A Witch Before Dying (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 11) Read online

  “We are.” Thistle gestured toward me and herself. “Aunt Tillie is in her own little world.”

  “And proud of it,” Aunt Tillie said. “Now get that door open, Clove. I don’t have all night to waste. I need my beauty sleep.” Aunt Tillie looked Thistle up and down. “And so does your cousin.”

  “You make me want to kick you sometimes,” Thistle muttered.

  “I’m fine with that.”

  After much grumbling, a few kicks and a loud screech when she fell through the window, Clove yanked open the back door from inside and scalded us with her best “I hate you and I’m going to make you pay” look. “I hope you’re happy,” she growled.

  Aunt Tillie used her hip to prod Clove to the side as we entered. “I’m always happy. I’m a genuinely happy person.”

  “And we’re back to Aunt Tillie being loaded again,” Thistle intoned, causing me to snicker.

  “If you want to be loaded, all you have to do is ask.” Aunt Tillie pressed a flask into Thistle’s hand as she presented me with a flashlight. “Find everything we need to find.”

  I made an exaggerated face. “Why me?”

  “Because you’re a reporter and know what we need to look for,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I’ll watch Thistle while you work. It will be fine.”

  Thistle shot me a triumphant look as she belted back a shot of whatever Aunt Tillie had in her flask. On a whim, I grabbed it from her and took a drink – liquid courage never hurts – and then I flicked on the flashlight. The alcohol had quite a kick. I couldn’t identify it, and I sputtered as I tried to swallow.

  The store was in disarray, boxes scattered from one end of the display area to the other. Numerous folders rested on the counter, so that’s where I headed first.

  “Keep an eye on the front window,” I ordered Clove. “If you see any headlights, tell us. We’ll duck. Hopefully this won’t take too long.”

  “You heard her,” Aunt Tillie said, reclaiming her flask from Thistle when Clove turned a complaining look in our great-aunt’s direction. “You’re the lookout.”

  “Just for curiosity’s sake, what is it that you and Thistle are doing this evening?” Clove asked, taking up position by the front window. “Why is it that Bay and I are doing all of the work?”

  “Because in every group there’s only one leader,” Aunt Tillie explained. “I’m your leader.”

  “Oh, puh-leez,” Thistle scoffed. “I’m the leader. You used to be the leader, but you retired.”

  “I haven’t retired. Retirement is for old people.”

  “You are old,” Thistle shot back. “You’re as old as … well … old gets.”

  “I’m in my prime.” Aunt Tillie’s eyes flashed, causing me to watch her for a long moment. If she decided to pick an argument now, things would get out of hand quickly. Someone would definitely hear us, and we’d be in cuffs before we could escape the store.

  “Prime what?” Thistle challenged.

  “Condition,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I’m middle-aged at best.”

  “Oh, are you listening to this?” Thistle grabbed the flask and took a long swig. “She’s delusional. I think that cigar had more than nicotine and tar in it.”

  “It did,” Aunt Tillie confirmed. “It had a bit of magic, too.”

  “I’m guessing magic is code for pot,” I said, focusing on the top file. “That means she can’t drive home. One of us will have to.”

  “I’ve got it.” Thistle took another drink from the flask.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll be the one driving,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes. “This is the purchase agreement for the property.”

  “For the record, no one is driving my truck,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “It’s mine, and you’ll be walking home before I allow that.”

  “You deserve to walk home,” Clove grumbled. “I wish I was home right now. Sam is warm in our bed and I’m stuck here with you people.”

  “Shut up, kvetch,” Aunt Tillie ordered. “What does the purchase agreement say?”

  “It’s … interesting.” I couldn’t think of a better word. “Seymour Walton owned the property and he was pretty far behind on his payments when he decided to sell. Scarlet got this place for a song.”

  “What’s a song?” Clove asked.

  “Twenty grand.”

  “Are you kidding?” Thistle was flummoxed. “If I’d known that was all he was asking I would’ve bought it.”

