wicked witches 06.9 - you only witch once Read online

  “I have no intention of being mean to her,” I said. “Do you think I’m a monster?”

  “You have your moments,” Marnie said. “I don’t think you’ll be mean to her, though. I still think you might want to keep your distance.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to take Rosemary in all your groups?”

  “Of course not,” Marnie said, making a face. “I can’t stand that kid. She’s going to have to be Twila’s problem.”

  “I think you guys are overreacting,” Twila said. “Rosemary is going to loosen up now that she’s away from Nettie and Aunt Willa for a few days. Just wait and see.”

  Marnie flicked the end of Twila’s nose, causing her sister to jump back. “What was that for?”

  “I’m trying to see whether your rose-colored glasses are invisible,” Marnie said. “It’s nice that you have faith Rosemary is a good kid. I don’t share that faith. Speaking of Rosemary, which cabin is she in?”

  “I put her in the first cabin,” Twila said.

  “Uh-huh.” Marnie glanced over her shoulder, making sure it was still only the three of us within hearing distance. “Did she talk to any of the girls when got in there?”

  “Yeah,” Twila said. “She was friendly. In fact, she seemed to make instant friends with a few of the girls.”

  “Which girls?”

  “Hope Daniels and Lila Stevens.” Twila realized what she said. “Oh, crap.”

  “Lila Stevens?” My voice sounded squeaky. “Are you telling me Lila and Rosemary are hanging out?”

  “Well, that can’t be good,” Marnie said. “That means evil is joining with evil. Everyone should run for their lives now.”

  I shot her a look. “We’re going to have to watch them,” I said. “They’re going to cause trouble. They were going to cause trouble apart, but now that they’re together they’re going to cause bigger trouble. We can adapt. We can deal with it.”

  “I have a better idea,” Marnie said, turning and moving toward the cabins.

  “What?” I asked, worried.

  Marnie didn’t answer. Instead, she opened her mouth and let loose a bellow that could be heard three counties away. “Aunt Tillie!”

  “I CAN’T believe that little … .”

  “Don’t call Rosemary names,” Twila warned. “It’s not fair. She’s still just a child.”

  Aunt Tillie gripped her hands together, trying to remain calm. “Fine. I can’t believe that little ray of sunshine is our problem for the next few days. I just … why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I honestly forgot,” I said. “I was going to tell you last week, and then Donna went missing. Everyone was so worried about her that everything else fell by the wayside. Then, when we decided to run the camp ourselves, it got lost in all the stuff we had to prepare.”

  “You should have sent her away,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “We couldn’t do that,” I said. “It’s an open camp. We can’t single out one child and ban her.”

  “I could have,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “We know,” Marnie said. “That’s why we’ve decided that you’re the one who gets to … deal … with Rosemary and Lila if they get out of hand.”

  Aunt Tillie arched an eyebrow. “Lila?”

  “Apparently Rosemary and Lila have hit it off,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “It seems they may have found something they like about one another.”

  “I’m guessing it’s bitchiness,” Aunt Tillie muttered.

  I tilted my head to the side, sending her a mental admonishment. I knew she couldn’t read my mind, but I hoped she could read my expression. It didn’t work.

  “I’d be glad to take over the punishment of Lila and Rosemary,” Aunt Tillie said. “Leave it to me.”

  I grabbed her arm. “We didn’t say you could punish them,” I said. “We want you to watch them, and if they get out of hand you can report back to us. We’ll deal with it.”

  “Sure.”

  Aunt Tillie was never this easy. “Sure?”

  “I’d be happy to watch over the little … darlings. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. It gives an old woman purpose in the face of her dwindling years. Now I can go to my deathbed knowing that my true purpose in life was to act as babysitter and snitch at summer camp.”

  Sarcasm is a family trait, and the Winchester witches have it in surplus. Instead of calling Aunt Tillie on her dramatic retelling of the facts, though, I opted to ignore it. “I’m glad you understand. Thank you so very much.”

  Marnie snickered. “This is going to be a great couple of days,” she said. “I can feel it in my bones.”

  “We should really get lunch moving,” Twila said. “What time is Terry bringing the boys over?”

  Crap! That was another thing I’d forgotten about.

  Detective Terry Davenport was an old friend from high school. He was older than us by a few years, but he’d been an invaluable confidant as we traversed adulthood. He’d taken a position at the Hemlock Cove Police Department right after graduating from the police academy in Traverse City, and he’d been working his way up the ranks.

  Because he was a good man, Terry donated his time with various children’s groups. He was the one who initially reopened the campground from our childhood, bringing groups of boys from southern urban areas up for hiking, fishing and swimming weekends. He said city kids deserved a chance to enjoy the country, too.

  Once Donna Wilder took over the girls’ cabins, the two camps – separated by a small lake – ran in conjunction. While day-to-day activities were mostly separate, meals were served together to save on food bills and work hours.

  “I can’t believe I forgot Terry was bringing the boys over,” I said. “He said he would be here around one. What time is it now?”

  Marnie glanced at her watch. “He should be here in a half hour. That means we need to get the potato salad, buns and condiments ready. We should also round up the girls and get them out of the cabins. They’ve been in there since they arrived. What do you think they’re doing?”

