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Witch, Interrupted Page 19
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“So?”
“So ... go.” I flashed a weary smile. “Go and do whatever it is you do. I promise not to put you in a box this time.”
“Shall I get down on my knees and thank you for that?”
“I don’t care what you do. Just don’t come back until I call you. Oh, and ... think hard about the file in your cabinet. The psychopath one. Odds are that’s who killed you. You’ve already broken every rule in the doctor-patient handbook. By breaking this one you might lead us to a killer. That’s a good thing ... and you could use the karma.”
He sighed. “I’ll consider it.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Nineteen
Reading Mrs. Little’s file was enlightening. Hopper diagnosed her with three personality disorders, but I remained unsure of why she went to him in the first place. Nothing in the file explained it. I was also confused about why he agreed to see her since he generally dealt with couples. I wasn’t curious enough to summon him — mostly because I found him unbelievably arrogant and annoying — but I made a mental note to question him about it the next time we crossed paths.
Landon was awake and watching me when I opened my eyes the next morning. He seemed relaxed, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. It took me longer to wake up than him, so I merely rolled and buried my face in his shoulder.
“Why do you always wake up in a good mood?” I complained. “I don’t think that’s normal.”
“I don’t always wake up in a good mood. Sometimes I’m crabby. You’re just not a morning person.” He poked my side to elicit a giggle. “As for this morning, I haven’t been up long.”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you look like an angel when you’re asleep.”
I snorted. “You’re laying it on a bit thick.”
“Maybe. There’s something about the way that blond hair fans out that reminds me of angels, though. I don’t know how to explain it.”
I opened an eye and focused. “If you’re looking to play games this morning, I don’t think we have time. We need to head up to the inn. I want to talk to my mother.”
“About Chief Terry?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think she’s going to say?”
That was a difficult question to answer. “I don’t know,” I said after a beat. “She’s upset. She won’t admit it, but I see it.”
“I see it, too. The thing is, I think maybe she’s upset because she believes her chance has passed and it’s time to let Chief Terry move on and be happy.”
I sensed a stern admonishment in my future if I didn’t gain control of the conversation. “I think she’s upset because she’s going to have to put forth some effort to snag Chief Terry. Before, it was easy for her. He always showed up and threw out nonstop compliments about her pie. Wait ... that came out dirtier than I meant for it to.”
Landon’s chuckle was warm as he tightened his arms around my back. “I understand what you’re saying. I also understand that you could make things worse if you get involved in this. It’s not your business.”
“I didn’t say it was my business.”
“But you’re plotting something. I know you.”
“I’m not plotting against Chief Terry.” That was true. I would never plot against him. He was part of the family and rarely did anything that deserved plotting.
“You’re plotting against Melanie,” Landon argued. “Don’t bother denying it. I see it whenever you look at her. You’re working hard to come up with a plan to knock her out of the running.”
“See, I think you’re looking at this the wrong way. She shouldn’t even be in the running. Somehow — and I’m still not certain how it happened — but somehow she was allowed into the game even though she didn’t meet the team requirements.”
“Oh, I love it when you use sports metaphors. You think I’ll simply agree with you because I’m a dude, but that’s not the case this time.”
“You think I’m going to purposely hurt Chief Terry.”
“I think you’re going to hurt yourself,” Landon clarified. “I saw the look on your face last night when Chief Terry froze you out. He was angry — and he had a right to be angry — but you didn’t take it well because you’re used to him doting on you. How do you think things are going to be if you manage to get rid of Melanie and he finds out what you’ve done?”
It was a fair question. That didn’t mean I wanted to answer it. “I think they’re going to have bacon at the inn for breakfast this morning. We should get cleaned up.” I moved to slip out of bed but Landon kept a firm grip on me so I couldn’t escape.
“Don’t even think about it. You might believe you’re being smooth, but I know better.”
“I’m hungry.”
“The bacon will wait. Wow. That’s something I never thought I would say.”
That made two of us. “Landon ... .”
“No, you listen to me.” He was firm. “I know that you want Chief Terry to be part of this family. He already is.. He’ll always your father figure. He doesn’t have to date your mother to make that happen. Why can’t you just let this go?”
“Because ... it’s not right.”
“What’s not right?”
“All of it. He was always supposed to be part of the family. An official part, not just a ceremonial part. I recognized that when I was a kid, even though I’d let the notion fall by the wayside at some point. Now things are different and it’s the perfect time for all those forgotten dreams to come together. They’re not supposed to come together this way.”
“Because you want him with your mother.”
“I want him to be happy.”
“Bay, he is happy.” Landon’s eyes filled with sadness. “He won’t stop loving you because he’s with Melanie. That’s not how he operates. He’s angry right now because he doesn’t understand why we did what we did, but he’ll get over it. I promise you that.”
“You’re missing the bigger picture.”
“Then tell me what the bigger picture is.”
“He’s supposed to be here, with us. Not here in the guesthouse or anything, because that would be weird. He’s supposed to be at the inn. He’s supposed to be happy ... but here.”
