4 Witching On A Star

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I did,” Clove agreed.

  “Huh,” Thistle mused. “You should run a seminar on how to do that. People would pay big bucks to let you cure their codependence.”

  “Do you really think so?” Clove’s eyes sparkled with interest.

  “Absolutely,” Thistle nodded enthusiastically and then rolled her eyes in my direction when Clove looked away.

  “You guys want to help me?” Clove asked.

  I pursed my lips to keep from laughing. “Wouldn’t that be the opposite of breaking the codependent streak?”

  Clove considered the question seriously for a second and then scowled at me. “You’re just trying to confuse me.”

  “Big shocker there,” Thistle mumbled.

  “What?” Clove asked suspiciously.

  “I was asking Bay what her idea was,” Thistle changed the subject.

  “I told you that I don’t want to know,” Clove said angrily.

  “I wasn’t asking for you, I was asking for me,” Thistle argued. “Not everything is about you.”

  “No, apparently it’s about you,” Clove shot back.

  “You’re bugging me,” Thistle sniped.

  “You’re both bugging me,” I interjected impatiently.

  “Oh, yeah,” Thistle turned back to me. “What’s your idea again?”

  “I think we should do a summoning spell,” I announced boldly.

  Thistle didn’t look impressed. “Why?”

  “To call the boat.”

  “Huh,” Thistle rolled the idea around her in mind. “Do you think we can do that?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I think it’s worth a try, though.”

  “A summoning spell only works to call energy,” Clove countered. “A boat is an object, not energy.”

  “We don’t know that it only works on energy,” Thistle shot back. “We just know we’ve only used them to summon energy. That’s actually not a bad idea.”

  “It’s not going to work,” Clove said.

  Thistle ignored her. “People are made of energy,” Thistle said, her eyes flashing with intrigue as she watched me. “What if we actually combined a summoning spell with a command spell?”

  “What’s a command spell?” Clove narrowed her eyes.

  “She means a hypnosis spell,” I said.

  “A hypnosis spell?” Clove looked flummoxed. “We haven’t used one of those since high school. Don’t you remember? We used it on Coach Bailey to convince her we were always on our periods so we wouldn’t have to participate in gym and it backfired and she had some sort of meltdown because she thought she was hemorrhaging?”

  “We’re older now,” Thistle replied, although she smirked evilly at the memory. She had always hated Coach Bailey.

  “We’re smarter now,” I added.

  “We’re not any smarter now,” Clove scoffed. “If anything, we’re dumber.”

  “We could ask Aunt Tillie,” Thistle said after a moment, although she didn’t look thrilled at the prospect.

  “No way,” I shook my head. “I don’t want her involved in this.”

  “I’m not going to be involved in this either,” Clove said angrily.

  “Good for you, Sparky,” Thistle said and then turned back to me. “Can we do a hypnosis spell if we have no idea who we’re trying to hypnotize?”

  “It’s not going to be a hodgepodge spell,” I reminded her. “It’s going to be something we create. And, if it doesn’t work, then there’s no harm done.”

  “What if it does work?” Clove asked.

  “Then we’ll save a boatload of kids,” Thistle reminded her.

  Clove sighed. “I want to save the kids, too,” she said quietly. “Say the spell works and we pull them into the dock,” she plowed on. “What happens then? Are we going to take on a boatload of human traffickers by ourselves?”

  “We’ll be able to see if the spell is working in plenty of time to call Chief Terry and Landon,” I pointed out pragmatically. “They can be waiting with cops on the docks when the boat arrives. We won’t technically have to do anything or be in any danger.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” Clove bit her lower lip. “Why don’t we tell them now what we have planned?”

  “What if it doesn’t work, Doofus,” Thistle smacked Clove up the backside of her head. “Then we’ll just look like idiots wasting the time of the police when they’re trying to track down this boat. We can’t pull them off what they’re doing until we know it is working.”