  “Plotting the downfall of mankind,” Aunt Tillie said, grabbing a radish from the vegetable tray Twila unwrapped.

  “Oh, good,” I deadpanned. “You’ll fit right in. It’s your job to get the girls out here. Count them. Make sure we don’t lose any.”

  Aunt Tillie jumped to her feet and clicked her heels together, mock saluting as she sent me a saucy wink. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I bit my lip to keep my temper in check. Sometimes it feels as if there are four children in the house. “Thank you.”

  Once she was gone, I turned to Marnie. “She’s going to drive me insane before this is all said and done.”

  “That’s what she’s trying to do,” Marnie said. “She’s good when she has a task she wants to fulfill.”

  “We need to find something to keep her busy over the next few days,” I said. “I don’t know what that is, but we need to put our heads together.”

  “Let’s get through lunch first,” Marnie suggested. “How many kids does Terry have at his camp this week?”

  “Um … twelve I think,” I said.

  “Oh, well, thirty girls and twelve boys,” Marnie mused, “that seems like a great way to foster female togetherness.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s those hormones Twila was talking about,” Marnie said. “All the girls here are of an age when they’re boy crazy. There won’t be enough boys to go around. How do you think that’s going to end?”

  That was a problem I hadn’t considered. “They’re not even going to be around the boys all that long,” I said. “It will be fine.”

  “Sure,” Marnie said, moving her face closer to mine.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, pulling my head away.

  “I’m looking to see whether you borrowed Twila’s rose-colored glasses.”

  I swear, sisters are both a blessing and a curse.

  “LUNCH looks wonderful, ladies,” Terry said, beaming
at me as he doused his hot dog with ketchup. “I can’t thank you enough for letting us eat with you.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to thank us,” Marnie said, slipping a spoonful of potato salad on his plate as she sidled closer. “We love taking care of you.”

  “We do,” Twila agreed, sliding a slice of pie onto his plate. “Feeding you is one of the great pleasures of our lives.”

  They make me want to puke sometimes. This isn’t one of those times. Now I only want to poke them in the eyes and make them cry. “Will you two stop throwing yourselves at Terry?” I asked pointedly.

  Twila had the grace to look abashed, but Marnie was beyond caring. She knew she was on my last nerve, but she didn’t care.

  “Where are your boys from, Terry?” I asked, trying to draw the conversation to a safer ground.

  “They’re from the Saginaw and Bay City area,” Terry said.

  “I take it they don’t get to spend a lot of time in the woods,” I said, as I scanned the boys. They all sat at their own picnic table, occasionally shooting mischievous looks in the girls’ direction. “They look a little citified.”

  “They are,” Terry said. “They’re all excited to go swimming and kayaking, though. They’re good kids. They just haven’t had a lot of time to spend in nature. This is their chance.”

  I shifted my gaze to the girls, studying the table configurations. To my chagrin, Lila and Rosemary paired off at the far end of one of the tables. They whispered and laughed to each other, and every time one of them chuckled they shot dark looks to the adjacent table. Unfortunately, that happened to be the table where Bay, Clove and Thistle sat.

  Terry followed my gaze with his steady eyes. “Why did you let Lila Stevens come? You could have banned her. You know that, right?”

  “I can’t ban a child simply because she doesn’t like my child,” I said. “That’s not fair.”

  “Who cares about fair? Lila goes out of her way to make Bay miserable,” Terry said. “The kid deserves a few days of peace.”

  “I think you’re saying that because you spoil her rotten,” I said, smiling. Terry doted on all three of the girls, but he shared a special bond with Bay.

  “I don’t spoil her,” Terry said. “She’s just a little angel.”

  “Well, my little angel acted like a dark devil when she found out we were running the camp this week,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “She’s embarrassed,” I said. “She doesn’t want her mother to be the one in charge.”

  “It’s her age,” Terry said, patting my shoulder. “No kid that age wants their mother around. This is when kids start asserting their independence. That’s all she’s doing.”

  “I hope so.”

  “All kids pull away,” Terry said. “Most of them come back, though. Bay is one of the best kids in the world. She’s always going to come back.”

  “If people like Lila Stevens don’t make it too hard for her to come back,” I added.

  Terry sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. Hints of gray were starting to show at the temples, but he was still handsome. “Bay is a fighter,” he said. “She’ll find the strength to do what she has to do where Lila is concerned. I have faith. You should, too.”

  “I have faith that she’s stronger than she realizes,” I said, “but I need her to realize it.”

  “She will.”

  Bay picked that moment to get up from the table. She turned her head sharply when Lila and Rosemary dissolved into loud guffaws. I had no idea what they’d said, but it clearly bothered Bay. She was still trying to shake it off when she moved up beside me and tossed her plate into the garbage bag at my feet.

  “How was your lunch?” I asked.

  “It was good,” Bay said. “You made the potato salad.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I can always tell the difference between your potato salad and Marnie’s,” she said, shrugging.

  “Mine is better, right?” Marnie said, poking Bay in the side in an attempt to get her to smile.

