Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Among other things.”

  I watched them go, annoyance bubbling up. When I turned to Landon, he seemed to be expecting it. “Do you think I have a martyr complex?”

  Landon didn’t hesitate when he answered. “Yes.”

  “But … no.”

  “Bay, you’re willing to sacrifice yourself to save everyone even when there’s no reason to make a sacrifice,” Landon said. “That’s a martyr complex. Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it. I have a hero complex, after all.”

  He didn’t seem bothered by Thistle’s words. I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. “I’m going to make her eat enough dirt to fill a sand pit before this is over.”

  “That sounds delightful,” Landon said. “You can do that later. Stop worrying about her, though, and focus on me. We’re having dinner and then going to bed early. We have a plan of our own. If the zombie apocalypse hits I plan to stay in bed eating bacon until they come for me.”

  I snorted, delighted by the visual. “I guess that’s one way to go.”

  “It is,” Landon confirmed. “We can practice tonight.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. “I’ll tell my martyr complex to meet your hero complex under the covers in two hours.”

  Landon grinned, the expression lighting up his already handsome face. “That sounds like a plan.”

  We lapsed into comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds coming from our mouths as we vigorously chewed the delightful food. Clove interrupted the quiet first.

  “I really don’t care about zombies,” she said. “I do care about your mother, Sam. We should go home so I can clean. I’ll be up all night at this rate.”

  “You’re done cleaning,” Sam said. “My mother is not a neat freak. She’s not going to care how much you cleaned. She will notice if you have bags under your eyes.”

  Clove was horrified at the prospect and her fingers flew to her cheeks. “Do I have bags under my eyes?”

  Sam realized his mistake when it was too late. “I … .”

  “Oh, no!” Clove hopped to her feet and scurried in the direction of the bathroom.

  Sam heaved out a sigh before following. I couldn’t hear what he said as he trudged after Clove, but I swear I heard “crazy,” “lucky I love her” and “I’m going to drink myself to sleep tonight” before he disappeared around a corner.

  I turned to Landon. “Would you want me on your team for the zombie apocalypse?”

  “You and only you,” Landon answered. “I already told you that we’re going to bed with bacon and waiting for them to come to us. I wasn’t exaggerating.”

  “We’ll die that way, though.”

  “Yes, but at least we’ll be together.” Landon thoughtfully chewed and swallowed before continuing. “We’ll probably need chocolate cake, too.”

  “Well, at least you’ve thought it out,” I teased. “I … .”

  I didn’t get a chance to continue because the unmistakable sound of someone screaming filled the air. Landon and I jumped to our feet in unison, turning in the direction of the display booths.

  I could see smoke rising from one of the back booths and found myself moving before uttering a word.

  “And here comes the drama,” Landon said. “You’re going to owe me twenty bucks before we go to bed tonight.”

  “I’ll bake you a cake instead.”

  “Even better.”

  TWELVE

  L andon has longer legs, so I struggled to keep up as he raced through the crowd. By the time we hit the end of the row of booths, the smoke was thick and I could make out flames as a black column snaked into the sky.

  “What happened?” Landon asked, pushing two small children back so they wouldn’t get too close to the flames.

  “I don’t know,” a woman replied – I think it was Jennifer Calendar. “It was quiet and the next thing we knew it was on fire.”

  “Okay,” Landon barked out. “Someone call the fire department.”

  “There’s a hose over here,” Marcus called out, grabbing the end of the hose and hurrying forward. “We can put it out ourselves.”

  Landon controlled the crowd while Marcus sprayed water. In an effort to help, Thistle and I took faux antique buckets from one of the rustic store booths and scooped water from the fountain. Despite our best efforts, it took ten minutes to put out the fire. The fire department didn’t show up until five minutes after that.

  My cheeks were black with soot and I couldn’t stop coughing when Landon moved to my side.

  “Are you okay?” He looked concerned.

  “I’m fine. I just inhaled too much smoke.”

