A Witch of a Time

by Amanda M. Lee

That did it. “You can’t tell her things like that,” I said. “You’re going to warp her.”

  “I’m not going to warp her,” Aunt Tillie said. “Basil, am I warping you?”

  Aunt Tillie likes to change people’s names, and Annie was no exception. Even after finding out the girl’s real moniker, Aunt Tillie continued with the one she’d christened her with when she wasn’t talking in the initial hours after her discovery.

  “She’s not warping me,” Annie said. “She’s molding me in the image of the niece she always wanted.”

  Bay balked. “Hey! What about me?”

  “You’re as good as you’re ever going to get,” Annie said. “You’re not bad, but you’re not perfect. I’m perfect.”

  Bay’s face softened and she patted her lap. “Annie, will you come here please?”

  Annie acquiesced, climbing up on Bay’s lap and fixing her expressive green eyes on her. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Bay shot a look at Aunt Tillie. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bay said. “You should know that everything Aunt Tillie tells you isn’t necessarily the truth.”

  I snorted, earning a glare from Aunt Tillie.

  “I am not a liar,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “No, but you have a skewed perspective and you shouldn’t be forcing Annie to think as you do,” Bay said, keeping her voice even. “I know you love Annie, but do you really want her to grow up believing everything you say is the truth?”

  “Everything I say is the truth,” Aunt Tillie replied. “If you had listened to me when you were her age, how much better would your life have been?”

  “I happen to like the life I have right now very much,” Bay said, smiling at me. “You helped me a lot when I was a kid, but you also knew when to back off and let us figure out stuff on our own. You don’t seem to be doing that with Annie.”

  “I’m her apprentice,” Annie said. “I’m helping her with the planting … and the oregano field.”

  The oregano field? Now I really wanted to throttle Aunt Tillie. “That’s not oregano.”

  “What is it?” Annie’s eyes were wide, and I realized I couldn’t tell her the truth.

  “It’s … .”

  “Oregano,” Aunt Tillie said, her tone clipped. “Don’t you even think of telling her otherwise.”

  “It’s oregano,” I said. “You need to stop going out there with her, though.”

  “But that’s my job,” Annie said, her eyes filling with tears. “I like to help.”

  Great. How did I become the bad guy in all of this? “You can help her in the greenhouse,” I said. “You can help her up by the inn. You just can’t go to the oregano field.” I fixed my attention on Aunt Tillie. “You need to work with me here. I can only put up with so much, and you know what you’re doing out in that field is wrong for a little girl to be mixed up in.”

  Aunt Tillie sighed. “Fine. Basil, you can’t go to the field. We’ll spend more time in the greenhouse.”

  “But what about Marcus?” Annie asked. “He’s never in the greenhouse. He’s always in the field. How will I ever see him again?”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to be able to help Marcus with his own project in a few weeks,” I said, realizing too late that I’d tipped my hand and was on the verge of revealing Marcus’ secret.

  “What project?” Bay asked, suspicious.

  Crap. “I … .”

  Aunt Tillie smelled blood in the water and began to circle. “Is Marcus going to be cultivating his own … oregano?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “I knew it! He’s stealing my secret blend.”

  “He’s not stealing your secret blend,” I snapped, rubbing the back of my neck. It’s too bad I can’t travel back in time. I’d like to take the bulk of this conversation back. “I can’t believe I opened my big mouth. I gossip like a woman. I swear.” I turned on Bay. “You’ve totally corrupted me.”

  “Just tell us what’s going on,” Bay said, calmly. “If you don’t, our minds will run wild and then we’ll let something slip to Thistle and this whole thing will blow up.”

  I considered the offer for a moment. I knew she was right. The smart thing to do now was tell the truth. “You have to swear not to tell anyone.” Isn’t that how all true gossipers start a sentence? I’ve sunk so low.

  “I swear,” Bay said, pressing her hand to her heart. From her lap, Annie nodded with big eyes and mimed crossing her heart.