  “Why do you need another store?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “Because our store isn’t very big and this one is right next door,” Thistle replied. “We could’ve put in a door and turned this into an art gallery.”

  Huh. That actually made sense. “Well, maybe you’ll get lucky,” I said. “We might be able to chase off Scarlet Darksbane. Then you can buy the space and expand.”

  “Definitely,” Aunt Tillie agreed. “Does that purchase agreement give you Scarlet’s real name?”

  “She’s listed as Scarlet Darksbane.” I closed the file. “She might’ve legally changed her name. If so, we’ll probably have to rely on Landon to get us the information.”

  “I don’t want to do that,” Aunt Tillie said. “He’s unbearable when he has information we want.”

  “He’s not unbearable,” I argued, opening the next file. “He’s … cute. He’s also at home … alone … and sleeping without me. I feel a little guilty about leaving him behind.”

  “Does anyone remember when we didn’t have boyfriends to leave behind?” Thistle asked. “It used to be that we could sneak out whenever we wanted and never risk getting in trouble. I miss those days.”

  I snorted. “Whatever. You would cry without Marcus around to rub your feet.”

  “Oh, I would definitely miss him,” Thistle agreed. “It was simply easier when we could break the law without wondering if we were going to get yelled at.”

  She had a point. I scratched my nose as I read the next file. “This is all purchase orders. She’s ordering skull candles and Ouija boards, by the way. I think she’s trying to copy your inventory.”

  “That slut!” Thistle looked to be one shot away from drunk.

  I lobbed a pointed stare at Aunt Tillie. “How much has she had?”

  “A little more than is probably healthy, but she’ll live.” Aunt Tillie wasn’t bothered. “In fact … did you hear that?” Whatever Aunt Tillie was about to say was forgotten as she tilted her head to the side.

  “What do you hear?” Clove asked, her voice going shrill. “Is it the cops? Are we going to be locked up forever?”

  “Get down!” I hissed, motioning with my hand. I’d yet to see or hear anything, but I didn’t want to take chances with my freedom. It was going to be hard enough to explain my actions to Landon. If he had to bail us out of jail first, it would be even harder. “Just … shh.”

  Everyone went silent, Clove hunkering close to the floor near the front window while Thistle and Aunt Tillie hid behind a box.

  “Stop leaning on me,” Aunt Tillie ordered. “You’re drunk.”

  “You’re drunk,” Thistle shot back. “I’m completely on top of things. In fact … whoops.” Thistle toppled to the side, laughing hysterically as she hit the floor. “Okay, maybe I’m drunk.”

  “You’re a pain in the butt is what you are,” Aunt Tillie snapped. “I can’t believe how much of a pain you are.”

  “Really? Because I can’t believe what a pain all of you are.”

  The new voice caused me to swivel, my eyes going wide when I saw the figure in the doorway. I recognized Landon’s voice right away, the tilt of his head signaling his annoyance. He didn’t sound happy.

  “I knew it was the fuzz,” Aunt Tillie complained.

  Landon took a step forward, standing under the emergency light along the back of the wall as he met my gaze. “You’re in so much trouble.”

  Well, the best laid plans … .

  Thirteen

  “‘The Man’ is here. Run for your lives!”

&nbs
p; Aunt Tillie wasted no time scrambling to her feet and trying to push past Landon. For his part, my boyfriend didn’t look at all happy as he snagged her by the back of her shirt and held her at arm’s length.

  “Knock it off,” Landon ordered, his voice weary.

  “Run for your lives!” Aunt Tillie repeated. When none of us did as she ordered, she scorched each of us with a dirty look. “You’re all on my list.”

  “You only wanted us to run so Landon would try to grab us and you could get away,” I shot back. “Don’t bother denying it.”

  “I would never deny it,” Aunt Tillie supplied. “That’s a great plan.”

  “You’ve run that plan on us, like, thirty times,” Clove complained. “We got in trouble each and every time.”

  “That’s why it works,” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “A classic is a classic for a reason.”

  “Shut up,” Landon ordered, his eyes never leaving my face. “So … I woke up expecting to find you in bed with me but guess what happened.”

