Murder Most Witchy (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 10)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “No.” I answered automatically. Even when at my worst I knew he loved me, wanted to be with me. He would show up as soon as possible. “He loves me. He’s working as quickly as he can.”

  “Then perhaps you shouldn’t push him to the point where he might make a mistake,” Aunt Tillie suggested. “You need to keep it together. You’re the even-tempered one in this family – which is saying absolutely nothing, because we’re all crazy on some level – but we don’t work well as a whole when you’re off balance.”

  That was almost a compliment. I couldn’t help but smirk when I met her gaze. “Thanks … I think.”

  “You need to find something to distract you,” Aunt Tillie said. “That’s why you’re spending the day with me.”

  All of the goodwill I’d been building up over the past few minutes died a quick death. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

  Aunt Tillie puffed out her chest, insulted. “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

  “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter.”

  Aunt Tillie ignored my tone. “I think it will be good for you. We’ll spend the day together and you’ll feel better about ‘The Man’ and his dangerous undercover assignment when we’re done.”

  I had my doubts. “Am I being punished for whining?”

  Aunt Tillie chuckled, amused. “You’re a funny girl. We’ll have a good time.”

  I was understandably dubious. “And where are we going?”

  Aunt Tillie didn’t immediately answer, instead drifting through the doorway and back toward the dining room. “You need to change your clothes if we’re going out in public. I don’t want to be embarrassed.”

  That was rich coming from a woman who wears combat boots and carries a whistle regularly. “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll have fun. Trust me.”

  Two

  I promised myself I would be a good sport for whatever Aunt Tillie had planned – as long as it wasn’t illegal. My resolve lasted exactly thirty seconds before I realized where we were.

  “Oh, man!”

  Aunt Tillie pursed her lips but refrained from rolling her eyes as she stared at the bustling corn maze. “I think it’s cool.”

  “The last corn maze we visited had a dead body in it,” I reminded her, my mind traveling back to the previous year. That’s how Landon and I had met. He’d been undercover with a biker gang trafficking in meth and other sundry activities. I’d been covering the opening of a new corn maze and discovered a body. Even though he was supposed to be undercover and talked a big game, I knew there was something different about Landon right from the start. “I’ve sworn off corn mazes.”

  “No one is asking you to write a story about this one.” Aunt Tillie searched inside her large purse, her lips moving as she said something to herself that I had no interest in hearing. “Besides, this isn’t just a corn maze. Look around.”

  I did as instructed, fiddling with the zipper on my hoodie as I scanned the large parcel of land. The farm – Barnaby Mill – was located between Hemlock Cove and Traverse City. It was just off the main highway, and the billboard touted fresh produce, fine antiques, naked furniture and the corn maze to end all corn mazes. Given the size of the crowd, the advertising offensive appeared to be working. “So … what? Are we here for fresh vegetables or something?”

  “No, whinebox, we’re here because I have my eye on a new plow and I’m supposed to meet the owner of the property so I can see his,” Aunt Tillie replied. “This is a business trip. I thought it might do you some good to get out of Hemlock Cove, since all you do is sigh and moan because everything reminds you of Landon. You fancy yourself some tragic romantic heroine. All I hear is that you think you see him on every corner, which means you’re probably crazy, not romantic.”

  I didn’t bother to hide my scowl. “I hardly think I’m that bad.”

  “Put yourself in my place and then imagine I whined as much as you have over the past three weeks. Then say that again with a straight face.”

  I did my best to do just that, and when I did I realized she had a point – which was almost painful. “I don’t mean to be such a whiner,” I offered. “It’s just … I miss him.”

  “I know you miss him.” Aunt Tillie adopted a pragmatic tone. “I get it. You love him. He loves you. Everything is all bacon and roses when you’re together. He’s got a job to do, though. You knew that going in.”

  “I hate it when you’re right,” I muttered.

  Aunt Tillie snickered as she patted my arm. “Probably as much as I hate it when you’re right. While I hate to take the side of ‘The Man,’ in this case I think you’re being unreasonable.”

  “I thought you hated taking the side of any man.”

  “You’re not wrong.” Aunt Tillie scanned the busy crowd. “Will you look at this place? I’ve never seen so many people at a corn maze.”

  I followed her gaze, my stomach unsettled, although I had no idea why. “I don’t think anyone is all that interested in the maze,” I pointed out after a beat. “No one is even going into the maze or wandering in that direction. I think the barn with the furniture and the farmer’s market on the other side of the parking lot appear to be the big draws.”

  Aunt Tillie knit her eyebrows as she stared in the direction of the maze. “That’s probably because there are hoodlums hanging out by the maze opening. Look at those ruffians. Someone needs to put a boot in their behinds.”

  I struggled to maintain a sense of calm as I stared at the individuals in question. They were dressed in denim and leather, motorcycles parked nearby in the adjacent parking lot. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but this reminds me of when I first met Landon.”

  Aunt Tillie arched an annoyed eyebrow. “If you start crying I’ll punch you.”

  “Most great-aunts would say nice things, like ‘if you start crying I’ll give you a hug,’” I pointed out. “If you were a good great-aunt you would buy me a cup of tea and a doughnut.”

