I swung out to kick her under the table and missed. She really was quicker than I gave her credit for sometimes.
“What do you mean?” Brian asked curiously.
“Aren’t you trying to sell the paper?”
Crap. I should have embraced Thistle’s ignore Aunt Tillie mantra.
For his part, Brian looked both surprised and uncomfortable. “No,” he said. “I’m not trying to sell the paper. Where would you get that idea?”
I expected Aunt Tillie to throw me under the bus. She never does what you expect, though.
“Mrs. White said you were considering it,” she lied smoothly.
“Mrs. White? From the unicorn store? How would she know anything about me and the paper?”
“You like to brag about yourself,” Aunt Tillie said evenly. “I figured you were just bragging about it to her.”
“Well, Mrs. White is mistaken,” Brian said carefully.
“Are you calling her a liar?” Aunt Tillie looked outraged. It was an impressive feat since the whole story was made up.
“Of course not,” Brian held his hands up in a placating manner. “I’m just thinking that she heard an errant rumor or something.”
“Dude,” one of the snowboarding hipsters seated on the other side of the table finally spoke around a mouthful of food. “I wouldn’t mess with her.”
Brian looked at the kid and dismissed him immediately. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Tillie knows things,” the kid said. “She can see the future.”
I slid a suspicious glance in Aunt Tillie’s direction. “Has she been reading your fortune for you?”
“Sludge saw me reading my tarot cards,” Aunt Tillie said. “He wanted to know what I saw.”
Aunt Tillie couldn’t really read tarot cards. She only got them out when she wanted to make a little extra money from unsuspecting tourists.
“And what did your future hold, Sludge?” I asked curiously.
“It wasn’t very good,” he said honestly. “She said I was going to make the run of all runs on the Devil’s Snare after the blizzard. Unfortunately, I would fall to my death from the chairlift afterwards.”
Nice.
“She took the curse off of me, though,” Sludge said brightly. “Now I won’t die after the run.”
“And how much did that cost you?” I asked dryly.
“Only fifty bucks,” Sludge said. “I figured my life was well worth fifty bucks.”
I turned to Aunt Tillie incredulously. “You don’t think that’s a little underhanded?” I whispered under my breath.
“The boy named himself Sludge,” Aunt Tillie said dismissively. “He deserves what he gets.”
Marnie decided to change the subject – a move I was grateful for. “So, how are you liking the area, Trevor?”
Twelve sets of eyes shifted their focus to Trevor. He didn’t look thrilled with the sudden attention. “It’s nice,” he said. “The people are nice.”
“That’s good,” Marnie said.
“What exactly did Mrs. White tell you?” Brian piped up from down at the other end of the table.
Aunt Tillie turned her attention back to him. “She said you were trying to sell the newspaper and get out of town.”
She was sticking to the lie.
“I don’t understand why someone would spread a rumor like that,” Brian looked genuinely concerned.
“It’s probably because you’re running around with scoundrels,” Aunt Tillie explained breezily.
“Scoundrels?”
“Ted Proctor,” Aunt Tillie replied.
Thistle looked like she was about ready to jump up from her chair and stab Aunt Tillie with her fork. I put my hand on her arm to still her, shaking my head in warning. That would just give Aunt Tillie what she wanted.
“Ted Proctor is a businessman,” Brian said firmly. “I understand he has a . . . dubious past with your family. That doesn’t make him a good businessman, though.”
“There’s nothing good about that man,” Aunt Tillie replied.
“That’s enough,” Thistle hissed. “He’s my father.”
“That’s not your fault, dear,” Aunt Tillie said blithely. “Thankfully, you got most of our genes and your mother changed your last name when you were little.”
Thistle looked surprised. “What do you mean? Was my last name Proctor at one time?”
“Of course,” Aunt Tillie said. “Your father wanted you to have his name.”
“Until you scared him off?”
So much for ignoring her. I figured that plan was dead in the water before she even launched it.
“I didn’t scare him off,” Aunt Tillie seethed. “He left on his own. That’s what cowards do.”
Thistle jumped to her feet. I was afraid she was going to attack Aunt Tillie – or at least scream at her in front of the guests – but she stormed out to the kitchen instead.
“You really are unbelievable,” I sighed.
“Sometimes the truth, whether you want to hear it or not, is hard to hear,” Aunt Tillie said honestly. “Thistle has some hard truths in her future.”
I couldn’t disagree with that, especially knowing that Uncle Teddy was starting to look like he really was up to something nefarious. Still, though, I was loyal to Thistle.
“You could at least let her face those truths wearing real pants,” I grumbled.
Aunt Tillie considered my statement. “I’ll think about it.”
Twenty-One
The next morning, we all got up early and headed to town as soon as possible. There’s something about the air when a blizzard is about to hit. Even when you’re outside, things feel like they’re closing in on you. That’s exactly how Hemlock Cove felt today.
“It’s definitely coming,” Clove said, lifting her head to sniff the air with her ski-slope nose.
