Make A Witch Read online

  “You never considered what from Landon’s point of view before?” Thistle asked, breezing into the room. “By the way, you can scratch Mavis Dinklage off your list. She no longer lives in a mansion in the middle of Lilac Street – a mansion that actually smooshed some of her neighbors’ homes, by the way.”

  “Did we even know about that?” I asked, trying to picture the scenario in my head.

  “We noticed it on our way to Tabitha Greenwald’s house,” Thistle replied. “We figured we might as well handle it while we were there. Tabitha Greenwald is no longer the proud owner of her own pony either. That wish was kind of cute until we saw the huge piles of poop in her front yard.”

  “Isn’t Tabitha Greenwald fifty?” Mom asked, confused.

  Thistle nodded. “Apparently she’s been making the same wish since she was a child and thought nothing of it when the pony appeared in her front yard. She ran over to the stables and got some hay, thinking it was a grand gift.”

  “Oh, well, that’s too bad,” Mom sniffed. “She can always go to the stable and ride there, so she’ll get over it.”

  “That’s what Marcus told her,” Thistle supplied. “They’re over there right now so she can meet the horses.”

  “So it’s a good day for everyone,” Twila said brightly.

  “Except for Bay and her eye, Landon with his ‘people think I’m beating my girlfriend’ complex, Aunt Tillie with her rampant guilt and Deidre with her ‘I killed my husband and now I have to report him for being a woman beater’ issues,” Thistle said dryly.

  “You’re on my list,” Aunt Tillie barked.

  “You don’t have a list until you fix this,” Mom fired back. “I don’t want to hear you speak again until you have a solution to this problem. Until then, missy, you’re gagged.”

  Thistle’s mouth dropped open. She looked like a kid seeing the gifts under the tree for the first time on Christmas morning. I was much more subdued, hiding my smile behind my mug of coffee. Aunt Tillie would be on a rampage when this was all said and done, and I would rather have her cursing fingers pointed at Thistle instead of me.

  “Anyway, Landon said he might be late getting back if Deidre falls off the rails and decides not to press charges,” I said. “He wants to make sure that doesn’t happen. He was really good with her. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

  “I wonder why,” Mom mused. “His mother obviously isn’t being beaten. People who have empathy for that sort of thing usually witness it at some point in their lives.”

  That was an interesting thing to say, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a grain of truth in it somewhere. I made a mental note to revisit the topic when Landon and I had a few moments alone.

  “Our biggest problem is that we have no way of knowing who made wishes or how dangerous they are,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Mrs. Little made a wish. I know she tossed in a coin. I guess it could’ve been for show, but I’m guessing she wished for something evil, because … well … we’re talking about Mrs. Little.”

  “Yes, she’s a piece of work,” Aunt Tillie muttered. “I’ll bet she wished for something like being queen for a day. That sounds just like her.”

  “It sounds like you, too,” Mom snapped. “Do your work!”

  Aunt Tillie made a big show of shaking her head as she mouthed “do your work” and puffed out her chest. It was obviously supposed to be an imitation of my mother, but either Mom didn’t notice or opted to ignore it.

  “Why didn’t anybody wish for world peace?” Twila lamented. “I’d think that’s the first thing people would wish for. I know that’s what I’d wish for.”

  “That’s because you’re a pure soul.” Thistle patted her mother’s head. They were kind words, but the tone was off.

  “What would you wish for?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “I’d wish for a boat,” Aunt Tillie volunteered. “I’d use it to sail away from you people … and fight pirates. Nobody likes pirates.”

  “Don’t make me come over there,” Mom threatened, brandishing a wooden spoon.

  “Make her go over there, Aunt Tillie,” Thistle prodded, amused. “I’m dying to see what happens.”

  “You’re going to regret ever meeting me once this is over,” Aunt Tillie gritted out, focusing on her book. “I won’t forget one second of this.”

