“So ... Invasion of the Body Snatchers?” I asked.
Aunt Tillie shook her head. “No. Worse. Star Trek II.”
“Oh, The Wrath of Khan.”
“Yes.” Aunt Tillie was deathly serious. “Batten down the hatches. Spock is about to die.”
“Spock isn’t real,” Thistle pointed out.
Aunt Tillie’s scowl was back. “It was a metaphor. Can’t you ever just let me say what I want to say without being a pain in the butt?”
“It’s a stupid metaphor,” Thistle complained.
I barely kept one ear on their argument as I focused on Mrs. Little. Her smile never wavered. She seemed to be enjoying the show, if she even understood it.
“So, where did we land on that tea?” Mrs. Little asked finally. “I would love to spend some quality time with you, Tillie.”
“Set phasers on stun,” Clove intoned, leaning forward. “I’m starting to think Aunt Tillie’s alien theory makes sense.”
Sadly, I couldn’t entirely push it out of my mind either. What a freaking day.
Alien Inspiration
Does anyone ever worry that Aunt Tillie will somehow make the movie Cocoon a reality? Imagine if she actually managed to reverse the signs of aging. She could legitimately outlive us. That is a terrifying thought. Yeah … we definitely need to keep Aunt Tillie from meeting aliens. It will mean the end for us.
Thistle vents her frustration with Aunt Tillie
Seven
From Hemlock Cove … a warning and an ultimatum.
I spent the next hour pretending I couldn’t hear what Aunt Tillie said while keeping watch on the police station. A constant stream of words escaped my great-aunt’s mouth — each one more ridiculous than the previous statement — and a constant stream of people parked at the station, went inside and then left.
It seemed suspicious and I was bothered because I had absolutely no idea what was going on.
“If we’re going to fight aliens, I think we should all take on personas,” Aunt Tillie noted as she munched on a bag of potato chips supplied by Clove. “I want to be Ripley. She’s the biggest badass of the group.”
Clove, who was much more interested in chick flicks than science fiction, wrinkled her nose. “Who is Ripley?”
Aunt Tillie made an exaggerated face. “Are you serious?”
Clove merely blinked.
“You’re out of the family,” Aunt Tillie hissed. “You’ve finally done it. You’ve embarrassed me to the point of no return. I can’t even look at you.” As if to prove it, she pressed her hand over her eyes and made a series of distressed sounds as she swung her legs back and forth on the chair. “Who is Ripley? I mean ... are you trying to kill me?”
Instead of responding to Aunt Tillie, Clove shifted her gaze to me. “Who is Ripley?”
“Sigourney Weaver in the Alien movies,” I answered, my eyes still on the police station. “Five different vehicles have parked across the way in the past hour. Five different men entered the building and then left again. None of the vehicles are marked. Don’t you find that weird?”
Aunt Tillie nodded without hesitation. “That’s how ‘The Man’ operates. They’re over there plotting how they’re going to keep the aliens secret. They don’t care that the aliens want to kill us. They only care that we don’t find out the aliens want to kill us.”
Thistle, who had moved to the floor so she could continue sorting herbs, was blasé. “See, I don’t get the aliens wanting to kill us thing. Why travel millions of light years to visit Earth and immediately decide to attack?”
“You don’t know it’s immediate,” Aunt Tillie countered. “It could be like War of the Worlds. They could’ve planted big ships — or crawlers, whatever those things were — in the ground and decided to awaken them because they watched long enough to realize we deserve to die.
“I mean, think about it,” she continued. “What if you were an alien, a superior being from another planet, and you came to Earth and the first thing you saw was a Kardashian? Or Margaret Little, for that matter?”
I finally dragged my eyes from the police station and focused on Aunt Tillie. “Where is your new buddy? I thought you were going to meet her for tea.”
