Witch, Interrupted

by Amanda M. Lee

“I can’t talk about that.”

  “You have to. Were you sleeping with her, too?”

  The question was enough to get a reaction out of him. “Absolutely not!” He snapped his head up and glared. “How can you even suggest such a thing? That woman is in her eighties.”

  “Hey, I have no idea how you roll,” I said. “I was simply asking a question. You focus on relationships. That’s your shtick. I don’t understand why you were seeing Mrs. Little when she’s not in a relationship.”

  “I can’t talk about a client’s private business. It’s unethical.”

  “You were sleeping with your patients,” Landon pointed out. “That doesn’t put you in the best light when it comes to ethics.”

  “Oh, get off your pedestal,” Hopper snapped. “You look at me with disdain. I get it. You don’t hate me for the reason you think you do, though.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why do I hate you?”

  “Because you’re jealous. No man wants to stick to one woman. He wants to jump around. Society frowns on that, but it wasn’t always that way. I think we were better off when monogamy was something women participated in and men occasionally considered.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. “You’re disgusting.”

  “And you’re worried that he really feels that way,” Hopper shot back. “You’re afraid that you’re not enough for him. I can see the insecurity whenever it washes over you. I can feel it when you call for me. You’re afraid of what’s happening, that things will get out of control and someone you love will end up hurt.

  “The thing is, you have the power but you’re afraid to use it,” he continued. “You could crush your boyfriend like a bug on a windshield to ensure he does what you want, but you’re too afraid. That makes you weak.”

  My mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “Ignore him, Bay,” Landon admonished. “He’s trying to get you worked up because he wants you to forget the questions you were asking. He doesn’t want to talk about his misdeeds. He wants to distract you and this is how he’s chosen to do it.”

  It was an effective attack. I was feeling a bit out of sorts, especially since finding out I could lock a ghost in an invisible box for long stretches of time. That seemed mean ... and a little frightening. Still, Landon had a point. Hopper was on the offensive because he didn’t want to answer questions about Mrs. Little. That much was obvious.

  “I want to know why Mrs. Little was visiting you,” I pressed. “If it wasn’t for sexual therapy — which I’m absurdly happy to hear because that would’ve given me nightmares — it had to be something else. What was it?”

  “I’m not answering your questions.”

  My temper flared as power washed through me. “We’ll just see about that.”

  Seventeen

  No matter how I cajoled and pleaded, Hopper refused to divulge the reason for Mrs. Little’s visits to his house. The tighter he clammed up, the more I was convinced he was doing something nefarious with Hemlock Cove’s self-proclaimed queen of the hill.

  Landon suggested I get more aggressive with my questioning – and I considered it – but, ultimately I wasn’t comfortable with the notion. Sticking Hopper in an invisible box without realizing it was one thing. Purposely torturing him was another.

  “Was Mrs. Little the only person outside of a relationship you were seeing?” I asked after a full hour of back-and-forth with the belligerent ghost. “Were you seeing other single people?”

  “I can’t answer that.” Hopper sounded weary. “You know I can’t. Why do you keep pressing on issues I’ve told you are off the table?”

  “Because we’re trying to figure out who killed you,” Landon answered automatically. At some point he’d given up standing and was sprawled in one of the large chairs in the lobby, his feet resting on the coffee table. “Someone entered your home and stabbed you. We’re trying to figure out if you were expecting this person or it came as a surprise.”

  “I can guarantee that I wasn’t expecting to die.”

  “That doesn’t mean you weren’t expecting your guest,” I pointed out. “If you were making time with these women, maybe you were doing it at your house. You would need privacy. They were married, so I doubt you could do it at their homes.”

  “He did it with Maxine Wheeler at her house,” Landon interjected. “That’s how Jonathan found out what was going on.”

  “But Jonathan was supposed to be out of town,” I said. “That’s what he said anyway.”

  “Still, it was a risk.” Landon linked his fingers and rested them on his flat stomach. “Were you expecting someone at your house the night you died? You said you went to dinner alone and came home. Was someone supposed to meet you there when you returned?”

  “I don’t remember.” Hopper practically spat the words. “How many times do I have to tell you that? I honestly don’t remember anything after leaving the restaurant. I’m not making it up.”

  “You’re not exactly forthcoming with the information,” I reminded him. “Of course, your answers are suspect. You won’t tell us the truth.”

  “I’ve told you everything I can.”

  “Except the truth.” I refused to let it go. “You won’t tell us why Mrs. Little was seeing you. You’ve barely spoken of the two husbands who found out what was going on, but Landon and Chief Terry will definitely be questioning them. You had a file in there with the name ripped off the label and one sheet of paper inside. I mean ... who was the psychopath you were treating?”

  Hopper blanched at the question. “What are you talking about?”

  Something niggled the back of my brain. “There was a file. We stumbled across it by accident. The name was ripped off so we have no idea who it belonged to. All that was inside was a printed-out sheet of paper with information about psychopaths on it. Are you saying you didn’t do that?”

  “Why would I file something that way? It makes no sense.”