  Thistle didn’t look particularly perturbed by the threat. “I’d wish for a huge craft store all to myself, where I could make the crafts and force Clove to deal with the customers.”

  I snorted, amused. “What about you, Mom?”

  “A bigger kitchen and the ability to feed everyone in the world,” Mom replied, not missing a beat.

  “Landon would wish for a world made of bacon,” I mused. “What about you, Marnie?”

  Marnie was apparently feeling snarky, because she merely shrugged. “I’d wish for one less sister. I’ll let you decide what I mean by that, Twila and Winnie.”

  Mom made a face but didn’t rise to the bait. “What about you, Bay? What would you wish for?”

  It was a good question, and I’d been thinking about it between bouts of wish reversals for the better part of the day. “There’s honestly nothing I want,” I said. “I mean, there are little things I want, don’t get me wrong. I could wish for a pair of boots or something. I have all of the big things I want, though.”

  Mom smiled. “You wouldn’t wish for more big city news?”

  “I tried living in the city,” I reminded her. “I wanted to be back here the entire time.”

  “Yes, but you spent your entire childhood wanting to live somewhere else,” Mom reminded me. “What happened to that wish?”

  “It came true, and then I realized I made the wrong wish,” I answered, jerking my head toward the back door when I heard someone knock. “Who would go to the back door?”

  “I have no idea,” Mom replied. “Can you check? I can’t risk leaving Aunt Tillie, because if she flees from this room we’ll never see her again. We caught her trying to climb out the bathroom window an hour ago and had to beat a pillow against her head to get her back inside.”

  “And I missed that?” Thistle was horrified. “Why do I always miss stuff like that?”

  I smirked as I wandered through the kitchen and into the family living quarters. I heard Thistle complaining as she trailed behind me, which meant she was curious, too. No matter whom I expected on the other side of the door, it wasn’t the face that popped into view when I opened it.

  “Lila?”

  That wasn’t possible. Lila Stevens was in jail. She was serving several years behind bars for working with a former classmate of ours when he decided to rob people – and tried to kill a few more – several months ago. I heard through the grapevine that she pleaded guilty in exchange for a reduced sentence. Even with time served she couldn’t be out of jail this quickly.

  “Hello, Bay,” Lila sneered, her lip curling.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to pay you back!”

  I saw Lila’s fist moving toward my face, as if in slow motion, and instinctively ducked. The sick crunching sound I heard emanated from Thistle as Lila hit her as hard as she could.

  “Oomph.” Thistle grabbed her nose as she wobbled backward, falling over the arm of the chair and hitting the ground hard.

  “Omigod!” I screeched, dumbfounded. “Do you know what you just did?”

  “I won,” Lila replied triumphantly.

  “Not quite.” I moved to my left to give Thistle a clear shot as she regrouped and launched herself at Lila. Lila realized her mistake too late. Thistle was already airborne, and she meant business.

  “It was a mistake,” Lila screeched.

  “I’ll show you a mistake,” Thistle bellowed.

  “DOES SOMEONE want to tell me what happened here?”

  Chief Terry was at a loss as he glanced between faces.

  “She attacked me for no reason,” Lila announced, pointing at Thist
le with one hand as she touched her bloody lip with another. “I want her arrested.”

  “She attacked me first,” Thistle argued. “She punched me in the face. Look at my eye! I’ll have a black eye for days.”

  “I guess you were wrong about that karma,” I noted.

  “I will punch you in your other eye, Bay,” Thistle barked.

  “You’re not touching her,” Landon warned, smoothing my hair as he offered me a small smile. “You didn’t get hurt, right?”

  “No, your precious Bay is fine,” Lila seethed. “She ducked when I tried to punch her and I accidentally got Thistle instead. She’s lucky, because I was ready to kill her.”

  “Oh, well, that’s a smart thing to say in front of a cop and an FBI agent,” Landon drawled. “How are you even out of prison? I heard you got two years.”

