Something to Witch About (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 5)

by Amanda M. Lee

  Mrs. Little smiled. It was a small expression, full of woe and regret, but there was something else there, too.

  “I’m sure, for someone your age, the ways of the world back when I was young seem foreign,” she said. “You probably think that women of my day had only one option: high school and then marriage.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  “I wanted to go to college,” she said. “It wasn’t an option for me, though. I’m not sure I ever truly got over that.”

  “So, you married Mr. Little?”

  “I don’t want you to think that I didn’t love Bob,” she said. “I loved him with my whole heart. I still love him – and he’s been gone a long time now.”

  I kept my lips pressed firmly shut. I wanted to ask her why, if she loved her husband so much, she fell into bed with a drunk. I didn’t, though.

  “Bob and I always wanted children,” Mrs. Little said. “We couldn’t have them, though. He always blamed me and I, well, I always blamed him. I have no idea what the truth was – or whether it was a truth for either of us.”

  “So you slept with Floyd to see whether you could get pregnant?”

  Mrs. Little shook her head emphatically. “I slept with Floyd because he was as lost as I was.”

  “Was he unhappy? Was his marriage to Mrs. Gunderson unhappy?”

  “His marriage to Ginny was plagued with difficulties,” Mrs. Little said. “Their marriage was happy for a time, though. I would never pretend that Floyd didn’t love Ginny. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “A mistake.”

  “I guess I don’t understand,” I said. “Didn’t you think it was suspicious when Floyd disappeared?”

  “Honestly? No,” Mrs. Little replied. “I was too relieved. Floyd taking himself out of the equation made it easier for me.”

  “How so?”

  “It just was,” Mrs. Little said. “The specifics aren’t important. What’s important is that Bob and I were happy again when he was gone. We found happiness.”

  “What about Mrs. Gunderson?”

  “Let’s just say everyone was a lot happier after Floyd left town and leave it at that.”

  Sixteen

  I left Pewter Power with some answers – and even more questions. Instead of going back to The Overlook, though, I headed to The Whistler. There was someone else in town who might have some answers.

  I found Edith in the employee lounge – really just a small kitchenette – watching television. Since she spent most of her days locked in the building (even though she had the freedom to roam anywhere in town) I left the small television on the counter switched on for her entertainment.

  She was a big fan of General Hospital and was watching it now.

  “I can’t believe they recast Jason,” she said, not bothering to glance up. “This guy looks too young.”

  “At least he has more than one facial expression,” I offered.

  “I liked his one facial expression,” Edith countered.

  “I know you did.”

  I sat down in one of the chairs. “Where’s Brian?”

  “He left a few hours ago,” Edith said.

  “Where to?”

  “Maybe he’s at the festival. I’m not sure.”

  “Has he been up to anything?”

  “Just spending a lot of time with that Sam guy,” Edith said.

  “Sam has been around?” That was worrisome.

  “He stopped in a few times,” Edith said. “He tried to talk to me.”

  “He did?”

  “He can see me.”

  “I know. He told me.”

  Edith finally wrenched her eyes from the television. “He told you? When?”

  “Before he left town,” I said. “He ambushed me at the inn and told me that not only could he see ghosts, he also knew we were witches.”

  Edith doesn’t breathe, but I swear she sucked in a breath to steady her nerves. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m avoiding him,” I replied.

  “That doesn’t sound very mature.”

  “I’m fine with that.”

  “What does Landon say?” Edith asked. She was privy to all the gossip in my life – and she thrived on it. She was a busybody when she was alive. Since I’m her only form of entertainment in death – other than the television -- she straddles a line bordering on obsession from time to time.

  “He said he would beat him up if I wanted him to.”

  “I like him.”

  “He’s likeable,” I agreed.

  “Speaking of, isn’t his entire family staying at the inn this week?”

  “Yup.”

  “Why aren’t you with him?”

  “They went to Traverse City for the day,” I said.

  “He didn’t ask you to go with him?”

  “I think he knew I needed a break.”

  “From him?”

  “No, from his mother. Oh, and his great aunt.”

  “He’s got a great aunt, too? Is she anything like Tillie?” Edith has a tortured past with Aunt Tillie. Actually, that’s putting it mildly. She hates her.

  “If you can believe this, she’s worse.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  I didn’t blame her.

  “So, why would you need a break?” Edith asked.

  “Oh, well, let’s see,” I said. “Between the bones uncovered by the construction crew, Landon’s aunt hitting on Aunt Tillie’s boyfriend, his mother pretty much hating my guts and Chief Terry hauling Aunt Tillie in for questioning regarding a fifty-year-old murder, I guess you could say I just needed a day to myself.”

  Surprising a ghost isn’t easy. Edith’s raised eyebrows were a dead giveaway that I’d managed just that, though.

  “You found bones at the inn?”

  Oh, right, I’d gotten off track. “Yeah, that’s actually why I’m here. I thought you might know something about the victim.”

  “Why? Who is it?”

