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

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I didn’t kill your sister,” I countered.

  “She was found dead at your home.”

  “That doesn’t mean I killed her,” I argued. “Listen, I understand you’re upset. I don’t blame you … .”

  “You don’t blame me?” Rhonda cut me off, her voice growing louder. “That’s certainly magnanimous of you. I’m so glad you don’t blame me.”

  “No one needs the sarcasm,” Thistle snapped. “It’s the refuge of the weak.”

  Because Thistle essentially ate sarcasm for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day – and snacked on snark between meals – that was rich. Now wasn’t the time to call her on that, though.

  “I am not talking to you,” Rhonda snapped. “Is your name Bay?”

  “It could be,” Thistle shot back, refusing to back down.

  As if sensing that things were about to spiral out of control, Clove cleared her throat to get Rhonda’s attention. She wisely remained where she was stood, arms crossed over her chest to hide the fact that she had square boobs, and forced a friendly smile. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. That doesn’t mean you have a right to attack Bay. She didn’t kill your sister.”

  “Oh, really?” Rhonda tilted her head to the side. “Who should I blame? The state police said that my sister was killed at this woman’s house. That she was found dead on the front walk and this woman was the only one there. Who else could it be?”

  “Your sister was involved with some rough people,” I interjected. “She was running meth with a group of people, including Doug Lockwood. The FBI was conducting an undercover operation, and arrested all but two of the people they were investigating the day she died.”

  “I … um … what does that have to do with Becky?”

  Rhonda was either delusional or purposely obtuse. I wasn’t sure which. “Becky was one of the two people who escaped arrest. Doug was the other. She was facing a long stint in prison when she ran.”

  Rhonda didn’t look particularly surprised by the potential drug charges. That didn’t mean she was ready to accept my word about anything. I guess I couldn’t blame her. “So you think this Doug killed her? Why? Have the police told you anything?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know that I can answer that. The police aren’t sharing anything with me. Doug is still on the run. My boyfriend – the guy with me at the diner – was undercover with the group. I think there’s a possibility Doug killed Becky on my property to warn Landon about going after him.”

  “Landon?” Rhonda’s voice was barely a whisper. “My sister mentioned that name. She said … I think she said … maybe it was just wishful thinking, but she said that she was dating a guy named Landon.”

  I was fairly certain I didn’t want to engage in a semantics argument with a murder victim’s sister so I decided to let the bulk of that slide. “Landon was undercover. He gathered quite a bit of evidence against your sister. Doug was the mastermind.”

  “And Doug killed my sister?”

  “I can’t say that for sure,” I admitted. “That’s the working theory because he’s missing, but we honestly don’t know who killed your sister.”

  “According to the state police, you killed my sister,” Rhonda pointed out.

  “No offense, but why would I do that?”

  “And how would she convince your sister – a woman she met once and only briefly – to come to our house in a different city?” Thistle challenged, her temper flaring. “Bay was attacked in her own home and woke to find your sister dead a few feet away. She’s even more of a victim than your sister the meth dealer.”

  “And you don’t find that convenient?” Rhonda challenged, ignoring Thistle’s insulting tone. “Why would this Doug kill my sister and leave Bay alive?”

  “He’s a freaking sociopath,” Thistle exploded. “Who knows why a sociopath does what he does. I can’t answer that. All I can say is that my cousin didn’t kill your sister. She had no reason to do it.”

  Rhonda wasn’t ready to let it go. “Maybe she was jealous of Becky. Maybe she knew her boyfriend cared more about my sister.”

  “Oh, please.” Thistle’s face was so twisted it reminded me of the time she tried vegemite on a dare. “You said it yourself. Landon spent all his time worrying and watching Bay when they were in your restaurant. Do you honestly believe he cared about your sister? He already knew she was dead at that point.”

  Thistle’s comment came off as cold and callous, but it was also effective.