  “Oh, well … .” Lila straightened in her chair. “I’m not exactly sure how that happened. I was sitting in my cell plotting Bay’s downfall and then – poof! – I was in my mother’s living room. I swear. I’m not sure how I got there.”

  I had a feeling I knew how she got there. “Lila’s mother probably made a wish,” I murmured.

  “Yeah, I figured that, too.” Landon seemed intent on my face as he blew out a sigh. “Okay, well, we’ll track down Lila’s mother and make her reverse the wish. Then we’ll get Lila back to prison and go from there.”

  “I’m not going back to prison,” Lila announced.

  “Fine, we’ll add escape and resisting arrest to your rap sheet, and you can do another five years,” Landon shot back.

  “Fine. I’ll go back to prison.” Lila crossed her arms over her chest. “I hate this family. I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”

  “And yet you did it anyway,” Chief Terry noted. “I think that says a little something about you.”

  “Yeah, I’m an idiot.”

  “Oh, I wanted to say that,” Thistle muttered, wincing as she touched her eye. “This bites. I thought this whole thing was funny until this happened. Now everything is ruined. I blame you, Bay.”

  “You usually do,” I said dryly. “How is this my fault?”

  “You ducked.”

  “That’s because my sweetie has good reflexes,” Landon said, beaming. “As long as you’re okay, Bay, we’ll call this a win.”

  “I’m fine. Speaking of fine, though, how is Deidre?”

  “She seems okay,” Landon replied. “She swore out the complaint, and Doug is locked up. He has no idea what happened, and we hope to keep it that way. Deidre is already home.”

  “Mom and Twila mentioned inviting her here because they thought she might be lonely.”

  “She’s renovating Doug’s office – and by ‘renovating’ I mean tossing out all of his stuff – so I think she has plans,” Landon said. “I gave her my card. If she needs help, I’m more than willing to give it to her.”

  “That’s because you’re a good guy.” I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re the best guy.”

  “Oh, geez. Do you guys want some schmaltz with your cheese?” Thistle complained.

  Landon ignored her. “Come on, sweetie. I’ll get you a cookie.”

  “And I’ll handle Lila,” Chief Terry offered. “Am I the only one who feels as if we’re not making any progress on these wishes? Every single time we knock one down two pop up to take its place.”

  “They do seem to be getting ahead of us,” Landon agreed. “But we can only take it one step at a time. My first step is getting Bay a cookie. After that, we’ll talk strategy.”

  Chief Terry nodded, resigned. “I’m on it. Come on, Lila. I’m sure they’re missing you at the prison.”

  “I really do hate you,” Lila sneered as she moved past me.

  I couldn’t muster much energy to even fake hurt feelings. “I don’t plan to lose any sleep over that.”

  There’s a shooting star. I’d make a wish … but I already have everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m not sure when it happened, but there it is.

  – Bay to Landon as they watch the night sky

  Fifteen

  Even though we were exhausted, we decided to hit up Mrs. Little before calling it a night. Landon called his boss and said there was a family emergency – citing the fact that I was attacked by a group of teenagers and needed someone to take care of me – to avoid heading into the Traverse City office the following day. I was happy he would be close, but not thrilled with the idea of his co-workers thinking I was beaten by teenagers.

  “Did he laugh?”

  “Who?” Landon was distracted as he found a parking spot behind Mrs. Little’s store. A few months ago the store had been firebombed and undergone extensive renovations. It was back in operation and the lights were on.

  “Your boss.”

  “Did he laugh about what?” Landon was confused as he killed the engine.

  “The fact that I got beat up by teenagers.”

  “Oh.” Landon’s lips curved at my discontent. “Sweetie, I need to be here for at least one more day. That meant I had to come up with an excuse. You really were attacked by a group of teenagers, so it wasn’t an outright lie, which I prefer because my boss has the legal authority to arrest me.”

  “You could’ve told him I was upset because Lila escaped from prison,” I suggested. “That’s better than being terrorized by teenagers.”

