“I didn’t make a wish.” Sam’s cheeks flooded with color. “Why would you think something like that? Wishing wells are for children. I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re a strong and sensitive man, and I’m so glad you found my daughter,” Marnie said, twisting a lock of Sam’s dark hair around her finger as she beamed. “In fact, if you weren’t dating my daughter, I would date you myself. I’ll bet you’re a stallion in the sack.”
“Oh, my … gawd!” Clove screeched as she grabbed Sam’s arm and jerked him away from her mother. “Are you hitting on my boyfriend? What is wrong with this family?”
Even though I was enjoying the spectacle, I decided to put Clove out of her misery. “It’s the wishing well,” I explained. “Aunt Tillie cursed it to mess with Margaret Little, and instead it backfired and everyone in town is having wishes come true. Unfortunately, those wishes will eventually have bad repercussions.”
“Ugh. How could you?” Clove swiveled on Aunt Tillie, her face murderous. “That’s terrible.”
“Oh, pipe down, kvetch,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “It’s not as if I did it on purpose. I was a little drunk when I cast the spell. These things happen.”
“Only to this family,” Marcus quipped.
“You’re usually my favorite, but I’m kind of at my limit today,” Aunt Tillie warned. “I wouldn’t push things too far.”
Marcus nodded. “Got it.”
“What did you wish?” Landon asked, his eyes locking with Sam’s. “It’s important. We need to know how you worded it so we can go back to the well and reverse the wish.”
“I … didn’t make a wish.” Sam stubbornly clung to his denial even as the ramifications of what Aunt Tillie admitted to doing washed over him. “Oh, well, crud on a cracker.”
“Just tell us,” I prodded. “It can’t be worse than what we’ve already dealt with today. I mean … look at my eye. How do you think this happened?”
“I thought Landon popped you one when your mouth got out of control,” Sam answered honestly.
“I told you!” Landon was livid. “Everyone in this town will think I’m a woman beater.”
“No one will think that,” I yelled. “Stop being a baby. I have a black eye. I’m not dying or anything.”
“What did you wish for?” Clove asked, tilting her head to the side. “Did you wish for me to be a better girlfriend?”
“Ugh. Now is so not the time for your insecurity streak to rear its ugly head,” Thistle barked. “Focus. We have real issues here. Bay was attacked by a group of teenagers, and Danielle Simmons reportedly has a Hollywood star locked in her home. We have bigger issues to deal with.”
“But … I need to know.” Clove worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “What did you wish for?”
“I … .” Sam held up his hands, helpless. “I wished for more respect from people.”
“Respect?” Landon arched an eyebrow. “Did you have anyone in particular in mind when you made the wish?”
“You and Aunt Tillie.”
Landon stilled. “Oh.”
“I respect you,” Aunt Tillie called out. “I’ll respect you even more if you hand me one of those cookies. I’m not allowed to grab one myself.”
Sam ignored her. “I just … it was an impulse wish. I didn’t think anything of it when I made it.”
“That’s how wishing wells usually work,” Mom said, patting his arm. “You need to reverse it, though. It will snowball if you’re not careful. You could end up with an injured eye like Bay.”
“And then people will think Clove beat you up,” Landon grumbled.
I pinched his side to get his attention, shooting him a warning look before inclining my chin in Sam’s direction. “Don’t you have something you want to say to him?”
“Not really.”
I scorched him with a dark look. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, geez.” Landon jerked a frustrated hand through his hair. “I respect you, Sam. I really do. You saved Bay’s life and you make Clove really happy. I couldn’t ask for more than that.
“If there are times I don’t show it, well, I’m sorry,” he continued. “I’m not a very verbose guy, and I don’t mean to neglect your feelings.”
“You were awfully verbose five minutes ago when you and Bay were trying to drown everyone in a river of schmaltz,” Aunt Tillie pointed.
