“What if I don’t want to control the weather that day?” Aunt Tillie challenged. “Or what if I happen to be out of town that day?”
“Where are you going?” Mom challenged. “You haven’t been out of town in twenty years.”
“I could be out of town.”
“You’re going to be here and we all know it, so stop being you,” Mom instructed, shaking her head. “The weather is the least of our worries for the big day. I’m more interested in the guest list. You know you have to invite all the coven members from around the state, right?”
Clove’s smile faltered. “I was hoping to break from that tradition.”
Mom balked. “You can’t. The other witches will take it as an insult if you snub them.”
“I find all those other witches insulting,” Aunt Tillie muttered as she doled pot roast onto her plate. “They’re not real witches. Half of them are wannabes and the other half can float a pencil if they’re lucky. I say we cut ties with them.”
“You’ve wanted to cut ties with them since we were kids,” I said. “I’ve never understood why. It’s not as if we see them more than once a year.”
“What’s the deal with these other witches?” Landon asked as he sopped up gravy with his bread. “Are they like you guys?”
“No one is like us,” Aunt Tillie replied. “We’re special. Heck, we have a necromancer in our midst. That makes us triply special because necromancers are rare. I can’t wait to tell those idiots about Bay’s new power.”
Now it was my turn to balk. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean ... we shouldn’t be spreading it around.”
“Especially because Bay can’t control it yet,” Thistle noted. “The last thing we need is word getting out at a solstice celebration. Can you imagine? Bay will lose her temper and witches from centuries past will descend on us. That sounds like the absolute worst thing.”
“Things could be worse,” Aunt Tillie countered pointedly.
Thistle snorted. “I don’t see how.”
“Things can always get worse, Mouth.”
“Only when you’re around.”
Aunt Tillie extended a warning finger. “You’re going to end up on my list if you’re not careful.”
“Whatever.”
Aunt Tillie watched her for a moment before shifting her eyes to me. “I don’t understand why you don’t want people to know about your new ability. It’s a good one. People will drool because they’ll be so jealous. That’s the only reason to keep in touch with those other witches, if you ask me.”
“Yes, well, I prefer we keep it within the family for the time being,” I said. “I’m not ready to go public.”
“That’s because you’re a prude when you want to be,” Aunt Tillie offered. “You’ve always been that way. If I was a necromancer, everyone would know it.”
“You’re a pain in the butt and everyone definitely knows that,” Thistle interjected.
“That’s it. You’re definitely on my list.”
“Stop,” Thistle drawled. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m going to scare you.”
Landon held up a hand to still Aunt Tillie. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want a family argument — he was used to those — but he was in the middle of enjoying his pot roast and I realized he wanted to hold off on family fisticuffs until he was done eating. “Bay is in charge of decisions when it comes to her magic. If she doesn’t want people to know, then you should respect that.”
“She’s being a baby,” Aunt Tillie protested. “That’s a cool power. I’ve heard more about the fact that you guys met at summer camp than her being a necromancer. What does that tell you?”
“You met at summer camp?” Thistle wrinkled her nose. “Which summer camp?”
“The one Rosemary visited.” I launched into the tale, keeping it succinct. When I was done, everyone — with the exception of Aunt Tillie, who was beyond caring because she had potatoes and wine — was flabbergasted.
“Holy crap!” Thistle moved to stand and then sat again. “I remember that camp. I can’t believe Landon was there.”
“He’s in the photos,” I said. “That’s how we figured it out. He saw himself.”
“Why were you looking at the photos?” Mom asked, her eyes piercing as she watched Landon. “Now that you mention it, I think I do remember you. It’s so odd that I didn’t remember before. You said something sweet about Bay.”
“I was hot for her even back then,” Landon agreed, sliding his arm around my back. “You need to eat, Bay. You’re going to need your strength if we’re breaking the law tonight.”
He had a point. I scooped a huge slice of pot roast onto my plate, my stomach growling in appreciation at the scent. “I think it’s kind of fun. I was weirded out at first, but now I like the idea that we were always meant to find each other.”
“It’s definitely romantic,” Clove agreed, her eyes going dreamy as she slid them to Sam. “Why aren’t you romantic like that?”
“Oh, man.” Sam scorched me with a glare. “Thanks for that.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.
“I think it’s freaky that you guys met as kids and didn’t remember each other,” Thistle argued. “Marcus and I met as kids and we never forgot each other. Maybe that simply means that you’re both forgettable.”
“You and Marcus spent entire summers running around with the same group,” Mom added. “Bay and Landon met once and spent five days together. It wasn’t even full days. Bay was too busy looking for the body of the former camp counselor to focus on much else.”
“Holy crap!” Landon leaned forward, tilting his head. “I forgot about the dead counselor. Bay disappeared. There was a search for her. I just remembered.”
“She went to find the body,” Mom supplied. “Terry and I went into the woods to find her. He was very supportive while I was freaking out.” She looked bitter about the memory. “He helped me find her. He was good that way.”
My stomach rolled at her expression and a sharp pang of dislike for Melanie reared its ugly head. There was no way I could accept her, not as long as my mother was this unhappy.
