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

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I … don’t know.” That was the truth. All I’d ever wanted to do was be a reporter. I thought that would entail gruesome murders, bribery trials and late-night fires. Sure, I got to cover some of those things, but the pace in Hemlock Cove was much slower. I spent most of my time writing what could loosely be described as advertorials for area businesses. “Maybe I could open my own shop.”

  “That’s an idea.” Landon followed me to the passenger side of the vehicle so he could open the door and help me in. “What kind of store would you like? Right off the bat, I’m thinking you should do something with bacon.”

  I stared at him a moment, unblinking. “If I did that, every man in the neighborhood would be all over me. They might try to lick my face, like someone else I know.”

  Landon’s enthusiasm waned. “I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll think of something else, although … you’re not going to lose your job. I won’t let it happen.”

  I met his steady gaze, unsure how to respond. He was wallowing in guilt due to everything that happened. This simply compounded the issue. “You might not have a say in this one. You know that, right?”

  “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  Landon was determined, but so was I. He needed to understand that this wasn’t his fault. “Landon, this isn’t because of you.” I grabbed his hand so he couldn’t walk away. “Brian has been plotting to get rid of me from the beginning.”

  Landon’s eyes flashed. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been expecting it from him for some time,” I explained. “He never really wanted the newspaper for what it was. It makes a profit, you see, but for someone like Brian who wants a buttload of money, it doesn’t make enough profit.

  “I could easily live off the profits of the newspaper and be comfortable and happy,” I continued. “To him it’s not enough, though. I know he wanted to sell the newspaper to someone else at one point, but he couldn’t … because of me.”

  Landon tipped his head to the side, considering. “I know some of this, but I think you need to refresh my memory.”

  “William always liked me,” I explained. “He thought I had good instincts. That’s what he said, at least. He used to work for one of the big daily newspapers in Detroit. He genuinely loved breaking news stories and political corruption.

  “I started interning for free in high school,” I continued. “My mother was fine with it, because she thought it would keep me out of trouble. She only had a problem when she realized that my interest in the news business would ultimately take me out of Hemlock Cove, or I guess it was Walkerville at the time.”

  “You didn’t like being away from the town,” Landon prodded. “You told me that. I saw that when we were trapped in Aunt Tillie’s memories.”

  “No, I didn’t like being away from the town,” I conceded. “I liked some of the news stories, though. I liked that things were always hopping. Anyway, when I came back, I thought I would be working for my mother and aunts. I had no marketable job skills, after all. At least none for this area.

  “Instead, William approached me about serving as the lone reporter and head of the newsroom,” I continued. “That basically meant I was doing all of the work alone. Still, the idea of being able to do what I wanted was fun. And, let’s face it, Hemlock Cove has its share of weird stories. So, three weeks out of every month, I’m bored with my work. The fourth is always fun, though.”

  Landon tucked a strand of my flyaway hair behind my ear. “It sounds as if you really liked William.”

  “He was a great guy, and he took care of me even after his death,” I replied. “He stipulated in his will that as long as I was with The Whistler, Brian couldn’t sell the newspaper. He also made sure that Brian couldn’t fire me.”

  Landon shifted his eyes back to the building. “If that’s true then … .”

  “Brian claimed his grandfather has some line in the will about being convicted of a crime or something,” I explained. “He’s not wrong about me not being able to cover a story in which I’m the prime murder suspect.”

  Landon balked. “You cannot be serious. He’s going to publish that story?”

  “He doesn’t have a choice but to publish the story,” I answered. “I am a suspect. A murder happened in front of my home. He can’t ignore that. That’s not how the news business works.”

  “No, but … .” Landon dragged a hand through his hair. “As long as you’re not convicted, Brian can’t do anything, right?”

  I held my palms out and shrugged. “I’m not sure. I need to look at a copy of the will. I have it back at the guesthouse, but I’m not sure we can get in so I can snag it.”

