Life's a Witch Read online

  “That’s because they hadn’t invented knives yet,” Thistle said dryly, fingering her own knife. “Now you’d probably be lucky if someone didn’t drop you in the creek.”

  “Thistle!” Mom scorched my cousin with a dark look.

  Thistle rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here with my quaint dinner … and my quaint murder fantasies.”

  “Don’t make me come over there,” Mom warned.

  “What are the police doing about this?” Aunt Willa asked, turning to Landon.

  “We’re investigating,” Landon replied, stabbing a piece of chicken and tossing it in his mouth.

  “It’s very early in the investigation,” I explained. “They have to talk to people before they can magically solve the case.”

  “I know who did it,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “If you say it was zombies I’ll strangle you,” I threatened.

  “Of course it wasn’t zombies,” Aunt Tillie scoffed. “Have you listened to one thing I said? It can’t be zombies. He wasn’t bitten.”

  “Who do you think it was?” Mom asked, fear flitting across her face.

  “I think it was another teenager,” Aunt Tillie replied. “They’re always hanging around down at Hollow Creek.”

  “Well, that narrows the suspect pool to about four hundred kids,” I muttered.

  “When did you come up with this epiphany?” Landon challenged, swiveling to face Aunt Tillie. “Was it before or after you had Annie help you with your … gardening?”

  “I thought people weren’t allowed in the greenhouse,” Aunt Willa interjected. “If a child can see it, surely I can see it.”

  “We weren’t in the greenhouse,” Annie said from her spot between Thistle and Belinda. “We were in the oregano field.”

  “Oregano?” Aunt Willa furrowed her brow. “I didn’t know you had an oregano field.”

  “That’s because it’s not oregano,” Thistle offered.

  “You know what, Annie? I think now would be a good time to take you into the kitchen to finish your dinner,” Belinda said, grabbing Annie’s plate and motioning for the girl to follow.

  “I don’t want to eat in there,” Annie complained. “Marcus and Aunt Tillie are out here … and Aunt Tillie said I have to be nice to Landon because I’ve been being mean to him. She says he’s going to cry if I’m not careful.”

  Landon scowled. “I am not going to cry.”

  “I may cry,” I offered. Everyone ignored me.

  “Why would you need a whole field of oregano?” Aunt Willa asked. “Are you opening a pizza parlor? Is that your next great business adventure?”

  “Shut up, Willa,” Aunt Tillie ordered. “You’re being a pain in the ass.”

  “Don’t talk to me that way, Tillie,” Aunt Willa demanded. “You’re being a … horrible person.”

  “You always were quick with a comeback,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned.

  “I told you not to take Annie out to that field with you,” Landon said. He bordered on the verge of screaming. I could feel it.

  “You’re not the boss of me,” Aunt Tillie sniffed.

  “What’s the big deal with oregano?” Rosemary asked. “Is it some cash crop no one is supposed to know about? Is everyone dying to try oregano around here?”

  “Only if they want the munchies,” Thistle replied, causing several of the guests to snicker as they realized what she was talking about.

  “I’m not supposed to touch the oregano because it will make me sick,” Annie announced, reminding everyone she was still in the room. “I have to wear gloves and never eat any brownies Aunt Tillie bakes. I took an oath.”

  Thistle burst out laughing as Clove bit her bottom lip. Marcus and Sam stared at their plates while the guests chortled. My mother looked as though she was about to commit a murder – although I had no idea whether Aunt Tillie or Thistle was the intended victim. Marnie and Twila fixated on the wall on the opposite side of the table. And Aunt Willa? Well, it took her a little bit, but she finally realized what everyone was referring to.

  “Omigod! Are you growing pot on the family property? That’s illegal!”

  “Why don’t you say it a little louder,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned. “I don’t think the county cops can hear you until you hit the register that dogs can pick up.”

  “I’m really pissed off,” Landon said, his eyes still fixed on Aunt Tillie. “I asked you to do one thing. One stinking thing. You can’t even do that.”

  “Is Landon going to kill Aunt Tillie?” Annie asked Marcus.

  “I have no idea,” Marcus replied, tapping the edge of her plate as Belinda returned it to the table. It was too late to head off an argument. Even though Belinda was new to our family ways, she’d picked that little tidbit up early. “Eat your dinner.”

  “I don’t want Aunt Tillie to die,” Annie sniffed.

  “Aunt Tillie will never die,” Thistle supplied. “Evil never dies. Don’t worry about that.”

  “You’re on my list, missy,” Aunt Tillie warned, wagging her finger to get Thistle’s attention. “You’ve been off for two straight weeks. How does it feel to be back on my list?”

  “It feels like I need some oregano,” Thistle replied, causing every guest at the table – check that, every guest we weren’t related to – to chuckle.

  “This is the best dinner scene yet,” one of the guests whispered.

  “You know what? I’m going to arrest you,” Landon said. “Yeah, I said it. I’m going to arrest you and charge you with manufacturing pot. Now you’re on my list. How do you like that?”

  “You have no proof of anything,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I already promised Bay that I would stop taking Annie there. What more do you want from me?”