  “They’re both good,” Bay said, rolling her eyes. “In fact, they’re both equally good.”

  “Oh, such a smart cookie,” Marnie said, tweaking her nose.

  Terry finished his lunch and tossed his plate in the garbage bag. After wiping his hands with a paper napkin, he opened his arms to give Bay a hug. She stepped into his wide embrace wordlessly. He rubbed her back for a moment. “How is my favorite girl?”

  After a moment, Bay pulled away and fixed a tight smile on her face. “I’m good.”

  “Good,” Terry said. “Make sure you stay away from those boys I brought. They’re bad news.”

  “I thought you said they were good kids,” I said.

  “They are good kids,” Terry said. “They’re not good enough for my Bay, though.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Bay said. “I’m not interested in those boys. They’re all over there making barking noises whenever one of us walks by.”

  Terry frowned. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Bay said. She turned to me, weary eyes making me cringe internally. She was too young to look so tired. “Can I go by the lake for a few minutes?”

  I nodded. “Do you want your cousins to go with you?”

  “I just want to be alone.”

  “Don’t go in the water,” I warned.

  “I don’t want to go in the water,” Bay said. “I only want to talk to the ghost.”

  I froze, glancing around worriedly. Had anyone heard her?

  “What ghost?” Terry asked, not missing a beat. He was aware of Bay’s abilities, and he didn’t once question them or cast aspersions on her.

  “It’s some woman.”

  “Do you recognize her?” I asked.

  Bay shook her head. “She’s not fully formed. She’s either new or hiding.”

  I was caught. People thought Bay was weird because she walked around all day talking to herself. In reality, she was talking to the ghosts that only she and Aunt Tillie could see. I didn’t want to change who she was, but I also didn’t want to give Lila and Rosemary any excuses to go after her. “I’m not sure … .”

  “It’s fine,” Terry said, patting the top of her head. “We’ll keep everyone away from you. Just keep it quiet.”

  Bay nodded at him, the smile she shot him so earnest it almost broke my heart. “Okay.” She shuffled off.

  When she was gone, I turned to Terry. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  “I think she’s a good person,” he said. “You have to let her be who she is. This is who she is.”

  He was right, but letting her go off by herself still felt wrong.

  Three

  “Maybe I should take her home.”

  I knew the words were a mistake as soon as I uttered them. Still, something in my heart warned me that Bay shouldn’t be here.

  “You can’t take her home,” Marnie said, keeping her voice low. “She’s already here. If she leaves now, everyone will know that something happened. It will only draw more attention to her.”

  “Marnie is right,” Twila said. “If Bay leaves now, Lila will think she drove her away and that will give her power.”

  “I don’t really care about power,” I said. “I care about Bay. Can’t she have one weekend without a ghost showing up to ruin everything?”

  “Nothing has been ruined,” Marnie said. “Everyone is having a good time.”

  I looked toward the lake where Bay walked the shoreline, her head down so no one could see her lips moving. She was making a big show about studying the rocks on the ground, but I knew what she was doing. A quick glance in Clove and Thistle’s direction told me they knew, too. They were heading in our direction.

  “Where are you two going?” Marnie asked, snagging Thistle’s arm when she tried to move around her.

  “We’re going to hang out with Bay,” Thistle said. “She shouldn’t be over there alone.”

  �
��She’s looking at the rocks.”

  “We all know that’s not what she’s doing,” Thistle said, yanking her arm away.

  “Just leave her alone,” I said. “We don’t want to draw attention to her.”

  “That’s why we should be over there,” Clove said. “People will think she’s talking to us.”

  I gave in, mostly because what Clove said made sense. “Go ahead, but don’t interrupt Bay.”

  “We’re not two years old,” Thistle said. “We know the drill.”

  “Thank you, Thistle,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.” Thistle and Clove scampered off, and I watched them take up position near Bay. They immediately launched into some conversation only they could hear. Bay barely acknowledged their presence.

  “She’s pretty intent on whatever she’s doing,” Twila said. “Who do you think she’s talking with?”

  That was a pretty good question. “I don’t know. No one lives out here. Has anyone ever died out here?”

  “I have no idea,” Marnie said. “If the ghost is new, maybe we should be looking for a body.”

  “It’s probably old,” I said. “Who would have died out here recently?”

  “Well, Donna Wilder is missing,” Twila said.

  My heart rolled and I shifted slightly so I could study Twila. When she’s the one who comes up with the answer, you know you’re in trouble. “You don’t think it’s Donna, do you?”

  “She’s been missing for more than a week now,” Marnie said. “Maybe she came up here to get the camp in order and … I don’t know … something happened to her.”

  “Usually people only come back as ghosts if something violent happened to them,” I pointed out. “Are you saying you think she was murdered?”

  “Calm down,” Marnie chided. “We don’t even know it’s Donna. We’ll talk to Bay later and see whether she knows who it is. We can’t freak out before we know what we’re dealing with.”

  “I’m not freaking out.”

  “You always freak out.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do, too.”

  “We all freak out,” Twila said, stepping between us in an attempt to keep the peace. “We can’t do this now. We have to focus on the camp. That’s our main job for now.”