  “I’ll find a way for you to get it,” Landon said, rubbing his hands over my shoulders. “I won’t let him do this to you, Bay.”

  “It might already be done.” I opted to be pragmatic instead of emotional. “Still, let’s not freak out until I read the will, okay? Brian could be talking out of his ass.”

  “Brian is going to be getting my foot in his butt if he’s not careful,” Landon muttered, dropping a kiss on my upturned mouth. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t want you to worry about this.”

  “I’m not worried.” That was true. I was more numb than anything else.

  “Okay. Fasten your seatbelt and we’ll head straight to the inn. I think we both need some food to bolster us.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  By the time Landon moved to the other side of the Explorer and opened the door, I had enough time to collect my thoughts and shift my attack plan.

  “I’m going to rip his hair out and feed it to him,” I muttered, rubbing my hands together in front of the heating vents as Landon fired up the engine and spared me a glance. “I’m going to make all of his body hair fall out and let Aunt Tillie curse him to smell like cabbage.”

  Instead of reacting out of worry, Landon grinned. “There’s my sweetie.”

  I didn’t as much as look in his direction. “Brian Kelly will be sorry he ever met me.”

  “He’s going to be sorry he ever met both of us,” Landon muttered, pulling toward Main Street. “I can’t wait until we let Aunt Tillie off her leash. She’ll terrorize him to the point of no return.”

  Hmm. That was a fun thought.

  THE LOBBY was empty when we entered the inn. Landon and I headed straight for the dining room. It was after breakfast but before lunch, so I found my mother and aunts exactly where I expected them to be, sipping coffee and hanging around the dining room table gossiping.

  “We have a problem,” I announced.

  “Oh, well, I wasn’t sure you were still alive,” Mom drawled, ignoring my call to action. “We cleaned the room yesterday – and you guys had clearly been inside – but when we cleaned this morning we found that you hadn’t slept in the bed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Landon offered. “We got caught up and stayed at the Bayside Bed and Breakfast.”

  “A competing inn?” A horrified Twila clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “The dead woman’s mother owns it. We had hoped to find some information,” Landon explained.

  “Did you?” Marnie asked.

  “Well, I technically stole mail and Bay stole some sort of book in an envelope that we still haven’t looked at, so I can’t answer that just yet,” Landon replied. “The day is still young, though.”

  “And yet I feel old,” Mom muttered, never moving her gaze from my face. “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I … .” Crap. This was the last thing I needed. My plate was already overflowing – and with mostly my least favorite foods. We’re talking cooked carrots, guacamole and hummus here.

  “It’s not her fault.” Landon immediately jumped to my defense. “We made the decision to stay there on the fly. We ran to Target to pick up new things. If you want to blame someone, blame me.”

  “Oh, I blame you for quite a lot these days,” Mom shot back. “I just … I’m not really happy with you right now Landon.”

  �
��Mom … .”

  Landon held up a hand to quiet whatever I was about to say. “Your mother has a right to let me know how she feels.”

  “Oh, well, thank you for your permission, Landon,” Mom deadpanned, her eyes flashing. “Do you have any idea what you put us through when you decided to go undercover and left Bay floundering for a month?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Landon offered, keeping his voice low and even. “That was the last thing I wanted. I missed her so much … but my boss and I came to an understanding that if I did this job I would probably get a promotion and be taken out of the running for other undercover operations.”

  Mom stilled, the admission clearly surprising her. “Oh. I … did you tell Bay?”

  “No, and that was a mistake,” Landon said. “I wanted to surprise her. I wanted to make a big deal out of it.”

  “That’s kind of sweet.” Twila sighed as she topped off her coffee. “I knew you couldn’t be the tool Aunt Tillie kept accusing you of being.”

  “That’s possibly very flattering,” Landon said, although he kept his gaze on Mom. “Winnie, you know I wouldn’t hurt Bay for anything, right? I didn’t mean for this to spiral so far out of control. This wasn’t what I had planned.”

