“Excuse me, Tillie,” Mrs. Little drawled, taking up position at the center of her small circle and planting her hands on her hips. “This is a private establishment.”
“Technically it’s not,” I reminded her, cringing when she bored her eyes into me. “It’s a business. This is a tourist town, so business doors are always open. I believe that was your suggestion. You even wanted to make it the town motto, if I remember correctly.”
“Businesses are only open until seven,” Thistle corrected, her eyes gleaming with something I remembered well from childhood. She was excited for the hunt, even if she wasn’t quite sure who she was hunting. “Mrs. Little believes doors should always be open ... but only until seven because people out after that are clearly up to no good. She actually put that in those little brochures she carries around.”
“And I stand by that,” Mrs. Little sneered. “Only people looking for trouble are out after seven. I bet you guys are always out after seven.”
“It depends on if there’s cake at the inn,” Clove countered. “If there’s cake, we like to stick close to it.”
“Yes, well ... .” Mrs. Little trailed off as she defiantly squared her shoulders and stared into Aunt Tillie’s eyes. They were mortal enemies who enjoyed making scenes. They were also diminutive, barely five feet tall, although they packed a wallop of attitude.
“What do you think you’re doing here, Tillie?” Mrs. Little asked as she settled on her plan of attack. “You’re not welcome. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“The sign says ‘open,’” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “That means that you’re open for business ... just like you used to be when you slept your way around town.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Leave it to Aunt Tillie to throw out her version of a skank insult one minute into the argument. She was clearly loaded for bear.
“I’m not open for business with you,” Mrs. Little snapped. “That sign on the front window says that I can refuse service to anyone. I’m refusing it to you, so ... get out. I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”
“We’re here because we want to know if you were sleeping with Dr. Hopper like Maxine there ... and a few others ... or if you might have killed him for a different reason,” Aunt Tillie countered without hesitation, causing my stomach to sink. “I think you’re too old to be one of Hopper’s conquests — he wasn’t blind, after all — but Bay here isn’t so sure. I’m leaning toward you guys having a different arrangement. I’m dying to know what it was.”
Mrs. Little’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
Maxine furrowed her brow as she caught up to the conversation and spoke for the first time. “Wait ... I’m confused.”
“You weren’t the only one sleeping with Dr. Hopper,” Thistle offered helpfully. “He was doing it with at least twenty of his patients, including Janet. You weren’t special.”
Her cheeks flooding red, Janet took a step back when Maxine’s eyes landed on her. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Janet offered lamely.
“Oh, we know all about the people who were sleeping with Hopper,” Thistle said. “He kept copious notes ... and was a total sleazeball. By the way, there is no such thing as therapeutic sex with your doctor to save your marriage. He was using you.”
“He was not!” Maxine was beside herself. “We were in love.”
“You’re deluding yourself,” Thistle argued. “Tell her, Bay.”
The last thing I wanted to do was insert myself in this conversation. “He was a total tool,” I said finally. “He used a lot of women. Don’t take it personally.”
“Ugh!” Instead of thanking Thistle for telling her the truth, Maxine stormed in her direction. “You take that back! I’m not going to stand for you sullying the name of the man I love.”
“Oh, this is getting out of hand,” Clove complained, skirting behind Thistle so she wouldn’t end up with a fist in the face. “I can’t be a part of this if it turns violent. I’m getting married in a few months. My face needs to look perfect for the big day.”
“Your face won’t look so perfect when I rub dirt all over it,” Thistle warned.
“I always look perfect.”
“Or when I go after your dress because you simply won’t shut up,” Thistle hissed.
That did it. Those were fighting words for Clove. “You’re dead to me, Thistle!”
“Oh, how will I ever get over the heartbreak?” Thistle drawled, pressing her hand to her chest. “The sadness will never end and I will walk the Earth a lonely and broken woman.”
I was trying to figure out a way to stop the inevitable fight between Thistle and Clove (and possibly Maxine, who looked to be considering a physical attack) when I realized there was more than one fight brewing.
“If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you leave,” Mrs. Little warned Aunt Tillie, closing the distance between them and planting her feet directly in front of my glowering great-aunt. “We both know I’m stronger than you.”
Aunt Tillie’s snort was derisive. “In what alternate universe?”
“In every universe.”
“You’re dreaming.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mrs. Little launched herself at Aunt Tillie. She was surprisingly quick for a woman in her eighties. That didn’t mean she wasn’t breakable. If a healthy Mrs. Little was insufferable, I couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she actually had something to complain about … like a broken hip because of a fight.
With that in mind, I took two long strides forward in an effort to intercept her, shooting out both hands to grab her by the shoulders. “Mrs. Little, think about this. You don’t want to fight. It’s beneath you.”
Unfortunately for me, my hands missed their intended targets because of her size and I inadvertently gave her a hard shove rather than catching her. Mrs. Little’s furious eyes caught fire as they locked with mine.
“If you want to play that way,” she sneered.
“Wait a second ... !”
The brawl was on.