“That did it.” Landon smacked his hand on the table, taking everyone by surprise with his anger. “You’re on my list now, Aunt Tillie. Yeah, you didn’t see that coming, did you? Well, you’re on it. I’m sick of your mouth and I’m sick of this situation. I want this fixed, and I want it fixed now. That means you’re going to stay on my list until you reverse the spell, so you’d better watch out because things are about to get ugly.”
The room fell into uncomfortable silence as everyone eyed one another and then burst out laughing at the same time. Even Aunt Tillie looked amused.
“That was funny.” Aunt Tillie shook her head as she returned to her book. “I still want a cookie.”
“And I want my pajama day,” Landon muttered, shaking his head as I rubbed the back of his neck. “How hard is it to get one pajama day? That’s all I want. A whole day of peace. I think I’ve earned it.”
“I think you’ve earned it, too,” I offered.
“Then why can’t I get it?”
That was a good question, and I didn’t have an answer. Seriously, I was pretty sure this day couldn’t get any worse. The fairy tale book we were cursed into months ago was starting to look downright appealing.
I wish Thistle was that easy to deal with. When she decides she can’t sleep she doesn’t quietly get up and go in the other room so she doesn’t disturb me. Instead, she pinches my nose until the lack of oxygen causes me to jerk awake, and then we have the pleasure of dealing with her insomnia together.
– Marcus explaining why Clove is easier to live with than Thistle
Thirteen
“Well, that was relatively painless.”
Sam cast a rueful smile at Clove as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and shuffled away from the wishing well.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “The same as always.”
“If that’s code for disrespected, get over it,” Landon ordered. “I respect you. I said it and I meant it.”
“And I believe you,” Sam supplied. “It’s just … you have a certain tone.”
“You definitely have a tone,” Thistle agreed. She was enjoying this wishing well stuff far too much. It was starting to get annoying. “I think you should work on that.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Landon pointed out. “All you have is tone.”
“Don’t let her get to you,” I instructed, grabbing his hand. “She’s having a great time because none of this has touched her yet. It won’t be so funny when something bad happens to her.”
“Oh, nothing bad is going to happen to me,” Thistle countered. “I believe in karma, and I’ve been a very good girl lately.”
“Only you and Aunt Tillie could say that with a straight face,” Clove said, resting her head against Sam’s shoulder. “I think those without the guilt gene see themselves as perfect even when they’re not.”
“I’ll make you eat dirt,” Thistle warned, her eyes flashing.
“And there’s our good girl,” I teased, grinning as Landon tugged me closer. “I don’t see why karma hasn’t made you queen of the world yet.”
“That makes two of us.”
Landon kept his gaze on me as I lifted a benevolent smile in his direction. “I think I should be queen of the world. What do you think?”
“You’re queen of my world.”
“Cute.”
“I also think that eye looks rough. We should get you back to the inn,” Landon added. “I don’t think you should be out in public until it heals.”
That sounded positively dreadful. “That could take days.”
“Yes, well
, I’ll act as your serf if you spend the rest of the day in bed. How does that sound?”
It sounded appealing in a very odd and kinky sort of way. Hmm. Why did my mind automatically go to such a filthy place? “Um … what were we talking about again?”
“Where did your head just go?” Landon asked, his lips twitching.
Thistle snorted. “I know where it went. It was dirty, and you were naked there.”
“Oh, well … .” Landon’s frown turned in the other direction. “That’s exactly what I had in mind. See, you’re the good girl today.”
“Oh, gross,” Thistle complained, rolling her eyes. “I thought we agreed we had to track down everyone who made wishes to con them into reversing them? Wasn’t that the plan an hour ago?”
“Yes, but I’m not keen on Bay dealing with this stuff,” Landon argued, his voice firm. “She’s had a rough day already. She can go back to the guesthouse and take a nap. I’ll tackle our part of the list myself.”
“No way,” I protested, vigorously shaking my head. “You don’t know these people. They’ll think you’re crazy if you show up at their door and demand they reverse their wishes.”
