Life's a Witch Read online

  “That’s because she needs my help,” Rosemary sniffed. “It’s not the same situation at all.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered. “Go ahead and look around. There’s nothing here to interest you.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Rosemary countered. “It’s very quaint … but homey.”

  Now I understood what Thistle meant about the word “quaint.” I ignored Rosemary as I continued searching through the files. I’d pulled the graduation records from two years earlier so I could look at the spread. I wanted to see whether Nathaniel was in any of the photographs. I was even more interested in finding out who he hung out with.

  I was lost in thought, trying to pretend Rosemary wasn’t touching everything in sight as she made small sighing noises while roaming the area, and almost managed to put her out of my mind until Brian strolled toward me. “Hey, Bay. What do you plan on doing with this murder out at Hollow Creek?”

  “I plan on writing a story.”

  “Ha, ha,” Brian said. “What kind of story?”

  “I was thinking of turning it into a fairy tale.” I didn’t bother to look up. Brian wasn’t even my least favorite person in the office right now. That was almost mind-boggling.

  “People in town are saying it’s tied to drugs,” Brian said. “Have you uncovered anything like that?”

  “I’ve heard about the drugs, but I don’t have any proof yet.”

  “It’s terrible that so many kids throw their lives away because of drugs,” Rosemary chimed in.

  Brian swiveled quickly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you standing there. I wasn’t aware Bay was doing an interview.”

  “I’m not doing an interview,” I replied. “That’s my second-cousin, Rosemary. She stopped by to the see the office.” And give me a migraine, I silently added.

  “Rosemary, it’s so nice to meet you,” Brian said, moving toward her so he could shake her hand. “I just love meeting members of Bay’s family. I’m Brian Kelly. I own The Whistler.”

  “How nice,” Rosemary said, returning Brian’s smile. “I wasn’t aware that anyone but Bay worked here.”

  “I wasn’t aware Brian even worked,” I muttered, causing Edith to snicker.

  “So, how are you related to Bay?” Brian asked, ignoring my dig. “Are you a relative on her mother’s side?”

  “I am.”

  “Oh, that’s … .” Brian searched for the appropriate word.

  “You don’t have to put on a show, Brian,” I said. “Rosemary likes my family – and especially Aunt Tillie – even less than you do. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about, if you’re so inclined.”

  Brian scorched me with a dark look. “I’ll have you know that I adore Aunt Tillie.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t you dare tell her that I don’t,” Brian ordered. In truth, Aunt Tillie terrified him. I didn’t blame him. On a normal day Aunt Tillie merely dislikes people. Every day she genuinely hates Brian.

  “I don’t think you’ll come up in conversation,” I said, focusing on Nathaniel’s two-dimensional face when I found him in a photo. I didn’t recognize either of the boys flanking him. This endeavor looked to be a dead end. “I’m not seeing Aunt Tillie tonight, so you’re safe.”

  “You’re not coming to dinner?” a petulant Rosemary asked. “That’s not a very nice way to show your extended family that you want to spend time with them.”

  “Then I guess I’m doing things correctly,” I replied. “If you must know, though, I’m going to the Dragonfly to have dinner with my father. Clove and Thistle will be there, too. You’re on your own with Aunt Tillie tonight.”

  “That’s a frightening thought,” Brian muttered.

  “I think she’s going senile,” Rosemary suggested.

  I rolled my eyes. “I think you guys have a lot in common and should go talk about it … elsewhere,” I suggested. “Brian can show you all around town, Rosemary. He loves festivals.”

  “Really?” Rosemary smiled. “I’d love that.”

  “Well then, that’s what we’ll do,” Brian said, puffing out his chest. “It would be my great pleasure to show you around.”

  And it would be my great pleasure for both of them to make themselves scarce for the remainder of the afternoon. Brian Kelly had finally done something right. Who knew he was even capable of it?