  “If I were a good great-aunt I wouldn’t be me.”

  “This is true.”

  “Besides, Landon was only pretending to be a ruffian,” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “He wasn’t a very good actor, either. You could tell he was a better man than the people he surrounded himself with. I watched him when he thought no one was looking – including you – and all he cared about was keeping you safe.”

  I’d almost forgotten the fact that Aunt Tillie was there when Landon and I met for the first time. She was doing something in the nearby barn she didn’t want anyone to find out about. I didn’t catch sight of her that day, only finding out about her presence when I inadvertently became trapped in her memories with Landon a few months ago.

  “He didn’t know me then,” I reminded her. “He didn’t care about keeping me safe. He cared that no one messed up his case.”

  “I don’t know if you’re telling yourself that because it will make you miss him less or if you actually believe it, but you’re an idiot sometimes.” Aunt Tillie gestured toward the barn. “Come on. The plow is supposed to be in there.”

  I followed her, irritation bubbling up. “You make it sound as if you believe Landon and I were destined to be together.”

  “I do believe that.” Aunt Tillie was matter-of-fact. “You can’t tell me you don’t believe in fate.”

  I pursed my lips as I trailed behind her. She wasn’t even five feet tall – a half-inch holding her back – but she packed a lot of attitude in such a diminutive frame. “I don’t know that I’ve given it a lot of thought,” I hedged. “Do you believe there’s one person for everyone?”

  Aunt Tillie shrugged. “I think that’s too simplistic. I think it’s more apt to say that you always find the person you’re meant to find. I mean … if there’s only one person out there that you’re meant to spend your life with that’s leaving a lot up to chance.

  “I happen to believe the universe steps in and makes sure you find your mate at the exact right tim
e,” she continued. “You found Landon at a time when you were looking for something else. Sure, you didn’t know it. You thought you were going there for a boring story. You got a lot more, though, didn’t you?”

  I certainly did. Even after meeting Landon and recognizing the attraction I felt for him, that didn’t mean things went smoothly. He was shot while protecting me, for crying out loud, and that was before he found out about the Winchester family’s witchy secret. He left for a bit after that, returning only after he got his mind around things. He’d never faltered since, but I still couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve been different if I turned left instead of right in that maze the first day.

  “Do you think he was looking for me?” The question popped out of my mouth even though I couldn’t come up with an acceptable reason to ask it. Perhaps I needed validation because I was on such shaky emotional footing. I couldn’t be sure, but I needed to hear something. I had a feeling Aunt Tillie would know what that was.

  My elderly great-aunt shifted her eyes over her shoulder, pinning me with an unreadable look. “Don’t you?”

  “I … don’t know.”

  “I think you do know,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I think at some point you felt the pieces that made up your heart slip into place, everything coming together at once as if it was always supposed to be that way.”

  “I think that’s an incredibly schmaltzy thing to say, especially if you’re the one saying it.”

  “What can I say? We’re the schmaltz family sometimes. There’s no sense arguing about it.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I followed her, my eyes widening when I caught sight of the furniture offerings inside. “Oh, wow.” I exhaled heavily when my gaze landed on a reclaimed wood bookshelf propped against the barn’s west wall. “Did you know all of this was in here?”

  “I knew they had furniture.” Aunt Tillie works overtime to look unimpressed at most times, but even she seemed enamored with the shelf. “This stuff is neat.”

  “Definitely.” I ran my fingers over the knotted wood. “This would look great on that big wall in the guesthouse.”

  “Are you considering changing things up when you’re the only one left living there?” Aunt Tillie asked. In truth, I’d been giving my future living arrangements a lot of thought.

  “It will be weird to live there alone,” I admitted after a few moments of contemplation. “I moved to the guesthouse because I needed a place to stay when I came back to Hemlock Cove and I didn’t have a lot of money. I’ve been saving since then.”

  Aunt Tillie snapped her head in my direction, surprised. “Are you going to buy your own place?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to answer. “I’m considering maybe renting a place in Traverse City.” It was the first time I admitted anything of the sort, and I expected Aunt Tillie to melt down … or at least tell me I was stupid for throwing away a prime piece of property in Hemlock Cove, especially when I lived there for free. She did neither.

  “Because you want to be closer to Landon.”

  I wanted to deny the charge, but it seemed like a waste of time. I didn’t want to leave Hemlock Cove – after living in Detroit for several years, I realized how much I loved the small town – but being away from Landon became more and more difficult as time passed.

  “He can’t leave Traverse City because there’s a residency requirement that goes along with his job,” I explained. “I think he would like to live in Hemlock Cove, but it’s not a possibility.”

  “So you want to uproot your life for him?” Aunt Tillie’s tone was far from accusatory, but the way she phrased the question set my teeth on edge.

  “I want to be with him.”

  “Have you talked to him about this?”

  “I … no.”

  “Don’t you think you should?”

  “I don’t want him to think that I’m pressuring him,” I admitted. “If I bring it up, he might think that I’m trying to force his hand. If I get my own apartment in Traverse City it will hopefully be a happy surprise.”

