A Witch Before Dying (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 11)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “That sounds kinky.”

  “That’s how I roll.” Landon moved away from me and focused on the folders he’d caught me going through. “Anything?”

  This could be a trap. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t be a pain,” Landon chided. “We’re already in here. We might as well look around.”

  I was flabbergasted. “Are you suggesting that we break into Scarlet’s shop?”

  “Absolutely not. You already broke into her shop. I happened to catch you. If Terry catches us, I’m totally blaming you. In fact, if anyone catches us I’m totally blaming you.”

  That sounded more than fair to me. “Deal.” I used my hip to edge him away from the counter. “I’m looking through the files. See if you can get that safe open over there.”

  “What safe?” Landon grabbed my flashlight and tilted it in the direction of the wall. “Huh. You’re right. She has a safe.”

  “It’s one of those older ones,” I pointed out. “You can usually get inside if you just listen while turning the dial.”

  “You know a lot about breaking into old safes,” Landon noted.

  “Aunt Tillie taught us when we were kids,” I explained. “She was making plans to start her own female gang at the time and thought that turning us into bank robbers was the way to go.”

  Landon chuckled. “She sounds like the worst babysitter ever. I’ll bet you had fun hanging out with her, though.” Landon pressed his ear to the safe as he turned the dial, seemingly intent on what he was doing.

  “You look like you already know how to break into a safe,” I pointed out.

  “I watched western movies, too. Now … shh.” Landon closed his eyes and listened as he turned the dial. His hair was messy from sleep – he hadn’t bothered to brush it – and he looked ridiculously handsome. It wasn’t the time to consider it, but the massage and the bacon grease didn’t sound half bad.

  It took everything I had, but I shook myself out of my reverie and returned to the folders. Unfortunately, they didn’t offer much. Everything had to do with the purchase of the store and order forms for items not yet delivered. I couldn’t find anything that pointed to the truth about Scarlet’s past.

  “Ha!” Landon reveled in his victory, doing a little dance as the safe door swung open. “You may bow to my superior safecracking skills, my dear.”

  “I might do that later,” I said, shuffling to his side. The safe was nearly empty, except for a lone journal sitting on the middle shelf. “What’s this?”

  “Bay, wait.”

  It was too late. I had my hands on the journal before Landon could stop me. I flipped it open, narrowing my eyes when I realized the writing was in another language, perhaps even some sort of code.

  “Huh.”

  “What is that?” Landon abandoned his earlier qualms about reading the journal and scanned the writing over my shoulder. “Is that the Theban alphabet you mentioned?”

  “Maybe.” I honestly wasn’t sure. “I can’t see it that well. If it is Theban, I think she modified it somehow. Aunt Tillie might know.”

  “Aunt Tillie is probably home in bed,” Landon pointed out. “There’s no way we can get her back here before people start showing up for work in the bakeries.”

  “We don’t have to bring her here. We can take the journal to her.” I moved to shove the notebook under my arm, but Landon snatched it back and scowled.

  “You can’t steal it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m an FBI agent, and that’s against the law.”

  “It’s also against the law to break into a store in the middle of the night,” I said.

  “Yes, but I didn’t do that,” Landon argued. “I happened to stumble across you breaking the law. There’s a difference.”

  “How? We’re still in here.”

  “Yes, but I have plausible deniability if I need it. What? It works for me.”

  “You’re an odd man.”

  “You love me anyway.” Landon licked his lips as he stared at the journal. “Do you have your phone?”

  I bobbed my head. “Yes.”

  “Take photos of the pages.” Landon rested the journal on top of the safe and took the flashlight from me, aiming it at the pages. “Be quick. We need to get out of here soon.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re helping me break the law,” I said, steadily snapping photos as Landon flipped pages and held the light. “This is the coolest thing we’ve ever done together.”

  “You’re only saying that because I haven’t gotten out the bacon grease yet.”

  I snickered … and then sobered. “I’m sorry about the lullaby. I didn’t want her to do it. I felt guilty, but ... well … I had to look.”

  “I know that, Bay.” Landon turned somber. “I don’t know what I would’ve done in your position. I believe in following my gut. I also believe in following your gut. Your gut is telling you that there’s something wrong with Scarlet Darksbane.

  “I don’t like it when you lie and cover your tracks, but in this case I don’t know if I should be angry or relieved that I can pretend it was nothing more than a bad dream when we get home,” he continued. “I need to give it some thought.”

  “So … you’re not going to yell?” His reaction was almost too good to be true.

  “I guess we’ll see when we’re safely away,” Landon said, turning to the last page of writing. “Got it?” I nodded and watched as Landon returned the journal to the safe and shut the door, twirling the dial before locking gazes with me. “It’s time to go. In fact … .” Landon broke off when a set of headlights flashed against the front window. A car pulled into one of the spots on Main Street. Landon reacted quickly, grabbing me around the waist and dragging me toward the back door.

  “Who … ?”

  “Shh.” Landon was quick, jerking me through the opening and shutting the door without making a sound. Before he could drag me down the alley I pointed toward the still-open window.