  “Then come over here and rest a second,” Landon said, guiding me toward a bench and tugging Thistle to make sure she accompanied us. He made us both sit and studied our faces through glassy eyes as the fire department poked at embers and made sure the fire was really out. “Does it generally take that long for the fire department to get here?”

  I shrugged. “We don’t have many fires.” I broke off and coughed into my hand, causing Landon to rub my back as he wiped a smudge of soot from his cheek. “I guess I never really thought about it.”

  “Well, I’m going to talk to Chief Terry about that,” Landon said, glancing over his shoulder when he heard approaching footsteps. Marcus, his face grimy, hurried to Thistle when he saw us sitting. “She’s okay. They got too close to the fire with the buckets. I think they got the smoke worse than we did.”

  “You should’ve stayed back,” Marcus said. “You could’ve been hurt.”

  Thistle made an incredulous face. “It was a small booth, not a house,” she pointed out. “We weren’t inside. There was no danger of the roof falling. We’re fine.”

  “We’re totally fine,” I agreed. “This is why we’re going to survive the zombie apocalypse when others will fall behind and get eaten.”

  “I heard that,” Clove groused, moving closer to me. She looked mildly concerned, but also irritated. “I’ve decided I’ll sacrifice both of you in the zombie apocalypse, and laugh when you get eaten and I escape.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Thistle rolled her eyes. “We all know I’ll win the zombie apocalypse.”

  “I don’t think there’s such a thing as winning when you have an apocalypse,” Landon said, shaking his head. “This could be the dumbest conversation we’ve ever had.”

  “Oh, not even close,” I shot back. “Two weeks ago we spent an entire night arguing about the best James Bond. You said it was Sean Connery. Marcus maintains it was Pierce Brosnan.”

  “That wasn’t a dumb conversation,” Landon argued. “That was a lively debate.”

  “I don’t even like James Bond movies.”

  “Yes, well, I’m going to have to leave you behind in the zombie apocalypse because your taste in movies sucks,” Landon teased, giving me a quick kiss before straightening. “Where the heck is Chief Terry? I thought he would be here by now.”

  “There he is,” Clove said, pointing toward the corner of the destroyed booth. “He doesn’t look happy.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Landon said, moving to leave but then thinking better of it and swiveling. “Do you want to stay with me or go home with Thistle? I might be a little bit.”

  That was a tough choice. “I want to stay with you.”

  Landon smiled and extended his hand.

  “I also don’t want to give Thistle too much time alone in the guesthouse. I think she’s going to steal our extra room,” I added.

  Landon scowled as he stared at Thistle. “I thought you were going to move in with Marcus?”

  “I am,” Thistle replied. “I can’t do it until all of the construction is done, though, and that won’t happen for several months.”

  “So why can’t you wait and do your crafts room under Marcus’ roof when the construction is done?”

  “Because then I won’t have beaten Bay,” Thistle replied. “I want to win.”

  “I think that’s essentially the Winc
hester motto,” Landon said. “Frankly, I don’t care who wins right now. I want you to promise you’re not going to do anything to that guesthouse tonight, though. I don’t want Bay complaining the entire night.”

  Thistle chewed her lip and tilted her head to the side. “Okay,” she agreed. “I’m only doing it because I’m tired, though. Plus … I need a shower. I’m filthy and smell bad.”

  “We all smell bad,” Landon said. “Thank you, though.” He shook his hand again and I took it, relieved I wouldn’t have to make a tough choice when I really wanted to find out how the fire started.

  “Speaking of smelling bad, I have to get back to the lighthouse,” Clove announced. “Your mother is coming tomorrow, Sam, and I want our place to smell like fresh lemons.”

  Sam’s expression was hard to read. “What if I want it to smell like lavender?”

  “Get used to disappointment.”

  Sam heaved a sigh. “Lemons it is,” he said. “I guess we’re not going to have a relaxing night.”

  “We never were,” Clove said. “I was simply going to refuse to let you go to sleep until you did everything I wanted.”