“No, I told her I’d call her and we’d set up a date for tea,” Aunt Tillie clarified. “Then I sent her back to play with her unicorns while I figure out exactly what she’s up to. It’s not good, by the way. I’ve narrowed it down to three things.”
“Do we want to know those three things?” I asked dryly.
“I don’t.” Clove vehemently shook her head. “Whenever we know the things, we end up in trouble. I don’t want to be in trouble. Sam and I are grilling tonight for the first time this season, and if there’s trouble I won’t get my steak.”
Clove’s live-in boyfriend Sam had been good for her in many ways. He listened to her, encouraged her and even stood up for her during family battles. He also coddled her, which made Clove even more of a whiner than she had been while growing up. It was annoying.
“I’m going to tell you anyway.” Aunt Tillie barreled forward as if Clove hadn’t said a word. “Margaret is a master at manipulation. She always has been. My first hunch is that she’s working with the rest of the women in town to drive me crazy. They’re all jealous because — well, I’m me — and none of them can be me. This is her attempt to lull me into a false sense of security so she can lure me away from town and kill me in the woods.”
Thistle tilted her head to the side, considering. “How is she going to kill you?”
“Probably a wood chipper.”
“Fargo?”
“Universal Soldier.”
“Of course.” Thistle bobbed her head. “Continue.”
“I think this is the most likely scenario, but given what’s going on, something else could be afoot,” Aunt Tillie enthused. “It’s possible that she was taken over by an alien from the crashed ship.”
“Except it was a drone,” I pointed out.
“Puh-leez.” Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes to the sky, as if pleading for the Goddess to make her idiotic great-nieces see the error of their ways. “It was a spaceship. You don’t want to admit that — and I get it because you lack imagination and need to believe ‘The Man’ would never hide something this big from you — but it was definitely a spaceship. The invasion has already begun. It’s too late to stop it from happening, but it’s not too late to bring it to an end.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I made a dismissive wave. “We’ve heard about the invasion. Let it go.”
Aunt Tillie had no intention of doing that. “You know darned well the alien invasion is happening. You saw Margaret with your own eyes. She was even loopier than normal, and none of us thought that was possible.”
“She was a little nutty,” Clove confirmed. “Maybe she has been invaded by aliens.”
Oh, geez. This was the last thing I needed. Clove was always the first person in the family to fall for Aunt Tillie’s wild theories. Twila would be next. Then Thistle would start with the “maybe she’s right” crap. Ultimately, I’d be the only one standing firm. Okay, I wouldn’t stand firm. I’d fall victim to the hysteria and we’d all do something stupid together. That’s the Winchester way, and things weren’t suddenly going to cease following normal patterns now.
“She hasn’t been invaded by aliens,” Thistle snapped.
“How would you explain it?” Aunt Tillie challenged. “Bay said she was out at the field yesterday. Something weird is happening at that crash site. Now Margaret is acting friendly, when we all know that she wouldn’t be nice to us if someone had a gun to her head. There’s only one explanation.”
“Aliens, right?” My temper was threatening to fray. “Last time I checked it was the sort of aliens from Invasion of the Body Snatchers, right?”
“Mock all you want,” Aunt Tillie shot back. “I’m right about this. All my preparations are finally going to come to fruition.”
I had no idea what that meant. “W
hat preparations?”
“You know. My preparations for the end times.”
“I thought you prepared for the zombie apocalypse,” I challenged. “I don’t remember you preparing for an alien invasion.”
“I thought she prepared for when the electrical grid failed,” Thistle countered. “That’s when the Russians nuke us, right?”
“Not just the Russians.” Aunt Tillie pinned Thistle with a dark look. “Don’t be absurd. The Russians don’t have the power to do it themselves. North Korea helps.”
“Of course.”
“And Canada.”
I stilled. “Wait ... Canada is attacking our power grid? Why? They’re nice – and they like us.”
Aunt Tillie waved me off with a dismissive gesture. “Don’t you know an act when you see one? They’re setting us up. They’re playing the long game. They’re putting drugs in our maple syrup to control our minds.”