  “I want you to stop growing pot!” Landon exploded.

  “It’s oregano,” Annie corrected. “You plant things in a pot. You don’t plant the pot.”

  I rubbed my forehead worriedly. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

  “Not yet,” Landon said, refusing to back down as Aunt Tillie tried to stare a hole through him. “You listen to me. You’d better hope I don’t find that field. If I do, I’ll burn it. Do you understand me?”

  “I think you’re getting too big for your britches.”

  “Oh, stuff it,” Landon muttered, grabbing my hand. “Come on. I don’t care if we have to eat toaster crumbs. I can’t take another second of this.”

  I hurried to keep up with him, my heart flopping as we scampered through the house. “Are you okay?” I asked as we neared the back door. “Are you going to yell at me now?”

  Landon turned quickly, but instead of the ire I expected his eyes sparkled. “I feel so much better now that I yelled at her,” he said. “Come on. I’ll take you to town for dinner.”

  I stilled, surprised. “That’s it?”

  “I think it’s this family,” Landon admitted. “I don’t feel normal now until I yell at someone. I can’t yell at you. I can yell at Aunt Tillie and not worry about hurting her feelings. Man, it’s as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”

  “I … are you sure?”

  “Come on,” Landon said, tugging on my hand. “If you’re good, I’ll buy you ice cream after dinner.”

  I’m pretty sure we’ve been a bad influence on him.

  Fourteen

  “What are you going to do today?” I asked Landon the next morning as he dropped me in front of The Whistler. Instead of braving breakfast at the inn, we drove into town early to eat at the diner. He was still in a good mood, although I couldn’t fathom how we’d managed to completely corrupt him in such a short amount of time.

  “Ask questions, investigate … you know, the usual stuff,” Landon replied. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to get some stuff ready for our festival spread,” I said. “I also have to figure out where we’re going to put Nathaniel’s story in this week’s paper. We don’t go to print until Thursday for Friday, but Brian hates
it when murder and festivals overlap.”

  Landon snickered. “Well, he’s a tool. How are you going to get back out to the inn? I’m not sure what time I’ll be done today.”

  “Thistle and Clove are working. I can catch a ride with them.”

  “Are you going to investigate Nathaniel’s case?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “If something comes up I won’t ignore it. I wasn’t planning to get involved, though. If his ghost was hanging around, that would be a different story. So far, that doesn’t seem to be the case. I’m not sure what help I’d be.”

  “I think you sell yourself short sometimes,” Landon said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You always manage to help.”

  “I think you’re being awfully charming this morning.”

  “I’m charming every morning,” Landon countered. “You’re the crabby one in the morning.”

  “You’re crabby in the morning, too.”

  “Fine,” Landon conceded. “I wasn’t crabby this morning, though.”

  “No, you were grabby,” I teased.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He leaned in and planted a smoldering kiss on my lips. “What do you want to do about dinner tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Why don’t we decide that when we’re sure about your schedule?”

  “I can live with that,” Landon said. “I’ll text you when I know what’s going on.”

  I moved to climb out of his truck, but he grabbed my arm to still me. “Is something wrong? Are you finally going to yell at me?”

  Landon blew out an exasperated sigh. “I need you to do something for me, Bay.”

  “What? You’ve probably earned whatever favor you’re about to ask for.”

  “I have earned it,” Landon agreed. “I need you to stop worrying that I’m going to storm out of the inn and you’re never going to see me again.”

  “I … what?” My voice sounded squeaky.

  “Sweetie, you’re terrified that I’m going to take off one day after an argument,” Landon said, choosing his words carefully. “I see it on your face, and I don’t like it. I know I’ve earned some of this because of the way I left when you told me about being a witch. I was confused then. I didn’t know what to do.

  “I accept who you are and what you can do,” he continued. “I’m not going to leave after a fight. I promise. You can fight with me without fear of that.”

  “I … .”

  Landon shushed me with a look. “I’m not done,” he said. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. I need you to believe that. That’s what I need you to do for me.”

  I pursed my lips, my mind rolling. He was getting better and better about expressing his feelings. I felt guilty for thinking the worst of him. “In my head I know you’re not going to leave,” I explained. “My heart worries because it can’t help itself. Part of me still wonders why you’d put up with the craziness that surrounds my family.”

  “Your family is part of the package, and you’re the package I want,” Landon replied. “Believe it or not, no matter how crazy they are, I love your family, too.”

  “You love Thistle and Aunt Tillie?” I was understandably dubious.

  “I love you,” Landon said. “I do love them, too. It’s in a different way … and there are times I want to smack them both silly … but that’s how a family works. I like the craziness of your family. Even when I don’t like it, I still kind of like it. So, please, stop worrying about stuff that’s never going to happen. Will you do that for me?”

  I nodded, and Landon leaned over to kiss me again, holding me close for a second.

  “I love you, too,” I murmured.

  “Of course you do,” Landon said, his smile mischievous when he pulled away. “I’m handsome and I’m a catch.”

  “And modest, too,” I said, reaching for the door handle. “I … oh, crap. What is he doing here?”

