On a Witch and a Prayer: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short
Page 9
Bay nodded, watching her footing as she navigated around a large rock. “I love you, too.”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I’m going to kill Aunt Tillie,” I said. “When it happens – and it will happen – I want you to know I still love you.”
Bay smiled, not worried in the least. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “We’re finally getting somewhere. You’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
“I slept last night,” I said. Of course, the chocolate martinis helped.
“When you get a case, you dream about it,” Bay said. “You toss and turn. You didn’t last night. Well, you might have. I was passed out so I didn’t notice. You tossed and turned the night before, though.”
I felt bad. “Did I keep you up?”
“I sleep like a rock. You know that. I just … feel … when you’re restless.”
Was that a witch thing? “You feel it?”
Bay nodded. “I feel your heart when you’re sleeping,” she said. “Most of the time it’s peaceful. When something is bothering you, though, I feel that, too.”
“Because you’re a witch?”
“Because I love you.”
Well, she was officially charming again. I shook off my melancholy, making a mental note to reward her with something truly great when we were done with this case. “Is Peg saying anything?”
“She’s said a few things.”
“And?”
“I … I’m not sure you want to hear it.”
Bay’s face was red from the hike, but her eyes were misted with something else. I think it was regret. “I just want to know the truth.”
“She wasn’t murdered,” Bay said. “She doesn’t remember a lot about that time in her life. She says it’s … hard to focus. She remembers going for a walk, though. She also remembers falling and hurting her ankle. She slid down a ravine, and she couldn’t get back up. After about forty-eight hours, she lost consciousness. She never woke up.”
“Are you saying it was an accident?”
Bay nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Was she really apologizing for solving my case? “Why are you sorry?”
“Because you were convinced she was murdered,” Bay said, holding a branch back so I could move ahead of her. “You don’t like to be wrong.”
I barked out a coarse laugh. “You’re right. I don’t like to be wrong. Do you want to know the truth, though?”
“I always want to know the truth.”
“I’ve been wrong so many times in my life I can’t even count them,” I said. “I was wrong when I said that Nickelback was a good band.”
“We were all wrong about that,” Bay said. “That first single misled us all.”
I smiled. She was giving me an out. I wasn’t going to take it, though. “I was wrong when I thought you were up to no good in the corn maze. I was wrong when I thought you were rude. I was wrong when I found out what you were and I left. That was the most wrong I’ve ever been.”
Bay nodded, as though it was the most normal thing ever, but I could tell she was on the verge of tears.
“Do you want to know what I was right about?” I asked, not waiting for an answer. “I was right the first time I saw you and thought there was something … otherworldly about you. I knew when I saw you that you were going to amaze me.
“I was right when I had faith that you were a good person,” I continued. “I was right when I followed my instincts and believed you, even though my head told me what I was seeing couldn’t possibly be real. I was also right when I told you I loved you, although I should have told you sooner – and under better circumstances.”
“You can’t pick your life,” Bay said. “You can only decide how you want to live it.”
“I’m happy with the way I’m living mine,” I said, grabbing her hand.
“Are you sure? I’m a lot of work … and my family is even more.”
“You’re worth the work, and your family is worth the work,” I said. “You’re fun and beautiful and you make me smile. I don’t think there’s anything more important than that.”
“You make me laugh, too,” Bay said.
“Don’t forget to tell me how handsome I am,” I said.
“You’re very handsome.”
“Oh, you two make me want to puke,” Aunt Tillie said.
Despite her tone, I was happy she chimed in when she did. If Bay started crying now, we’d never find Peg’s body. I was ready to put this case to rest and salvage a few hours alone with a blonde witch and her bright smile. “I make myself want to puke a little,” I admitted.
“You’re cute,” Aunt Tillie said, her voice soft. “You remind me of … my Calvin.”
Aunt Tillie often talked about her late husband, and always with reverence and respect. That was probably the best compliment she could ever give me. “Thank you.”
“You’re still a pain.”
“So are you,” I said.
Bay let go of my hand and rushed forward, peering over the edge of a ravine and scanning the area below. “We’re here.”
I followed her, studying the heavy underbrush dubiously. “Are you sure? That’s going to take forever to search. We should have brought help, although I have no idea how I would have explained calling them in without finding the body first.”
Bay pointed to a glint on the ground, and when I focused, I realized what she pointed at. It was a skeletal hand – the rest of the body hidden by a big bush – a wedding ring still on the third finger. We’d officially found Peg Mulder.
I leaned over and gave Bay a quick kiss on the cheek, not because she needed it but because I wanted to give it to her. We still had a long couple of hours ahead of us. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. “I’ll call Chief Terry. He should be able to get a retrieval team out here. We’ll make sure she’s put to rest.”
“Thank you.”
“No, sweetie,” I said, giving her another soft kiss. “Thank you.”
“WELL, this wasn’t how I saw our weekend going,” I said, digging into the thick steak on my plate with gusto. “This is a great way to end it, though. I love steak. I didn’t even know you guys grilled.”
“I grilled the steaks,” Aunt Tillie said from her spot at the head of the table.
“They’re still good,” I said.
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
She makes me tired. “Eat your dinner.”
