A Breath of Witchy Air

by Amanda M. Lee

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Hmm.” Mom looked up and shook her head. “I wasn’t really looking at anything. I thought we were going to have a few open rooms this week – just one of those odd winter lulls we get from time to time because of the weather – but they all filled up today.”

  I wasn’t surprised in the least. “Yeah, well, I think I can guess why that happened. It seems Hemlock Cove is the new place to be because that stupid game is having some big battle in town this weekend. Everyone who is anyone and carries a phone to focus on rather than talk to people in real life will be here.”

  Mom wrinkled her nose. “Oh. That might explain a few of the conversations I heard this afternoon. I thought something else was going on – like maybe it was a Lord of the Rings convention or something – but I guess the game thing makes more sense.”

  “The town is crawling with people, and apparently The Overlook is the best spot to be if you want to collect magical items during this gathering.”

  Mom blinked several times, her expression remaining blank. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  I shrugged, uncertain. “If you want to stay sane, don’t ask too many questions. I made the mistake of trying to learn something about the game this afternoon and I’m still trying to decide if my brain imploded.”

  Mom chuckled, genuinely amused. “This is the game Aunt Tillie plays, right?”

  “And Thistle and Clove.”

  Mom creased her forehead. “Since when? That doesn’t seem like their thing.”

  “Thistle only signed up out of curiosity … until Aunt Tillie stole her skunk. Now they’re at war for domination of Hemlock Cove. Clove just wants a tiara.”

  I couldn’t decide if Mom was amused or annoyed by my take on things.

  “I see,” she said after a beat. “I guess it’s better for Thistle and Aunt Tillie to battle it out on the internet rather than in person. There’s less chance of bloodshed this way.”

  I wasn’t convinced of that at all. “I think they’re going to take things too far.”

  Mom exhaled hard enough to blow her bangs up. “Well, of course they’re going to take things too far. That’s what they do.”

  “So it doesn’t worry you that they’re going to spend the weekend going after one another?” Either Mom was mellowing or she’d been replaced by a body snatcher. I was leaning toward the latter.

  “I’m not worried at all.”

  I stared at her for a long moment.

  “Fine. I’m worried a little,” Mom conceded. “But they’re adults. They won’t take things too far.”

  Oh, now I knew she’d been replaced by a pod person. “Have you picked up day drinking without telling anyone?” I asked.

  Mom scowled. “If I was going to start day drinking it would’ve been when you were a teenager. I just happen to believe that Aunt Tillie and Thistle won’t take things too far. If you think that makes me naïve, so be it.”

  “I think you’re massively naïve, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” I dragged a hand through my hair and turned when I heard the front door open. It was my turn to scowl when Landon skirted through the opening with Chuck Ashton at his heels. “I’ll leave you to your guests,” I muttered, sliding away from the duo.

  Mom made a face as she watched me escape. “Since when don’t you and Landon play kissy-face the moment you see one another?”

  “Since he started hanging out with morons,” I answered.

  Landon eyed me, contemplative, before shaking his head. “Don’t worry, Winnie. We’ll be playing kissy-face in five minutes or so. I just need to warm her up some.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.” Mom pasted a welcoming smile on her face for Ashton’s benefit. “You must be the agent Landon’s boss called to secure a room for. He didn’t give me a name, but said you would be with Landon.”

  “That’s me.” Ashton beamed as he introduced himself. “I’m thrilled to be here. I can’t wait to have dinner. I’ve heard nothing but raves about the food.”

  “Oh, really?” Mom preened under the compliment, which sort of made me want to kick her for being disloyal. “Who have you been talking to about our food?”

  “Well … Landon, of course.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “He’s only saying that to get into your good graces, Mom,” I hissed, grinning when Landon shot me a warning look. “Landon was clearly worried I would turn you against Chuck, so he fed him some lines to soften you up.”

  Mom was confused. “Why would you turn me against Chuck?”

  “He’s a sexist pig.”

  “Oh, geez, is this about the secretary thing?” Ashton unleashed a smile that I’m sure charmed many a woman. He was playing to the wrong crowd this time. “It was an honest mistake.”

  “What’s ‘the secretary thing’?” Mom asked.

  “It’s not important.” Landon moved closer to the desk and fixed me with a “don’t make things worse than they have to be” look. “Bay has had a long day. She needs a glass of wine, a long game of kissy-face and some cake. She’ll be back to normal after that.”

  Mom didn’t look convinced, which meant she probably wasn’t a pod person after all. “Yeah. Good luck with that.” Mom pushed the register to Ashton. “Sign in. You’re in room seven on the second floor. I’m sure Landon can help you with your bags.”

  Landon balked. “Since when am I the concierge?”

  “I don’t know.” Mom’s expression was innocent. She didn’t know exactly why I was upset, but she wasn’t willing to let it go. “Maybe it happened about the same time Bay became the secretary.”

  Landon scowled. “Ugh. You’re all going to make this a difficult night, aren’t you?”

  Mom nodded without hesitation. “Probably. You should prepare yourself.”