“On top of that, most people are prone to panicking when ‘The Man’ shows up at their door,” Marcus interjected, adopting a pragmatic tone. “Even if they didn’t do anything wrong, they might have a bad reaction.”
“He has a point,” I hedged. “Landon, it’s a black eye. I’m perfectly fine. No one will believe you hit me, so calm down. This isn’t the end of the world.”
“Just tell everyone I hit her,” Thistle offered cheerfully. “They’ll believe that.”
“Because you’re mean,” Clove muttered.
“I’m honest,” Thistle corrected. “There’s a difference. I … .” She didn’t get a chance to finish, because something caught her attention over my left shoulder. When I shifted to see what she was looking at I found Chief Terry trudging our way. He didn’t look happy
Landon picked up on his mood right away. “What happened?”
Chief Terry lifted his head at the sound of Landon’s voice. He looked unnaturally grim. The expression faded momentarily when he locked gazes with me, and then his demeanor shifted to angry almost instantaneously. “Who hit you?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, waving off his concern. “It was an accident. I’m sure I’ll look like crap for the next few days, but it’s fine.”
Chief Terry refused to be placated. “Did you hit her?” His expression was murderous when he swiveled on Landon.
“Of course not,” Landon barked, his cheeks reddening. “Do you really think I’d hit her?”
“Oh, it looks like Landon was right,” Thistle noted. “Everyone naturally does assume it’s the boyfriend. That’s kind of a bummer, huh?”
It was more than a bummer. The mere idea that Landon would hit me was laughable. The only time he physically went after me was when we got in a tickle war. “Chief Terry, Landon didn’t do this,” I insisted, resting my hand on his forearm to calm him as he stood toe-to-toe with Landon, his chest heaving. “This happened when Nelson’s harem got out of control at the wishing well this morning.”
Chief Terry slowly relaxed his hands, stretching his fingers to get the blood flowing as he recovered. “Oh, well, sorry.”
“Whatever.” Landon averted his gaze but kept me close at his side. “I figured this would happen the second she took that punch.”
“I actually think it was an elbow, but it was hard to tell with all of the activity,” I countered, heaving a sigh. “I can’t believe you thought he would hit me. That’s not like you.”
Chief Terry clearly didn’t like the admonishment. “Oh, well … I guess it’s my training. We’re always taught that when a woman shows up battered it’s her husband or significant other who did the damage ninety percent of the time.”
Those figures sounded exaggerated, but I was in no mood to argue. “But Landon?”
“I know.” Chief Terry looked legitimately sorry when he locked gazes with my boyfriend. “I’m sorry. I just … she’s my little sweetheart. When I saw her face like that, I snapped a bit.”
“I don’t blame you.” Landon said the words grudgingly. “I was upset when I saw the black eye, too. I tackled that Nelson kid hard when I thought he was going to cast another wish, so I’m hardly some sort of hero.”
“He was going to make another wish even knowing how the first turned out?” Chief Terry was flabbergasted. “Why?”
“Because he made the first wish in an attempt to get Bay, although he worded it wrong,” Landon replied. “He decided to word the second one better, but we got to him in time. Unfortunately, his harem didn’t like the way he focused his attention on Bay, so things spiraled out of control pretty quickly.”
“I just bet.” Chief Terry made a tsking sound as he shook his head. “This is getting out of control fast. There are more fires than we can put out. I went to Danielle Simmons' house today. She had that guy chained in her basement. I had to drag her back to the well to reverse the wish.”
“That’s not our biggest problem,” Landon noted. “How are we supposed to explain things if that guy presses charges?”
“Oh, he won’t do that,” Chief Terry answered, sounding sure of himself. “He couldn’t remember anything once the wish was reversed. He thought he ended up here after a bender. I let him think that on purpose.”
“That was probably wise.”
“Who was he?” Thistle asked, voicing the question buzzing at the front of my brain.