  “Don’t talk about my sister that way,” Rhonda gritted out. “She was a good person. She was simply … confused. She hadn’t found her place in life yet.”

  “And now she never will,” I pointed out. “It’s not because of me, though. I had nothing to do with it. She got involved with the wrong people, and that came back to bite her. There’s no other explanation for what happened, at least for you.”

  “But … .” Rhonda bit her lip. “The police said it was you. They said they were focused on you. You’re saying someone else killed my sister.”

  “All I can say is that the police are wrong,” I replied. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, but I didn’t kill your sister.”

  “I think you should go,” Clove said, her voice shaky.

  Rhonda’s eyebrows arched. “You’re kicking me out? Your cousin is a murderer, but somehow I’m the bad element, huh?”

  “Our cousin isn’t a murderer.” Thistle’s voice took on a dangerous edge. “You’re not welcome here. Nothing good can come from this interaction. You should definitely go.”

  “And what if I don’t?”

  “Then we’ll call the police and have you removed,” Thistle answered, not missing a beat. “I don’t want to be a hardass – and that’s the first time I ever said that and meant it – but you can’t stay here.”

  Rhonda’s gaze bounced from face to face. She finally heaved out a sigh. “Fine. But we’re not done here. I’m going to talk to the police and make sure my sister’s murder is avenged.”

  I never thought we were done – and when I put myself in her position I pictured myself uttering the same threat. “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry for you and your mother,” I called out.

  “For what it’s worth, you’re a murderer and nothing you say means anything to me,” Rhonda spat. “I’ll see you pay for what you did to my sister.”

  “Okay, well, have a nice day.” Clove faked a bright smile as another set of customers distractedly pushed past Rhonda and let loose with a series of excited exclamations when they saw the inside of the store.

  “And please don’t come again,” Thistle added. “I think it’s best for everyone.”

  “We’ll just have to see about that.” Rhonda turned on her heel and stalked out, pointing herself in the direction of the police station.

  When Thistle turned her eyes to me, I was surprised to find them filled with mirth. “Well, that went well.”

  Apparently she bore witness to a different exchange. What were we supposed to do now?

  Twenty-Six

  I spent the rest of the day pacing Hypnotic, patience turning to frustration relatively quickly. I wasn’t bothered by Rhonda’s accusation as much as the fact that she didn’t seem to have a problem believing I was a murderer when the evidence in Becky’s death didn’t seem to make much sense.

  I didn’t blame Rhonda for being upset. If something happened to Clove or Thistle I’d be all over the person I thought responsible. Of course, I would have a pint-sized mountain of terror in my back pocket – in the form of Aunt Tillie – when I launched my offensive.

  Rhonda’s reaction wasn’t my most immediate problem. No, that award went to the fact that Landon had dropped me off at Hypnotic after breakfast, claiming he wouldn’t be gone long. Now, hours later, Clove and Thistle were readying to close Hypnotic for the day and Landon still hadn’t reappeared.

  “You know you can go over there, right?” Thistle moved to my left and stared at the police station. “I’m s
ure they’re simply busy and Landon figures you’ll go over there when you’re ready.”

  “He said to wait here for him. He’s worried I’ll be attacked again.”

  “It’s not dark yet,” Thistle pointed out. “You’re only walking across the road.”

  She had a point. Still … . “I’ll call him. The last thing I need is another meltdown after last night. He was not happy about the shovel incident.”

  “We’re the only family in the world who can have a ‘shovel incident’ and no one thinks it’s weird,” Thistle said. “By the way, what was that shovel doing out there? It wasn’t there earlier.”

  I shrugged. “It must belong to Aunt Tillie. She’s been doing stuff that involves digging for more than a month now.”

  “And that doesn’t concern you?” Thistle lifted a challenging eyebrow. “It’s Aunt Tillie … and a shovel. What could she possibly be burying?”

  “No one has gone missing as far as I can tell, so I’m not worried about her hiding a body or anything,” I replied. “If Mrs. Little doesn’t open her shop one day, well, then we’ll have a long talk with Aunt Tillie about her shovel shenanigans.”