  I LEFT LANDON TO SHOW Ashton to the second floor – I figured any reason to keep distance between me and the man was warranted – and poured myself a glass of wine in the library. I was hopeful Landon would abandon Ashton the first chance he got, but I was bitterly disappointed when Ashton followed Landon into the library a few minutes later.

  “Wow. There are actual books in here.” Ashton looked over the hard-backed volumes on the shelves. “I didn’t know anyone still had real books.”

  “I will kill him before the night is out,” I warned, guzzling half my glass of wine as Landon poured one for himself and settled next to me.

  “Just remember you’ve already had one hangover this week. A second might push you into lush territory.”

  “It might be worth it.”

  “It might not be worth it.” Landon sipped his wine and regarded his co-worker with unveiled annoyance. “Sit down, Chuck. You’re making everybody nervous by hovering the way you do.”

  Ashton looked over the room with forced coolness. “Who is this everybody you speak of? I only see you and the secretary.”

  I was almost on my feet without realizing it, but Landon squeezed my knee to keep me in place.

  “Bay, he’s only saying that to drive you crazy. You’re not helping by being such an easy mark. Just … ignore whatever he says.”

  That was easier said than done. “Or maybe he could stop saying stupid crap,” I suggested.

  “Who is saying stupid crap?” Thistle asked, strolling into the room with Marcus on her heels. She had her phone clutched in her hand and a quizzical look on her face. The look disappeared when she got a gander at Ashton. “Oh, you must be Upchuck. I’ve heard a lot about you. None of it good, by the way.”

  Thistle didn’t wait for Ashton to respond, instead turning her full attention to me. “You haven’t seen Aunt Tillie, have you?”

  “Not since I was downtown. She didn’t come back with me.”

  “She might still be down there,” Landon offered, his lips curving at the way Ashton glared at Thistle. “Someone should probably be in charge of making sure she comes back to the inn every night. As long as she’s obsessed with that g
ame she’s liable to lose track of time.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to pass on that job,” Thistle said dryly. “No one wants to be Aunt Tillie’s babysitter.”

  “It’s better than her being our babysitter,” Clove argued as she strolled into the library. “Why is everyone in here? I’m starving and Sam is already at the table.”

  “We were having drinks before dinner,” I supplied. “Why are you in such a mood?”

  “Because I’m angry with Thistle. She stole my tiara.”

  “You didn’t need that tiara anyway,” Thistle shot back. “You’re not a princess. You’re a gnome.”

  “I could be a princess if you’d stop stealing things from me.”

  “That sounds like absolutely no fun.” Thistle was blasé enough that I could tell Clove was about to explode. “Does someone want to pour me some wine?”

  “I’ll do it,” Clove offered.

  “You’ll spit in it,” Thistle shot back. “I don’t want you to do it.”

  “I’ll get your wine,” Marcus barked. The shadows under his eyes and weariness creasing his face told me he’d already had a long day. “There’s no need to melt down.”

  “Nobody should melt down,” I agreed. “I hate it when people melt down.”

  “You’ve melted down at least three times since I’ve met you,” Ashton pointed out.

  “Who is this guy?” Clove gestured at Ashton with a derisive jerk of her thumb.

  “I’m Chuck Ashton.”

  “Oh, Upchuck.” Clove made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “Yeah, we already don’t like you.”

  I was understandably curious about how a nickname had already caught on for a guy I’d just met. “Who started calling him ‘Upchuck’?”

  “And when will you stop calling me that?” Ashton added. “I’m not a fan.”

  “Aunt Tillie sent out a text,” Clove replied. “She said she was cursing anyone who didn’t call him that. We have bigger things to worry about – like stolen tiaras – so we didn’t want to risk it.”

  I’d managed to complain to Aunt Tillie for only two minutes before she lost interest in the conversation. Apparently she was listening harder than I thought. “I kind of like it.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Chuck offered up a smile that was halfway between a grimace and a sneer. “I would appreciate it if you called me Mr. Ashton or Chuck. Either one is acceptable.”

  “Didn’t you call our cousin a secretary?” Thistle challenged.

  “What’s wrong with being a secretary?” Ashton practically exploded.

  “Nothing,” Thistle replied. “There’s nothing wrong with being a secretary. Bay isn’t a secretary, though. You assumed she was because she’s a woman. That’s rude and obnoxious.”

  “Yeah,” Clove chimed in. “How would you like it if we assumed things about you just because you’re a man? I mean … you look like the sort of guy who has back hair. How would you like it if we started calling you that?”

  Ashton made a face. “I do not have back hair.”

  “I heard a rumor once that all guys with red hair have small penises,” Thistle supplied, pouring more wine into her glass as she avoided making eye contact with Ashton. I had a feeling that was because she knew she would burst out laughing at the pathetic look on his face if she accidentally snagged his gaze. “How would you like it if we spread that rumor around town?”

  “Yeah, you can be Undersized Upchuck,” Clove added. “I think it has a nice ring to it.”

  Chuck’s face flushed with color as he looked to Landon for help. “Do you want to say something?”

  Landon remained calm, his arm around my shoulders. “Not really.”