  Sam smiled. “That sounds vaguely dirty.”

  “I wanted you to clean the toilet,” Clove said, not missing a beat.

  “That sounds vaguely depressing,” Sam complained, although he fell into step with her. “Can we at least kiss a few times or something?”

  Clove shot him a winning smile. “I’m going to let you see me naked.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “Yeah.” Clove bobbed her head. “Since we smell like a campfire we’ll have to strip outside before going inside to clean.”

  “That sounds really annoying,” Sam muttered. “You’re going to be the death of me. You know that, right?”

  “Stop being dramatic,” Clove chided. “When I think someone is being dramatic, you know there’s something wrong.”

  I pursed my lips to keep from laughing as Landon squeezed my hand. “Let’s talk to Chief Terry,” I suggested. “I want to know how this happened. It seems … odd.”

  “It definitely seems odd,” Landon agreed. “Come on. I’m still hopeful we can get our ice cream tonight … and I might even buy you some popcorn.”

  Well, there were worse ways to spend an evening.

  “DO YOU know what happened?”

  Chief Terry jerked his head in our direction and frowned when he saw how dirty I was. “What happened to you?” he asked, running his finger down my cheek. “How close were you to the fire?”

  “We weren’t close at all when it happened,” I replied. “We were eating dinner at the picnic tables. We heard someone scream and saw smoke, so we ran in this direction.”

  “We put out the fire ourselves,” Landon explained. “Marcus found a hose, and Bay and Thistle used buckets, although I’m not exactly happy with how close they got to the fire. It took us a little bit of effort, but we put it out.”

  “Where was the fire department?”

  “That’s exactly what I was going to ask you,” Landon said. “It took them fifteen minutes to get here. The entire town square could’ve caught fire if it had been windier.”

  “I suppose we should be thankful that it was just the one booth,” Chief Terry said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The department here is made up of volunteers. Sometimes it takes them a little while to group together.”

  Landon wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t sound very safe.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Chief Terry challenged, obviously taking Landon’s words as a personal affront. “The town is small and the tax base is limited. We’re not a big city. We can’t afford a full-time fire department.”

  “I’m sorry,” Landon said, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “I wasn’t attacking you. I was merely stating that it doesn’t sound safe.”

  “It’s not safe,” Chief Terry agreed, exhaling heavily. “I’ve been bothered by the fire department situation for a long time. I don’t know what to do about it, though.”

  “Well, we’re okay for now,” I pointed out. “We don’t have a lot of fires – which is good – and this should fill our quota for the month. There’s no reason to argue.” I didn’t like it when Chief Terry and Landon snapped at one another. Good-natured ribbing was one thing, anger was another. For some reason, I always sought Chief Terry’s approval, and I didn’t want him to dislike my boyfriend. Wow! That sounded a little pathetic, huh?

  “Calm down,” Landon said, rubbing the back of my neck. “We’re not arguing. We’re having a discussion.”

  “That’s what men do,” Chief Terry said, offering me a wink. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was in the middle of Marnie’s cream pie when I got the call about the fire. I didn’t get to finish.”

  My mouth dropped open at his words, and Landon snorted at the unintended double entendre.

  “Nice,” Landon said. “And here I thought you’d choose Winnie if it came down to it.”

  It took Chief Terry a moment to realize what Landon was saying. “Banana cream pie!” he barked. “I was eating Marnie’s pie, not her … oh, you’re such a pig.” He cuffed the back of Landon’s head and made a face. “Why does your mind always go to the gutter?”

  Landon shrugged, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. “I think it’s my super power. Hey, Bay, there you go. When the zombie apocalypse comes we will survive thanks to my dirty mind.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” I said, weariness momentarily overcoming me. “I think that’s better than the bacon-and-cake plan.”

  “Am I missing something?” Chief Terry asked, confused.

  “You probably don’t want to know,” I said.

  “You definitely don’t want to know,” Landon added. “What have you got on the fire so far?”

