I watched her flounce out of my bedroom, my heart constricting. “What was that supposed to mean?”
BY THE time I was done showering and drying my hair I’d managed to calm myself, but only marginally. Aunt Tillie had apparently shifted her attention from me to Thistle during my absence. She stood next to the counter drinking coffee and poking Thistle in the cheek when I emerged from the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I once heard that if you poke a bear enough times it will bite you,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I’m testing that theory.”
“I’m going to test my foot in your butt if you’re not careful, old lady,” Thistle threatened, jerking her cheek away. “Why are you even here? You don’t come down here unless you want something. Just for the record, whatever you want, I’m not giving it to you.”
“Someone didn’t get a good night’s sleep last night,” Aunt Tillie said. “That makes you crabby, Thistle. You should get on a schedule. Bay is crabby in the morning, but she makes you look like the devil to her angel.”
“Oh, that’s very sweet,” I said, shuffling toward the counter. “I’m confused about why you’re here, too. You said something about Annie.”
Despite how grumpy she is in the morning, Thistle lifted her head and stared at me. “What’s wrong with Annie?”
There are times I think Thistle is the meanest person in the world – like when she’s trying to steal the extra room for her pottery wheel. There are other times I know that’s all a cover because she’s actually a giving and caring person. Her concern for Annie always highlights that part of her personality.
“Annie has been seeing ghosts,” I answered, pouring myself a mug of coffee and offering Marcus a wan smile as he strode out of Thistle’s room. He’d obviously heard at least part of the conversation. “She’s terrified, and Belinda doesn’t believe she’s seeing anything, which only compounds the problem.”
“Annie is seeing ghosts?” Marcus’ lips twisted. “But … how can you be sure?”
“Because I saw them at least once, too,” I replied, opting for honesty. “The night the power went out, I saw several ghosts watching me in the library. They didn’t look normal – I think they might be bordering on that crossover threshold for poltergeists or something – and I kind of froze in place.
“That’s where Landon found me. I wasn’t sure what to tell him, but I’m almost positive the ghosts came from the Yeti Inferno,” I continued. “That has to explain what happened to me the other day.”
“I knew there was more than you let on,” Thistle barked, extending a finger as she glared at me. “I knew it!”
“Yes, you’re wise and lovely,” I deadpanned, rolling my eyes. “Is that really important now?”
“It’s important because Annie is being haunted,” Thistle snapped, catching me off guard with her vehemence. “Annie is a little girl. She doesn’t deserve this. If you’d told the truth that day … .”
“What?” Aunt Tillie challenged, narrowing her eyes. “How would Bay telling the truth about whatever happened – and we’ll get back to that in a second because I’m ticked off no one told me – manage to save Annie from what she’s going through? We still don’t know what we’re dealing with or why the spirits seem attracted to Annie.”
Thistle balked. “We could’ve exorcised them or something right away.”
Aunt Tillie snorted. “We’re witches, not priests. You need to watch fewer movies and focus on real world issues.”
That was rich coming from her, but because she was on my side I decided to let it slide. “Besides, I didn’t realize we were dealing with ghosts,” I pointed out. “I didn’t see ghosts on the tanker that day. I saw … something else.”
If Aunt Tillie was intrigued before, she was practically salivating now. “Okay, I have to know what you saw.”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” I admitted, running a hand through my freshly cleaned hair. “We were on the tanker and Thistle was talking about ideas for what we could get done before Halloween. I touched one of the metal walls and … it was as if I was transported somewhere else.”
“Where?” Aunt Tillie pressed. “I’ve always wanted to go to New Orleans and learn about voodoo. Did you go to New Orleans?”
I love the woman, but there are times I want to smack her. “No. I was transported in time or something. It was as if I was seeing someone’s nightmare, only I think it was a terrible memory because it probably really happened.
“I heard screaming … and there were a lot of men yelling … and then I saw a knife and blood,” I continued. “Landon and I did a little research on the tanker and we found out that it had a twenty-person crew go missing in 1989. That had to be what I saw.”