BY THE TIME LANDON AND Chief Terry arrived, the fight had been raging for five minutes and at least five porcelain unicorns had paid the ultimate price and hit the ground during the melee. Most of the women involved gave up after a few scratches. They weren’t used to fighting, and we had stamina on our side. Mrs. Little and Maxine refused to back down, though, and they looked a little worse for wear when law enforcement arrived.
Of course, we didn’t exactly look put-together ourselves.
“What happened?” Chief Terry, bewildered, planted his hands on his hips as he looked around the store. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
“Ask them,” Melanie offered, pointing a shaking finger in our direction. She’d wisely stayed out of the fight. That didn’t mean she wasn’t injured. Janet accidentally caught her with a wild punch when she tried to sidestep the action. She went down hard ... and was barely back on her feet before Chief Terry put an end to the brawl.
Chief Terry looked anxious when his eyes tracked to me. “Bay?”
I shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “Well ... .”
“Don’t give her grief,” Aunt Tillie ordered, her temper on full display as she thumped her chest and silently challenged Mrs. Little to go again. “She didn’t start this.”
“Who did?” Landon asked as he leaned over to study my face. His finger was gentle as he traced it over my bruised lip. “Are you okay?”
“Why are you asking her that?” Melanie challenged, her voice turning shrill. “She came in here and attacked without provocation.”
“Um ... wait a second.” Thistle, her hair standing on end thanks to Maxine’s insistence on trying to pull it, held up a hand to quiet the gathering. “You might not be happy about what happened — the Goddess knows it’s not one of our finer moments — but you can hardly blame this on Bay. She was trying to stop the fight.”
“She kicked me!”
Janet yelled.
“Only because you bit me,” I fired back, holding up my arm for emphasis. “Who bites someone? I mean ... come on!”
Landon snagged my arm and studied what were clearly teeth indentations on my forearm. “Did she break the skin?”
I shook my head.
“Well, then you probably won’t get an infection. But it might not hurt to have it looked at.”
“I don’t think my dignity can take that hit,” I admitted. “I’m fine.”
Landon sighed and stroked my hair away from my face so he could look deep into my eyes. He must have seen something there that told him I meant business, because he merely shook his head. “Fine. We’ll revisit it later if I feel it’s necessary.”
“Whatever.”
“I still don’t know what happened here,” Chief Terry noted as he paced the small open space separating their group from ours. “You’re all grown women. What were you doing brawling?”
“I blame them,” Melanie announced. “We were minding our own business and having a good time when they stormed in and ... well, quite frankly, said some rather ridiculous things.”
“I have trouble believing Bay said anything ridiculous,” Chief Terry countered, his loyalty rising to the surface.
“She said thirty ridiculous things!”
“To be fair, Bay didn’t say anything ridiculous,” Thistle argued. “She was on her best behavior. She didn’t even throw a single punch until she got bit ... and then it was on. I forgot how good she was in a fight.”
Worried, I risked a glance at Landon out of the corner of my eye and found his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. It wasn’t what I was expecting.
“You guys were all spouting ridiculous nonsense when you walked through the door,” Melanie argued. “I heard it.”
“Bay didn’t say anything.” Thistle was obstinate. “She just stood there. Aunt Tillie said the ridiculous stuff. That’s why we brought her. But I don’t think Aunt Tillie said anything ridiculous. Everything she said today was true.”
“Um ... she did say that Mrs. Little’s hair turns into snakes at night and eat the souls of the young and innocent,” Clove interjected. “That was a little ridiculous.”
“She hasn’t been proved wrong on that,” Thistle argued.
“Right on!” Aunt Tillie gave Thistle an enthusiastic high-five, causing me to smile. They fought with each other so often that I’d forgotten how amusing — and strong — they were when they joined forces.
“Okay, I need to hear this story again from the beginning,” Chief Terry said after a beat, pulling a pad and pencil from his shirt pocket. “We’re going to separate everyone and take statements. We’ll start with ... um.” His eyes tracked over the room and briefly touched on me before landing on Melanie. “We’ll start with you, Ms. Adams. Please come over here and give me your statement. We’ll get to the rest of you in a few minutes.”
I was flabbergasted ... and a little hurt. He always took my statement first. He always used my statement as a measuring stick against all others. When I focused on Landon, I realized he was equally surprised.
“What just happened?”
Landon shrugged. “I guess it makes sense.”
Now he was simply making excuses for his buddy. “How does that make sense?”
“I always take your statement first,” he reminded me. “That’s the normal thing to do ... give your girlfriend preferential treatment. He’s not doing anything out of the ordinary.”
“Yeah, but he always gives me preferential treatment.”
“I guess you’re not so special any longer, are you?” Mirth flitted across Mrs. Little’s face. “How does it feel to be replaced?”
I didn’t like the idea one bit. “Hey, Aunt Tillie, did I ever tell you about the time that Mrs. Little said your wine tasted like sour grapes on strike? She wanted to have your operation shut down and even called the ATF to see if she could get you locked up in a federal facility.”