  “That would make a great book title,” Clove said, giggling. “Everything is done in here. We can close up.”

  “We’ll walk you across the road,” Thistle offered. “Landon can’t possibly find something to complain about if we do that. It’s his fault for forgetting about you all day.”

  Landon could find almost anything to complain about when properly motivated, but I wasn’t in the mood to debate the point. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  The walk across Main Street was quiet, each of us lost in our own minds. Thistle and Clove didn’t drop me at the door as I expected, instead following me inside. Chief Terry’s secretary, a genuinely disagreeable woman who couldn’t stand anyone in the Winchester family, wasn’t at her desk, so I led the way through the back hallway that pointed toward Chief Terry’s office. I heard the low murmur of voices right away, slowing only when I realized there was a third person in the office – and this one was female.

  “I think you’re full of it,” Aunt Tillie barked, causing me to hold up my hand to still Thistle and Clove. We were well out of sight in the hallway and because the building was almost completely empty it wasn’t difficult to make out the conversation. Aunt Tillie’s voice has a tendency to carry, after all. “I’m not suggesting that we tell the state police we used a locator spell to find this guy. I’m simply saying that we can find him first and make up the facts to cover how we did it once we have him in custody.”

  “See, that’s not generally the way law enforcement works,” Landon countered. “We generally like to have facts and evidence in hand before we arrest someone.”

  “And that’s why I hate ‘The Man,’” Aunt Tillie fired back. “We know this guy did it.”

  “No, we don’t,” Chief Terry corrected, firm. “We think he did. We don’t know anything. I will not risk Bay’s life, her future, because we believe one thing when it could very well be someone else.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Aunt Tillie was clearly annoyed. “Bay’s life is already in danger whether you believe this guy is guilty or not. She could’ve been killed the other night.”

  “She wasn’t, though.” Landon’s voice was so low I had trouble making it out. “Whoever attacked her – and we still don’t know for sure that it was a man – wanted us to be distracted by what he or she set in motion that night. The attack on Bay was meant to pull my attention in a different direction.”

  “Bay said she was attacked by a man,” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “I think she would know if a man or a woman grabbed her by the throat and slammed her head into a wall. We’re just lucky whoever it was didn’t crush her brain like a cantaloupe.”

  “You have such a lovely way with words,” Landon muttered. “I believe that Bay was attacked by a man. I saw the bruises around her neck. Only a man would have hands big enough to leave those marks. That doesn’t mean a woman wasn’t there, too.”

  “So, we’re agreed.” Aunt Tillie sounded haughty. “This Doug guy is responsible. I can cast a locator spell and we’ll have him in plenty of time to grab him, give him a good cavity search – which will fall under your purview, not mine – and then kill him and bury him behind the library. I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “We’re not doing any of that,” Chief Terry snapped. “I don’t understand why we even invited her here, Landon. She can’t help us. All she’s doing is forcing us further off the track.”

  “We have no tracks,” Landon shot back. “We don’t have anywhere to look. I spent the entire day here and we have nothing. No one has seen Doug. Not one sighting.”

  “Perhaps he ran,” Chief Terry suggested. “Perhaps he attacked Bay in the manner he did because he wanted you focused on her to make sure he could make a clean getaway. He’s obviously done that. He’s gone.”

  “I would like to point out that you just agreed with me that he’s guilty,” Aunt Tillie interjected.

  Chief Terry ignored her. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Landon, but we have to consider it. We might very well never catch him.”

  “I can’t accept that,” Landon countered. “You know what that means as well as I do. That will ruin Bay’s life, and I cannot live with that.”

  “Oh, please.” I could practically see Aunt Tillie rolling her eyes. “Bay’s life is hardly ruined. She’s had a rough patch of it – that’s for sure – but it’s not ruined. She’ll be perfectly fine now that she has her love monkey back.”