“He did help find me,” I agreed, exchanging a quick look with Landon. “You guys brought me back. There was a bonfire that night. Everyone made s’mores.”
“And you stared at me over the fire,” Landon added.
“I think we stared at each other.”
“I choose to remember it as you staring … and drooling.”
“That’s kind of obnoxious.”
“So is inviting Aunt Tillie on our evening crime spree.”
Crap. He had a point. “There’s cake for dessert,” I said quickly. “It’s chocolate. That should make things better.”
Landon smirked. “Smooth.”
“I thought so.”
Eleven
Thistle decided she wanted to break the law with us, which wasn’t a surprise. Clove begged off, opting to remain behind and talk over wedding plans with Mom, Marnie and Twila. That also wasn’t a surprise.
By the time we’d parked around the corner from Hopper’s house, our small foursome was ready for mischief.
“Okay, here are the rules,” Landon said from the driver’s seat of his Explorer. “Everyone has to be quiet and you can’t steal anything from the house. Understood?”
From her spot in the back seat next to Thistle, Aunt Tillie made a face that was almost grotesque thanks to the limited light afforded by the moon. “Why are you in charge?”
“Because I’m an FBI agent.”
“Yes, but you’re breaking the law with us. That means you’re just one of the motley crew. Given that, I think I should be in charge. I’m the oldest.”
“I think it should go by IQ,” Thistle argued. “That puts me in charge.”
“Your IQ isn’t higher than mine,” I shot back.
“It is so.”
“It is not.”
“We got tested in high s
chool,” I argued. “My IQ was a full ten points higher than yours.”
“Actually, I seem to remember that,” Aunt Tillie mused. “You were furious when the results came back, Thistle. You were ahead of Clove by ten points and behind Bay by ten points. You didn’t take it well.”
“Hey! I still maintain that guy who tested us gave Bay an extra ten points simply because she was blond,” Thistle snapped. “He thought she was cute, so he rewarded her smile. She was flirting with him.”
I balked. “He was, like, eighty.”
“Eighty is the new thirty,” Aunt Tillie supplied. “Don’t discount him because he was eighty.”
“I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion,” Landon muttered. “It doesn’t matter who is smarter ... .”
“Because you know I’m smarter,” Thistle grumbled.
“No, Bay is definitely smarter,” Landon said. “She picked me. That means she’s a genius.”
“Oh, I think we know who has the lowest IQ in the car,” Thistle drawled. “That was some weak arguing there.”
“I have to agree.” Aunt Tillie shoved open her door. “I’m the smartest one here. That means I’m in charge.”
“Don’t make me cuff you,” Landon warned.
“As if you could catch me, Sparky.”
THE PROCESSION TO HOPPER’S house was slow. We stuck to the sidewalk until we hit his hedges and then ducked into the yard and pressed close to the bushes, forming a single line of bodies. No one spoke. Even though the argument about who was in charge was far from finished, we were all accomplished lawbreakers (even Landon) and we knew better than to argue when Esther was close enough to spy on us.
Once we reached the front door, Thistle took up watch to make sure we didn’t garner attention from the people across the street, and Landon fumbled in his pocket for his lock pick.
“Just a second,” he whispered.
Annoyed, Aunt Tillie brushed him aside and extended her fingers so they were even with the lock. She muttered a quick spell under her breath and the lock tumbled open. “Never let a man do a job designed for a woman,” she said triumphantly.
“You cheat when you use magic,” Landon groused as he grabbed the handle and twisted. “I know you’re fine with cheating, but I’m not.”
“Wah, wah, wah.”
Once we were all inside, Landon closed the drapes before turning on the lights. If someone was interested enough to move closer to the house it would be obvious that people were moving around inside. Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case, because explaining our presence was bound to be tricky.
“Where should we start?” Thistle asked, glancing around the living room. “Wait ... where did he die? I don’t want to step on death cooties.”
“There’s no such thing as death cooties,” Aunt Tillie scoffed.
“That’s not what you told us when I was ten and you found that body in the woods,” I reminded her.
“You found a body in the woods?” Landon’s eyebrows winged up. “How?”
“It wasn’t a body,” Aunt Tillie replied. “It was my wine stash. I put it under a blanket and the girls discovered it. I told them it was a body to make sure they wouldn’t squeal to their mothers.”
I was horrified. “I thought we really discovered a body. I had nightmares.”
Aunt Tillie snorted. “Yeah. That was funny.”
“It wasn’t funny!”
“I knew that wasn’t a body,” Thistle countered. “You said it was Mrs. Little’s boyfriend, the hairy hose beast without a name, but I knew you were lying. There’s no such thing as a hose beast. Unless ... what kind of hose were you talking about?”
“And we’re done with this conversation,” Landon said. “I can’t believe I’ve let it go on this long.”
“I’ve let it go on,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “I’m in charge.”
“You’re definitely on my list,” Landon shot back.
“Oh, I’m shaking in my leggings.”
“Speaking of those leggings, I thought you were warned about wearing them,” I interjected. “Mom said she burned them all.”
