so I could tell the evidence teams if I saw something,” I continued. “That’s when I found the other bodies.”

  “Our Laura was one of those bodies,” Russell noted. “What can you tell me?”

  The question caught me off guard. “I don’t know. I called for help right away and then Chief Terry sent me away because he said I shouldn’t be there.”

  “Because you’re a reporter?”

  “Because … he knew he had a lot of work to do and it was a very serious situation,” I replied after a moment’s contemplation. “I did
n’t want to be in the way and he certainly didn’t want me to get in the way.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  At least it made sense to someone. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Russell waved away my weak words as his wife looked at the ground, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “You didn’t do anything to cause this situation. You shouldn’t blame yourself.

  “In fact, we’re grateful to you,” he continued, his tone unnaturally gruff, as if he were fighting back tears. “If you hadn’t found her she might’ve been abandoned out there for a long time before we could put her to rest. We appreciate you finding her.”

  “We do,” Helen agreed, her throat choking with emotion. “You have no idea how grateful we are. It’s just … she was our daughter. She was a good girl. It’s hard for us to wrap our heads around.”

  They didn’t realize it but they’d given me an opening. “She was a student in Gaylord, right?”

  Helen nodded. “She worked at the beauty store – the one out on the main highway – in her free time. Between work and school she was gone about sixty hours a week. She stayed with her grandmother most weeknights because it was more convenient.”

  “Did she hang around with anyone specific at the school?”

  “She was kind of a loner,” Russell replied. “It wasn’t that she was unfriendly so much as focused. She knew what she wanted to do with her life and was dedicated to making sure she got the work done.”

  “She wanted to be a nurse,” Helen explained. “She was getting her basic classes out of the way here – and saving money on room and board by staying with her grandmother. She came to our house on weekends, but during the week it was easier for her to stay in town.”

  “We didn’t mind it,” Russell added. “She was a great help to her grandmother, who is getting up there in years, so it was a nice tradeoff. Now I can’t help but wonder if we somehow made a mistake letting her go off on her own.”