  I turned to Aunt Tillie.

  “I swear,” she said. “Unless he’s stealing my blend. Then I’m going to blow his ass … I mean butt … sky high.” She glanced at Annie. “I didn’t say the A-word.”

  Annie ran her fingers over her lips, imitating a zipper closing.

  I sighed. “Marcus is going to expand his business at the stable,” I said. “He’s going to till the field behind it and sell the vegetables. No oregano, just vegetables. He’s also going to open a petting zoo.”

  I cut off my story there. I would never betray his trust on the proposal, and there was no way Bay could keep that to herself. I could only hope they’d focus on the business expansion and not realize I was holding something back.

  “That’s a great idea,” Bay said, excited. “Why isn’t he telling anyone?”

  “He wants to surprise Thistle,” I said. “He’s worried she’ll be upset because it will take up a lot of his time.”

  “That’s nonsense,” Aunt Tillie said. “Thistle will be the first to volunteer to help. We all will. I agree with Bay. That’s a great idea. He’s clearly thinking. Now I know why he’s been so fixated on asking me about root cuttings and irrigation systems. I’m proud of him.”

  The sentiment took me off guard. “You are?”

  “He’s a good boy,” Aunt Tillie said. “He’s good for Thistle. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. He’ll be surprised when he tells Thistle. She’s going to be excited about it, and she’s going to want to help. Heck, she could make a few sculptures for the petting zoo. I’ll bet she’ll enjoy that.”

  Every time I think Aunt Tillie can’t throw me she proves me wrong. She’s mean and nasty and cold when she wants to be. She’s also loyal, loving and delightful when the mood strikes. She’s a true enigma.

  She’s still a pain in the ass.

  “Thank you for not telling anyone,” I said. “It’s important for Marcus to be able to tell Thistle himself.”

  “Is he going to have goats?” Annie asked.

  “Where?”

  “At the petting zoo,” Annie said. “I love goats.”

  Bay smiled and smoothed Annie’s flyaway hair. “I’m sure he will,” she said. “We can ask him when he’s ready.”

  “How about ducks?”

  “Oh, ducks are a must,” Bay said. “I’ll bet he lets us feed them.”

  “What about unicorns?”

  Bay pursed her lips, unsure. I decided to answer for her. “Unicorns are very rare,” I said. “It’s illegal to put them in petting zoos.”

  “That’s a bummer,” Annie said. “Maybe we can get a unicorn for the greenhouse?”

  “No four-footed friends in the greenhouse,” Aunt Tillie said. “They make a mess.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  Bay frowned. “Who taught you to say that? Did Aunt Tillie teach you that?”

  Annie shook her head. “I heard it from you.”

  “Oh.” Bay faltered. “Well, I shouldn’t say that. Don’t say that again.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing Bay with Annie, even though the girl gravitated more toward Aunt Tillie and Thistle, made me smile. “None of us should say it again,” I said. “In fact … .”

  I broke off when I saw Bay’s attention drift to the spot behind Aunt Tillie. I had a feeling I knew what she was looking at.

  “Um, Annie, why don’t we go inside and get some lemonade?” I offered, extending my hand to the girl.

  “Why?” Annie asked.

  “Aren’t you thirsty?” I didn’t want to frighten her,
and the idea that a ghost was there – even if she couldn’t see it – would do just that.

  Annie shook her head.

  “How about a cookie then?”

  “Why are you trying to bribe her?” Aunt Tillie asked, risking a glance over her shoulder. She frowned when she focused on … something. I was guessing she could see Peg floating a few feet away. “Oh. Well, great. I guess this is the development you guys were talking about earlier. The spell worked after all.”

  I shot her a look. “We shouldn’t be talking about that now,” I said. “Come on, Annie. Let’s get some cookies.”

  Annie scrunched up her face. “I don’t want cookies,” she said. “I want to see what the floating lady has to say.”