  It really didn’t. “I didn’t see a file in there for Mrs. Little.” This time I spoke to Landon more than Hopper. “You didn’t see one, did you?”

  “If I’d seen a file on Mrs. Little I would’ve shared with the group,” Landon replied. “You know that.”

  “Thistle would’ve shared, too.” I chewed my bottom lip. “How closely were you watching Aunt Tillie?”

  “I try to refrain from watching her as much as possible. She takes it as a challenge.”

  “I wasn’t watching her either. I simply assumed that she was going through the files the same way we were.”

  “So?”

  “So, she disappeared for a few minutes.” I attempted to organize the timeline from the previous evening in my busy brain. “She excused herself to go to the bathroom.”

  “And you think she stole the information from Mrs. Little’s file when that happened?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a possibility. The other possibility is that Mrs. Little didn’t arrive after us. Maybe she was there before us and stole her own file. Then she saw us on the sidewalk and decided to spy, maybe even plotted a way to blame her stolen file on us if it became necessary.”

  Landon angled his head, considering. “I guess that’s possible, but I think we would’ve noticed if she was parked on the street.”

  “We parked around the block. Maybe she parked around a different block.”

  “I guess that’s possible. Still, I think it’s unlikely. If you’re going to break into someone’s house, especially if it’s still a crime scene, the later the better.”

  “Except Mrs. Little is old and goes to bed at nine o’clock every night.”

  “She stayed long enough to know we were there for hours last night,” Landon countered. “If she’d already found what she was looking for, why wait?”

  That was a good question. “We’re back to Aunt Tillie.”

  “Do you really think she would steal the file?”

  “You’ve met her.”

  Landon sighed. “She stole it.”
r />   “Yeah.” I groaned as I got to my feet and slid a dark look in Hopper’s direction. “It would be helpful if you would simply tell us what we need to know.”

  The pouty therapist jutted out his lower lip. “I have no intention of doing that.”

  “Fine. We’ll find out on our own. Just remember, I can make you do stuff. I don’t want to be the sort of person who forces ghosts to do her bidding, but I will if I have to. I don’t feel much sympathy for you because of the things you were doing.”

  “Allegedly doing,” Hopper corrected, prim. “You have no proof.”

  “You admitted it.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  Now he was just being a pain. “Well, you think long and hard about what I said. I have to go fight with Aunt Tillie. If she doesn’t give me what I want, I’ll be coming for you. I have a lot fewer qualms about bossing you around.”

  “I stand by my previous statement. It’s unethical to divulge patient secrets.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved my hand. “I’ll be back ... and you’d better be prepared.”

  “I knew I should’ve crossed to the other side and not followed orders from a disembodied voice,” Hopper grumbled. “No good ever comes from listening to the voices in your head.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  INSTEAD OF HEADING straight to the inn, Landon suggested a strategy session during dinner at the diner. At first I couldn’t figure out why he wanted to eat in town when there was perfectly good meatloaf waiting at The Overlook. I understood when we walked through the door and caught sight of Chief Terry and Melanie sitting together in a corner booth.

  “You’re trying to ascertain if he’s still angry with you,” I surmised when my gaze linked with Melanie’s. She enthusiastically waved before leaning forward to say something to Chief Terry. When he turned to look in our direction his gaze was dark ... and he certainly didn’t wave. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared before turning back to the bread basket he shared with Melanie.

  “Well, that wasn’t very welcoming,” Landon complained as he pressed his hand to the small of my back and pointed me toward a booth about three tables away from where Chief Terry sat with his date. “I guess he’s going to be angry longer than we expected.”

  The simple truth of his words was enough to cause the small ball of guilt sitting in the pit of my stomach to double in size. “Maybe we should force the issue,” I suggested. “If we invite ourselves to sit with them, he’ll have no choice but to forgive me.”

  I was hopeful it was a sound suggestion until Landon shook his head. “Sweetie, how would you feel if Chief Terry interrupted one of our dates?”

  “We don’t date.”

  “We used to date.”

  “And he interrupted us several times. I remember a few breakfasts where he took over the entire conversation to talk about dead people.”

  “I don’t think he’ll be happy if you invite yourself on his date.”

  “Probably not. Things can’t get worse, though.”

  “Fine.” He threw his hands in the air, resigned. “Do what you want.”

  “Thank you.” I plastered a smile on my face as I changed direction and headed toward Chief Terry’s booth. He sensed when I’d closed the distance, his shoulders going stiff, and I had to force myself to remain cheery even though I wanted to burst into tears and beg for forgiveness. “It’s nice to see you guys here tonight. It’s a surprise.” I glanced at Landon for help. “It’s a surprise, right?”

  Landon’s forehead wrinkled, his disdain for being dragged into the conversation evident. “Yes, it’s a complete surprise.”

  “It probably wouldn’t have been a surprise if you’d returned to the station this afternoon,” Chief Terry said stiffly. “Where were you?”

  “Oh, um ... I figured you needed some time alone to go through the notes from the case and Bay has that big newspaper office to herself, so I worked there. She doesn’t like being alone when there’s a killer on the loose so I was doing my duty as her boyfriend.”