  “And how are Landon and Chief Terry going to explain how we managed to call a boat to shore?” Clove challenged us.

  “We’ll call anonymously,” Thistle said simply.

  I pointed in her direction in agreement. “That’s exactly what we’ll do.”

  “I don’t know,” Clove whined.

  I ignored her indecision and took the opportunity to answer my cell phone when it rang in my pocket. I recognized Landon’s number. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Landon greeted me. “Where are you?”

  “Having lunch with Thistle and Clove at Hypnotic,” I lied.

  “It’s ten in the morning,” Landon said after a beat.

  “So? I’m bored. I’d rather spend the two hours before lunch with them instead of dodging Sam,” I said. “It’s just a really long lunch.”

  “You’re not up to something, right?” Landon sounded worried.

  “We’re not up to something,” I snapped, manufacturing some fake ire to sell my point. Thistle flashed me a thumbs up from across the room.

  “I’m in Traverse City,” Landon started.

  “I know.”

  “I talked to my boss.”

  “Is he going to help?”

  “He’s going to try to get increased patrols on the lake,” Landon said, although is voice was oddly flat.

  “Why don’t you sound happier about that?”

  “He gave me a lecture about believing anonymous sources.”

  “Oh,” I murmured. “So, if this doesn’t work out, it’s going to blow back on you?”

  “Probably,” Landon said tiredly over the phone. “Anyway,” he continued. “I don’t want you to worry about that.”

  “Then why are you calling? Did you miss me that much?”

  “If I say yes will you roll in bacon grease for me?”

  “No,” I frowned, all hints of amusement fleeing my features. The bacon thing was getting old really quickly.

  “Ah, well, I had to try,” Landon lamented. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be late tonight.”

  “You’re not coming back?” Disappointment bubbled up.

  “No, I’m coming back,” Landon said hurriedly. “I’ve just decided to have dinner with my brother before I come back over. He has something to tell me and, truth be told, I haven’t seen him as much as I used to and I think he’s feeling a little bit neglected.”

  Guilt roiled in my stomach. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Landon seemed surprised by my sudden apology.

  “Well, you’re not seeing him because you’re constantly over here.”

  “I like being over there.”

  “Still,” I said, realization dawning in my mind. “I think you should stay over there and spend a few hours with him.”

  “You do?”

  “I do.”

  “Why are you changing your tune all of a sudden?” Landon asked suspiciously.

  “Because I feel guilty about keeping you away from your family,” I lied smoothly. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re not spending time with them.”

  “And this has nothing to do with some idiotic idea you’re scheming up with Clove and Thistle?”

  “None whatsoever,” I replied succinctly.

  Landon was quiet on the other end of the phone for a second. “You’re not lying to me, right?”

  “I’m not lying,” I was starting to get legitimately frustrated with him now. Sure, I was technically lying, b
ut he didn’t know that and it was annoying to have him constantly accuse me of things I hadn’t even done yet.

  “Okay,” Landon said softly. “I’m sorry I’m being so . . .”

  “Mean?” I suggested.

  “I was going for the word suspicious.”

  “Mean works, too,” I said.

  “Okay,” Landon relented. “I don’t want to fight. I’m going to keep in touch with the Coast Guard via cell phone tonight, so if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “And you’re going to stick close to Thistle and Clove, right?”

  “I thought you didn’t want me running around with them?”

  “I don’t want you running around alone more,” Landon admitted.

  “I’ll be with Thistle and Clove,” I said, glancing over at my cousins and their bemused faces. “I can promise you that.”

  “Make sure you keep that promise,” Landon said.

  “You got it.”

  “Okay,” Landon said finally, although I could tell he was still troubled. “I’m going to let you go.”

  “Okay,” I said with faux breeziness.

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I’ll see you tonight,” I agreed.

  I disconnected the phone and turned to Clove and Thistle incredulously. “He’s so untrusting.”