  Landon followed my gaze, scowling when his eyes landed on my father. He was at the other end of the lot, leaning against his car as he watched us. Landon killed the engine and pocketed his keys, opening his door and hopping out before I realized it.

  “You’re not going to yell at him, are you?” I asked, hurrying around the front of his truck.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Landon replied. “If fighting with Aunt Tillie made me feel better, just think what fighting with your father will do for my happiness.”

  “What do you think he wants?” I asked, falling into step with Landon as we closed the distance.

  “He probably wants to make up with you. If he wants something else, though, I’m ready to fight.”

  That didn’t make me feel better. Still, I plastered a smile on my face as we approached. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Bay,” Dad replied, pushing away from his car. “Landon. How are you guys?”

  “We’re good,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “Did you need something?”

  “I came to talk to you,” Dad said, his eyes flashing momentarily as they bounced to Landon before returning to me. “I wanted to apologize for what happened at the Dragonfly. I might have overreacted.”

  My relationship with my father is one of those tricky issues I can’t seem to reconcile. After separating from my mother when I was a kid, he left for the southern part of the state. We spoke sporadically by phone and visited occasionally, but he was uncomfortable with my family and the witchiness surrounding it.

  When he and my uncles returned to town to start their own competing inn, things got tense. Everyone tried to find common footing, but Aunt Tillie constantly worked against them, and she had no problem bringing magic into the mix when it fit her plans.

  A few weeks earlier we conducted a locator spell to find a robber who murdered a bank teller. It led to the Dragonfly. As part of our investigation, we cast a truth spell that caused a lot of old wounds to be ripped open. When Dad found out we cast a spell on his guests he was angry – and rightfully so – and he’d kept his distance since.

  I was used to fighting with family. That’s the way of the world in the Winchester household. When we fight, though, we’re forced to make up due to proximity. I hadn’t seen my father – other than a brief public encounter – in almost three weeks.

  “We shouldn’t have cast a spell on your guests,” I offered, hoping I sounded conciliatory. “We should’ve at least asked you before we did it.”

  “That would’ve been nice.”

  “If it’s any consolation, we were hoping to do it without you knowing,” I admitted.

  Dad made a face. “That makes it worse, Bay,” he said. “We’re trying to build a family here. It’s not the family you’re used to, but we would still like this to work. I said some unkind things when you were at the inn. I’d like to make it up to you.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, we were hoping to have a family dinner tonight,” Dad replied. “Our group is leaving early this afternoon, so we’ll have the dining room to ourselves. Warren and Teddy are at Hypnotic now, inviting your cousins. I’m not sure you’ll all be up for it, but … .”

  “We’re in,” Landon interjected, cutting him off.

  Dad was surprised. “You are? Just like that?”

  “We’re in,” I agreed, mentally rubbing my hands together because we’d been handed a ready-made excuse to get out of another excruciating meal with Aunt Willa and Rosemary. “We want everyone to make up, too.”

  “See, this worries me,” Dad admitted. “Usually we have to trick you … or browbeat you … or outright guilt you to get you out to the Dragonfly. Why are you giving in so easily?”

  “Because I’m really looking forward to it,” I lied.

  “Okay.” Dad didn’t look convinced. “Can you be there at seven?”

  “We’re thrilled to accept your invitation,” Landon said.

  I WAS pondering my brief conversation with Dad in the front of the office an hour later – Edith nattering on at my side about the horrible death a
nd how things like that only happen now because people slip meth in drinking water – when the bell over the front door jangled.

  “I’m sorry. We’re not open for business today,” I called over my shoulder, not turning around. “If you need to place an ad, someone will be in tomorrow.”

  “I’m here to see where you work.”

  I froze when I heard the voice, my stomach inadvertently flipping. I forced a smile as I turned, fixing Rosemary with what I hoped was a welcoming look and swallowed hard before speaking. “I … how did you know I was here?”

  “Well, Grandma insisted on seeing the guesthouse because she was dying to know where you guys hide out all the time,” Rosemary answered. “When we went down there, though, it was empty. Well, except for the mess.”

  I racked my brain, trying to remember what state we left the guesthouse in. Clove spent the night with Sam at the Dandridge, but the rest of us drowned our family sorrows with chocolate martinis. I was pretty sure we hadn’t even bothered to throw the empty bottles in the trash can.

  “We’re not big on cleaning,” I said.

  “Perhaps you should get a maid.”

  I made a face, forcing my attention to remain on Rosemary even as Edith circled her with intent eyes. “Is this Willa’s granddaughter?”

  There was no way I could answer without making Rosemary think I was even more batshit crazy than she already did. “Is there something you’re looking for, Rosemary?”

  “I only wanted to see where you work,” Rosemary replied, moving through the front office. “It’s not very large, is it?”

  “It’s big enough for what we have to do.”

  “After working for a real newspaper down south, it must’ve been disappointing to have to come back up here because you couldn’t hack it in the real world.”

  “She’s definitely related to Willa,” Edith said.

  “I came back home because I love the area,” I said. “I happen to enjoy working at The Whistler.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Rosemary said. “What’s not to love about living on your family’s property?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t you live with your grandmother?”