  “Oh, well, of course it wasn’t.” Mom reached across the table and patted Landon’s arm, offering him the solace he so desperately needed. “This isn’t your fault. You tried to do a good thing for Bay and it blew up in your face.”

  Landon risked a sidelong look in my direction. “Yeah, and it keeps blowing up.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Marnie looked wary. “Has something else happened?”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I answered automatically.

  Landon shook his head as he squeezed my hand. “It is a big deal. We stopped at The Whistler on our way out here. Brian Kelly has … relieved … Bay of her position at the newspaper.”

  There was an immediate intake of breath, but no one spoke. I did hear the unmistakable sound of a growl and when I turned to the swinging door that separated the dining room and kitchen, I found Aunt Tillie standing there. The look on her face was chilling.

  “How much did you hear?” I asked.

  “Enough to know that Brian Kelly will be trying to bring body casts back into style in the foreseeable future,” Aunt Tillie answered, striding into the room. “What exactly did that little turd say?”

  I balked at the fire in her eyes. Aunt Tillie was the master of payback, and she looked to be ready to earn whatever belts they doled out for revenge in karate school. “Aunt Tillie … .”

  Landon looked thrilled to see Aunt Tillie’s attitude directed at Brian rather than himself. “He used some language from William Kelly’s will that said that he could fire Bay if she’s convicted of a crime.”

  “She’s pretty far from being convicted of a crime,” Mom pointed out.

  “And she’s going to stay that far away,” Landon said. “Bay says she has a copy of the will at the guesthouse. We’re going to try to get it after lunch – we’re starving, by the way – and go from there.”

  “Why didn’t you eat lunch at this fancy new inn you stayed at?” Mom sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Who cares about that?” Aunt Tillie challenged, scorching Mom with a dark look. “It’s not the time to get your knickers in a twist because Bay is in her twenties and didn’t bother to call before spending the night at a nearby inn with her boyfriend. I mean … come on. Grow up, Winnie.”

  Mom had the grace to look abashed as Aunt Tillie circled the table, sitting in the open spot next to me instead of her regular position at the head of the table.

  “What are you going to do to Brian?” I asked. I could see Aunt Tillie’s mind working from here – and it was a terrifying visual. Whatever she had planned for Brian Kelly, it wasn’t good.

  “Don’t worry about that flaming pile of cow manure,” Aunt Tillie answered, taking me by surprise as she rested her hand on my wrist. She’d never been overly demonstrative with her affection, so the maneuver caught me off guard. “I’ll handle Brian Kelly. You guys need to focus on the dead girl.”

  “That’s the plan,” Landon said, leaning back in his chair. “When the warrants were issued for the bust after my assignment, two people evaded capture. Becky Patterson was one of them. Doug Lockwood was the other.”

  “That means Doug is probably the killer, right?” Mom asked.

  It was a reasonable assumption, and I wholeheartedly agreed with her. “That’s what I believe. Landon isn’t so sure.”

  “I didn’t say that I thought he was innocent,” Landon clarified, drawing my attention to him. “I think it’s very possible he’s guilty. What I said was that we didn’t know for a fact that Doug is the guilty party, and I would hate to focus all of our attention on him only to find out we missed someone.”

  “He has a point, Bay.” Mom primly folded her hands in front of her. She was clearly renewing her membership in Landon’s fan club. “You shouldn’t rule anyone out until you have more information.”

  “Thank you so much, Nancy Drew,” I deadpanned, earning a stern glare from Landon and cuff at the back of the head from Aunt Tillie. She conveniently missed the knot on my head.

  “Don’t talk to your mother that way,” Aunt Tillie admonished. “She deserves far more than that. She gave birth to you, after all. You should thank your lucky stars every day that she even brought you into this world. I wanted to trade you for a new tractor.”

  Landon snorted as I scowled.

  “You’re so funny,” I drawled. “How did you get to be so funny?”

