“I’m feeling fine, Clove!” Mrs. Little’s eyes filled with fire. “Don’t worry about me. Mind your own business. Of course, I remember what happened in the woods yesterday. I’m not an idiot.”
“No one said you were an idiot. Although ... you did just call me Clove.”
“Of course, I did. That’s your name.”
I swallowed hard. “My name is Bay.”
“That’s what I said!” Mrs. Little looked close to exploding. “Why are you even out here bothering me, Bay?”
I held my hands up in capitulation. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.” I took a step back, unsure what to do. However I tackled the situation, it was best not to push Mrs. Little in case she was having some sort of medical episode. I would have to call one of her friends to check on her. I saw no other option. “Take it easy, Mrs. Little.”
“I’ll do what I want when I want,” Mrs. Little fired back. “I’m certainly not going to listen to the likes of you.”
I’d already figured that out. “Have a nice day.”
She didn’t respond. I didn’t expect her to. Seriously, though, she was acting even weirder than normal. Something was up.
Alien Inspiration
I’ve given it a lot of thought. Take Invasion of the Body Snatchers, for example. I think people were reading that situation wrong. Imagine how much better it would be if I took everyone over and directed them how to act. That’s a genius idea. The world would be a better place.
Aunt Tillie plotting against the world
Five
Consume mass quantities … of bacon!
I told Thistle and Clove about my run-in with Mrs. Little, but they weren’t exactly worked up about the development.
“Maybe she’s finally giving in to her inner crazy person,” Thistle suggested as she bagged herbs for the store’s display shelves. “We’ve always known the crazy was in there. It might be nice, maybe more comfortable, if she finally let it out to play.”
“She didn’t seem normal,” I argued. “She was almost sleepwalking. I think something might actually be wrong with her. I was thinking about calling Nora Dombrowski to check on her. She’s a retired registered nurse. I figure it couldn’t do any harm.”
Thistle shrugged. “Go ahead, but I think you’re wasting your time.”
“You didn’t see her.” I couldn’t let it go. “There’s no way you would believe she was acting normal if you’d seen her.”
“Then call.” Thistle focused on her work. “You don’t have anything better to do, right? It’s not as if you can go out to the scene and look around.”
“Oh, I’m going back to the scene.”
Clove, who was working behind the counter, jerked her head in my direction. “You’ll get arrested if you go back out there. You heard that Gibson guy. He’ll take you into custody.”
“I’m not worried about that. I have a plan.”
Thistle and Clove groaned in unison.
“Oh, don’t say things like that,” Thistle complained. “You sound like Aunt Tillie.”
“You take that back.”
“No. It’s true.”
“I am nothing like that woman.”
“You can say it all you want. I know you’re exactly like her.”
She was clearly trying to pick a fight. I didn’t have time for that. “I’m going back out there. I’m simply not going to approach from where they would expect.”
“Where are you going to approach from?”
“Hollow Creek.”
Instead of explaining the myriad ways she thought my plan was stupid, Thistle merely cocked her head. “That’s not a bad idea. They won’t see you park there, and because they’re outsiders they won’t know about the shallow part where you can walk straight across. They probably won’t be watching the area. That’s smart.”
I preened. “I thought so.”
“They’ll still arrest you if they find you.”
My smile slipped. “They won’t find me. I’m smarter than them.”
Thistle snorted. “If you say so.” She closed a bag of herbs. “I’d volunteer to go with you, but ... well, I don’t want to. I’m not nearly as interested in this as you are.”
“I’m fine with that. I’ll have a better chance of slipping under the radar alone.”
“Just be careful,” Clove cautioned. “If you get arrested, I don’t think you’ll be able to bail your way out with kisses. Only Landon would allow that, and he’s clearly not in charge.”
“Landon knows I’m going to keep pursuing this. He’s fine with it.”
“Is that what he said or what you heard?” Thistle challenged.
“It’s what he said ... kind of.”
“That’s what I thought. You’d better be careful. I don’t think Agent Gibson is messing around.”
“Neither am I.” I zipped the front of my hoodie. “That’s why I have to get going. Clove, I need you to call Nora and tell her to check on Mrs. Little. Do you think you can do that?”
Clove balked. “Why does it have to be me?”
“Because I said so. I’m the oldest and what I say goes.”
“Whatever.” Clove rolled her eyes. “I’ll call, but only because I’m a little concerned, too. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll lock Mrs. Little up because she really is crazy.”
“I would prefer her being crazy than something else,” I admitted. “I have to get going. I’ll be in touch.”
“And we’ll be waiting for updates with bated breath,” Thistle teased. “Have fun with the government conspiracy.”
“You joke, but I plan to break this wide open. Just you wait.”
I WAS FAMILIAR WITH Hollow Creek, so I knew exactly where to park to obscure my car. The creek was running faster than normal because it was spring. We’d had a lot of snow during the winter, which meant the creek ran higher than normal. Still, I rolled up my pants and took off my shoes, carrying a towel to the other side so I could dry off my feet and climb back into my sneakers before setting off through the woods toward Potter’s Field. I left the towel behind for my return trip. The water was cold enough that my toes felt numb, but I sent a bit of warming magic through my socks and I barely noticed as I cut through the trees.