  “That’s because you just told him a big pack of lies,” Clove said.

  “They’re not lies,” I countered. “I promised I would stay with the two of you and I’m sticking close to the two of you.”

  “You also said you weren’t up to anything,” Clove reminded me.

  “That’s very nebulous,” I replied. “That could mean anything.”

  “Or nothing,” Thistle suggested.

  “Exactly,” I agreed.

  “We’re terrible,” Clove sighed.

  “Oh, yeah,” Thistle agreed grimly. “We totally suck.”

  “So, you’re not telling Marcus what we’re doing either?” I asked sagely.

  “No way,” Thistle shook her head. “He’d rat us out to Aunt Tillie in ten seconds flat.”

  “God, we really do suck,” I whined, running a hand through my hair in frustration.

  “We’ve always sucked,” Clove said. “It’s a sign of maturity that we can recognize it now.”

  I didn’t verbally agree with her but, in my mind, I was nodding away. “Let’s get to writing a spell,” I said decisively.

  This had to work. And, if it didn’t, we were all going to be in a lot of trouble – and buried under an entire mountain of suck.

  Thirty-Three

  Guilt is a funny thing. When you don’t think about it, you can easily ignore it. When you know you’re doing wrong, though, it can cripple you.

  I was currently in that hazy area in the middle. I kept trying to tell myself that I wasn’t really lying to Landon – but I wasn’t sure I actually believed my own internal monologue constantly professing my innocence.

  “You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you keep doing that,” Thistle said, watching me from her spot at the sink in The Overlook. We were currently in the kitchen slicing bread. Our mothers had already taken the rest of dinner out to the table.

  “I’m not doing anything,” I lied.

  “You’re feeling guilty about lying to Landon,” Thistle countered. “It’s written all over your face. That’s why you keep scrunching your face up in that constipated look when you think no one is looking.”

  “I’m not lying to Landon,” I said irritably.

  “I didn’t say you were,” Thistle said. “I think you think you are, though.”

  “It’s not really a lie, right?” I turned to her hopefully.

  “You told him we weren’t up to anything,” Thistle shrugged. “We’re always up to something, so it’s technically a lie.”

  I visibly blanched.

  “Of course,” Thistle jumped in hurriedly. “He knows we’re always up to something, so he was just setting you up for failure. This is really his fault.”

  Huh. “Yeah, we’ll go with that,” I agreed, picking up the breadboard and moving towards the dining room. “That was a really good point,” I paused before moving through the door. “Thanks.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “What are you here for?” My mom asked curiously from her spot at the dining room table. I noticed she was sandwiched in between Chief Terry and Aunt Tillie. I couldn’t figure out how she always managed to secure a spot next to Chief Terry when Marnie and Twila were always vying for one, too. I had a feeling it was equal parts bossiness and moxie.

  “To tell Bay what she wants to hear,” Thistle shot back easily.

  “That’s what you’re here for?” My mom furrowed her brow. “To tell Bay what she wants to hear?”

  “Basically,” Thistle agreed. “And to bring sunshine and light to Hemlock Cove with my very existence.”

  “What are you two up to?” My mom narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

  “Why do people always ask us that?” I grumbled.

  “Because you’re always up to something,” Marnie offered. I noticed that Dean was eating dinner at the inn again, and he was sitting between Marnie and Clove. He was watching the family exchange with keen interest.

  “We’re not always up to something,” I argued.

  “Clove,” Marnie turned to her daughter. “What are you three up to?”

  Clove colored under Marnie’s sudden attention. “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because whatever they’re up to you know about,” Marnie said. “You three can’t keep a secret from one another. And you’re the snitch, so that’s why I asked you.”

  “I wonder where we learned that from?” I said with snarky delight.

  “I’m not a snitch,” Clove replied angrily.

  “Sit down and eat your dinner and stop embarrassing me,” my mom ordered, plastering a fake smile on her face as she turned to Chief Terry. “So, what’s new in Hemlock Cove these days?”