  “It’s a gift.” Aunt Tillie rubbed her chin. “I have a few ideas for dealing with your problem regarding the dead girl, but I want to put my plan in motion for Brian Kelly first. You know … priorities.”

  “Yes, it’s much more important that you make Brian Kelly’s butt itch than find the person who choked Bay.” Landon’s sarcasm was on full display. “Good choice.”

  “Butt itch?” Aunt Tillie cocked her head. “That’s interesting.”

  “Just out of curiosity, what do you plan to do to him?” I pressed.

  Aunt Tillie’s smile was so big it threatened to swallow her entire face. “Oh, don’t worry about it, dear,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I’m simply going to declare war on Mr. Kelly. Then I’m going to ask him if he’d prefer the bayonet through his eye or in his butt.”

  “Hey, that could work well if you plan on making his butt itch,” Landon noted. “There’s nothing worse for guys than an itchy butt.”

  “I like the way you think,” Aunt Tillie said, wagging a finger. “We’ll talk strategy later. For now … I want to conduct some reconnaissance.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, worried.

  “That’s for me to know and Brian Kelly to find out,” Aunt Tillie said, hopping to her feet. “That boy is going to wish he’d never met me.”

  Landon’s grin was impish as he slid it in my direction. “That’s exactly what we were hoping for.”

  Seventeen

  Mom filled us with comfort food for lunch – homemade chili and grilled cheese sandwiches – and then Landon and I headed toward the guesthouse. We crossed paths with Aunt Tillie again in the family living quarters. She muttered something about needing her shovel and a dress that could fit a man but otherwise ignored us.

  I slipped my hand in Landon’s as we walked the pathway that stretched between the inn and the guesthouse, the idea of returning to my home both exciting and a little terrifying when I thought of the attack. That’s when I realized I’d flaked out and forgotten to ask about Landon’s task from earlier.

  “Did you talk to Chief Terry?”

  “His secretary said he was otherwise engaged,” Landon replied, choosing his words carefully. “I could see him in his office, but he was on the phone. I thought about waiting, but … .”

  “You chickened out,” I finished.

  “I’m not
fond of that expression, but … yeah. I chickened out.”

  I shot him a rueful smile. “Chief Terry likes you. He won’t stay angry forever.”

  “Chief Terry likes me now,” Landon clarified. “He hated me when I first showed up.”

  “That’s because you were undercover in his town. He worried you’d drag me into danger.” I hoped he wouldn’t take Chief Terry’s fury to heart. “He didn’t realize that I would be the one dragging you into danger more often than not.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do and I appreciate it,” Landon offered. “I don’t want you worrying about Chief Terry. We’ll figure things out. We always do.”

  “You can’t spend all of your time worrying about what I’m worrying about. That’s going to cause us to run in a circle, which puts us behind when trying to figure out what’s going on. Right now Chief Terry is involved with the state police, so that’s good for us. He’ll get over being angry.”

  Landon didn’t look convinced. “He blames me for leaving you at the guesthouse by yourself the other night. I blame myself for that. If I’d stayed … .”

  “I told you to go.”

  “I could’ve ignored you,” Landon pointed out. “I felt that chilly wall you built up melting. I knew I could push you into at least pretending to forgive me if I’d stayed.”

  That was news to me. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because that wasn’t fair to you,” Landon replied. “You earned the right to be angry. You’re very rarely unreasonable when it comes to punishing me, or at least making me think about my actions and how they affect you. I also needed to be held accountable for my actions. I didn’t want to take anything away from you, and I wanted to earn my forgiveness.”

  That was an interesting way of looking at things. “Landon, I’m not sure everything I felt while you were gone was reasonable. I knew darned well that you were an FBI agent when I fell in love with you. Potential undercover assignments were part of that deal.”

  “Yeah, but … .”

  “Let me finish,” I prodded, scratching the side of my nose. “I let insecurity get the better of me. I went into the entire thing with a martyr complex, which was wrong. I told myself that I was going to be strong and keep it together because I wanted you to be proud.”