  Landon nodded in understanding, pushing the pane shut at the same moment the interior store lights flashed on. He grabbed me, pressing me to him as he hunkered below the window. We were tight against the wall in case someone looked out. Whoever it was would have to open the door to see us.

  “Scarlet?” I mouthed, uncertain.

  Landon shrugged. “I don’t know.” He clutched me tightly as we waited to see if someone would come to the door. Explaining what we were doing would be nearly impossible.

  I bit the inside of my cheek when I felt Landon’s hands wandering. “Really?”

  Landon grinned. “If we’re going to get caught, we might as well be doing something fun when it happens.”

  “Or we could just leave,” I whispered. “We have a chance to get away.”

  “Okay, but I’m still going to need you to fight the law when we get home. I’ve had certain … ideas … for the past hour and I can’t shake them.”

  “Fine.” I blew out a sigh. “You’re extremely weird.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Fourteen

  Landon was in a good mood the next morning. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. He’d yet to melt down over the break-in and he kept humming bars from his lullaby as we got ready to walk to the inn for breakfast.

  “If you’re going to yell … .” I started as we hit the pathway that led to The Overlook.

  “Why would I yell?” Landon cast me a sidelong look.

  “I broke the law.”

  Landon beamed. “And you’ve been properly punished.”

  “If that’s your version of punishment, sign me up.”

  Landon snorted as he grabbed my hand. “I hope they have pancakes this morning. I’m in the mood for a huge stack of them.”

  “I want eggs and hash browns.”

  “Maybe we’ll both get lucky.”

  I shrugged. “I think we already did.”

  “Ha. You’re funny this morning.” Landon had an added spring in his step. “Have
you given any thought to what I said about moving into the big office? I can help you move furniture and stuff.”

  “Don’t you think I should wait until Brian is officially out?”

  “I don’t really care either way what Brian does,” Landon replied. “He’s already gone as far as I’m concerned. We can start moving your stuff today if you want.”

  The idea was both exciting and daunting. “I think we should wait until Brian is gone. It seems somehow rude to do it while he’s still there.”

  “Okay, but have you even seen Brian in the last week?”

  That was a fair question. “No, but I’ve been doing most of my work from home,” I admitted. “I don’t want to see him. He’s been surly since the agreement. He acts like I’ve stolen something from him.”

  Landon’s eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite identify. “You already did all of the work at that place. He spent all his time coming up with ideas to do less work himself while heaping it on your shoulders. You didn’t steal anything from him. You earned that newspaper.”

  “I know that. I’m not sure he does, though.”

  “Do you want me to talk to him? Quite frankly, I’ve been looking for an excuse to have another conversation with that rodent before he leaves town.”

  If I thought I disliked Brian Kelly – which I did – Landon outright loathed him. I’d never fully ascertained why, but I think it had everything to do with me and the perceived value of my work. “You’re good for my ego. You know that, don’t you?”

  Landon’s smile returned. “You work hard, Bay. You deserve to get the accolades for a change. You’ve been telling me about your ideas for The Whistler since I met you. Now you get to do what you want.”

  “I might fail.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Probably not,” I conceded. “The newspaper has a solid advertising base and there’s not so much work that I can’t keep up with it. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little worried that things might completely fall apart the moment I walk in and take over.”

  “I think that’s normal to worry about.” Landon squeezed my hand. “You’ll be fine. In fact, you’ll be better than fine. I have faith.”

  “I think that’s because you’re sweet on me.”

  “I’m definitely sweet on you,” Landon confirmed, pausing by the back door. “I also know you’re good at what you do and everything will be fine. Don’t make yourself sick over this. You’ll do a great job.”

  “And you’re not angry about last night?” I couldn’t quite let it go.

  “I’m not happy about last night, but it’s done with,” Landon replied. “If you ever let Aunt Tillie plant a lullaby in my head again we’re going to have problems. As for the other stuff, … I’m pretending it was a dream and nothing more.”

  “That sounds a bit passive. You’re not known for being passive.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I guess.” I stepped through the door before him, waiting until he was inside to speak again. “So … you’re really not angry?”

  “Not yet,” Landon answered. “If you keep pushing me I might get there.”

  “Then I guess I’ll let it go.”

  “Good plan.”

  The main living quarters were empty, so Landon and I headed straight for the kitchen. Only Twila remained, gathering a platter of bacon and sausage before shuffling toward the swinging door that led to the dining room.

  “You’re late,” she announced.

  “And you’re my new favorite person in the world,” Landon said, grabbing a slice of bacon and grinning. “I’ve often wondered if this is what Heaven looks like.”

  “You’re nothing if not predictable,” Twila smiled, shaking her head. “You guys look well rested. I’m a little surprised given your late-night excursion.”

  Uh-oh. “What have you heard?”

  “Aunt Tillie has been telling the thrilling tale of her victory over ‘The Man’ for the past twenty minutes,” Twila replied.

  Aunt Tillie was the first person I saw when I walked into the dining room. She sat in her regular seat, at the head of the table, and regaled the breakfast guests – who were thankfully made up of only our family and friends – with the terrifying tale of our evening.