  “That’s Mr. Love Monkey to you,” Landon reminded her, although he didn’t sound playful. “Davis and Noah are determined that she’s guilty. They want to nail her so badly they can practically taste it. In Noah’s case, that’s a double win for him because it hurts me. Davis is merely trying to make his career. His refusal to look anywhere else is lazy, not personal. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt Bay just as badly.”

  “Landon is right, Tillie.” Chief Terry sounded weary. “This could follow Bay forever. The innuendo alone could ruin her, although I don’t think they’ll allow it to get that far. At some point they’re going to pull the trigger and arrest her.”

  “And then I’ll make them pay,” Aunt Tillie threatened.

  “You might not be able to stop it,” Landon said. “I might not be able to stop it. They could … take her … away from us.”

  “If you think I would allow that to happen then you don’t know me at all,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I will not let anyone split apart my family.”

  I pressed my lips together to keep from crying as Clove linked her arm with mine in a show of solidarity.

  “I’m also determined to make sure it doesn’t happen, but we need to move on this,” Landon said. “We need to find Doug.”

  “Then let me cast the locator spell,” Aunt Tillie pressed.

  “But how will we explain how we found him?” Chief Terry countered. “We cannot come up with a feasible explanation for discovering him three states away.”

  “I say we find him and come up with convincing lies after the fact,” Aunt Tillie argued. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to make people believe certain things. You can blame it on me and say I was the one who tipped you off. I’ll testify to it in court and everything.”

  “Yeah, that is a terrifying prospect,” Chief Terry said. “I’m not comfortable doing anything like that, so we’ve got to come up with a different scenario. Does anyone have any ideas that can help?”

  Surprisingly, I found I had an idea. I separated from Clove and Thistle before they could mount an argument to stop me, and barely blinked as Landon and Chief Terry widened their eyes in stunned disbelief as I entered the office. “I have an idea.”

  “Where did you come from?” Chief Terry asked, flustered. “Were you listening?”

  Aunt Tillie snorted. “Of course they were listening. I raised them. They’ve been in the hallway for the past five min
utes.”

  “You knew?” Landon was furious as he stepped in my direction. “I didn’t forget you Bay. We’ve simply been … busy.”

  I fought to maintain my cool façade. “I heard. You have nothing, and you think they’re going to come get me soon.”

  “Sweetie, I won’t let them take you.” Landon was serious, but I knew in my heart he wasn’t omnipotent. He couldn’t stop the inevitable if Davis decided to arrest me.

  “You can’t stop it,” I said. “Our job is to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

  “You said you had an idea,” Thistle said, appearing in the doorway behind me. “What’s your idea?”

  “I’ve been looking around for Becky’s ghost,” I admitted, licking my lips. “I thought there was a chance she might show up because her death was so violent. I thought maybe that was the shadow I saw last night – although I obviously couldn’t say that in front of Agent Glenn. I haven’t seen her around, though, which means she’s probably not hanging around as a ghost.

  “I think we can all agree she was killed on the property – after I was knocked out, of course – so that means she probably visited the house with my attacker,” I continued.

  “You don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to,” Landon offered, grabbing my hand. “It’s okay.”

  “I’m not afraid to talk about it. That’s not really the point of what I’m saying. Becky has to know who attacked her. There’s no way she doesn’t know who did it. If we really want to find out who the culprit is, we need to ask her.”

  “Oh, ugh!” Clove slapped her hand to her forehead. “I can already tell where this is going, and I want to be the first to say that I think it’s a bad idea. This always goes wrong for us.”

  “Oh, shut your hole,” Aunt Tillie ordered, her eyes thoughtful as they locked with mine. “This is a great idea.”

  I balked. “You don’t even know what the idea is yet.”

  “You want to conduct a séance,” Aunt Tillie said, not missing a beat. “You want to ask Becky who killed her. I should’ve thought of it from the beginning, but I was distracted by other stuff.”