“What did Landon say when you told him about the vision?” Thistle asked.
I averted my eyes. “I kind of left that portion out,” I admitted. “I told him that I saw a captain’s hat on one of the ghosts – which is totally true – and that I had a feeling it had something to do with Sam’s tanker.”
“So you lied,” Thistle mused.
I balked. “I didn’t lie. I just … I don’t want him to worry. It’s not as if he can fix this problem, and his boss will never let him work from Hemlock Cove this week because his girlfriend sees ghosts.”
“He would still want to know,” Marcus pointed out. “He loves you. If you’re in danger … .”
“I’m not in danger,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m not the one seeing the ghosts. In fact, I haven’t seen the ghosts since that first night. Annie has, though. I’ve heard her talking to Belinda.”
“I wonder why they’re fixated on Annie,” Thistle said, rubbing the back of her neck. “That can’t be good.”
“They’re probably focused on her because she’s young and has a brighter aura,” Aunt Tillie said. She looked lost in thought. “I had an inkling she had some witch in her. I didn’t think it would come on this strong and fast, though.”
“Is that why you like her?” I asked.
“I like her because she doesn’t give me crap when I suggest something,” Aunt Tillie replied. “She’s a good girl.”
Aunt Tillie always manages to take me by surprise. Every time I write her off as a menace or general nuisance, she does something caring that knocks back my opinion. “She is a good girl,” I agreed. “Belinda doesn’t believe her, though. That’s going to really hurt Annie if we’re not careful.”
“You should know,” Aunt Tillie said, her expression thoughtful as she watched me. “We’re going to have to tell Belinda something. She needs to know that Annie is gifted and that she can’t ignore what Annie is saying just because she can’t see it.”
“Oh, that’s going to be an awesome conversation,” Thistle drawled. “Hey, Belinda? Do you know all of those times we disappear into the woods at night and come back sloshed? Well, we’re witches. Not only do we dance naked out there, we call to the four corners and cast spells, too.
“We also curse people and Bay can see ghosts,” she continued. “Oh, what? You don’t believe us? Well, it gets worse. Your daughter can see ghosts, too. No, wait! Don’t run screaming out of the house and never let us see Annie again.”
If Clove is an optimist, Thistle definitely carries the family pessimist gene.
“That was lovely,” I said. “I know you’re upset, but we’re not going to do that.”
“Certainly not,” Aunt Tillie agreed. “You’re not giving Belinda enough credit. I’m pretty sure she knows something is going on. As for Annie, we have to do what’s right for her. It won’t be easy or simple, but being a witch never is.”
“What do you suggest?” Thistle asked. She was annoyed with Aunt Tillie – as she always was – but she was determined to help Annie.
“Well, for starters, I want to check out that tanker,” Aunt Tillie said. “If we can shut these ghosts down at the source we might be able to buy ourselves some time before telling Belinda what’s going on.
/> “If Bay is right and these aren’t normal ghosts, we’ll have to have a very uncomfortable conversation with Belinda,” she continued. “We can spare one morning to look at that tanker and make a plan.”
“What about Sam and his parents?” I asked. “I think they’re supposed to be spending the day out at the Dandridge. How will we explain what we’re doing?”
“We’ll lie,” Aunt Tillie replied simply. “Don’t worry about that. Leave the explanations to me.”
Thistle and I exchanged a dubious look.
“Oh, good,” Thistle said dryly. “I haven’t been in jail for at least a year. I figured it was about time to break that streak.”
“No one needs your lip, smart mouth,” Aunt Tillie snapped, cuffing Thistle. “I have everything under control. Trust me.”
And there they were, the most terrifying words in the English language being uttered by Aunt Tillie as if she didn’t have a care in the world. It was enough to strike fear in the hearts of all mortals.
It was definitely going to be a long day.