“Yeah, you can feel it,” Thistle agreed.
“I’m going to go down to the paper and make sure everything is set there and then I’ll come back and help you get the wood shutters closed,” I said.
“Okay,” Thistle agreed. “It’s always such a pain.”
“It’s better than the windows breaking,” I reminded her.
“That’s definitely true,” Thistle agreed.
“At least your jeans fit again,” I reminded her, glancing down at her well-worn blue jeans.
“Yeah, but she just swapped out curses,” Thistle said bitterly.
“What do you mean?”
Thistle pointed to her lip. “I’m getting a cold sore.”
“That could just be a coincidence.”
Thistle looked at me like I had just sprouted wings. “Do you really believe that?”
“No,” I shook my head. “We’ll stop at the store and pick up some medicine on our way home. They have that one-dose stuff now that is supposed to work practically overnight.”
“I’m going to go rub my lip all over her favorite recliner,” Thistle promised angrily.
“Well, just tell me before you go,” I replied easily. “I’m going to want to take a picture.”
I left Clove and Thistle to their blizzard preparations and headed towards The Whistler. I considered stopping in to see Chief Terry first, but figured I might as well get everything set with this week’s edition first.
Once I was at the paper, Edith met me at the door. “We’re getting a blizzard.”
“I heard.”
“I don’t like snow.”
“Well, then why did you live in Northern Lower Michigan?”
“This is where I grew up.”
“Oh.”
“I always had this reoccurring nightmare about being buried alive in an avalanche,” Edith said.
“We don’t have mountains here,” I reminded her. “We can’t have an avalanche.”
“That’s not the point,” Edith said stiffly.
“Also, you’re a ghost. You don’t breathe.”
Edith sighed tiredly. “I expect
you’ll be away from the paper for a couple of days then”
“Probably,” I agreed. “I’m just here to finish up a couple of things and then we’re going home. We’re still not sure when the storm is supposed to hit – or when it’s supposed to get really bad.”
“So, I’ll be here all alone?”
“You can come out to the inn, if you want.” I immediately regretted extending the invitation. Aunt Tillie was going to curse me with a cold sore to match Thistle’s if Edith made an appearance out at The Overlook.
“Spend time with your Aunt Tillie? On purpose? Pffft.”
Well, that was good to know.
“Is Brian here yet?”
“No,” Edith shook her head.
“Aunt Tillie confronted him about selling the paper last night,” I explained.
“Did he admit it?”
“No, he denied it.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well, at least now he knows that we’re on to him,” Edith said.
“If that’s what he’s really doing,” I agreed.
“You don’t think that’s what he’s doing?”
“I just don’t know.”
I spent about two hours finishing things up at the paper. I repeated my invitation to visit the inn to Edith before I left, locking the door behind me. Brian hadn’t made an appearance, and I didn’t know if he was going to.
I headed back towards Hypnotic, stopping at the police station first. The secretary’s desk was empty, so I walked directly to Chief Terry’s office.
“You missed dinner last night,” I said by way of greeting.
“I know, I had a lot of stuff to check on with the storm coming,” Chief Terry replied. “Your moms sent a big plate over for me, though. They’re wonderful women.”
He didn’t have to live in close proximity to them.
“What kinds of things?”
“I like to check on the seniors before a big storm and make sure they’re okay,” Chief Terry said. “I offered them transportation if they wanted to stay with a family member or something.”
“You’re a pretty good guy,” I said fondly.
“It’s no big deal,” Chief Terry said gruffly, his face turning red.
“So, anything knew on the boat?”
“The forensic team found fingerprints below deck and on top,” he said. “We’re running them now, but that could take a long time.”
“Well, at least that’s something,” I said.
“That’s not all the forensic team found,” Chief Terry said grimly.
Uh-oh.
“The dogs alerted on a scent.”
“Cadaver dogs?”
“No, narcotic-sniffing dogs.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“What was an elderly couple doing with drugs?”
“That is the question,” Chief Terry agreed. “Of course, we don’t know if they put the drugs on there or if something happened to them and someone else used the boat to transport drugs. All we know is that were a few empty crates on the boat and we think they had drugs in them.”
“You mean they could have been killed for their boat,” I deduced aloud.
“Pretty much,” Chief Terry agreed.
“So what’s next?”
“Next? We batten down the hatches and survive the blizzard. That’s all we can do at this point.”
Twenty-Two
“I think we should go back out to the Dragonfly.”’ I made the bold announcement when I walked into Hypnotic – before I got a chance to talk myself out of it.
“I knew it!” Clove exploded.
“I figured,” Thistle nodded, barely looking up from her task. “If we’re going to go, we need to do it now.”
Clove’s eyebrows nearly shot off of her forehead. “It’s going to start snowing soon.” She’s got a tendency to whine – which has a tendency to irritate Thistle and I.
“That’s why we have to go now,” Thistle said calmly. “No one should be out there because the blizzard is coming and we still have a few hours before the blizzard hits. What better time will we have?”