  “His name was Floyd Gunderson,” I said. “I figured, since you were around back then you might know who he was. I mean, I know you died long before he disappeared, but you were privy to all the news from those days.”

  I glanced at Edith, who was sitting as still as possible. Since she was a ghost, I’m not sure how impressive that was.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The bones belong to Floyd?”

  “You knew him?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Do you want to elaborate on that?”

  “Do they know how he died?” Edith asked.

  “No. Edith, what’s going on? You look white as a … ghost.”

  “Floyd was my brother.”

  “How? You have a different last name.”

  “He wasn’t my full brother,” Edith corrected. “After my father died, my mother married another man – and they had a child together.”

  “Floyd?”

  “Floyd.”

  “How old would Floyd be now?”

  Edith did the math in her head. “I think he would be about eighty.”

  That made sense. “Were you close with him?”

  “Not really,” Edith said. “We weren’t enemies or anything. Floyd was just a different type of person.”

  “How much older than him were you?”

  “About ten years,” Edith said.

  “I guess that’s a big difference when you’re that age.”

  “I was a little bitter about my mother getting remarried,” Edith admitted. “I didn’t take it well.”

  “Did you die before Floyd disappeared?”

  “The year before,” Edith said. “I heard the people in the paper’s offices talking about Floyd disappearing when it happened. It didn’t really surprise me.”

  “He didn’t disappear, though,” I said. “He ended up dead in Aunt Tillie’s back yard.”

  “Well, the good news is that your mother and aunts would’ve been small children
then,” Edith said.

  “How is that good news?”

  “They can’t be arrested for being accomplices.”

  Thank the Goddess for small favors.

  “Edith, did you know Mrs. Gunderson?”

  “Ginny? Yeah. She was a nice woman. I never understood what she saw in Floyd. She was so happy on their wedding day. I knew it wouldn’t end well, though.”

  “Would she be capable of killing your brother?”

  “I seriously doubt it.”

  “What about Mrs. Little?”

  “Margaret Little? Why would you ask that?”

  “Because apparently she was having an affair with Floyd,” I replied.

  “Really? I guess that makes sense.”

  “Because they dated in high school?”

  “Yeah.” Edith seemed lost in thought. “You know, I guess Floyd being dead makes a weird sort of sense.”

  “How?”

  “If what you’re saying about Margaret is true, I bet she killed him to cover up the baby?”

  I jerked my head up. “What baby?”

  “She was pregnant in late 1966,” Edith said. “There was a birth announcement in the paper. I remember seeing it. I was happy for her.”

  “She said she couldn’t have a baby,” I said. “She doesn’t have a child.”

  “No,” Edith said. “She lost the baby at birth. It was some sort of tragedy, I guess. A stillbirth. William was talking about it in the newsroom when it happened. I think everyone in town rallied behind her when they found out. I always assumed the baby was Bob’s.”

  “From everything I’ve heard about Floyd, it sounds like he was kind of … lost,” I said.

  “You mean the drinking?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He had some demons,” Edith said. “I always hoped he’d outgrow them.”

  “I don’t think he did.”

  “No,” Edith agreed. “I don’t think so either.”

  “So, basically, I have two options,” I said. “Either Mrs. Little – or even Mr. Little – killed Floyd to hide the paternity of the baby. Or, Mrs. Gunderson found out about the affair and killed him herself.”

  “I guess,” Edith said, not seeming particularly perturbed by either prospect.

  “That still doesn’t explain how the body ended up on our property.”

  “No,” Edith said. “I guess you’ll have to ask your Aunt Tillie about that.”

  Great.

  Seventeen

  Chief Terry was my next stop. He was sitting behind his desk, staring off into space, when I walked into his office.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Did your mother send you to ban me from the inn? Am I the new devil in town?”

  “They’re just upset,” I said. “They’ll get over it.”

  “Your mother didn’t send you?”

  “I’m fairly certain Mom is enjoying an afternoon of freedom right now,” I said. “Landon’s family is in Traverse City.”

  “Yeah, things seem tense out there.”

  “They’ve been better.”

  “So, your mother didn’t send you?” Chief Terry looked disappointed.

  “If it’s any consolation, I haven’t seen her since breakfast,” I said. “Once Landon left, I headed straight to town.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to talk to Mrs. Little.” There was no point in lying.

  Chief Terry shifted forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his desk. “What did she say?”

  “She admitted having an affair with Floyd,” I said.

  “I’m not surprised she was having the affair,” Chief Terry said. “I am surprised she admitted it.”

  “She claims she hit a rough spot with Mr. Little and the affair was a mistake,” I said. “She also said she didn’t kill him. She said she assumed like everyone else that he’d run away.”

  “She probably did.”

  “Except she also told me she couldn’t have children,” I added.

  “She doesn’t have any children.”

  “No, but she was pregnant in 1966,” I said. “Edith told me.”

  “Edith? The ghost at the paper?” Chief Terry was aware of my ability. “Wasn’t she Floyd’s half-sister?”

  “Yeah. I just found that out.”