  “Yes, well, I wasn’t sure exactly how Chief Terry explained that one, so I didn’t want to risk it,” Landon admitted. “I’m sure he’s not laughing. In fact, he probably thinks I exaggerated things so I could get an extra day with you.”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering. “That kind of makes you look like a sex fiend.”

  “I can live with that.”

  Landon linked his fingers with mine as we marched to the store. I could see Mrs. Little standing behind the counter through the window. She had at least four women loitering about listening to her. I recognized the women from the senior center. I couldn’t ever remember Mrs. Little making nice with them at any instance before this.

  “That’s odd,” I murmured, slowing my pace. “I thought those women hated Mrs. Little.”

  “Doesn’t every woman in this town hate Mrs. Little?”

  He had a point. Still … . “She must’ve wished to be popular or something. That’s all I can think.”

  “Well, she’s going to be difficult,” Landon noted. “We know that. How do you want to approach this?”

  “Punching her is out, right?”

  Landon snickered. “There’s a lot of punching going on today. I would appreciate it if you weren’t involved in another physical altercation. I’m pretty sure you can take Mrs. Little, but I would like you in one piece when we finally get to crawl under the covers and call it a day.”

  I cast him a sidelong look, curiosity getting the better of me. “Can I ask you something?”

  “I guess.”

  “What would you wish for if you could have anything?”

  Landon shrugged as he pressed his hand to the small of my back to urge me forward. “I have what I want, Bay. I guess I might wish for a new motorcycle, but I can save up and buy that eventually.”

  My heart rolled a bit at the admission. “That’s what I said,” I admitted. “We were talking about it in the kitchen before Lila showed up and I said I have everything I want. I added that I might like a new pair of boots, but I have everything else. We made jokes about having everything we wanted at the dedication the other day, but I really do have what I want.”

  Landon’s smile was earnest as he met my gaze. “I guess that’s what happens when you find the right person, huh?”

  “I think it’s because you’re so smoking hot I become blind to everything else.”

  “That was a marvelous answer.” Landon smacked a quick kiss against my lips. “Come on. Let’s see what the evil queen has in store for us, shall we?”

  The Unicorn Emporium was bustling with activity when we entered. Lenore Duncan,
a coffee cup from the bakery in her hand, stood close to the counter as Mrs. Little regaled her audience with a terrific story about … hmm, I couldn’t really figure out what story she was telling, to be honest.

  “And then I said I thought that pea green was an abysmal color and she just shut right up,” Mrs. Little said. “It was so funny. Oh, hello, Bay. Agent Michaels.”

  “Mrs. Little.” Landon kept his smile in place as he regarded her. “How are you this evening?”

  “I’m wonderful. Thank you. How are you?”

  “It’s been a long day,” Landon replied.

  “It looks like that’s certainly the case.” Mrs. Little’s studied gaze fell on me. “I’m generally not a fan of beating women, but I guess Bay had it coming, huh?”

  Landon scowled. “That’s not funny.”

  “Leave him alone,” I ordered, shaking my head. “I got beat up by a bunch of teenagers.” Hmm. That didn’t sound any better. There was no making that story sound better, quite frankly. I probably should’ve stuck with Thistle’s suggestion and named her as the culprit. “We need to talk to you, Mrs. Little.”

  “As you can see, I’m busy.” Mrs. Little always fancied herself above everyone else. Now that she apparently had fans, she was practically unbearable.

  “That wasn’t a request,” Landon interjected, flashing his badge. “This is official business.”

  Her audience exchanged nervous looks as they edged toward the door.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow, Margaret.” I didn’t bother to glance over my shoulder to see which of them called out the farewell.

  “You don’t have to leave,” Mrs. Little protested. “They don’t have the power to make you go.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  I waited until the door closed to fix Mrs. Little with a tight smile. Now that she didn’t have an audience to play to she appeared nervous. “What did you wish for?” I thought about easing into the question, but there really didn’t seem to be a reason to indulge in games.