  “And then he said he wasn’t going to bother arresting me because he knew I would transform into a horrifying vision of his doom,” Aunt Tillie explained. “I swear, he looked as if he was going to cry.”

  Landon crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded Aunt Tillie. She barely spared him a glance before continuing.

  “Then Clove started crying and begging Landon not to take her to jail, but I told her everything was going to be okay,” Aunt Tillie continued.

  Clove balked. “I did not start crying. You’re making that up.” She turned to Sam, her face red. “I didn’t start crying.”

  “It’s okay, honey.” Sam patted her hand. “I know you were brave.”

  “I was totally brave,” Clove confirmed.

  “She was a kvetch, like she usually is,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “I was the one who saved the day. Bay kept whining about feeling guilty because she left Landon behind – that’s an unattractive quality, by the way – and Thistle turned into a total drunk, so I have no idea what she was doing.”

  Thistle sat at the far end of the table, her head in her hands. “I have no idea what you had in that flask, old lady, but it was a lot more than liquid courage. I had like four sips and I have the worst hangover I’ve ever had.”

  “That’s because you’re a lush,” Aunt Tillie fired back. “If you’re a lush, of course you’re going to have a hangover. Now, where was I?”

  “I believe you were about to tell the part of the story where you terrorized me into not arresting you,” Landon supplied, moving around the table and taking his regular spot next to Aunt Tillie. “That’s not exactly how I remember things, so I’m dying to hear your take on it.”

  Aunt Tillie’s expression was hard to read. She clearly thought she was going to get away with her story. Maybe she figured Landon and I were still arguing and we wouldn’t show up for breakfast. Of course, she’s Aunt Tillie. She doesn’t care about being caught in a lie. That happens daily at The Overlook.

  “So how was the rest of your night?” Aunt Tillie turned her full attention to me. “Your boyfriend must have been a bear after my thrilling and complete victory. Did he take out his anger on you? Did he threaten to lock you in a room and never let you out?”

  I exchanged a brief look with Landon before sitting. “No.”

  “What did you do?” Mom asked Landon, legitimately curious. “You two don’t look like you’re fighting.”

  “We’re not fighting,” Landon said, grabbing the pancake platter. “We had a nice night.”

  That was one way of looking at it.

  “You had a nice night even though you caught Bay, Clove, Thistle and Aunt Tillie breaking and entering?” Mom was understandably dubious. “Did someone slip you a lobotomy when no one was looking?”

  I tried to hold back a giggle … and failed.

  Landon patted my knee under the table. “I don’t believe you can slip someone a lobotomy, but I get what you’re saying. As for the rest … I’m not angry.”

  “I think someone switched out our Landon with one from another dimension,” Clove said. “They look exactly the same but they act completely different.”

  “Eat your breakfast, Clove,” Landon ordered, keeping his focus on Aunt Tillie. “I believe you were telling a story about how you terrorized me into letting you go. Please continue.”

  “Oh, well, I’m old,” Aunt Tillie hedged. “I forget what I’m saying half the time. It comes with the territory. Can someone please pass me the syrup?”

  “That’s what I thought,” Landon muttered.

  I pursed my lips to keep from laughing as I looked Thistle up and down. She looked worse than the night we stole three bottles of Aunt Tillie’
s wine as teenagers. We’d had no idea what kind of kick the wine had and passed out on the bluff behind the house. Twila thought we were dead when she happened upon us. Once Aunt Tillie found out, we wished we were dead.

  The hangover lasted three days. No joke.

  “How are you feeling, Thistle?”

  “Shut up, Bay,” Thistle growled.

  “I was merely asking after my sick cousin,” I teased. “I’ll try to refrain from doing that from here on out.”

  “That would be great.”

  Landon snickered as he added sausage and bacon to his plate. “What does everyone have planned for the day?”

  It was a simple question, but I knew it was pointed at me. Maybe Aunt Tillie, too.

  “I’m going to plan for another night of law enforcement games,” I said, grabbing a sausage link from his plate.

  Landon leaned forward and bit one end of the link before I could draw it away. “Keep saying stuff like that and you’ll never get in trouble again.”

  He was in far too good of a mood. I couldn’t help but wonder if Aunt Tillie had cast a second spell without telling me. I was about to ask when the sound of someone clearing his throat drew my attention to the doorway behind me.

  “Chief Terry! Come in.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “You’re not interrupting,” Mom said, hopping to her feet. “Sit down next to Bay. I’ll grab an extra plate.”

  “And then I’ll fill the plate with food,” Twila offered, winking.

  My mother and aunts were embroiled in a never-ending attempt to turn Chief Terry’s head. It was all about the competition. If one of them actually won – which Chief Terry didn’t seem keen to let happen – I was convinced they wouldn’t know what to do once he was caught.

  “How was your night?” I asked, smiling as Mom patted Chief Terry’s shoulder after delivering his plate. The triumphant look she shot Marnie was straight out of a Desperate Housewives rerun. “Stop crowding him, Mom. He’s trying to eat.”

  Mom shot me a dark look. “Do you want me to start singing about fighting the law? I hear that gets Landon going and it might make for an uncomfortable breakfast, but if it shuts you up … .”