Murder Most Witchy (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 10)
Page 15
“We’re going to talk about you snapping your fingers as if I’m a dog later,” I whispered, annoyance bubbling up.
Landon didn’t respond, instead pressing a hot kiss to my mouth before dragging me out of the office and toward the stairs. The bed and breakfast was quiet – too quiet for a woman who grew up in a house where Aunt Tillie was always sneaking around in the middle of the night. I didn’t say anything until Landon had me at the top of the stairs with our bedroom door open.
“What … ?”
I didn’t get a chance to finish, because Landon shoved me inside, being extra careful as he shut the door and locked it before turning his full attention to me. “I think it would be best for all concerned if you stripped.”
He was so serious I couldn’t help but laugh. “I see.”
“You probably need to do it quickly, because … well … I’m feeling the urge to make up again.” I emptied my hand of the item I carried without paying much attention to it and reached for the hem of my shirt.
“You’d better hope I’m not exhausted tomorrow. If I am … it’s entirely your fault.”
Landon didn’t wait for me to finish undressing, instead crushing his mouth to mine as he pulled me into his arms. “I can live with that.”
I could, too.
Fifteen
I woke on my stomach, my hair plastered to one side of my face and drool pooling on the sheets below my mouth. Landon rested on top of me, his head on my shoulder. The bulk of his weight was on his own hip, which thankfully didn’t hold me down, but his body was large enough to keep mine warm despite the lack of covers.
“Holy crap!”
“Yes, and thank the Goddess while you’re at it,” Landon murmured, pressing a kiss to my shoulder as he rubbed his hand up and down my back. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see the clock.”
“I guess it’s not important.” Landon stretched a bit, but didn’t move his head from my back. He seemed to be lost in the lazy morning, as if he didn’t remember where we were. I understood the inclination but not his reticence to move … especially when I was in desperate need of a bathroom visit.
“Landon?”
“Hmm.”
“I’m going to wet the bed if you don’t get off me.”
“Oh, sorry!” Landon rolled to his back, relieving the immediate worry as I sucked in a breath. “Sweetie, how do you feel?”
And just like that he jolted back to reality.
“Landon, other than the fact that you woke me up three times to … um … make up, I’m fine.” I groaned as I shifted over the side of the bed, my eyes falling on a familiar item as I moved past the clothes I’d dropped on the floor once we returned to the room the previous night. Crap! I forgot all about that. I needed a distraction. “If you ask me how I’m feeling one more time I’ll cut you off again.”
That sounded plausible, right? It’s better to pick a fight that I don’t want rather than admit what I accidentally did.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Landon said, studying his fingernails. “You enjoyed that just as much as I did.”
He wasn’t wrong. To give myself time, I disappeared into the bathroom and made sure to lock the door behind me. After quickly completing my business, I brushed my teeth while struggling over the conundrum facing me.
I could lie. That was always a possibility. I could shove the item in my bag, pretend I was unaware of its existence and dump it the second I got free of Landon’s watchful eye. That didn’t seem like a great way to celebrate the resurgence of our relationship.
I finished brushing my teeth, combing my fingers through my hair and splashing water on my face before returning to the bedroom. Landon remained in his spot on the bed, seemingly lost in his own world. When he dragged his eyes to me he flashed a smile, sobering almost instantly when he read the tilt of my shoulders.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Landon scrambled toward the edge of the bed. “Are you sick? Did you eat too much sugar last night?”
“No. Well, yes,” I conceded. “I felt sick at one point, but then you distracted me with that thing you did with the big licorice rope and I worked through my stomachache.”
“Oh, well, no one can say you’re not dedicated.” Landon relaxed, though only marginally. He cupped the back of my neck as he forced my eyes to him. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me.”
“Don’t be afraid.” I ran my fingers up and down the arm that held me in place. “I accidentally did something … and it’s bad. It’s not end-of-the-world bad or anything, but it’s not good. I’m afraid you’re going to be really upset, and that’s the last thing I want.”
Landon pressed his lips together and exhaled heavily through his nose. I couldn’t decide if he was calming himself because he wanted to make sure he didn’t blow up at me or because he thought he might claw at the curtains in frustration when I admitted what happened.
“Should I tell you or lie?”
Landon arched an eyebrow. He looked amused, but that seemed unlikely. “I want you to tell me. No lies, sweetie. I thought we agreed about that.”
“We did, but I don’t want to fight.”
“We’re not going to fight.”
“You don’t know that,” I countered. “We could fight. This is definitely something we would fight about if we weren’t getting over the biggest fight in the world.”
Landon ran his tongue over his lips as he regarded me. “We won’t fight. I won’t let it happen. I don’t care what you did. Heck, I’ve been with you for a good thirty-six hours straight now. You couldn’t have done anything big.”
“Oh, yeah? What if I forgot to take my birth control pills or something?” I decided to frighten him with something truly terrible so that what I really did would pale in comparison.
Instead of reacting with terror or anger, Landon merely shrugged. “We’ll deal with it. I’m guessing it will be a little girl, huh?” He cracked his fingers as he leaned back. “There are no boys in your family, are there?”