  Fifteen

  “I’m so glad you could make it,” Dad said, ushering us inside the Dragonfly a few minutes before seven. “I was starting to worry you’d find an excuse not to come.”

  “It’s my fault,” Landon replied, placing his hand at the small of my back as he urged me forward. “I was working with Chief Terry. We had to question some people today on the Jamison death. It took longer than I thought.”

  “I heard about that,” Dad said, leading us into the dining room where everyone else was already seated. “That’s a shame. Do you have any leads?”

  “It’s kind of a tough thing to unravel,” Landon admitted, pulling my chair out so I could sit between my father and him, while nodding in greeting to everyone else. “There are a lot of stories out there about Nathaniel and what he was up to, yet we can’t find anyone who actually admits to spending time with the kid.”

  “I pulled the graduation spread from two years ago looking for friends, but I didn’t recognize either of the kids standing next to him,” I said. “I’m not sure how many people are still around from that graduating class.”

  “I think Toby Jenkins was a member of that class,” Thistle offered. “I saw him at the festival today. He was running the booth for his parents. It was right next to our booth.”

  “I’ll try talking to him tomorrow,” Landon said.

  The table lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

  “So, um, we really want to apologize to you guys for overreacting about what happened,” Dad said, his finger tracing a circular pattern on the napkin in front of him. “While we don’t think what you guys did was right, we know our reaction was definitely wrong. We’re very sorry, and we want another chance.”

  “Listen, this is hard on all of us,” I said. “We’re used to doing things one specific way with our mothers. We sometimes forget that other people don’t do things the same way.”

  “And you guys left because of the way our mothers did things,” Thistle added. Of all of us, she was the most bitter about her father leaving. She could hold a grudge longer than … well, just about anyone, other than Aunt Tillie.

  “Thistle, we did not leave because we didn’t like the way your mothers did things,” Uncle Teddy clarified. “We left because … things weren’t working out. We didn’t want to make things worse by staying. It’s our fault for not explaining things better to you guys when you were kids.”

  Landon slipped his arm around my back, rubbing a lazy pattern against my neck as he leaned back in his chair. “This isn’t any of my business, but that’s never stopped me from getting involved before,” he said. “Do you guys regret leaving the way you did?”

  Dad met Landon’s even gaze, his face unreadable. They were having growing pains of their own. It was hard for Dad to see me with Landon. I thought it was because he didn’t like him. In truth – and it was something he admitted while under the spell – he was really worried Landon would die on the job and break my heart. We all held beliefs about each other, and it seemed most of them weren’t based in actual truth.

  “I regret most of it,” Dad replied. “Winnie and I were fighting a lot. She’s your mother, and you have your own relationship with her. From my perspective, though, she was bossy and refused to back down.”

  I snorted. That was my relationship with her at times, too.

  “That doesn’t mean I didn’t love her,” Dad continued. “Part of me will always love her. We had some good years in there. You probably only remember the bad parts, but there were fun times, too.”

  I didn’t particularly remember the good or bad times, but I didn’t think now was the t
ime to admit that. After he left, I tried to push back all memories of him because it bothered me to dwell on things I couldn’t change. He was here now, though. “I think we’ve all been trying really hard to walk on eggshells around each other,” I said, glancing at Landon. “Someone reminded me today that a real relationship doesn’t work if you’re trying to avoid a fight.”

  Thistle laughed. “Oh, good grief,” she said. “I take it you and Landon had a talk about last night’s massive family freakout.”

  “It wasn’t really about that,” I countered. “What he said makes sense, though. We’re too worried about fighting. We need to agree that fighting is part of our relationship and move on.”

  “I think we’re all a little worried that if we tell you what we’re really feeling you guys will take off again,” Clove admitted. “It’s hard for us, because … well … we know we can yell and scream at our mothers and it will be fine. We’re not as sure about that with you.”