“That’s what you want.” Landon’s temper came out to play. “Sweetie, let me ask you something. If your mother had tried to get rid of me back in the day and managed to accomplish it, would you have been satisfied with her explanation that she wanted you to be happy with someone other than me?”
He was making things too personal. “She wouldn’t have done that.”
“Why?”
“You said it yourself: We were meant to be.”
“I’m glad you see that, because I’m hopeful it will cause you to relax, but that’s not the point. Maybe Chief Terry believes he and Melanie are supposed to be.”
“No.”
“He seems happy, lighter than he has since I met him,” Landon persisted. “Why can’t you give that to him?”
“Because he’ll be happier here.”
“No, you’ll be happier here.”
“We’ll all be happier here.”
“I can’t even ... .” Landon rolled to his back and brushed the hair from his eyes. “You’re going to do this even though you know things will blow up in your pretty face. There’s no stopping you, is there?”
“I’m going to do this because it’s best for everybody.”
“I don’t want to hear you whining when things go sideways. I’m putting my foot down. I warned you about this and you refuse to listen.”
“She’s not the right person for him.” I believed that with my whole heart. “There’s something off about her.”
“You’re making that up to justify your actions, but ... whatever.” He smacked a loud kiss against the corner of my mouth. “You’re going to do what you want. That’s how you are and I don’t expect things to change. I love you for who you are ... even when you’re going to do s
omething stupid. So ... have at it.”
“I don’t need your permission.”
“You don’t have it.”
“Things will work out. Just wait and see.”
“I’m terrified of seeing how they’ll work out. You have no idea.”
WE’D PUT THE MINI-ARGUMENT behind us by the time we hit The Overlook. Guests were due to arrive later in the afternoon, although the expected number was small. Things wouldn’t start heating up for another two weeks. Once the weather turned, the bus traffic would increase and we’d be slammed all summer. I was always eager for the break when winter hit, but by the time spring rolled around, I was also ready for the busy period.
Despite the fact that Landon was agitated with my plan to insert myself into Chief Terry’s relationship, he shoved the disagreement aside and was all smiles when we entered the kitchen. Marnie and Twila, seemingly lost in their own little world, happily carried platters of pancakes and bacon to the dining room as Landon sprung into action to help. That left Mom, Aunt Tillie and me in the kitchen ... and the unhappiness hanging over the room was pronounced.
“How did your evening with Mrs. Little’s file go?” Mom asked, her attention on the fruit she was chopping.
“It was interesting, but nothing we didn’t suspect. She’s paranoid about Aunt Tillie and she’s a rampant narcissist.”
“She’s been that way as long as I’ve known her,” Mom agreed. “She’s always believed Aunt Tillie was out to get her. One time, she swore up and down her soda tasted funny and accused Aunt Tillie of slipping cyanide in it.”
Aunt Tillie snorted from her recliner in the corner. She didn’t appear to be in a hurry to join the rest of the crew around the dining room table. “She should’ve been worried about that wine she bought at the store. It was in a box, which means it was easy to tamper with. I didn’t drop any cyanide in there, but I did experiment with happy pills one time.”
“I believe that was the week Mrs. Little danced in the town square and blessed all the residents with a plastic magic wand if I remember correctly,” Mom noted.
“That would be the week.”
I snickered, genuinely amused. “That must have been when I was living in Detroit. I don’t remember that ... and I surely would if I’d been here to witness it.”
“I believe Aunt Tillie took video of the phenomenon,” Mom offered. “Ask her to let you see it. She overlapped the footage with a Bon Jovi song. It’s delightful.”
“I can’t wait.” I rested my palms on the counter and knit my eyebrows as I studied my mother. She was pale and quiet, two things that didn’t fit her personality, and she seemed withdrawn. I knew why. I also knew she didn’t want to talk about it. That wasn’t going to stop me from pressing the issue.
“Have you talked to Chief Terry?”
Mom’s sigh was more exasperated than resigned. “And why would I do that?”
“Because you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset. I’m simply not feeling myself. I think a bug must be going around. It’s that time of year.”
“Except no one in our family ever gets sick,” I countered, my patience wearing thin. “That’s why we take all those witch herbs Aunt Tillie foists on us. They boost our immune systems. We never get anything worse than a few stray sniffles in the winter. In fact, Landon was so impressed with my immune system this year he’s started taking the herbs.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Aunt Tillie offered, her eyes thoughtful as they roamed my mother’s drawn face. “He’s a real baby when he gets sick. When he had that sore throat in January you would’ve thought the world was ending. He made your mother make him chicken noodle soup and you waited on him hand and foot. It was pathetic.”
“He wasn’t that bad,” Mom countered. “In fact, I liked taking care of him.”
“He was kind of whiny,” I hedged. “I think it’s a man thing.”
“I’ll definitely agree with you there,” Aunt Tillie supplied. “Men are not as strong as women when it comes to colds and the flu. I think it’s something in their genetic makeup. In fact ... do you remember that time when the girls were teenagers and Terry came down with strep throat?”