  “Just that it was Kelly Sheffield’s booth,” Chief Terry answered. “She wasn’t present when it started. She’d closed up to take a break. She was over by the pie tent – don’t say anything filthy – when it started. One of my officers is bringing her here now.”

  “It went up quick,” Landon said. “I have no idea what would cause it. Bay and I were in here earlier and all she had was love potions. I don’t think those are flammable.”

  “I should hope not,” Chief Terry said.

  I kept one ear on their conversation as I shuffled over to the burnt shell that used to be the shopping booth. Nothing survived the fire. There were potions strewn in every direction and broken glass littering the ground. Even though it was a mess, I knew the Hemlock Cove Festival Committee would have things looking like new by tomorrow morning. Because we are a town that relies upon tourism, the committee knows how to cover up a crisis.

  “Do we think it was an accident?” Landon asked, shifting his attention as a tall woman with dark hair cut through the crowd. It was Kelly Sheffield – I knew her from high school.

  “Of course it was an accident,” Kelly said, making a face as she looked Landon up and down. “Who are you?”

  “This is Landon Michaels,” Chief Terry replied. “He’s an FBI agent out of the Traverse City office.”

  Kelly’s eyebrows rose. “The FBI? Why would they be here for a booth fire? I’m going to need a copy of the report, by the way. I have to file a claim with my insurance company. I lost all of the potions.”

  “I understand,” Chief Terry said. “Agent Michaels was already in town. He just happened to be here.”

  “Why?” Kelly wasn’t overtly checking out Landon, yet I could tell she liked what she saw.

  “He was staying with me,” I said, dusting my hands off on my jeans as I rose from the wreckage.

  Kelly narrowed her eyes as we locked gazes. We might’ve gone to high school together, but that didn’t mean we were friends. In fact, we were sort of enemies. Lila Stevens was my biggest enemy, but Kelly was one of Lila’s best friends, and they made it their mission to shower misery on me all through middle and high school.

  �
��You’re with Bay?” Kelly made a derisive sound in the back of her throat. “How terrible for you.”

  Landon kept his face impassive, but I didn’t miss the annoyance lurking in the depths of his eyes. “Mrs. Sheffield, do you have any reason to believe anyone would target you to burn down your booth?”

  “Ms. Sheffield,” Kelly corrected, gracing him with a flirtatious smile. “I’m not married.”

  “I can see why,” Landon said dryly. “Do you have any reason to believe someone did this on purpose?”

  “Absolutely not,” Kelly said. “I’m sure it was some sort of accident. There was a lantern hanging between my booth and the one right next door. I’m sure it probably fell into my booth or something. I mean … why would someone burn down a booth? It makes no sense.”

  “Maybe it’s because you’re hawking rose water and oregano and calling it a love potion,” I suggested.

  “No one is talking to you, Bay,” Kelly snapped, narrowing her eyes.

  “Actually I would like to hear what she has to say,” Landon countered.

  “Me too,” Chief Terry chimed in. He looked irked with Kelly’s attitude. “She runs the newspaper, after all. She’s often one step ahead of us on investigations.”

  “Well, perhaps that’s because she’s a loser and has nothing else better to do,” Kelly said, tossing a challenging look in my direction. “As for my potions … well … they’re the real deal.”

  “They’re common household items,” I corrected. “They’re props, not the real deal. Has anyone approached you wanting a real love spell and expressed disappointment when it didn’t work?”

  Kelly narrowed her eyes to dangerous green slits. “My potions are real and they always work. Of course no one approached me over a faulty potion. It’s been a normal day.”

  Landon’s eyes were thoughtful when they locked with mine. I could tell he was curious about Kelly’s demeanor, but he wouldn’t question me until later. “Okay,” he said after a beat. “Thank you for your time. I’ll make sure you get a copy of the report so you can file it with your insurance company.”

  “You can drop it off yourself if you want,” Kelly offered, her expression triumphant when she met my irritated gaze.