  Chief Terry glanced at me nervously. “Not much,” he said. “Just the usual stuff. Some Coast Guard patrols in the area searching boats over some anonymous tip and, oh, Rob Quinlan got arrested again.”

  “What for?” My mom asked curiously.

  “He moved Old Man Preston’s car.”

  “That doesn’t sound like something worth arresting him for,” Twila mused.

  “Old Man Preston didn’t give him permission,” Chief Terry supplied.

  “Oh, well then,” Twila said. “So it’s just a normal day for Rob, huh?”

  “So, he’s a car thief?” Sam asked from his spot at the far end of the table.

  “Car thief is a bit of a stretch,” Chief Terry said. “He has trouble remembering what’s his and what’s not his.”

  Sam looked surprised. “That’s called a thief.”

  “He’s just misunderstood,” Chief Terry brushed off Sam’s judgmental assumption. “Everyone in town knows that Rob has sticky fingers.”

  “And you just accept that?” Sam looked incredulous.

  Chief Terry fixed Sam with a hard stare. “You’re looking at it like it’s the big city,” he said. “This is a small town, and we’re loyal to one another.”

  “Even a car thief?” Sam didn’t pick up on the cold cues Chief Terry was casting about.

  “He doesn’t always steal cars,” Thistle said. “Sometimes he steals horses.”

  “And tractors,” I added.

  “And there was the time he stole the Shepherd family’s storage shed,” Clove interjected.

  “He stole a storage shed? Why?”

  “Maybe he had things to store,” Chief Terry shrugged. “He gave it right back when we went to get it.”

  We all glanced up at the door separating the dining room from the lobby when the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted the flow of conversation. I was surprised to see Kenneth – a big clump of wildflowers clutched i
n his hand – standing at the door.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Kenneth said, his gaze fixed on Aunt Tillie.

  “I didn’t know you were invited,” my mom hedged curiously.

  “He wasn’t,” Aunt Tillie huffed.

  “I thought there was an open door policy on dinner here,” Kenneth glanced around the room for support, his craggy face falling on me finally. “Isn’t that right?”

  Something about Kenneth’s earnestness tugged at my heart. I wanted to help him – and it wasn’t just because he kept toppling Aunt Tillie from that mountain she liked to preach from.

  “That’s usually the rule, Kenneth,” I said carefully. “Maybe there’s not enough food or something?” I turned to my mom challengingly.

  “Of course there’s enough food,” my mom openly chastised me. “There’s always enough food.”

  “Then there must be some other reason Kenneth isn’t invited to dinner,” I mused. “What would that be?”

  My mother frowned at me. “Kenneth is always welcome at dinner,” my mom said finally. “Kenneth, take a seat.”

  “Great,” Kenneth replied excitedly, stripping off his coat and slinging it over the back of the open chair on the other side of me and dropping his flowers on the hutch behind us. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  “He’s in Traverse City having dinner with his brother,” I said.

  “Oh, that sounds nice,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I guess I’ll be your boyfriend for the night.”

  “I guess so,” I laughed.

  Aunt Tillie was practically fuming at the head of the table. “Don’t you get fresh with her,” she warned Kenneth. “She’s way out of your league. Everyone here is way out of your league.”

  “You didn’t say that when he asked you on a walk earlier,” I reminded her. “In fact, I believe the last time I saw you the two of you were strolling arm and arm around the grounds like teenagers in love.”

  Aunt Tillie glared at me.

  “Why didn’t I know about this?” My mom asked. As a bossy control freak, she was incensed by the prospect of something happening on the grounds that she didn’t know about. In truth, we were all like that, though.

  “You put me in charge of the construction,” I said. “I thought that meant I was in charge of the construction people?”

  “How is that relevant?” My mom narrowed her eyes at me. I could tell she thought I was trying to trick her – which I totally was.