  “And a complete and total waste of money,” Aunt Tillie fired back. “If you’re going to move to Traverse City, don’t you think you two should talk about it so you can get a place big enough for the both of you?”

  That had been my initial plan, but the more I thought about broaching the subject with Landon, the more uneasy I got. “Don’t you think that’s putting undue pressure on him?”

  Aunt Tillie immediately started shaking her head. “I think you’re an idiot.”

  I balked. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “I feel as if you’re an idiot.” Aunt Tillie tugged a hand through her short-cropped hair. “I swear I don’t know how I raised you three younger girls to be such morons sometimes. It’s as if you don’t think before you speak.”

  “That’s ridiculous coming from you.”

  “And yet I’m not the one being an idiot,” Aunt Tillie countered. “Bay, for crying out loud, do you really think Landon wants you to move to Traverse City and not share the same roof? For that matter, do you really think he wants you to move to Traverse City at all?”

  That thought hadn’t even occurred to me. Er, well, it had. I considered the fact that he might not want me living in the same town. I discarded it right away, though, because the idea made me sick to my stomach. “You think he likes the fact that we live in different towns.”

  Aunt Tillie made a “well, duh” face that would’ve caused me to laugh under different circumstances. “I think that he wants you to talk about things like this before you make a decision. This right here, young lady, would be an example of one of the things that drives him crazy.”

  I didn’t bother to hide the fact that I was offended. “Excuse me?”

  Aunt Tillie clearly wasn’t bothered by my tone. “You heard me. It’s just like when you freaked out because you thought he was going to move out of state without talking things over with you, that he got transferred and was simply going to break up with you and go on his merry way.”

  “How do you even know about that? Were you eavesdropping?”

  Aunt Tillie ignored my question. “Bay, I know I say that Clove is the kvetch, but you’re often the kvetch. I think the problem is that you’re usually the easiest one to deal with and sometimes I forget that you can melt down with the best of them. You get that from me.”

  “You say that as if it’s a good thing.”

  “It is a good thing, because you need a venting mechanism and this is yours,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “You need to discuss your plan with Landon. I’m not saying he’s the boss – for the record, the man is never the boss – but he should have a say in this before you do something stupid.”

  “What if he doesn’t want me to move to Traverse City?”

  “Then at least you’ll know and won’t waste money on something that’s not going to work out,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Do you know what your problem is?”

  “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

  “You’ve got that right. Your problem is that you can’t see what’s right in front of your face. I know part of that comes from the abandonment factor. Your father left when you were a kid, and now you’re worried Landon will do the same.

  “What you don’t seem to understand is that Landon will never leave,” Aunt Tillie continued. “He did it the one time because he was confused. You really can’t blame the boy. He had no idea it was going to happen the way it happened, and he didn’t so much as have an inkling about magic before meeting us. He needed time to think. He came back, though. I always knew he would.”

  “I hardly think … .”

  Aunt Tillie cut me off with a shake of her head. “You’re being a worrywart, Bay, and it’s not attractive. You need to suck it up. Landon is doing his job. You’re hardly alone, because you have us. You need to let it go.”

  I stared at her a moment, dumbfounded. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to be mature.”<
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  “And you’re failing miserably.” Aunt Tillie turned her attention back to the barn. “Now, look around and buy something frivolous. I don’t care what it is, but it had better be something totally wasteful. They say that retail therapy is good for the soul … and you definitely need some sort of therapy. I’m going to see a man about a plow, and then I’ll find you.”

  I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. “Fine.”

  “Great.”

  “Good.”

  Aunt Tillie’s smirk was inescapable. “You hate it when I’m right, don’t you?”

  “I pretty much hate you regardless right now.”

  “I can live with that.”

  I tamped down my irritation as I wandered through the building, doing my best not to follow Aunt Tillie because I didn’t want her to think I was pathetic and shadowing her for lack of anything better to do. I loitered next to the bookshelf for a long time, something wistful snapping off inside of me as I stared. I wanted it … badly. I couldn’t guarantee I’d have room for it if I moved, though. I needed to be pragmatic.

  Even though the barn was open and airy I felt smothered, so I headed back toward the parking lot. I figured I could get a cup of hot chocolate and wait for Aunt Tillie near the car. It was easier to breathe outside, though only marginally. I remembered seeing a hot chocolate stand when we pulled in, and I scanned the area to reacquaint myself with its location once I hit sunlight.

  I wasn’t outside long – only a few seconds, in fact – when I felt a heavy weight on my shoulders. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and when I turned, I found myself staring into a familiar set of eyes.

  He was across the parking lot, long legs clad in denim and a black leather jacket hanging off his shoulders. I would’ve recognized the long hair anywhere, the high ridge of his cheekbones as he laughed at something one of the biker dudes standing next to him uttered.

  My mouth dropped open when Landon and I locked gazes, time ceasing its inevitable ticking forward. I felt as if I was walking on thin air as I tried to gain control of my faculties, my heart racing when I saw the blonde standing on Landon’s right side lean in to whisper something to him.