  “Because they never left, and we did,” Uncle Warren supplied. “I get that, and I see where it’s a real fear for you guys. I’m not sure how to fix it, though. We have a business. We’ve decided to make our lives here. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  “Maybe you don’t need to fix it,” Landon suggested. “You can’t tell people you’re not going to leave and have them automatically believe it. You have to prove it to them.” He squeezed the back of my neck to reassure me. “They don’t know what you’re thinking and feeling any more than you know what they’re thinking and feeling. You might want to consider a weekly meal to get to know one another again. They’re not kids any longer. You have to get to know them as adults.”

  “That’s actually a good idea,” Teddy mused, rubbing his chin.

  “It’s also probably not wise to constantly fixate on the big stuff,” Landon added. “Try bonding over the little stuff, and work your way up to the big stuff.”

  “You’re smarter than you look,” Dad quipped.

  “That’s impossible, because I look like a genius,” Landon countered, causing everyone at the table to laugh.

  Things were more relaxed after that. Everyone doled Teddy’s special seafood Alfredo onto their plates and focused on mundane conversational topics. Well, at least our fathers thought they were mundane.

  “What’s going on at The Overlook these days?” Warren asked.

  Thistle, Clove and I groaned in unison, causing our fathers to raise their eyebrows.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Dad said. “What’s up?”

  “Did you ever meet Aunt Willa?”

  Dad frowned. “Once,” he answered. “There was a big Winchester family reunion, and I met her there. She and Tillie got in a screaming match, and the day pretty much ended before it began. Why?”

  “She’s in town with Rosemary,” Thistle replied, making her disgusted face. “They’re evil.”

  “I’m surprised,” Warren said. “There was no love between Tillie and Willa. Ginger kept them together, from what I understand. Tillie and Willa were happy to go their separate ways once she died.”

  “Did you know that Aunt Willa tried to get custody of Mom?” Thistle asked Teddy. “Did Mom ever mention that when you were married?”

  Teddy furrowed his brow. “Now that you mention it, she did bring it up once,” he said. “I didn’t remember until just now. We were drinking one night, and she was talking about Ginger and how hard it was for all of them when she died.

  “In actuality, she was trying to explain why they were all so loyal to Tillie,” he continued. “I’m sure you can imagine how rough your great-aunt was on us when we started dating. I didn’t understand why everyone was loyal to her given the way she acted.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Well, let me think,” Teddy muttered. “I was drunk that night, too. Twila said something about Willa wanting all three of them. I think Winnie was already of legal age, though, and Marnie was very close. That left only Twila up for grabs, and she was terrified Willa would get custody.”

  “I can’t imagine any judge taking teenagers from someone if they didn’t want to go,” Landon said. “I know Aunt Tillie has a certain reputation, but I don’t think anyone could ever argue that she doesn’t love her nieces. She drives me crazy, but I’ve never doubted that.”

  “You haven’t been around to hear all the stories about Tillie, though,” Dad countered. “I know this will blow your mind, but she’s actually tame compared to how she used to act.”

  “That’s terrifying,” Sam said.

  Teddy chuckled. “At her core, Tillie is a good woman,” he said. “She’s also set in her ways and bossy.”

  “Bossy is an understatement,” Warren said. “She picked out Marnie’s wedding dress when it came time. Marnie didn’t like it, but Tillie won that argument … as she always does.”

  “If I remember the story correctly, Tillie explained to Willa that even if she took Twila, there would be no money in it for her,” Teddy said. “Tillie took over your grandmother’s part of the land, but every cent Ginger put away went to the three girls.”

  “The land must be worth a pretty penny now,” Marcus said. “Land values in Hemlock Cove keeping rising thanks to the tourist trade. I wonder how much it was worth back then.”

  “I have no idea,” Teddy replied.

  “The better question is how Willa got cut out of the family property in the first place,” Landon said. “I’d guess that property – given its size and location in the township – has to be worth a high six figures now. It could be worth more than that.”

  “I doubt that’s what it was worth back then,” Warren cautioned. “You weren’t around Hemlock Cove when it was Walkerville. For a time there, when the industrial base dried up, this was just a small town struggling to survive.”