  And here I was thinking things couldn’t get more complicated. I was obviously wrong. There’s never a dull moment in Hemlock Cove – and this day had just tipped into overdrive.

  Ten

  “You can see a floating lady?” Bay asked carefully. “Where?”

  Annie pointed to the spot behind Aunt Tillie. “She has red hair and she looks sad.”

  I grabbed Annie from Bay’s lap and lifted her. “We’re going inside.”

  “But I want to talk to the floating lady,” Annie complained. “I don’t want cookies.”

  “You’ll live,” I said, carrying Annie into the inn even though she wriggled wildly. “It’s better this way.”

  I dropped Annie in the kitchen, putting her hand securely in Marnie’s before turning to leave.

  “What’s going on?” Winnie asked.

  “We have something to deal with on the back patio,” I said.

  “Oh.” Winnie obviously understood.

  “It’s a floating lady,” Annie said. “They don’t want me to talk about her or see her, but I know she was there.”

  Winnie pursed her lips. “We’ll talk about the floating lady,” she said. “We can do it with cookies and lemonade.”

  “I want to see her,” Annie said, jutting out her lower lip. “She was … sparkly.”

  I glanced at Winnie. “Can you handle this?”

  Winnie smirked. “This isn’t the first sparkly lady a child has told me about,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Of course she’d be the best person to deal with this situation. “You might want to talk to her mother, too.”

  “She’s upstairs cleaning rooms right now,” Winnie said. “I can handle that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go help Bay,” Winnie said. “Find Peg’s body. Bring her home.”

  I mock saluted, although part of the gesture was heartfelt. “We’ll keep in touch.”

  “WHERE are we?” I asked, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

  “Do you see those trees?” Aunt Tillie asked, pointing.

  I nodded.

  “We’re in the woods.”

  “Now I know why you drive Bay and Thistle batshit crazy,” I said. “I think it’s in your DNA.”

  “And just think,” Aunt Tillie said, “Bay is going to end up just like me.”

  That was a sobering thought.

  Bay patted my arm to reassure me. “I’ll probably be more like my mother than Aunt Tillie.”

  I wasn’t sure that was a better outcome. “It’s fine,” I said. “I just … are we sure we know where we’re going?”

  After twenty minutes of prodding, Bay finally managed to get Peg to talk. Her answers were vague, though, and she seemed tortured by her new reality. Finally, Bay told her she could cross back over as soon as she revealed the site of her body. If Bay’s description was to be believed, Peg seemed happy with the offer.

  So, after a brief drive to her old house, I followed an elderly woman in a ridiculous gardening hat and her reticent niece into the woods. They, in turn, followed a dead woman I couldn’t see. I wanted to complain, but it was impossible. It wasn’t as if this was the first time this had happened. How sad is that?

  “I won’t let you get lost,” Bay said.

  I knew she wasn’t talking down to me, but it still felt like it. “Great.”

  “And I won’t let Bigfoot get you,” Aunt Tillie added.

  “What?”

  “I heard you’re afraid of the woods,” Aunt Tillie said. “Don’t worry. I won’t let Bigfoot get you.”

  “Bigfoot isn’t real,” I said.

  “That’s what people said about Santa Claus,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “He’s not real either.”

  “That must be why you get so few presents at Christmas,” Aunt Tillie mused.

  I moved to the other side of Bay, putting her between Aunt Tillie and me in case my hands slipped and closed around her throat before I could stop myself. “You know I love you, right?”

  Bay nodded, watching her footing as she navigated around a large rock. “I love you, too.”

  “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I’m going to kill Aunt Tillie,” I said. “When it happens – and it will happen – I want you to know I still love you.”

  Bay smiled, not worried in the least. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “We’re finally getting somewhere. You’ll be able to sleep tonight.”

  “I slept last night,” I said. Of course, the chocolate martinis helped.

  “When you get a case, you dream about it,” Bay said. “You toss and turn. You didn’t last night. Well, you might have. I was passed out so I didn’t notice. You tossed and turned the night before, though.”