Mom’s shoulders stiffened. “I don’t think we need to discuss that story.”
Aunt Tillie ignored the change in Mom’s demeanor. “He was hacking up a lung and his throat was on fire. Bay was worried that he was going to die because she saw some program on the news that said flu patients were passing at an alarming rate.”
“They shouldn’t put that sort of thing on television if they don’t want people to overreact,” I complained.
Aunt Tillie snickered. “The girls insisted on making him soup. His favorite was navy bean and ham. You worked with them in the kitchen until they came up with the perfect recipe. Then they took fresh juice, tissues, magazines, cake and that soup to his house and proceeded to wait on him the entire day. You let them skip school to do it. Do you remember that?”
Mom’s sigh was weary. “I remember. Bay refused to go to school because she was convinced he wouldn’t die if she was with him.”
“So the four of you sat over there all day,” Aunt Tillie continued. “Clove read articles from a gossip magazine. Thistle read short stories from a science fiction magazine. Bay read newspaper articles, although she cleaned them up so Terry wouldn’t be upset by bad news.
“All the while, you sat next to his bed and monitored his temperature and doled out medicine,” she continued. “Eventually, the girls fell asleep and you sat with Terry and made sure he got the rest he needed. He bounced back quickly, and the girls were convinced it was the soup that did it. We know better, though, don’t we?”
I wasn’t sure where she was going with the story, but I was intrigued. “What happened?”
“Your mother mixed a special herb blend and added it to the soup,” Aunt Tillie replied. “She chanted over Terry for a full hour as he slept to bolster his immune system. Your mother, who is a big believer in getting over ailments yourself, broke the rules because she didn’t like seeing Terry in discomfort. Even more, she didn’t like watching you girls worry about him. She was trying to make everybody feel better, which is her way.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes as I fought to keep from crying. “Why didn’t you get together when I was a kid? I want to know the truth.”
“It was never the right time,” Mom answered stubbornly. “I had you ... and Thistle ... and Clove. I had Aunt Tillie.”
“You weren’t responsible for all of us,” I argued. “Aunt Tillie was an adult.”
“Who often acted like a child.”
“That doesn’t mean you were responsible for watching me,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I was never your responsibility. You were mine. I took you in when your mother died and I never regretted it. I think you believed it was your responsibility to take over as the adult in the family at a certain point, but it was never necessary.”
“That ultimately doesn’t matter,” Mom argued. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t believe Terry and I would eventually find a way to work things out. That didn’t happen. There was always something going on. When the girls were younger he was afraid that they would get too attached to him and he would somehow let them down. He gave them most of his focus. I’m not sorry about that. The girls thrived thanks to him.”
“But you were shoved to the side,” I pointed out. “You didn’t get what you wanted because we were the focus. We’re adults now. You can get what you want.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Aunt Tillie said. “She doesn’t want to listen.”
“All you have to do is tell him how you feel,” I pressed. “Things will work out if you do.”
“Well, I’m not doing that.” Mom was firm as she grabbed the bowl of fruit she’d finished chopping. “He’s moving on. That’s his right. I won’t insert myself into his life.” She moved toward the door, pulling up short when she caught Landon standing in the threshold. He looked s
ympathetic, something that caused Mom to sneer. “Why aren’t you eating your bacon?”
“I was just checking on you guys,” Landon replied.
“We’re all set here.”
“Okay.” Landon stepped to the side so Mom could breeze past him, and met my gaze head on. Something in his demeanor had changed. “Fine. If you want to get rid of Melanie, I’m all for it. Clearly things haven’t worked out as they were supposed to.”
My lips curved, unbidden. He’d been listening on the other side of the door. “I thought you wanted me to mind my own business.”
“I changed my mind. Go get her.”
That was the best thing I’d heard all day. “You really are the perfect man.”
“I know. I’m getting a T-shirt made up and everything.”
Twenty
Landon lamented the fact that I’d turned him into a busybody for most of breakfast. Aunt Tillie found his change of heart amusing. When it came time to depart for the day, I took Aunt Tillie with me so we could collect Clove and Thistle at Hypnotic and left Landon to what was sure to be a long slog.
“He’ll forgive you eventually,” I offered, mimicking his earlier words.
“Ha, ha.” He lightly flicked the spot between my eyebrows before giving me a quick kiss. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
“You just spent an hour complaining that we’ve turned you into a girl,” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “Which one is it?”
“I said you’ve turned me into a busybody, not a girl.”
“You say tomato.”
“Whatever.” Landon’s sigh was full of weariness. “You guys need to behave yourselves. Whatever you have planned for Melanie, make sure it can’t be traced back to you.”
“We’re not going after Melanie today,” I countered, matter-of-fact. “We need to come up with a plan for that.”
Puzzled, Landon furrowed his brow. “Then what are you doing?”
“We’re going to cast a spell to figure out who has been at Hopper’s house.”