  “The rebranding did wonders for it,” Dad said. “Property is at a premium here. We spent almost three-hundred grand when we bought this place.”

  Thistle choked on her wine. “You’ve got to be kidding me! This place was a dump when you bought it.”

  “It was also the cheapest parcel in the area,” Teddy said. “I’ll bet that Tillie and Ginger bought Willa’s share of the property after their parents died. Back then they probably didn’t have to give her much to make her go away.”

  “And I’ll bet Willa is bitter about it,” Landon added. “Given how popular the inn is, that business is probably worth seven figures now that I know what you guys spent on this place.”

  “I still don’t understand what Aunt Willa hopes to do by coming here,” Clove said. “She’s obviously not interested in making up with Aunt Tillie. They can’t stand each other.”

  “Aunt Willa makes Aunt Tillie look cuddly,” Thistle said.

  “Whatever Willa is doing here, she’s obviously not ready to make her intentions known,” Landon said. “We all have to be ready when she does, because when it happens, Aunt Tillie will turn herself into a tornado to make sure she gets what she wants.”

  “Everyone should be ready to duck and cover,” Dad said.

  “That’s the way we live our lives as it is,” I replied. “This is merely going to be a different storm.”

  Sixteen

  “This was a terrible idea,” Thistle announced three hours later as we trudged through the heavy foliage that led to Hollow Creek. “I can’t believe we agreed to this.”

  “It was your idea,” Marcus gently reminded her.

  After numerous glasses of wine – and a lively dinner conversation that didn’t unravel into an argument for a pleasant change – Thistle suggested everyone take a trip to Hollow Creek to look for Nathaniel’s ghost once we left the Dragonfly. She was always gung-ho for adventures when she was drunk. She was going to regret it in the morning.

  Sam and Clove begged off, both claiming early mornings as they headed in the direction of the Dandridge. That left Marcus and Thistle to ride with us. It still felt weird to be on an adventure without Clove constantly whining abou
t how much trouble we were going to get into. She and Sam were spending almost all of their nights at the Dandridge now. I don’t know why, but the realization gave me pause.

  “Do you think Clove and Sam are going to move in together?”

  Landon, his fingers linked with mine, glanced over. “Where did that come from?”

  “I was just thinking how Clove wasn’t here for the adventure,” I replied. “She wouldn’t have wanted to come anyway. We would’ve had to threaten and tease her to get her to come. She hates wandering around the woods in the dark.”

  “She hates wandering around in the woods during the day, too,” Thistle said.

  “They barely spend nights at the guesthouse now,” I said, “maybe once every two weeks or so. I don’t think she’s been there more than one night this week.”

  “I don’t know,” Landon replied, scanning the ground to make sure we didn’t trip. “Would that bother you?”

  That was an interesting question. I’d lived with my cousins for so long another arrangement seemed strange. “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s not as though we wouldn’t see her if it happened. It’s just … weird.”

  Landon and Marcus exchanged a pointed look, which wasn’t lost on me. Something unsaid passed between them, but I couldn’t figure out what.

  “You know you guys can’t live together forever, right?” Landon asked, grabbing me around the waist to help me over a fallen tree. Unlike Thistle, I had only two glasses of wine at dinner. I wasn’t drunk, and it wasn’t necessary, but it was still a cute move.

  “I know that,” I said. “I didn’t expect to live together as long as we have. It’s just … .”

  “No one expected Clove to be the first one to move out,” Thistle supplied, cursing under her breath when she slammed her foot into a hidden root. “This was a terrible idea!”

  “Is that what’s bugging you?” Landon asked, his face barely visible in the darkness. “Are you upset Clove might be moving out, or are you upset because she’s the first to consider it?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I don’t think I’m upset. In fact, if she moved out that means the guesthouse would be a little less crowded. It just occurred to me that I think it’s going to happen.”