SEVENTEEN
“T his is … ridiculous.”
Thistle complains on a normal day, so making her hike through the woods with Aunt Tillie as we tried to hide our movement from others was essentially asking too much from her fragile patience.
We parked on the side of the road that leads to the Dandridge, trying to camouflage the car as much as possible in case Sam and Clove caught sight of it and got suspicious. Maggie and Richard were already at the lighthouse – they left right after breakfast – and because Clove was already melting down we didn’t want to add to the problem.
Our concern for leaving Annie alone spurred Marcus to volunteer to take her to the stable with him for the day. Belinda was surprised by the offer, but Annie was so glum she readily agreed. Even if the ghosts approached Annie while she was with Marcus, we knew he would somehow find a way to keep her safe. He also planned to film her reaction should she start talking to invisible people so we could see it after the fact.
“Stop your bellyaching,” Aunt Tillie ordered, making a face as she traipsed through the heavy underbrush. She was in her eighties but remained spry. I was fairly impressed at how easily she navigated the wooded expanse. “If I can hike to the tanker, so can you.”
“What are we going to do if the Cornells are at the tanker when we get there?” I asked.
“We’re going to lie.” Aunt Tillie’s response was short and to the point.
“But how?” Thistle pressed. “What will we say we’re doing?”
“I haven’t decided yet, but I’m gifted so I’ll make up a story on the spot,” Aunt Tillie said. “There’s no reason to work yourselves up. Everything will be fine. Trust me.”
Thistle and I exchanged a dubious look.
“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” I hedged. “I’m worried what will happen if we’re caught doing something goofy. Clove is living on the edge right now.”
“Clove is a pain in the butt,” Aunt Tillie said. “She’s always been a pain in the butt and she’ll always be a pain in the butt. She’s a whiner. She’s going to find a reason to melt down no matter what we do. I figure we’re doing her a favor and actually giving her something to complain about.”
“You would think that,” Thistle challenged. “You’re a terrible person when you want to be.”
“I’m going to ignore that because you’re still waking up,” Aunt Tillie said, stepping over a fallen tree branch and causing the light to hit her leggings at an odd angle. They were so shiny they almost caused a glare. “You’re a crabby person, Thistle. You need to learn that being crabby won’t get you anywhere in life.”
That was rich coming from her. “You’re a crabby person,” I pointed out. “It seems to have worked for you.”
“I’m temperamental,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “There’s a big difference. I can be temperamental because I’m eccentric. People happen to love eccentric individuals. That means I can do whatever I want and get away with it.”
I opened my mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. She had a point. “Can I ask you something?”
“No.” Aunt Tillie tilted her head to the side when the lake popped into view. It was still early enough in the morning that the sun wouldn’t bake us, but it was going to be a scorcher by the end of the day. The humidity wasn’t helping.
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” I protested.
“I can tell by your tone that it will annoy me,” Aunt Tillie said. “You always ask annoying questions. You’ve done it since you were a kid.”
“Ha, ha,” Thistle teased, smirking when I burned her with a hot look. “Aunt Tillie is right. You’ve always asked annoying questions. It made me want to punch you when we were younger.”
“I wouldn’t get so high and mighty, mouth,” Aunt Tillie warned. “Bay’s questions were much easier to deal with than your sarcasm.”
“Ha, ha,” I said, my nostrils flaring as I glared at Thistle. “How does that make you feel?”
“Like I want to punch you,” Thistle replied, not missing a beat. “I’ve wanted to punch you all week. You’re the reason that Viola won’t stop talking to me. That’s definitely worth a punch.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as we cut to our right and headed toward the tanker. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you’re such a terrible liar,” Aunt Tillie chided, shaking her head. “I taught you to lie better than that. Put some effort into it.”
Aunt Tillie is the only person who encourages people to lie better when talking to her. “I’ll take a class or something.”