After hours in the woods, Peg Mulder’s remains were lifted from her makeshift resting place and Chief Terry promised he would make sure she found a final resting place. Since only bones were left, determining a cause of death would be difficult. I told Chief Terry what Peg relayed to Bay, and he said there wouldn’t be enough evidence to go after John Mulder anyway. The man was probably living in a hell of his own torment. He didn’t need any more. It wasn’t the end I envisioned, but in a way it was better. Knowing Peg Mulder hadn’t met a final betrayal at her husband’s hands was something. I just didn’t know what.
Bay offered to take Peg to her son so she could see him, but Peg only laughed. She told Bay she saw her son as often as she wanted, and even the cursory questions Bay asked about the other side went unanswered. Before her body was removed from the ravine, Peg’s ghost dissipated – leaving Bay with only a warning about pulling people from places they didn’t want to leave. Bay was chagrined, but relieved Peg was back where she belonged.
Because it was late Sunday, The Overlook’s weekend guests were gone. It was only family – and that included Marcus, Sam and myself – at the dinner table. Chief Terry begged off, but only because he had to deal with Peg’s remains. He was family, too. The Winchesters had a way of enlarging their family through loyalty and love – and that was only one of the reasons I loved spending weekends here.
“What time are you guys leaving tomorrow?” Winnie asked.
“Early,” I said. “I want to make sure Bay is settled in the apartment before I go to work.”
“And
you’ll call, right?” Winnie pressed, glancing at Bay. “You’ll call if you get lonely.”
“I won’t get lonely, Mom,” Bay said, laughing. “I can’t get lonely.”
“You’ll be on your own all day,” Winnie said. “Landon will be at work. You’ll have your own work to do, but you’ll still be alone. You’re used to having lunch with Thistle and Clove every day.”
“We’re going to Skype,” Thistle said.
“I don’t know what that means,” Winnie said, pursing her lips. “That’s not something … dirty … is it?”
Thistle snorted. “It’s a computer program. We’re going to eat in front of our laptops and talk every day.”
I didn’t know why, but the knowledge Bay would still be eating lunch with Clove and Thistle made me happy. “That sounds fun.”
“She’s also going to take photos of everything in your underwear drawer and show them to us,” Thistle said.
That sounded less fun. “I can’t tell you how much I’m going to miss you, Thistle,” I said.
“Oh, I’m going to Skype with you, too,” Thistle said. “I can’t go five days without a Landon fix. That’s unthinkable.”
Worry about Bay turning into Aunt Tillie eased as I gazed at Thistle. If any of them were going to turn into their curmudgeonly great-aunt, it would be the fiery pink-haired menace across the table. “I can’t wait.”
Winnie was the only one still fighting the inevitable, and as she focused on her daughter I felt a strange tug in my chest.
“What did you mean when you said you couldn’t be lonely, Bay?” Winnie asked.
Bay smiled. “You’re not only here in this house,” she said. “You’re here.” She tapped her chest. “How could I possibly ever be lonely when you’re always with me?”
Okay, she really is charming. “Someone pass me the wine,” I said.
“Not too much,” Bay warned. “We have to be up early.”
“Just one glass,” I said. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a … peaceful night.”
Bay’s smile reinforced that feeling. I sipped the wine, internally toasting yet another level of Winchester delight.
It was going to be a good week.
It was going to be a good life.
“I’m going to start up my gun class again tomorrow,” Aunt Tillie announced, ruining my good mood.
I growled, frustrated. “You’re going to be the death of me,” I said. “I just know it.”
Author’s Note
I want to thank everyone who takes the time to read my novels. I have a particular brand of humor that isn’t for everyone – and I know that.
If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. There’s a lot of snark and sarcasm in my world – and I know some people don’t like that.
Special thanks go out to Heidi Bitsoli and Phil VanHulle for correcting the (numerous) errors that creep into a work of fiction.
If you’re interested in my future works, follow me on Facebook, Twitter or join my mailing list. I do not believe in spam. I only announce new releases or free promotions.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Books by Amanda M. Lee
Avery Shaw Mysteries
Who, What, Where, When, Die
If it Bleeds, it Leads
Buried Leads
Shot off the Presses
The Preditorial Page
Misquoted & Demoted
Headlines & Deadlines (August 2015)
Covenant College Mysteries
Awakening (Book One)
Whispering (Book Two)
Conjuring (Book Three)
Waxing & Waning (Book Four)
Graduating (Book Five)
The Living Covenant Trilogy
Rising Covenant (June 2016)
Dark Covenant (July 2016)
Eternal Covenant (August 2016)
The Dying Covenant Trilogy
Haunted Covenant (June 2017)
Desperate Covenant (July 2017)
Everlasting Covenant (August 2017)
Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mysteries
Any Witch Way You Can
Every Witch Way But Wicked
Witching You Were Here
Witching on a Star
Something to Witch About
Careful What You Witch For (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short)
Wicked Brew (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short)
Witch Me Luck
Witchy Tales (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fairy Tale)
On a Witch and a Prayer A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short
You Only Witch Once (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short) September 2015
Life’s a Witch (November 2015)
The Christmas Witch (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short) December 2015
Aisling Grimlock
Grim Tidings (Book One)
Grim Offerings (Book Two)
Grim Discovery (October 2015)