I was flabbergasted. “Are you serious?”
“Last time I checked.”
“You wouldn’t be upset if I forgot my birth control pill?”
“No. It sounds like you’re upset about it, though.”
“I’m not upset about it because it didn’t happen,” I shot back, my temper ramping up. “Cripes! We’re not ready for a kid. We just spent a month apart when I whined and complained and you couldn’t be bothered to pick up a phone. You can’t do either of those things if you have a baby.”
Landon extended a warning finger. “I won’t make the mistake of not calling again. In fact, I’m going to start calling five times a day. I’m going to start calling so much you’ll complain about that for a change.”
“Oh, well, that will fix everything.”
Landon ignored my sarcasm. “We could handle a baby. I know that you’re trying to wind me up because you did something else and you thought that would send me over the edge, so I’m not particularly worried about crossing that baby bridge right now. Tell me what you did.”
I heaved out a sigh and leaned down, picking up the envelope that housed Becky’s mysterious book. I’d forgotten to return it to the crate before fleeing the office last night and now there was no way to return it without drawing attention.
“I … didn’t mean to steal it. I forgot.”
“Oh.” Landon chuckled, the sound low and warm. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I stole evidence. I’m a … stealer.”
“I think thief is a better word, but you’re neither,” Landon corrected. “It was an accident.”
“But … what are we going to do?” I felt strangely helpless.
“Well, we can put it with the two letters I accidentally stole so it won’t be lonely.” Landon’s smile was wry as he leaned over the other side of the bed and returned with the items in question. “I panicked when I heard someone in the lobby, too.”
“Oh
.” Relief washed over me as I leaned forward. “Thank you.”
Landon snickered. “What are you thanking me for?”
“I hate being the only one to screw up. It’s so much better when you do it, too.”
Landon opened his arms so I could lean in for a hug. “Yes, and I’m a trained professional. That’s so much worse than what you did.” He kissed the top of my head. “Do you feel better?”
“So much better.”
“Good.”
We lapsed into silence a moment before the obvious question bubbled up.
“So, do we keep the stuff we stole or own up to what we did?” I asked.
“Oh, we take it,” Landon replied. “There’s no way to put it back, and I refuse to risk getting caught.”
“I like the way you think.”
“Right back at you, sweetie.”
LANDON DROPPED me at The Whistler when we got back to Hemlock Cove, but only after I promised I’d need only a few minutes to collect what I needed to work from The Overlook for the rest of the week. He was resigned to what he had to do next, which was talk to Chief Terry, and I think he wanted to make the first attempt on his own.
We considered staying at the Bayside Bed and Breakfast another night, but there was a strange woman behind the counter when we ventured downstairs. Landon was fairly certain Wanda wouldn’t be back anytime soon. He wasn’t ruling out questioning her, but he wasn’t comfortable doing it today. I didn’t blame him. We could always return after Wanda had time to absorb the news.
Landon walked me to the front door of the office, leaving his Explorer in the parking lot and trudging in the direction of the police department. I realized Chief Terry was angry with him, even understanding it a bit deep down inside. I offered to talk to Chief Terry first, but Landon said it was his responsibility. He promised to pick me up at the newspaper office as soon as possible. Given Chief Terry’s mood, that could be as soon as five minutes.
Brian Kelly, the owner of The Whistler, was in the office. I knew that because his vehicle was in the parking lot. Thankfully his office was located down a separate hallway from mine. I opted to tread lightly as I headed toward my private space.
I unlocked my office, moving to the desk so I could grab a few files and my laptop. I hoped I could make it out of the building before running into Brian, planning to wait in the Explorer for Landon to return, but the second I heard a throat clearing at my open doorway I knew I was trapped.
“Hello, Brian.” I forced a smile as I met his smarmy gaze. I couldn’t stand him. There was no sense pretending otherwise. I was ridiculously fond of his grandfather William, who hired me when I returned to Hemlock Cove after a few years in the Detroit area. William was always nice and sweet, allowing me the freedom to run the news side of the business as I saw fit. Brian was exactly the opposite.
“Hello, Bay.” Brian seemed sunny and happy, but I could practically feel the underlying tension rolling off of him. “I wasn’t sure you still worked here.”
I summoned my limited patience to keep from flying off the handle. That wouldn’t help anyone. “I’ve been a bit distracted, but you don’t have to worry about this week’s edition. I have everything under control.”
“I’m not worried about this week’s edition.”
“Oh, really?” Somehow I had my doubts. “Would you like to know what I have planned?” I didn’t have anything planned because I hadn’t even thought about what story to focus on. I had the story about the corn maze, but that was hardly lead story material, even for a weekly. Still, I could make something up on the fly if I had to.
“No, because I don’t really care what you have planned,” Brian replied, his mouth going grim. “I’ve brought in someone else to handle the news side of things.”
The words were matter-of-fact but they hit me like an iron fist to the stomach. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a murder suspect, Ms. Winchester. I can hardly let you handle the coverage on the murder you committed at your own house.”
