“To what end?” an anguished Arthur begged. “My wife is dead. What are you doing to find her killer?”
“We’re working on it,” Landon replied, his hand absently moving to the back of my neck as he watched Scarlet shift on her chair with fresh interest. “We’re getting new information every day. It’s only a matter of time before we solve it.”
“And then the murderer is going down,” Thistle added, glaring at Scarlet. “That person should be very afraid.”
“Definitely,” Aunt Tillie agreed, white sauce congealing at the corners of her mouth. “This is good. Is there any wine?”
“Landon drank it all,” Dad replied.
“That’s okay.” Aunt Tillie dug in her pocket and returned with her flask. “Anyone want a belt?”
“Absolutely not,” I answered instantly.
“I might have one,” Thistle said, smirking when I shot her a look. “What? We have hours of this left. I’m going to need something to relax me.”
She had a point. “Yeah. I need a shot of that, too.”
Landon’s smile was full of mayhem. “Just one big drunk family, huh?”
Hey, there are worse things to be.
Twenty-Two
After dinner, Dad hid the leftover wine – and gave Aunt Tillie the evil eye when she pulled out her seemingly bottomless flask – before plying us with multiple mugs of coffee. Scarlet made her escape before dessert, but not before scalding me with a dark look that promised retribution, and we were completely sober before we left.
Landon was quiet for the ride home, his mind clearly busy. I waited until we pulled into the driveway to question him.
“What do you think?”
Landon slid his gaze to me. “I think you’re pretty.”
I made a face. “Not that.”
Landon grinned. “I don’t know what to think right now. What do you think?”
“I think that someone wanted to make it seem as if Adele Twigg was murdered by locals rather than members of her own troupe,” I replied, leaning back in my seat. Landon showed no signs of killing the engine. “I think that this town’s history makes the people an easy target for some things.”
“I think you’re right.”
“You do?”
Landon nodded. “Someone grabbed a book and used it to find symbols they didn’t understand. I think picking the letters for ‘witch’ was a bit much, but it’s not as if the murderer had a lot of time.
“Taken by themselves, the symbols can look creepy for those who don’t understand,” he continued. “I admit that was my initial reaction. Luckily, I happen to have a very smart witch friend who explains things to me.”
I smirked. “Is that what I am? Your witch friend?”
“You’re my very special witch friend,” Landon conceded. “My favorite witch in all the land, in fact.”
“That was smooth.”
“I do my best.” Landon fell quiet as he grabbed my hand and flipped it over, tracing his fingers over my palm as he considered how best to proceed. He seemed caught, as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I decided to help him along.
“If you want to say something about the way we acted with Scarlet ... well … I’m expecting it.”
“I do, but I’m not sure how to phrase it without sounding like a shmuck.”
“I’ve seen you act like a schmuck before. Lay it on me.”
Landon smiled. “I’m sorry.”
I stilled, surprised. “For what? You didn’t create a very uncomfortable dinner environment. That’s all on me.”
“Technically that’s on you, Thistle, Clove and Aunt Tillie,” Landon corrected. “I’m not angry about that. I understand why you did it. I also understand that I was perhaps blind to the other things that were going on.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact that Scarlet acted differently around Terry and me. I know you might think it’s simple of me, but I guess I wanted to believe her … so I did.”
“I don’t think it’s simple of you. I think it’s simply who you are.”
“And who is that?”
“Someone who wants to help.”
“Yeah? I guess. I don’t want to be naïve, though.”
It was a simple statement, but it touched me. “You know, when I first met you I thought you were a jerk.”
Landon snorted. “You were supposed to think I was a jerk. I was undercover with bad guys. I certainly didn’t want you to like me and put yourself in danger.”
“I get that. The thing is, even though you wanted to act all tough and dark, I could tell you had a good heart. Sure, I thought it was weird that you followed me into a corn maze in the middle of the night, and I thought there was a very real chance you were a pervert – which turned out to be true – but I recognized you for what you were right away.”
“And what am I?”
“You’re a good man who wants to believe the best of people.”
“Ah, you make me feel all mushy when you say things like that.” Landon gripped my hand. “People are sick of how mushy we are.”
“They’ll live.”
“They will indeed.” Landon ran his tongue over his lips. “I’m still sorry, Bay. I thought you were being unreasonable. I didn’t see what she was doing. I should have. I was a little suspicious when she showed up out of nowhere at the police station today, but I pushed it out of my head. That was a mistake.”
“I don’t know. She’s up to something, but I doubt very much she’s responsible for a murder.”
“I think you’re probably right,” Landon said. “She learned a hard lesson tonight when she took on four Winchesters … and lost.”
“She’s not done yet,” I said. “She’s nowhere near done. Mrs. Little brought her to town to mess with us. She’s not done messing with us. She might’ve thought it would be easy, but now she realizes that it’ll take more effort. I think she’s going to put in the effort.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Take her down before she gets a chance.”
Landon’s lips curved. “Well, I look forward to watching you do it.”