Aunt Tillie clutched her hands into fists at her sides as Mrs. Little blanched. “No, but I’m on it. There will be no place you can hide this time, Margaret. You’d better start running now.”
Twenty-Two
Chief Terry questioned me second, which was something, but the damage was already done. I was cool and clipped when delivering my responses to his questions. Landon’s distaste for my attitude was evident, but I refused to back down. I obviously didn’t mention the real reason we were at the store — that would’ve opened us up for challenges nobody wanted to face — and when Chief Terry ordered all sides to disperse without arresting anyone, he left a lot of women unhappy. The most obvious was Melanie.
“So ... they’re not even getting a reprimand?” She challenged Chief Terry as he directed us through the front door. “There’s no punishment for what they did? I see how things work.”
“I haven’t decided who will be punished for what,” he clarified, his tone grave. “I need to go through all the reports.”
“They were the aggressors.”
“Except everyone says that Mrs. Little and Maxine attacked first.”
“They came into the store when they weren’t invited.”
“It’s a place of business.”
“Right.” Melanie’s anger was palpable as she shook her head. “I guess I should’ve seen this coming. All the signs were there.”
“What signs?” Frustration bubbled up as Chief Terry gave Aunt Tillie a small push to get her moving. “I’m making them leave. What more do you want from me?”
“You’ll always be more loyal to them,” Melanie pressed. “They’ll always be the priority.”
I wasn’t sure why I missed the signs before, but I recognized them now. She was trying to force Chief Terry’s hand, make him declare her top of the relationship heap, and she wanted him to do it in front of other people. It was beyond disgusting.
“We’re not his priority,” I forced out, wiping the palms of my hands on my jeans. “He questioned you first. Don’t give him crap for doing his job.”
Chief Terry’s eyes widened with surprise. “Aren’t you going to give me crap for doing my job?”
“No.” Weariness momentarily swamped me as I fought to gather my emotions. Landon was right. When I lost control, bad things were more likely to happen. This was the worst time for Hopper to show up, and the way the magic crackled in the back of my head reminded me that it was a distinct possibility. I had to get out of the store and regroup in private. It wasn’t a luxury, but a necessity. “I’m going to head back to The Whistler to do my job. If you want to arrest me later, that’s where you’ll find me.”
I was stiff as I pushed past Aunt Tillie, refusing to glance over my shoulder and meet Chief Terry’s conflicted gaze. I felt it resting on my shoulders, but I was emotionally wrung out and I didn’t want to risk something terrible happening if I lost control.
“I’ll walk you back to The Whistler,” Landon offered, falling into step with me when I reached the sidewalk.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He linked his fingers with mine, his lips curving as we put distance between us and the gaggle of women inside the Unicorn Emporium. “So ... how many people did you smack around?”
“Nowhere near as many as I wanted.”
“Did you win?”
“What do you think?”
LANDON WAS WORRIED. Perhaps “worried” was the wrong word. He was definitely concerned by my silence, but he didn’t press me. He left me to my imaginary work at the newspaper office and promised to check on me in a few hours, after I had time to calm down.
I watched from the front lobby window as he trudged across the parking lot, crossing paths with Chief Terry close to the sidewalk and slowing his pace so they could talk. Whatever words passed between them, Landon wasn’t happy. He gestured wildly at one point and jabbed a finger toward the newspaper building. I had no doubt who he was talking about. He was taking up my cause with Chief Terry, something
that had never been necessary before.
It seemed I had been supplanted, and it wasn’t a good feeling. Melanie was Chief Terry’s priority now, and even though I understood it, that didn’t mean I could accept it. She definitely had to go.
With nothing better to do, I headed to my office. Earlier in the day we’d moved the pilfered files from Hypnotic because we were worried someone might discover them. Even though the newspaper building was also open to the public, the odds of someone wandering into Hypnotic were much greater.
I was fired up, the aches and pains I incurred during the brief skirmish in the Unicorn Emporium serving as fuel. I decided to use the burst of energy to my advantage and go through the files again, to find a key tidbit I might have missed.
It was mostly a losing endeavor. I went through all of Hopper’s sex partners and found nothing out of the ordinary. Er, well, nothing other than the obvious. He was still a perverted jerk who took advantage of troubled marriages so he could get what he wanted without caring about what these couples needed. If he were still alive I would’ve reported him to the medical board and had his license stripped.
The last file in the stack was Mrs. Little’s. It was thick, a lot of notations in the margins. While I found her ruminations on the state of her life enlightening, it was nothing I hadn’t already heard or suspected.
Mrs. Little went to high school with Aunt Tillie. They were rivals of sorts — just like Lila and me, although I didn’t discover my true strength until I was much older, so the fights were largely one-sided — and they apparently hated each other with a fiery passion. Mrs. Little claimed that Aunt Tillie was jealous of her upon first meeting. I didn’t believe that. Aunt Tillie always taught us that jealousy was a useless emotion.
“It doesn’t matter what others have or how they achieved it,” she once told us. “It matters what you can do, the limitations you set upon yourself. Don’t worry about others. You do you. Everything else will fall into place.”
Witch, Interrupted Page 21