Chief Terry held his hands palms up and shrugged. “I don’t know. They all look the same to me. He was Klingon number three or something. Does it really matter?”
It clearly didn’t matter to him.
“What are you guys doing out here?” Chief Terry asked, shifting gears.
“Sam made a wish to be respected and we had to reverse it,” Landon answered. “Now we’re going to tackle more of the wish list, but I want Bay to go home and rest before we do that. She’s putting up a fight.”
“Oh, well … .” Chief Terry jangled the key ring on his belt. “I think we might need her, so I’d like to hold off on that rest.”
“Why?” I asked, instantly alert.
“I came here to find you guys because I just got a call,” Chief Terry replied. “It seems we have a body behind the library. I’m guessing it has something to do with all of this. I’m not sure how to approach it, so … we might need her.”
Landon let loose with a low growl. “And the hits just keep on coming.”
WE SENT Clove, Thistle, Sam and Marcus on their way, trusting them with some of the little wishes, while we handled the big problem of the day. The body was out in the open behind the library, a burly man sprawled on the lawn, sightless eyes facing the sky.
“That’s Doug Bateman,” I said, shuffling closer.
Landon grabbed my arm to keep me from getting too close to the body. “How well do you know him?”
“Not well,” I replied, my eyes roaming the man’s oversized body. “He’s a jerk.”
“He is a jerk,” Chief Terry agreed, rubbing his chin as he stared at the body. “There’s not a mark on him. He looks as if he was just walking behind the library and keeled over dead.”
“Who called it in?” Landon asked, hunkering down to get a closer look at the body. “There are no signs of violence. That doesn’t mean he didn’t die of a heart attack or something. It could be an accidental death.”
“It’s not an accident.” Chief Terry looked resigned. “Deidre Bateman called it in. She said she wished he was dead and it happened.”
I stilled, surprised. “She called in the murder of her husband?”
“She made it sound like divine intervention,” Chief Terry clarified. “She said that he had it coming and God reached down from Heaven and made it happen. She sounded drunk on the phone. I sent one of my officers to collect her. He’s bringing her here.”
“But … why woul
d she tell you that?” Landon asked, dumbfounded. “I mean, even if she did go to the wishing well and wish him dead, why would she admit it?”
“Doug has quite the reputation,” I answered, swallowing hard. “I’m almost afraid to tell you what that reputation is for, but you kind of need to know to understand why Chief Terry is a little leery of what’s about to come.”
“I’m going to hate this, aren’t I?”
I nodded. “He’s … um … .”
“He’s a wife beater,” Chief Terry supplied, a muscle working in his jaw. “He’s been beating Deidre since they got married. Everyone in town knows it.”
“Why haven’t you stopped it?” Landon’s tone was accusatory. “How could you let it go on?”
“Because she denied that he ever touched her and never called the police on him,” Chief Terry replied. “She sports bruises and black eyes all of the time. If you ask what happened to her, she makes up stories about falling down the stairs or something on a high shelf falling on top of her. She refused to press charges, and without proof … well … there’s nothing I can do.”
“Still, you should’ve taken her into the station and grilled her until she rolled over on him,” Landon pressed.
“You want Chief Terry to emotionally abuse a physically abused woman?” I couldn’t help but be dubious. “Really?”
“I know how it sounds, Bay, but how will Chief Terry feel if that woman shows up dead one day?”
It was a solid point. It was also a moot one. “I don’t think that matters now.” I gestured toward the body on the ground. “What are we going to do about this? You can’t lock up Deidre for murder because she wished her husband dead. You’ll be laughed out of court.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely a possibility.” Chief Terry rolled his neck, focusing his eyes on a police cruiser across the parking lot. I recognized Officer Reinke helping Deidre out of the car and gesturing in our direction. “If she reverses the wish, what happens?”
That was a very good question. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Death is supposed to be one of those things you can’t cheat, but this wasn’t a natural death so … .”
Once Upon a Witch: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Books 1-3 Page 48