It was a mile-long hike. The distance didn’t bother me as much as the isolation. I grew up in the woods, playing with my cousins in the trees whenever the mood struck. I wasn’t afraid of the trees, but I wasn’t keen on making the hike alone. I didn’t have an option, though, so I sucked it up.
The closer I got to the scene, the more noises I heard. Most of the noise came in the form of people talking to each other, but I could also make out heavy equipment — perhaps a tractor — as rescue crews toiled in the field. I slowed my pace and stuck to the trees so I could watch, pulling up short when I caught the first hint of movement.
Potter’s Field bustled with activity. There had to be at least forty people working in the field, and most of them appeared to be wearing some sort of protective gear. They looked kind of like blue space suits. The suits boasted helmets of sorts with what looked to be Plexiglas covering the faces. The workers walked in tandem, about five feet apart, and searched the field in a grid pattern. I recognized it from forest searches for missing children, a few of which I’d been a part of over the years, so I understood what was happening.
They were searching for something. But what?
I squinted as I stared at the field. There was no longer any smoke rising, but a heavy cloud remained over the area, and the scent that lingered was almost overwhelming. I enjoyed a good bonfire as much as anyone, so smoke didn’t usually bother me. This was something else entirely. Along with the smoky scent, I could just make out a more acrid smell.
My biggest problem was the fact that I couldn’t make out the lines of an aircraft in the blackened part of the field. Clearly, a fire had burned long and hot, but the remnants of the drone (or plane, if they were sticking to the original story) should still be visible. There was nothi
ng.
I stared for a long time, practically willing myself to find something to see. I reasoned that it was there but somehow obscured, perhaps hiding in plain sight like one of those posters in which you have to relax your eyes to see the hidden picture. There was always the possibility that the craft hit so hard it plowed into the ground and broke into a thousand bits on contact. That seemed unlikely, but it was all I had to work with.
I was lost in thought as I watched the work, stirring only when a cry went out amongst the searchers and I jerked my head to the left. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening. One of the men in the search grid was on his knees and several other workers converged on him, concern evident. My initial thought was that he’d found whatever they were looking for.
Then something else happened.
A man in a silver suit that was much like the others, but fancier, shoved the other searchers out of the way as he approached the man on the ground. It was hard to hear, but I listened hard and picked up a few stray bits of conversation.
“... burns on his hands ... .”
“Looks to have spread to his chest.”
“... having trouble breathing and ... look at that.”
I wanted to run over and get a better look but remained hidden from sight. I cursed myself for not lifting Aunt Tillie’s binoculars before leaving the inn this morning. I didn’t even think about it, but I was so far away I couldn’t make out anything. If I detached from the trees now, made my presence known, I would surely be taken into custody.
No matter how my curiosity spiked, I was stuck in the trees with no way to ascertain what was really happening.
I watched for what felt like a long time. Eventually, the fallen man was taken from the field and transported to what looked to be a medical van on the far side of the field. It was white with red marks on the side. Even though I tried to zoom in with my phone, I couldn’t make out the lettering on the side of the van. I was simply too far away.
Not long after the man was dragged away, the search resumed. I stayed hidden in my spot for at least an hour, but no one called out again. Apparently, they found nothing else. But the search continued.
What the heck was going on out here?
I HAD MORE QUESTIONS than answers by the time I returned to town. I parked in front of Hypnotic, intending to slip inside so I could describe what I’d seen to Thistle and Clove and hash things out. Instead, when I saw Landon’s Explorer in front of the diner, I headed in that direction.
Even though I knew he was incapable of answering my questions, I couldn’t stop myself.
Chief Terry and Landon sat at their usual table — no sign of Agent Gibson — when I entered. Landon immediately lifted his head, as if he sensed me, and smiled as I approached.
“Hey, sweetie.” He stood and pulled out a chair for me. “I wasn’t sure you were around this afternoon. I went to the newspaper office, but you weren’t there.”
“Did you go inside?”
Landon nodded. “I did. You’ve been working hard. You definitely need to get some art in there. I don’t like the blank walls.”
“You sound like Thistle.”
“I won’t fight with you despite the fact that you said that.” Landon returned to his chair, his eyes keen as they roamed my face. “You look tired. Where have you been?”
I shrugged as I slid out of my hoodie. “Out and about. Nowhere special.”
Landon clearly didn’t believe me because he narrowed his eyes. “Why are you lying?”
His tone grated. “I thought we talked about this after breakfast. We both have jobs to do, right? This time our jobs simply can’t coexist, so we’re not sharing information.”
“I don’t remember specifically agreeing to that.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how things turned out.” I plucked a menu from the center of the table and opened it. “Oh, they have hot beef sandwiches on special. That sounds good.”