“She burned the dragon ones, but I’m ordering more. Also, what your mother doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”
“Fair enough.”
Landon, Thistle and I moved into the office, leaving Aunt Tillie to search the living room. I doubted very much that Hopper was the type to leave files out for anybody to read, which meant he probably had them correctly labeled and filed in a cabinet. Once we hit the office, we realized the cabinet was large enough that it took up an entire wall. It was also locked.
“We need to get this open,” Thistle said as she fruitlessly tugged on a drawer. “We could use magic.”
“Or you could let me handle this one.” Landon’s lock pick was already in his hand as he focused on the small lock. “Just give me a second. I’m magical when I want to be, too.”
Thistle and I exchanged amused looks but wisely took a step back to watch him work.
“So, word on the street is that you had coffee with Melanie Adams today,” Thistle said. “How did that go?”
“How did you hear about that?”
“I saw you when I walked past the bakery.”
“That’s not really word on the street then, is it?”
“I was on the street and I speak words so ... how was it?”
I wasn’t keen to talk about Melanie, especially in front of Landon. He was under the impression that I was going to be nice and do the right thing. In this particular situation, I knew Thistle would side with me and want to direct Chief Terry back to our family. That made her an ally ... something I couldn’t admit in front of my boyfriend.
“It was fine,” I said evasively after a beat. “She’s a very nice woman.”
Thistle drew her eyebrows together. “That was a generic response.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Yeah, I’m not buying it.”
“She doesn’t want to tell you what she really thinks in front of me,” Landon said as he yanked open the file drawer. “Hah! And you guys thought I couldn’t do it.”
“I don’t believe we said anything of the sort,” I countered. “I knew you could do it. You’re brave, strong and ... whatever skill goes with breaking into someone’s file cabinet.”
“Industrious,” Landon suggested.
“Sure.”
“Also, you can’t change the subject,” he added. “I know you’re plotting something to get Chief Terry to look away from Melanie and toward your mother. I would just like to point out that you’re a little old to be starring in a modern version of The Parent Trap and that Chief Terry seems happy.”
I blinked several times. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“You’re still going to try to get rid of her, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I definitely think we should do that,” Thistle enthused. “I want Chief Terry to date Winnie.”
“You do?” I was surprised. “What about your mother?”
“Listen, I love my mother — no, really — but she’s a pain in the rear end. I don’t know how anyone puts up with her, and that includes people who share genes with us. Chief Terry would kill himself inside of a week if he tried to date my mother. Your mother is a different story. I always thought they had something going even though neither of them would admit it.”
Intrigued, I accepted the stack of files Landon handed me and lowered myself to the floor. “You did? I always wondered that, too. Not when I was little, of course, but when I was a teenager and I often caught them with their heads bent together. There were a lot of secret smiles.”
Thistle bobbed her head. “Definitely.”
“Are you sure you guys aren’t imagining things?” Landon challenged as he handed over another stack of files to Thistle. “Maybe you’re only seeing what you want to see.”
“And maybe you weren’t there,” I fired back.
Landon made a face. “Geez. Fine. Blow up his life. I won�
��t say another word about it.”
“I don’t plan to blow up his life. I plan to make him see what he’s apparently forgotten ... that my mother is perfect for him.”
“You just want him to be your father.”
“I have a father.” Guilt rolled into a ball in my stomach. “He even lives in town ... although I haven’t seen him in two weeks. We should probably make a stop out there.”
Almost a year ago, my father and uncles returned to Hemlock Cove after more than two decades in exile. They’d opened a competing inn — The Overlook was essentially the premiere Hemlock Cove vacation destination thanks to the food and dinner theater, which was provided by our family on a nightly basis — and were keen to forge new bonds with us. So far, it had been a long process. We’d made some headway, but the sailing was hardly smooth.
“I think that’s a good idea.” Landon settled on the floor next to me with his own stack of files. “Tell me what we’re looking for here, Bay. I don’t mind breaking the law — at least in this particular case — but I don’t even know what you expect to find.”
“I told you. If Hopper was sleeping with Maxine, he was probably sleeping with other patients. That’s motive for murder in my book.”
“Wait ... Dr. Lovelorn was sleeping with his patients?” Thistle made a face. “That’s gross.”
“You haven’t seen him,” I argued. “He’s not bad looking. He’s kind of handsome, in a clinical way.”
“Don’t tell me you have a crush on the dead doctor,” Landon said. “I’m ending this right now if that’s the case.”
“I only have a crush on you.”
“And apparently since she was fourteen,” Thistle added. “That’s kind of neat. I can’t say I remember Landon from that week, but I had other things on my mind.”
“Like terrorizing Lila and Rosemary.”
“I’m always at my best when it comes to terrorizing people,” she agreed. “I still think it’s neat. It feels somehow kismet.”
However schmaltzy, I agreed. “I kind of like it. There’s a cute photo of us by the water. We’re going to frame it.”
“Oh, that’s adorable,” Aunt Tillie drawled from the open doorway. “It’s like you’re fourteen all over again. Are you going to buy a notebook and doodle his name and draw little hearts everywhere?”
Witch, Interrupted Page 11