  “They’re being very aggressive.”

  “I warned you what would happen after you persisted with the secretary remark.”

  “But that was funny,” Ashton argued. “She got all red in the face and I thought she might actually cry or something.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t almost cry.”

  “You did, too.”

  “I did not.”

  “I think he’s saying that because you’re a woman,” Clove offered helpfully. “Men always think women are going to burst into tears at any moment simply because they have ovaries.”

  “Oh, geez.” Ashton made a face only a five-year-old child would find appropriate. “Why did you have to mention ovaries?”

  “Fine. It’s because we have vaginas,” Clove corrected.

  “That’s not better.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. It was probably a good thing The Overlook’s part-time worker (and full-time lodger) Belinda was out of town with her daughter Annie. They took a late holiday break to visit with friends and weren’t due back for another week. This conversation definitely wasn’t appropriate for tiny ears.

  Sensing my mirth, Landon leaned forward and skimmed his lips over the ridge of my ear. “I might still kind of be mad at you,” I warned.

  “You’re not. You know I have a job to do.”

  “Yes, but Upchuck – and that’s a lovely name I’m going to thank Aunt Tillie for introducing the second she gets here – is a terrible person, and I didn’t like that you took his side.”

  “I didn’t take his side. I simply refused to take any side. Like it or not, we need him, Bay.”

  “Did he find anything?”

  “He’s still looking. Now that we’ve confirmed the girls weren’t sexually assaulted, we need a motive even more than before.”

  I was surprised. I thought for sure the motivation for the murders would be sexual. “You’re sure?”

  Landon nodded. “I am. The medical examiner says three of the girls were still virgins. They weren’t violated in that manner.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “It is for them. At least I hope it was for them. Being sexually assaulted would’ve made things worse. It does make things murkier when it comes to the investigation.”

  “So where will you look now?”

  “Chuck made some headway hacking the game, but he’s not there yet.”

  “Have you considered simply asking the developers for a list of players?”

  “We have. In fact, we sent a formal request. So far we haven’t gotten a response back.”

  “So what happens if all the girls were playing the game?”

  “Then we hopefully use the game’s GPS tracker to figure out where they were right before they disappeared,” Landon replied. “If we can watch them on the game screen, we can see who was close to them when they went dark.”

  “Do you have time of death yet?”

  “It might be impossible to get an exact time of death on this,” Landon cautioned. “The fact that they were frozen due to the weather makes it difficult. We don’t know if they were kept alive a bit or if they were killed instantly. We have a lot of variables.”

  “And Chuck is going to solve the problem of the variables for you?”

  “Chuck is going to get us into the game so we can look around,” Landon corrected. “We’re not sure what to expect, and if even one of those girls wasn’t playing the game, that means we’re probably looking in the wrong direction.”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “What makes you say that?” Landon looked genuinely curious.

  “It’s this feeling I have in my stomach.”

  Landon rested his hand on my abdomen. “And what does your stomach say?”

  “That the game is responsible.”

  “Does that mean you think the killer will be in town this weekend playing because of the big battle thing?”

  That was a very good question. “I don’t know. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “It does. I want you to be doubly careful because of that.”

  “You don’t have to keep reminding me to be careful,” I said. “I always try really hard to be careful.”

  “Sometimes I don’t think you try hard enough. You have a healthy
streak of curiosity and sometimes that takes over before you even realize that you’re about to lose yourself.”

  “I won’t let that happen this time.”

  “That would be nice.” Landon linked his fingers with mine and grinned when he heard a noise – something that suspiciously sounded like a door slamming with enough force to shake half the main floor – at the front of the inn.

  “Thistle!”

  Thistle jerked her head, her grin evil. “And let the games begin.”

  “What is going on?” Ashton asked, alarmed.

  “Aunt Tillie is home,” Landon replied, downing the rest of his wine. “Things are about to get a whole lot worse for you.”

  Ashton rolled his eyes. “This place is nutty.”

  “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

  Twenty

  Mom corralled Aunt Tillie before she could storm into the library and raise a ruckus. By the time we made our way into the dining room, Aunt Tillie was seated in her usual spot at the head of the table and most of the guests – all young people with phones – took up positions at the opposite end.

  I didn’t blame them. Even when she was in a good mood Aunt Tillie was unbelievably scary.

  Landon sat next to Aunt Tillie, leaving the spot to his right for me. I almost groaned when Ashton picked the spot on my right, his earlier discomfort forgotten as he took in the heaping mounds of food at the center of the table.

  “I can see the food talk at the office wasn’t exaggerated.” Ashton speared two slices of pork loin and moved them to his plate. “This smells great.”

  Mom smiled, although it didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. “Yes, well, we aim to please.”

  “The food here is always good.” Landon was doing his best to be amiable as he dished mashed potatoes onto our plates while I snagged the pork. “I’m surprised I’m not wearing bigger pants after eating here so often for the past year.”

  “You live here now, right?” Ashton didn’t notice the dirty look Aunt Tillie shot him. “I would eat here three times a day if the food was always this good.”