I slid him a sidelong look. “That’s it? I thought for sure you’d warn me about going to war when you’re investigating a murder.”
“I considered it,” Landon admitted. “The thing is, I’d much rather you go to war with a fake witch I know you can beat than a killer who might try to take you out if you get too close. Usually you’re in the middle of these things. Focusing on Scarlet means you’re not quite as interested in the murder.”
I balked. “That’s not true. I want to solve the murder.”
“I know you do, but it’s not your job,” Landon said. “I’m fine with you focusing on Scarlet. I know things can spiral out of control when you girls get going – especially since Aunt Tillie seems so keen to be involved in the process – but I’m not worried about Scarlet killing you. She’s an enemy, but I know you can take her.
“The person who killed Adele Twigg clearly has a lot of rage fueling him or her,” he continued. “I never want you in danger. So, if you’re focused on Scarlet and general mischief, that means you’re probably safe. I like it when you’re safe, Bay.”
“That doesn’t happen often, does it?”
“No, but that’s why I’m fine with you focusing on Scarlet. She makes a nice foil when a terrible enemy is running around this town.”
“Oh, that was almost poetic,” I teased. “You should be a writer.”
“I’ll stick to being an FBI agent.” Landon leaned closer and gave me a kiss. “Now, do you want me to rub your feet or something else when we get inside?”
I laughed at his lame joke and hopped out of the vehicle. “Maybe you should do both,” I suggested. “In fact … .” I lost my train of thought when an ethereal figure popped into view on the front walkway.
“What is it?” Landon asked, looking through Adele Twigg’s ghost without seeing her. “
Is something wrong?”
“We need to talk,” Adele said, her expression grim.
“You know how you wanted me out of this case and focused on Scarlet?” I asked ruefully.
Landon nodded.
“I don’t think you’re going to get your wish.”
Landon followed my gaze. “What do you see?” He instinctively put out his hand, as if to keep me back or protect me from something or someone that might come barreling out of the darkness.
“It’s Adele Twigg.”
“Oh.” Landon slowly lowered his hand, uncertain. “She can’t hurt you, right?”
“She’s not a poltergeist.” He’d learned a lot since we started dating, even witnessing a truly terrifying spirit that was out for blood. He knew he couldn’t protect me from everything, but that didn’t stop him from trying.
“It’s okay.” I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and forced him to lower his arm. “I’m perfectly okay.”
“Right.” Landon straightened. “Try to get her to come inside so you don’t catch a cold while talking to her.” He moved toward the front door. “I’ll make some hot chocolate.”
“We’ll be right along,” I promised.
“Okay. You have five minutes before I go all alpha and come looking for you.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
TALKING ADELE INTO ENTERING the guesthouse wasn’t easy. She went on and on about how people in town said we were real witches and she didn’t want to get hexed. I finally had to remind her that she was already dead, so there was no way I could kill her a second time.
She wasn’t happy, but she capitulated.
Landon had a mug of hot chocolate ready for me when I entered, and he lifted the blanket he sat under on the couch so I could get comfortable. He offered up an easy smile, but let me handle most of the questioning.
“I take it you’ve come to the realization that you’re dead, huh?”
Adele’s expression was sour. “No one likes a know-it-all.”
“I have it on good authority that Landon loves it when I think I know it all,” I countered.
“He looks like a deviant,” Adele stared at Landon. “He’s probably a sex fiend.”
“He’s an FBI agent.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s not a sex fiend.”
She had a point. “Well … he’s not a sex fiend.”
Landon snorted. “Don’t lie to her. I’m totally a sex fiend, Mrs. Twigg. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to solve your murder.”
Adele widened her eyes. “Can he see me?”
I shook my head. “No. He doesn’t have the gift. I’ll repeat what you tell me. Have you remembered anything about the night you died?”
“No. It’s all a blur.” Adele went back to scowling. “I remember being at the meeting. I remember you were there. You sat with a big man and whispered constantly. It was rude.”
I did my best to rein in my temper. “I’m sorry you thought I was rude. As for the man I was sitting with, that’s Terry Davenport. He’s the chief of police.”
“I thought he was your boyfriend until I saw this one.” Adele pointed a derisive finger at Landon. “This one seems to fit your personality more.”
I had no idea if that was a compliment or dig, so I let it go. “What happened after the meeting? Did you leave with someone?”
“I … .” Adele’s features twisted as she tried to remember. “I don’t know. Everything goes dark. I remember the meeting breaking up. I remember Margaret suggesting we get coffee together. That’s all I remember.”
I stilled. “Margaret? You mean Mrs. Little?”
Adele nodded.
“You were supposed to get coffee with her?” I cast a look to Landon. “Did you talk to Mrs. Little?”
“I try to refrain from talking to that woman as much as possible, but I’ll make a note of it for tomorrow,” Landon replied. “Did they actually have coffee?”
I shrugged. “She can’t remember.”
“Okay. I’ll ask about it tomorrow.”
I sipped my hot chocolate before turning back to Adele. “We know about the scam you guys had going. We know those aren’t your kids – and nieces and nephews – and whatever else you claimed they were.”