  “You woke up and found me gone,” I replied without hesitation. “I’m … .”

  “Don’t.” Landon held up a finger to silence me. “If you apologize right now it’ll mean absolutely nothing and only serve to further infuriate me.”

  I pursed my lips, unsure. “Well, then … um … I’m not sorry.”

  It was hard to gauge Landon’s expression given the limited illumination, but I was almost positive he smiled slightly. That couldn’t be right. It had to be a trick of my imagination.

  “None of us are sorry.” Aunt Tillie squirmed as she tried to get away from Landon. He refused to let go of her shirt. “Are you trying to get fresh with me or something? Is that why you’re pulling on my shirt that way? You’ve already seen my boobs during solstice celebrations. I don’t understand why you’re being so shy now.”

  Instead of releasing her, Landon merely lowered his gaze. “I know what you’re doing and it won’t work. I do have a question, though.”

  “Shoot.” Aunt Tillie smiled, clearly trying to placate him.

  “Don’t shoot,” Thistle countered. “I’m too drunk to run and I don’t want to die.”

  Landon shook his head. “How is she already drunk?”

  “Aunt Tillie brought a flask,” I answered, cringing at the expression on his face. “Don’t look at me. I only had one sip.”

  “And I had none because they made me crawl through the window and then act as lookout,” Clove groused.

  “Yeah, good job on that,” Thistle said dryly. “You’re the lookout, and we got caught by the FBI. That’s so much worse than getting caught by the regular cops.”

  She wasn’t wrong, especially in this case. “Landon … .”

  “Shh.” Landon lifted his free hand to his lips. “I need to talk to Aunt Tillie first, Bay. Don’t worry, I’ll get to you.”

  Oh, well, that was comforting. Or not.

  “Tell me why you picked that song,” Landon prodded. “That’s what you did, right? You planted a song in my head.”

  “Kind of,” Aunt Tillie hedged. “It’s a lullaby. It’s supposed to make you want to stay asleep.”

  “Hmm. That means you had this planned. When did you decide you were going to do this?”

  “Before dinner.”

  “Technically, I never wanted to do this, but I’m my own worst enemy at times,” Clove offered. “If they don’t invite me I complain because I hate being left out. If they do invite me I complain because I’m a kvetch. Yeah, I said it. I’m a kvetch, and proud of it.”

  This time I was certain Landon’s lips quirked. He was enjoying himself. That couldn’t be right.

  “Well, Clove, the good news for you is that you’re done here for the night,” Landon said. “I noticed your car is parked about a block down the street. You can go home now.”

  “Really?” Clove visibly brightened. “You’re not going to arrest me?”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Great.” Clove happily blew past me, stopping long enough to shoot Aunt Tillie a haughty look before disappearing through the door. “For once being the kvetch works out.”

  Landon leaned back so he could stare out the door and watch her go. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing. Once Clove’s headlights flashed in the alley, he turned his full attention back to us. “So … where were we?”

  “You made sure she got safely to her car,” I noted.

  Landon arched an eyebrow. “There’s still a killer out there, Bay. Of course I made sure she got to her car. I’d expect someone to do the same for you.”

  “What about me?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  Landon answered without hesitation. “You’re on your own. Any killer would have to be crazy to go up against you.”

  Aunt Tillie beamed. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  Landon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Now, tell me why you picked the song that you did.”

  “Because you’re ‘The Man,’” Aunt Tillie replied simply. “I thought hearing a song about fighting the law and the law winning would make you sleep like the dead.”

  “Well, that backfired,” Landon said. “It made me feel all excitable and manly instead. Guess what happened when I reached for my girlfriend.”

  Aunt Tillie was understandably disgusted when she realized what he meant. “You’re a sick man.”

  “If you’re just figuring that out you’re not nearly as smart as I thought you were.” Landon relaxed his grip and heaved a sigh. “What are you doing here?”

  “It’s a case of mass sleepwalking,” Aunt Tillie answered. “It’s freaky, but nothing to worry about.”