“Uh-huh.” This conversation was getting old. “Let’s go back to talking about the people going in and out of the police station. What government agency do you think they’re from?”
Aunt Tillie had no intention of ceding her current spot as center of the universe. “I’m telling you that Margaret Little has been invaded by aliens, and I’m prepared to take them down.”
“I think you’ll do a masterful job of it,” Clove said enthusiastically. “I’m glad that you’ve prepared.”
“Yes, I’m glad you’ve prepared,” Thistle drawled. “Is that why you’ve been hanging around Hank in the woods?”
Aunt Tillie adopted an innocent expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The weird prepper who lives in the woods,” Thistle pressed. “We all know you’ve seen him a time or two at the very least. Do you want to know how we know? He told us. Yup. He told us you visit him all the time.”
“I don’t know if he said ‘all the time,’” Clove hedged. “He did say he sees you occasionally.”
“Well, Hank William Jenkins has a big mouth,” Aunt Tillie challenged. “He’s also not very bright. I mean ... his mother named him Hank William Jenkins. How weird is that?”
“We’re named after herbs,” I pointed out.
“Be glad no one named you garlic and shut up about that,” Aunt Tillie warned. “Do you have any idea how sick I am of hearing about that?”
“Not as sick as we are of being named after herbs,” Thistle shot back.
“Ugh. I’m done.” Aunt Tillie held up her hands. “I can’t believe you idiots are on my alien invasion team. I should’ve picked better.”
“Yes, well, you’ll know better for next time.” I slowly got to my feet and walked to the door. “I’m heading over to the police station before going home. I want to see what they’re up to over there.”
“I thought Landon warned you not to get involved in the police side of things this time,” Clove argued. “Won’t he be angry if he sees you?”
I shrugged. “He’ll get over it. It’s not as if we’re going to break up because I poked my nose into an investigation. If that was the rule, we wouldn’t have made it to our third date.”
“She has a point.” Aunt Tillie said sagely.
I paused with my hand on the door knob and turned back to face her. “You said there were three possibilities for why Mrs. Little was acting weird. What’s the third?”
“That she’s trying to irritate me just to irritate me,” Aunt Tillie replied.
“Oh, well, that’s it,” Thistle said.
“That’s definitely it,” Clove agreed.
“I’m going with the third option,” I offered.
Aunt Tillie’s expression was withering. “Seriously, how did you guys end up on my alien invasion team? This is just the worst.”
I LEFT THISTLE AND CLOVE to deal with Aunt Tillie’s alien invasion delusions and headed for the police station. It was a small building — only two entrances — and I figured walking through the front door was a mistake. Chief Terry’s secretary was often bothered by my presence, and if Agent Gibson was inside he was most likely working in the small conference room at the front of the building. The people I was interested in talking to were at the back of the building.
I lucked out upon entering. The building was mostly quiet, no one loitering in the hallway. I heard people talking at the other end of the corridor, but I didn’t recognize the voices. That meant it was probably Agent Gibson’s team. I wasn’t interested in hearing what they had to say ... at least for now.
The low voices I heard in Chief Terry’s office were of more interest to me. I recognized both right away, and they didn’t sound happy.
“He won’t let me see the report from the hospital,” Landon said. The door to Chief Terry’s office was cracked, but I still had to strain to hear. If someone walked into the hallway and saw me, I’d be in a lot of trouble. That didn’t dissuade me from listening. I was so curious there was almost nothing that could yank me from my current plan of attack.
“What do you think he’s hiding in that report?” Chief Terry asked.
“You know what I think he’s hiding.” Landon sounded weary. I couldn’t see his face, but I recognized the tone. He was tired and crabby, never a good combination. “He’s in charge, yet he’s keeping us almost completely in the dark. I don’t like it.”