“Comfort food,” Chief Terry agreed, speaking for the first time. “You look tired, Bay. Didn’t you sleep last night?” The look he shot Landon was accusatory. “Didn’t you let her sleep last night?”
“Oh, geez.” Landon rolled his eyes. “Don’t turn this into something it isn’t. Bay was upset with me last night because of what happened with Gibson. We didn’t exactly fight, although we didn’t exactly get along either. She slept. It wasn’t some long and overblown affair or anything.”
“He’s right. I slept.” I flashed a smile for Chief Terry’s benefit. I had a father of my own. He hadn’t lived in Hemlock Cove for half of my life, but he’d moved back about a year ago. I considered Chief Terry my second father. We were unbelievably tight. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Doing what?” Chief Terry knew me well, so he was instantly suspicious.
“Well, for starters, have you seen Mrs. Little today?” I thought distracting Landon and Chief Terry was probably my best option.
Landon furrowed his brow. “Why would I want to see Mrs. Little? She’s generally the last person on my wish list when it comes to friendly town interaction.”
“I didn’t seek her out. Trust me. I ran into her when I was going to Hypnotic.”
“I haven’t seen her since yesterday,” Chief Terry supplied. “She was all fired up about what was going on in Potter’s Field, demanding answers even though she has no standing to demand anything. I mean ... she’s head of the Downtown Development Authority, for crying out loud. It’s not as if she’s the mayor.”
“Do you guys even have a mayor?” Landon moved his hand to the back of my neck and idly rubbed. It was as if he could sense the tension pooling there. “I don’t think I’ve ever met the mayor.”
“We have a mayor.” Chief Terry’s expression darkened. “He doesn’t really do anything, though. He’s more of a figurehead.”
“The council runs the town,” I explained. “The mayor barely shows up for the council meetings.”
“Oh, right. I think you’ve told me that before.” Landon dug into my tense muscles. “Why are you so tense?”
I thought about what I’d seen in Potter’s Field and shrugged. “It’s been a long morning. It started with running into Mrs. Little. She was acting off.”
Chief Terry snorted. “As compared to what? That woman has been off since the day I met her. I was a kid and she was an adult when that happened, so that’s saying something.”
“No, not ‘off’ like mean and nasty, like she usually is,” I argued. “It was more like she wasn’t entirely there. She didn’t see me at first, which is difficult to understand because she was practically on top of me. I had to speak to her twice before she responded.”
Chief Terry sobered. “You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?”
“I am.” I nodded. “She seemed confused. I was trying to get information from her in case she saw something at Potter’s Field yesterday — don’t give me grief about that, by the way, because I’m not in the mood — but she seemed confused about what I was asking. Then she referred to me as Clove.”
Landon leaned closer. “She called you Clove?”
“Yeah. She was out of it. Her eyes were glazed, and I was worried. I tried to talk to her, to offer help, but then she snapped back to her usual terrible self and it was as if I’d imagined everything ... although I know I didn’t imagine anything.”
Landon and Chief Terry exchanged confused looks.
“What do you think it was?” Chief Terry asked, legitimately curious.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was jarred enough by the exchange that I asked Clove to call Nora Dombrowski to check on her. I figured that Nora would better recognize the signs of a stroke or something and because they’re friends Mrs. Little would be less likely to pitch a fit.”
“That was smart,” Chief Terry said. “What did Nora say?”
“I didn’t talk to her. I had someplace else to be. Clove did it for me. I haven’t checked back in with Clove yet.”
“Well, I’ll take the
time to check on her after lunch,” Chief Terry offered. “You know, just to be on the safe side.”
“That’s good. Thank you.” When I shifted my gaze to Landon, I found him staring at me with unveiled interest. “What?”
“You said you had someplace else to be. Where was that?”
My antenna went up and I purposely kept my face blank. “Just some work stuff.”
“What work stuff?”
Well, if he wanted to push, I could turn the tables and do the same. “What did you guys do this morning?”
“We worked with Agent Gibson,” Landon replied without hesitation. “You know that. You also know we can’t talk about that.”
“Well, I can’t talk about my work either,” I said primly. “We both agreed that we would keep to our official sides of the line on this one. I had things to do this morning. So did you. It is what it is.”
Landon scowled. “I hate this. Just ... tell me what you were doing. It’ll drive me crazy if you don’t.”
For the first time since I realized he wouldn’t be sharing information I found myself enjoying the situation. If I was driving him crazy, at least we were on even footing. “I can’t tell you. I mean ... I could ... but then I’d have to kill you. It’s top secret. I’m simply following orders.”
“Oh, good grief.” Landon shot Chief Terry an incredulous look. “Can you believe she’s playing things this way?”
“I think it sounds exactly right.” Chief Terry chuckled, amused. “She’ll only get worse the longer this carries on. She said it herself. It is what it is. We can’t change it. She can’t change it either.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Landon shot back. “She’ll drive me insane running all over the place without telling me where she’s going. It’s not funny!”
Chief Terry’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “It’s a little funny.”
Close Encounters of the Witchy Kind (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 6) Page 5