  “Really? You’re all sleepwalking?”

  “And drinking.” Thistle looked around with blurry eyes. “What happened to the flask?”

  “You’re done with the flask,” Landon said.

  “You’re definitely done with the flask,” Aunt Tillie agreed. “I only have one belt left, and that’s for me when it’s time to go to bed. You’re a little lush.”

  “Whatever.” Thistle rolled her neck. “I want to go home. I’m tired. Is Marcus still there? Is he asleep?”

  “He is,” Landon confirmed. “I tried to shake him to find out where you guys had gone, but I couldn’t wake him. Then I heard him humming. I recognized the song as a lullaby and realized what probably happened.”

  “How did you find us?” I asked, finding my voice.

  “It wasn’t that hard,” Landon replied. “You’ve been obsessed with Scarlet Darksbane since she hit town. Where else would you go?”

  “Are you angry?”

  “Angry?” Landon furrowed his brow. “I haven’t decided yet.” He released Aunt Tillie completely. “Take Thistle home. You’re okay to drive, right?”

  Aunt Tillie made a disgusted face. “Of course I’m okay to drive,” she said. “I’m not a drunkard like Little Miss Keg Stand here.”

  “Little Miss Keg Stand.” Thistle snickered as she followed Aunt Tillie to the door. “That was a good one.”

  “Oh, geez. I prefer you so much more when you’re surly with a lot of attitude,” Aunt Tillie complained. “By the way, I’m not stopping completely at the guesthouse. You’ll have to jump out when we get close. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.”

  Thistle mock saluted. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

  Landon watched them go, his arms folded over his chest. When he turned his gaze to me, his expression was hard to read.

  “If it’s any consolation, I knew it was a bad idea from the start,” I offered. “I was against the lullaby, but … you can’t stop Aunt Tillie when she gets an idea in her head.”

  “Really? Are you going to stick with that story?” Landon’s expression was mild.

  “Fine. I didn’t want to do it, but they basically called me a chicken until I did.”

  “Aunt Tillie and Thistle?”

  I nodded.

  “And you’d rather put a spell on me and lie than be called a
chicken?”

  Oh, well, if he was going to look at it that way … . “On a normal day, no. I had to know, though. Scarlet Darksbane is driving me insane. I think that’s what she wants. I need to know more about her.”

  Landon ran his tongue over his teeth as he regarded me. “Did you find anything?”

  The question caught me off guard. “Just that she spent only twenty grand on this building, and Thistle is worked up because if she’d known she could get it so cheaply she would have expanded the store to include an art gallery.”

  “Well, buck up,” Landon drawled. “At the rate you guys are going, you’ll run Scarlet Darksbane out of town within the week and Thistle can have another shot.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  This time there was no doubt. Landon’s smile was reflected in the beam of my flashlight.

  “Come here,” Landon muttered, opening his arms.

  I took a hesitant step in his direction. “Are you going to cuff me to you?”

  “Not right now.”

  I slid into his embrace, sighing as he gave me a brief hug. “Wait … you’re not angry?”

  “I’m not happy, but I should’ve seen this coming,” Landon replied. “You can’t help yourself. When you add Aunt Tillie and Thistle to the mix, you’re susceptible to suggestion.”

  “I think that makes me sound weak,” I complained.

  “You’re not weak. You’re just … excitable.”

  “You’re excitable, too,” I pointed out. “That’s why the lullaby had the opposite effect on you and you woke up expecting action.”

  “Yes, well, you’re going to fight the law later and the law is going to win.”

  Now it was my turn to smile. “You’re really not angry?”

  “I’m not happy, Bay,” Landon cautioned. “But I honestly can’t decide if I’m more upset with you or myself.”

  “Why would you be upset with yourself?”

  “Because I saw it coming and did nothing to stop it,” Landon replied. “You can’t help yourself. It’s in your blood.”

  “So … we’re good?”

  Landon shook his head. “You’re going to owe me a freaking long massage and I’m going to make you rub yourself in bacon grease before you do it.”