“I could give you a master class if I wasn’t so busy,” Aunt Tillie said, frowning as we circled the tanker and stood on the dock in front of her. Her eyes landed on the ancient ladder on the side of the vessel. “Huh. Is that the only way up?”
I’d forgotten about the difficulty we had climbing onto the ship the other day. “Sam is going to put an entry ramp up, but for now … .”
“Maybe you should stay here,” Thistle suggested, her expression mischievous as she stared at Aunt Tillie. “You are old, after all. You probably can’t climb that ladder. We understand.”
Aunt Tillie narrowed her eyes. There was nothing she loved more than a challenge. “Keep it up, mouth,” she said, reaching for the ladder. “I’ll show you old.”
Thistle smirked. “I’ll catch you if you fall. Don’t worry.”
“You’ll catch my foot in your behind if you don’t shut up,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “Let’s do this.”
“PULL!”
“Push!”
Somehow Aunt Tillie lost the bulk of her strength during the climb, but she refused to turn around. Ten minutes after we started our ascent, Thistle had to conduct a dangerous maneuver and climb over Aunt Tillie so she could be ahead of her and I could follow. That allowed us to buffer her between us. Now that we were at the top, however, we had another problem.
“Push, Bay!” Thistle barked, jerking on Aunt Tillie’s arm as she tried to pull her over the gunwale. “I can’t do everything myself.”
“I am pushing,” I growled, shifting my hands so I had a better grip on Aunt Tillie’s hips. The legging material was slippery. “She’s like a fish and keeps wriggling around.”
“That’s because my underwear are riding up,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “Can’t you two do a simple thing … like push me onto the boat?”
“It’s technically not a boat,” I groused, shoving her as hard as I could and taking Thistle by surprise as she tried to keep hold of Aunt Tillie as she toppled over the edge and onto the deck. They both disappeared from view and I heard a loud thump as Thistle landed. “Are you okay?”
I climbed the final three rungs of the ladder and glanced over. Thistle was on the deck, Aunt Tillie resting safely on top of her, and she looked ticked.
“I’m going to kill you later,” Thistle muttered, her face red from exertion. “I�
�m going to make you cry and kill you. Landon will be attending your funeral by the end of the week.”
“Oh, stop being such a baby,” I said, swinging my leg over the edge of the tanker and helping Aunt Tillie to her feet once I was stable. “Aunt Tillie barely weighs anything.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Thistle snapped. “She didn’t land on you. She’s as heavy as a hibernating bear.”
“I think she’s more like a really large porcupine,” I countered.
“You’re both on my list,” Aunt Tillie growled, shaking her head as she glanced around. “Huh. This is kind of cool, huh?”
It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. “You like the tanker?”
“I always thought I would make a fabulous boat captain,” Aunt Tillie explained. “This isn’t a boat but it’s somehow better. I could totally be a captain, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” I answered automatically. “You could do it professionally.”
“I hear that.” Aunt Tillie screwed up her face in concentration as she studied the deck area. “Do you feel that?”
“I’m still trying to wipe the feeling of your leggings out of my head,” I replied.
“Yeah, what’s the deal with you and the leggings?” Thistle asked. “Are you trying to irritate our mothers or the people in town?”
“I never limit my irritation factor to one group,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I’m not trying to irritate anyone, though. I simply like the leggings.”
I didn’t believe that for a second. I heard Aunt Tillie grunting when the fabric slid into uncomfortable places as we hoisted her up. “Why really?”
“Because your mother told me that I needed to start dressing appropriately for my age and I told her to stuff it,” Aunt Tillie said. “I told her I would wear whatever I wanted and … well … then I saw these when I was shopping online. I thought they would be perfect for proving my point.”
“Ah.” That made perfect sense. “What did she say when she saw them?”
“She hasn’t commented on them yet, but I can tell she hates them,” Aunt Tillie replied. “She’s trying to keep her mouth shut instead of admitting she hates them. She knows I’ll win if she says something, and everyone in this family hates losing.”
Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9 Page 15