“It’s not a scam,” Adele corrected. “It’s an act.”
“Yes, well, it bordered on a scam in some respects,” I argued. “You wanted people to believe you were one big family – I guess happiness fit in there even though your actors were miserable – and it was important for you to keep up appearances.”
“That’s because people associate renaissance fairs with family fun,” Adele’s tone was dark. “We weren’t trying to scam people. We were simply trying to deliver what they wanted.”
“Fair enough.” There was no sense arguing with her. It would get me nowhere. “You have a lot of enemies. We’ve seen the comments online. We know about the people you fired.”
“Those people were not holding up their end of the bargain,” Adele snapped. “The contract terms were fair and non-negotiable. They knew what they were getting into when they joined up.”
“And the woman you fired for getting pregnant?”
“We want a wholesome environment.”
“The guy I read about who was fired for hitting on a woman in the crowd?”
“That’s not allowed.”
“The guy fired for dating one of his fake sisters?”
“Fornication is not allowed.”
She was a real piece of work. “What about the people with your troupe right now?” I asked, changing course. “You’ve made a lot of enemies in the past. It’s only fair to assume that you have a fair number now. How many members of the current troupe hate you?”
“I think you’re overusing the word ‘hate,’” she replied. “My workers didn’t hate me. They respected me. They loved me. There might’ve been a bit of fear in there, but it wasn’t something I reveled in. It was, however, necessary.”
Yeah. A huge piece of work. “People hated you, Adele,” I countered. I couldn’t sugarcoat it for her. If she expected to remember, she couldn’t delude herself. “Most of the people in your troupe who we’ve questioned since your death haven’t exactly expressed regret about the way you went.”
“They’re merely putting on an act,” Adele sniffed. “They’re professionals, after all. They can’t fall apart – even though I’m sure they want to.”
Yeah, she was clearly delusional. “You haven’t really answered the question,” I prodded. “Did you have specific problems with anyone in your group?”
“I was the boss. I had problems with all of them at one time or another. We were a family, though. It’s normal to fight with family. You always make up later.”
“Not always,” I argued. “Someone remained angry enough to kill you.”
“Well, it wasn’t a member of my group.” Adele was adamant. “It was someone from this town. This … stupid, stupid town!”
“You were strangled, Adele. That’s usually reserved for someone who wants to kill up close and personal. Most strangers don’t want to do that unless you’re dealing with a serial killer, which I doubt you were because you’re the lone victim.”
“It wasn’t one of my troupe members.”
“Fine.” I held up my hands. “Just for curiosity’s sake, though, if it was someone from your troupe, who would you blame?”
“I just told you … .”
“I know. It’s a hypothetical question.”
“Fine.” Adele mimed dragging a hand through her hair, her frustration palpable. “It could’ve been any one of the girls. They all had issues with me because I wouldn’t let them wear skimpy corsets and threatened to fire them if they hooked up with any of the men.”
“Did you threaten the men for the same reasons?”
“No. The women are the ones who tempted the men. The men didn’t do anything. They can’t control their hormones.”
“That is an antiquated thought process,
” I said. “Still, you’re basically saying the women hated you more than the men.”
“Pretty much,” Adele conceded.
“Ask her about her husband,” Landon interjected. He’d been listening to my end of the conversation with keen interest.
“What about Arthur?” Adele asked, making a face. “He didn’t do this.”
“How can you be sure of that?” I countered. “You don’t remember what happened. Were you and Arthur happily married?”
Adele barked out a harsh laugh, taking me by surprise. “Arthur and I married for convenience … and a few tax breaks. I wouldn’t use the word ‘love’ where our relationship is concerned.”
I tried to reconcile Adele’s dark words with the man I saw at dinner. He spoke only a few times – granted, he didn’t have many openings because we monopolized the entire conversation – but I assumed he was lost in grief, and at least two bottles of wine I watched him down.
“You and Arthur didn’t have a good relationship?” I asked after a brief pause.
“We had no relationship other than business,” Adele replied. “We ran the business together and otherwise went our separate ways. He has a girlfriend, for crying out loud.”
“A girlfriend?”
Landon leaned forward, intrigued. “Did she just say Arthur had a girlfriend?”
I nodded.
“Who?”
“Who is Arthur’s girlfriend?” I asked, almost dreading the answer.
“That little harlot Tess Anderson,” Adele replied, not missing a beat. “They’ve been sleeping together for almost a year, but she thought I didn’t know. Well, I knew. That’s why I never let her move up the food chain and take a lead role in the show.”
My stomach twisted at the look of outright hatred on Adele’s face even as doubt crept in. “Tess is in a relationship with Greg.”
“Greg?” Adele furrowed her brow. “That’s not right. She’s dating Arthur. She’s been trying to talk him into divorcing me and taking her on as a new partner.”
“How do you know that?”
“I eavesdrop whenever I get the chance,” Adele replied. “It’s not hard. We’re on top of one another all the time.”
A Witch Before Dying (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 11) Page 21