  I felt bad. “Did I keep you up?”

  “I sleep like a rock. You know that. I just … feel … when you’re restless.”

  Was that a witch thing? “You feel it?”

  Bay nodded. “I feel your heart when you’re sleeping,” she said. “Most of the time it’s peaceful. When something is bothering you, though, I feel that, too.”

  “Because you’re a witch?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Well, she was officially charming again. I shook off my melancholy, making a mental note to reward her with something truly great when we were done with this case. “Is Peg saying anything?”

  “She’s said a few things.”

  “And?”

  “I … I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

  Bay’s face was red from the hike, but her eyes were misted with something else. I think it was regret. “I just want to know the truth.”

  “She wasn’t murdered,” Bay said. “She doesn’t remember a lot about that time in her life. She says it’s … hard to focus. She remembers going for a walk, though. She also remembers falling and hurting her ankle. She slid down a ravine, and she couldn’t get back up. After about forty-eight hours, she lost consciousness. She never woke up.”

  “Are you saying it was an accident?”

  Bay nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  Was she really apologizing for solving my case? “Why are you sorry?”

  “Because you were convinced she was murdered,” Bay said, holding a branch back so I could move ahead of her. “You don’t like to be wrong.”

  I barked out a coarse laugh. “You’re right. I don’t like to be wrong. Do you want to know the truth, though?”

  “I always want to know the truth.”

  “I’ve been wrong so many times in my life I can’t even count them,” I said. “I was wrong when I said that Nickelback was a good band.”

  “We were all wrong about that,” Bay said. “That first single misled us all.”

  I smiled. She was giving me an out. I wasn’t going to take it, though. “I was wrong when I thought you were up to no good in the corn maze. I was wrong when I thought you were rude. I was wrong when I found out what you were and I left. That was the most wrong I’ve ever been.”

  Bay nodded, as though it was the most normal thing ever, but I could tell she was on the verge of tears.

  “Do you want to know what I was right about?” I asked, not waiting for an answer. “I was right the first time I saw you and thought t
here was something … otherworldly about you. I knew when I saw you that you were going to amaze me.

  “I was right when I had faith that you were a good person,” I continued. “I was right when I followed my instincts and believed you, even though my head told me what I was seeing couldn’t possibly be real. I was also right when I told you I loved you, although I should have told you sooner – and under better circumstances.”

  “You can’t pick your life,” Bay said. “You can only decide how you want to live it.”

  “I’m happy with the way I’m living mine,” I said, grabbing her hand.

  “Are you sure? I’m a lot of work … and my family is even more.”

  “You’re worth the work, and your family is worth the work,” I said. “You’re fun and beautiful and you make me smile. I don’t think there’s anything more important than that.”

  “You make me laugh, too,” Bay said.

  “Don’t forget to tell me how handsome I am,” I said.

  “You’re very handsome.”

  “Oh, you two make me want to puke,” Aunt Tillie said.

  Despite her tone, I was happy she chimed in when she did. If Bay started crying now, we’d never find Peg’s body. I was ready to put this case to rest and salvage a few hours alone with a blonde witch and her bright smile. “I make myself want to puke a little,” I admitted.

  “You’re cute,” Aunt Tillie said, her voice soft. “You remind me of … my Calvin.”

  Aunt Tillie often talked about her late husband, and always with reverence and respect. That was probably the best compliment she could ever give me. “Thank you.”

  “You’re still a pain.”

  “So are you,” I said.

  Bay let go of my hand and rushed forward, peering over the edge of a ravine and scanning the area below. “We’re here.”

  I followed her, studying the heavy underbrush dubiously. “Are you sure? That’s going to take forever to search. We should have brought help, although I have no idea how I would have explained calling them in without finding the body first.”

  Bay pointed to a glint on the ground, and when I focused, I realized what she pointed at. It was a skeletal hand – the rest of the body hidden by a big bush – a wedding ring still on the third finger. We’d officially found Peg Mulder.