“How about never?” Clove griped
“Would you rather go now or in the dark again?” Thistle asked pragmatically.
Clove bit her lower lip. “Fine,” she slammed the ledger book she was balancing down on the counter angrily. “But if I die, I’m haunting you forever.”
“Why would you die?”
“That coffin is probably empty now,” she exclaimed. “They need someone to put in it.”
“What coffin?” I asked.
“There was no coffin,” Thistle said irritably.
“Then what did the killers drag out of the Dragonfly?” Clove asked sagely.
“What killers?” Thistle was losing her cool.
“The ones we saw at the Dragonfly,” Clove replied.
“Who did they kill?” I asked curiously. Clove’s mind was a mystery sometimes.
“The people from the boat,” Clove responded testily.
“The people from the boat on the channel? How did you get there?”
“Who else was in the coffin?” Clove was exasperated.
“What coffin?” Thistle and I both exploded at the same time.
“The one from the inn,” Clove shot back angrily, glaring at us like we were the crazy ones.
“I’m going to kill you,” Thistle seethed.
IT TOOK us another forty-five minutes to make sure Hypnotic was locked up tight. Then we all crowded into Thistle’s car and headed back out towards the Dragonfly. The air had turned bitterly cold in the intervening hours since we’d gotten to town and the wind was starting to pick up. Thankfully, the snow hadn’t hit yet.
“Do you think we should stop back at home long enough to change our clothes?” Thistle asked.
“No,” I shook my head. “That will look really strange if someone sees us.”
“People already think we’re strange,” Thistle reminded me.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Not that strange, though. Let’s just go and get it done.”
When we got out to the Dragonfly, Thistle pulled off to the side of the road and parked where she had before. In the daylight, the car was fairly obvious, but there was no getting around that.
“What if someone sees us?” Clove asked.
“Then we’ll either run or play like we’re dumb girls who got lost,” Thistle said grimly.
We entered the inn the same way we had before. We had left the front door unlocked when we left that night, but I wasn’t surprised to find it locked again. Thistle used the same spell to tumble the lock and we closed the door behind us as we entered.
In the light of day, the front foyer looked even creepier than it had in the dark. There was a layer of dust on every surface, marred only by the footprints that tracked through it. There were also cobwebs in almost every corner.
“This would make my mom break out in hives,” I lamented.
“It’s actually a nice space,” Clove said after a minute. “It needs a lot of work, though.”
“Don’t forget that whole missing wall in the back either,” Thistle reminded her.
“There’s that, too.”
We wandered back through the dining room, making sure to look everywhere this time as we went. We didn’t want to miss anything this time. That room was empty too, though.
When we got to the kitchen, Thistle immediately headed for the larder and looked inside. “Someone has been here,” she said.
“How do you know?” I walked up behind her.
She pointed to a crate on the ground. “Should we open it?”
I exchanged a wary look with her. “Do you want to?”
“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it?”
I walked back out into the kitchen, hoping to find something to jimmy the lid from the crate. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of anything in the kitchen. I walked back
to the larder. “We should have brought something with us.”
Thistle was trying to pry the lid up with her fingers, grunting from the effort. “We could try a spell,” she said finally.
“What kind of spell?” I asked dubiously.
“An opening spell?” Thistle asked hopefully.
“Like on the front door?”
Thistle shrugged and ran her hand over the crate, muttering the spell as she traced the edges. We all looked at it expectantly, but nothing happened. Thistle tugged on the top of the crate again for good measure, but it remained firmly shut.
“We could do a reverse glamour, to see what is inside,” Clove suggested helpfully.
“There’s a truth inside, let us see, let us see,” Thistle chanted, touching the crate for good effort. “There’s a truth inside, let us see, let us see.”
Nothing.
“We could kick it,” I offered.
Thistle cocked her head and considered it. She stood up and thumped her heavy boot against the crate, slamming it into the wall angrily. Still nothing.
“Well, we can’t get it open,” Clove said nervously. “Let’s go home.”
“We could call Chief Terry,” I said finally.
“Not until we know what is in the crate,” Thistle said firmly.
“We can’t open it without him,” I replied.
“Are you afraid there’s drugs in there?” Clove asked fearfully.
“I’m afraid that if there’s not drugs in here, and we call he police, then it’s going to be really hard to explain to my dad,” Thistle admitted.
She had a point.
“We can come back after the blizzard,” I said finally.
“What if it’s gone by then?” Thistle asked.
“Then we’ll just keep checking.” I didn’t want to push Thistle too far. With the cold sore and all, she was liable to crack.
Clove nodded her silent assent. She just wanted to get out of here. We left the crate where we found it and headed back out of the Dragonfly, making sure to lock the front door when we left this time.
“Well, this was a waste of time,” Clove announced when we were out in the open air. She looked relieved to be out in the open – even with the impending storm heading our way.
Witching You Were Here (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 3) Page 14