  “Edith died before Floyd disappeared, if memory serves,” Chief Terry said. “How could she know about a pregnancy?”

  “She said there was an announcement in the paper,” I explained. “She said it was a stillbirth.”

  “How could she know that?”

  “She heard that at the paper, too,” I said. “I guess it was a big deal when it happened.”

  Chief Terry rubbed his jaw, considering. “How come I never heard about this?”

  “You would’ve been a child then,” I said. “That’s probably not something parents talked about with their kids in those days.”

  “Or any day.”

  “No.”

  “This is a mess,” Chief Terry said. “Floyd could’ve knocked up Margaret, which means that Margaret, Bob and Ginny are all prime suspects in a suspicious death.”

  “Except you don’t know how he died,” I reminded him. “He really could’ve gotten drunk and fallen in a hole.”

  “No, I don’t,” Chief Terry said. “I do know that he was found buried on your property, though. He didn’t fall in a hole. And, given the timeline, the only people who could’ve buried him out there were Tillie or Calvin.”

  The thought had never occurred to me. “Uncle Calvin?”

  Chief Terry nodded grimly. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your mother or aunts, but burying a body isn’t an easy task. I think your aunt is capable of anything she puts her mind to, but burying Floyd is a big deal.”

  “What if she and Mrs. Gunderson buried him?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Or she could’ve done it with Uncle Calvin’s help,” I supplied.

  “I don’t want you to jump to any conclusions,” Chief Terry said. “From everything I’ve heard about Calvin, though, he wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever Tillie asked of him.”

  “Even cover up a murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “What if he murdered him?”

  “In this whole hodgepodge of motives and hidden truths, the only one I can’t assign a reasonable explanation for murder is Calvin,” Chief Terry said. “If he was involved, I think it was just tangentially.”

  “Which means Aunt Tillie was involved directly.”

  “We don’t know that,” Chief Terry cautioned. “That woman is … unpredictable. That doesn’t mean I think she’s a murderer.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think she’s capable of covering up a murder,” Chief Terry said. “I’m also worried she’s capable of protecting a friend if it comes to that.”

  That was a nice way of looking at things. I’d just never known her to have any friends.

  “Well, we’re hoping to have some answers from her tonight,” I offered.

  “How are you going to manage that?” Chief Terry asked, doubt clouding his features.

  “We slipped a truth potion in her private stash,” I said. “Once she drinks it, she’ll have no choice but to tell us the truth.”

  “What if she doesn’t drink it?”

  “Then we’ll have to figure something else out,” I said. “I’m confident she’ll drink it, though.”

  “Isn’t that risky with Landon’s family out there?”

  “They’re gone for the day,” I said, leaning back in the chair. “Their excursion couldn’t have come at a better time.”

  Chief Terry chuckled. “It seems like everyone is ready to kill each other out there.”

  “His mother hates me.”

  His mouth tipped into a frown. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she does. You should see the way she looks at me. If she could pick anyone for her son, I would be the person standing behind her.”
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br />   “Bay, let me tell you something,” Chief Terry said, his voice stern. “I’ve known you your whole life. You make the world a better place just by being in it. Landon sees that. I see it in his eyes.

  “That’s not to say you don’t frustrate the hell out of him,” he added. “That’s a special gift where the Winchester women are concerned. You’re all capable of driving men to distraction.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  “When I first met Landon, I wasn’t sure about him,” Chief Terry admitted. “I’m sure now.”

  “When you first met him, he was undercover with a bunch of meth heads,” I reminded him.

  “I knew who he was and what he was doing,” Chief Terry replied. “He informed me of his presence and case when he came to town. He didn’t want any misunderstandings.”

  “Well, at least he told you,” I laughed, my mind rushing back to the day I’d met Landon. I definitely hadn’t been so sure of him back then. “I thought he was a dirtbag.”

  “When he first came to town, I thought he was kind of full of himself,” Chief Terry said. “FBI agents have a reputation for thinking they’re above everyone else. That’s what I thought he was like.”

  “He’s not like that,” I countered.

  “You know, when I realized he was interested in you I warned him to stay away,” Chief Terry admitted. “That’s how unsure of him I was.”

  “You did?”

  “What? You’ve been my favorite since you were little,” he replied. “I didn’t want just anyone stealing your heart.”

  I laughed. “He’s not just anyone.”

  “I know,” Chief Terry said. “That’s also why I know he won’t let his mother’s unwarranted judgments get in the way. The boy is … well … he’s a good man. And that’s all that matters.”

  He was right.

  I got to my feet and moved toward the door. “I’ll tell you what we find out.”

  “I hope it all works out.”

  I paused before leaving. “You want to know something?”

  “Always.”

  “You were always my favorite, too.”

  Chief Terry couldn’t hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Tell your mother that.”

  “She already knows,” I said. “I’ll remind her, though.”

  Eighteen

  “Good morning, sleepy head.” Landon snuggled his face into my neck, spooning me from behind. “Are you going to get up anytime today?”