“What other options do we have?” Always a pragmatic soul, Chief Terry was calm as he asked the question. “You’re not in charge of this one. Oh, don’t make that face. I didn’t say it to irritate you. No, really. I would much rather have you in charge than that ... asshat.”
Landon snorted. “You picked up that word from Bay.”
“Actually, Bay picked up that word from Marnie back in the day,” Chief Terry corrected. “The girls used it for a long time, although I think Bay is the only one who still uses it.”
“You know, sometimes it annoys me that you know more about my girlfriend than I do,” Landon groused.
“I don’t know more about her. I’ve simply known her longer. I can guarantee that you know more about her than I do. And, no, I don’t want to know what those things are. You’re perverted enough in my head that I can barely tolerate things as it is.”
Now it was Landon’s turn to be amused. “Oh, now, don’t be like that. You love me, and you know it.”
“Very rarely do I love you.”
“You love Bay.”
“I do love Bay.”
“She loves me.”
“Which is the only reason you’re not dead,” Chief Terry fired back, causing me to smile at his gruff tone. His bark may be worse than his bite, but in fact, he has no bite. He’s a big marshmallow, especially where Winchester witches are concerned. He doted on us, spoiled us. He also disciplined us when things fell apart on the home front. He always did his best for us, something I’ll never forget.
“I think you talk big, but you really like me.” Landon heaved out a sigh. I could practically see him in my head. I knew how he looked when he was tired. He would be rubbing his forehead ... and maybe the back of his neck. He would be shifting in his chair. “I don’t know what to do about this situation. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” Chief Terry admitted. “It’s not just the fact that they’re keeping something from us — and I’m against that on general principle because we’re supposed to be working together — but it’s also the fact that weird things are going on.”
“A lot of weird things,” Landon agreed. “There are so many weird things going on I’m afraid that Bay will stumble over something and turn it into a huge ordeal.”
“She’s definitely digging,” Chief Terry said. “She won’t let up. You know that, don’t you? She’ll go deep until she finds what she’s looking for.”
“I know.” Landon almost sounded petulant. “It’s pure torture knowing she’s running around out there. How close do you think she got to that field?”
“I don’t know. She’s familiar with the area. It’s possible
she got a lot closer than Gibson’s men believe.”
“Gibson’s men didn’t see her today,” Landon said. “I know she was out there, though. Her shoes were filthy.”
“Tillie was out there. She was sighted twice. The men were laughing about her antics. They said she was a harmless little old lady wandering in the woods.”
Landon snorted. “They have a surprise coming.”
“I’m almost looking forward to Tillie taking them on,” Chief Terry admitted. “That doesn’t mean I like cutting Bay out of this. I’m not used to it, and the more it happens, the more determined she’ll be to get a story.”
“I told Gibson that,” Landon argued. “I told him he needs to share something with her if he wants her to go away. He won’t listen. He thinks Bay is some cute little weekly reporter who will simply obey orders.”
“We know better.”
“I don’t like being separated from her on stuff like this,” Landon said. “She tends to dive in headfirst on these things. I hate that I can’t be there if she needs me. I mean ... I really hate it.”
“Bay took care of herself long before you showed up,” Chief Terry supplied. “She’ll be okay.”
“I know that, but it’s different now. She can ... well, she can do more than she could do even a few weeks ago.”
Chief Terry made an odd throat-clearing sound. “You know, I don’t like to talk about stuff like that. The ... weird stuff. We should let that go for the time being.”
“Fine. I don’t know what to say about it anyway.”
“Great. Um ... back to work. I don’t see how we can move forward if Gibson won’t tell us exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“Maybe we should press him again,” Landon suggested. “He’ll probably say no, but there’s no harm in asking.”
“Fair enough.”
I heard feet shuffling on the floor and scurried away from the door, ducking around the corner to hide before Landon and Chief Terry hit the hallway.
Close Encounters of the Witchy Kind (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Fantasy Book 6) Page 7