The fact that he was calling me “Ms. Winchester” didn’t bode well, but I couldn’t focus on innuendo when I had his words to fuel me. “You don’t have the authority to take decisions on news coverage away from me.”
“I think you’ll find you’re wrong on that front.”
“Your grandfather … .”
“My grandfather gave you free rein over the newsroom when things were going well,” Brian said, cutting me off. “There are stipulations in his instructions for when things go badly.”
That was news to me. “You can’t fire me.”
“I’m not firing you,” Brian countered. “I’m merely … asking you to take a step back for the good of The Whistler. You can’t cover a murder investigation that’s focused on you. It’s unethical, and no reader would ever trust us again.”
“People don’t read The Whistler for murder coverage,” I pointed out. “They’ll watch the evening news if they want updates on what happened. Besides, I didn’t kill Becky Patterson. I was attacked in my own home, and someone else killed her.”
“That’s a convenient excuse, but that’s not what the state police trooper who stopped by to interview me related during our discussion,” Brian supplied. “He seems to think you’ll be arrested … and soon.”
I doubted very much that Davis said anything of the sort to Brian. He was extrapolating for his own needs. Sadly, there wasn’t much I could do about it. “I know what this is.”
“It’s an executive decision,” Brian supplied. “If you’re cleared … .”
He left it hanging. I figured that was for plausible deniability. He’d wanted to wrest control of the newspaper from me since the day he took charge.
“You’re a real son of a bitch,” I snapped. “I know what you’re trying to do. If you think I’m going to let you do it, you’re crazy.”
“And yet you have no say in the matter.”
I shook my head, pressing my tongue into my cheek as I gathered my laptop. “Fine. Do whatever you want. I’ll be at the inn. Quite frankly, you’re the least of my worries right now.”
“I believe that’s company property,” Brian said, his tone chilly as he inclined his head toward the laptop.
He wasn’t wrong. It burned to have it tossed in my face, though. “Fine.” I left the laptop where it was and moved past him, purposely slamming my shoulder into his because he refused to move. “You’ll be sorry you did this. I promise you that.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
I pulled up short when I saw Landon standing in the hallway, his eyes dark as he glanced between Brian and me.
“What’s going on?”
I sucked in a breath to calm myself. “Brian has relieved me of my position.”
Landon’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “He fired you?”
“I temporarily suspended her because she’s a murder suspect,” Brian corrected, his eyes wary as he took in Landon’s aggressive reaction to the news.
Landon pretended he didn’t hear Brian’s clarification, or the tone in which it was delivered. “Can he do that?”
“It appears so.” I extended my hand, mostly because I needed an anchor point so I wouldn’t burst into tears. “We should get back to the inn.”
Landon grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his fury obvious as he flicked his eyes to Brian. “You’re going to be sorry.”
“I don’t believe, as an FBI agent and all, that you have the right to threaten me. I’ll call your superior to find out, though. Just to be on the safe side, of course.”
Landon didn’t back down. “His name is Steve Newton. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you. As for threats, that wasn’t a threat.” Landon kept my hand in his as he stood toe to toe with Brian. He was much taller and stronger, and Brian had the smarts to look fearful as he swallowed hard. “This is the part where I threaten you.”
“You can’t … .”
Landon shook his head to cut off Brian. “I’m not going after you. You’re righ
t. I don’t have cause. I don’t think I can hit you where it hurts anyway, so it would be a wasted effort.”
Brian straightened, smoothing his polo shirt. “I guess that means you can go.”
“We’re going,” Landon said. “By the way, just because it would be a wasted effort for me, that doesn’t mean it will be a wasted effort for Aunt Tillie.”
The change in Brian’s demeanor was overt. He was terrified of Aunt Tillie. Apparently he hadn’t taken her potential rage into consideration when deciding to oust me. “I hardly think … .”
“No, you didn’t think,” Landon agreed. “You will now. Aunt Tillie will love it when Winnie unsnaps the leash she’s had around her aunt’s neck since you arrived in town. Oh, you didn’t know that? Yes, Aunt Tillie was warned about moving against you.”
That wasn’t exactly true, but Brian didn’t need to know that.
“Now you’ll get to deal with Aunt Tillie on her terms,” Landon added, directing me toward the door. “She’s going to enjoy this … and I’m going to enjoy watching it. May the Goddess have mercy on your poor, wretched soul.”
Brian didn’t bother to hide his gulp. “I’m sure … .”
“Shh.” Landon pressed a finger to his lips. “If I were you, I’d start running now.”
With those words Landon wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me out of The Whistler. I could only wonder if it would be the last time I set foot in the building.
Sixteen
“Bay … .”
Landon’s face was a mixture of worry and fury as we walked to his Explorer.
“It’s fine,” I said hurriedly. The last thing he needed was to feel guilty about this on top of everything else. “William left stipulations in his will. I’m sure I can hire a lawyer or something.”
“Yeah, but … .”
I ignored him. “Who knows. Maybe I won’t even go back to the newspaper. Maybe I’ll get a new job.”
The possibility seemed to surprise Landon. “What would you do?”