  I scorched him with an annoyed look. “I’m fine being alone.”

  “No, you cried. I can’t leave your side when you cry. That’s simply the way I’m wired.”

  “I did not cry!”

  Landon wasn’t the type to give in, and this conversation was no different. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s okay to cry. I’m sure Melanie cries occasionally, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Melanie enthusiastically nodded her head. “I find that crying alleviates tension. Sometimes I put on a sad television show or movie simply so I can sob out my toxins.”

  “I prefer drinking wine when I’m feeling tense,” I admitted.

  “That sounds fun.” Melanie beamed. “Um ... would you like to join us?” She looked confused and focused on Chief Terry when my eyes automatically went to him.

  “We would love to join you,” I said automatically. “That will give us a chance to get to know each other better.”

  “Sure.”

  Chief Terry cleared his throat, and when he finally pinned me with a dark look I felt an involuntary shudder go down my spine. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You don’t?” My voice sounded squeaky. “You don’t want to have dinner with us?”

  “I had lunch with Landon. One meal a day is enough.”

  “You didn’t eat with me, though.”

  “No. You’re on a date, Bay. We’re on a date, too. I don’t think anyone wants to make it a double date.” He was cold, remote, as he focused on Melanie. The smile he offered her was warm, but his reaction to me was the exact opposite. “I’m sure we can find another day to have dinner. Maybe in a few weeks or so.”

  Weeks? He was really angry. “But ... .”

  “Bay, they want to be alone.” Landon wrapped his fingers around my wrist and gave me a gentle tug. “You remember what it was like when we first started dating. We were in our own little world and no one else could visit.”

  I remembered plenty of people inviting themselves to visit our private little world. “Right.” My stomach felt hollow and my appetite vanished. “I guess we’ll leave you to it.”

  “That would be best,” Chief Terry agreed.

  The look Melanie shot me was confused. “I ... if you think we should be separate for dinner, Terry, that’s fine. As long as I get to spend time with you, I’m happy.”

  What a suck-up. I was back to wanting to punch her.

  “We’ll just grab our own booth.” Landon was insistent as he pulled me away from Chief Terry’s table. “Try the turtle cheesecake if you get dessert. It’s amazing.”

  Melanie nodded. “That sounds great.”

  “Yes, everyone is happy with their separate dates,” Chief Terry agreed, refusing to as much as look at me as Landon forced me away from the booth. “Now, what were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted?”

  Chief Terry was angry, and I hated it when that happened. I always cried as a kid until he agreed to forgive me. That left me feeling morose and unsure of myself. For a brief second, when Landon gave me a particularly insistent tug and my chin shot up so I was looking directly at Melanie, I saw what could only be described as smug satisfaction wafting over her features. The expression was gone practically the second I registered it and she was back to looking sympathetic, but I was sure it was there.

  I felt defeated and annoyed, and there was nothing I could do about it. This day was not going how I envisioned.

  “DO YOU WANT TO share a piece of cheesecake?”

  Landon turned his plate so the caramel-covered triangle of creamy goodness was basically staring me in the face.

  “No thanks.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” He sliced into the cake and shoved a heaping forkful into his mouth with moaning designed to cajole a smile out of me as I stared at Chief Terry’s back.

  Dinner had been a depressing affair. I ate
fried chicken but didn’t really taste it. Instead, I stared at the booth where Chief Terry ate and laughed with the pretzel chick ... and all the while plotted her bloody demise.

  “Hey! Look at me.” Landon tapped his fork against my temple, causing me to frown.

  “Did you just get cheesecake on my forehead?” Annoyance ran roughshod over my patience. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Don’t worry. I licked the fork clean before touching you.”

  “Is that supposed to make things better?”

  Landon sobered, all attempts at lightening my mood evaporating. “He’s angry with both of us. It’s not just you.”

  “He never stays angry at me. He always forgives me right away.”

  “You’re no longer tiny and ten.”

  “He forgave me when I was sixteen and getting in loads of trouble.”

  “Yes, well, you’re an adult now. You’re supposed to know better.”

  “You were right there with me, pal!”

  Instead of engaging in the fight, Landon merely chuckled. “Wow. You’re wound tight tonight, aren’t you? I almost wish it was a full moon so we could go to the bluff and you could get your drink on. You need something to unwind.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “Maybe I’ll have a chocolate martini when we get home. We have to stop at the inn and talk to Aunt Tillie first.”

  “I know.” He rested his hand on top of mine and met my gaze across the table. “He’ll forgive you. That’s what he does. Part of the anger fueling him right now is directed toward me.”

  “I think she has something to do with it.”

  “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  “Oh, man.” Landon’s expression was almost comical. If I was in a better mood, I would’ve laughed. “She was perfectly nice to you. In fact, she looked confused. That means Chief Terry didn’t tell her what was going on. She didn’t even know he was ticked at us. That means, even though he’s furious, he’s still protecting us.”

  I brightened considerably. “You have a point.”

  “I always have a point.”

  “I still don’t trust her. You didn’t see what I saw. She made a face.”