Something to Witch About (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 5) Read online

  “Because of Calvin,” Mom said simply.

  “Uncle Calvin has been dead for almost three decades,” I said. “I think he’d be okay with it.”

  “He would,” Mom agreed. “That doesn’t mean she’s okay with it.”

  The women in my family give me a headache sometimes.

  Mom sighed. “Aunt Tillie married for life. Uncle Calvin was her life. She doesn’t want a new one.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a new one,” I said. “It can be the same life, just with enhancements.”

  “That’s what she’s figuring out,” Marnie said. “She’s got to figure it out on her own, though. We can’t make her figure it out.”

  Well, great.

  “I’m going to go find her,” I said.

  “Why?” Mom glanced up from the dough she was kneading. “What’s going on?”

  “I need to talk to her about Floyd,” I said. “Landon’s family is gone for the afternoon. I won’t get a better chance in the next few days.”

  “Why are you so caught up in this Floyd business?”

  Was she serious? “Because his body was found on our property.”

  “He’s been dead a long time,” Marnie said.

  “And yet his poltergeist is knocking me off horses,” I grumbled.

  “That is problematic,” Mom agreed. “Hopefully, in time, he’ll just dissipate.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “Then we’ll have to deal with him,” Mom said. “We can’t do anything until Landon’s family leaves, though. Can you imagine what they would think if they caught us performing a ritual? They already think we’re halfway crazy.”

  Halfway was being generous.

  “I’m going to talk to her.”

  Mom wiped her hands on her towel. “You have to do what you have to do,” she said. “Keep in mind, Aunt Tillie has to do what she has to do, too. Neither one of you is going to win here.”

  “It’s not about winning. It’s about knowing.”

  “In this instance, I think they’re one and the same.”

  I FOUND Aunt Tillie sitting on a fallen log next to her field. She wasn’t alone. Marcus was there, running the rototiller through the ground to make it easier for her to plant a crop in the next few weeks. He was so busy he hadn’t noticed my arrival. I still wasn’t sure how Aunt Tillie had coerced him into helping. I had a feeling threats were involved.

  Aunt Tillie looked up when she caught sight of me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  “Why? Do you need another potion?”

  “No, I’m feeling much better. Thank you.”

  Aunt Tillie nodded, grunting in acknowledgement. “Why aren’t you with Landon?”

  “He’s with his family in town,” I replied.

  “I’m surprised he let you off on your own today,” Aunt Tillie said. “He’s been your shadow for days now.”

  “He’s been a little protective,” I agreed, sitting down on the log next to her. “He’s better today.”

  “You were smart to let him be,” Aunt Tillie said. “When a man gets like that it’s never wise to start a fight with them. It’s better to just let them work those things out on their own.”

  “Did Uncle Calvin get like that?”

  “From time to time.” Aunt Tillie had a small smile on her face. “He learned pretty quickly that I couldn’t take being smothered, though. He adjusted his attitude accordingly after that.”

  “Landon wasn’t smothering me,” I said. “He was just really … present.”

  “That’s not a bad thing.”

  “No.”

  “I like him better now, in fact.”

  “You always liked him,” I argued.

  “He makes me laugh,” Aunt Tillie admitted. “He reminds me of your Uncle Calvin in some ways – although he’s a lot feistier. He can’t be bullied as easily either, and in our family that’s probably a good thing.”

  “No, he can’t be bullied.”

  “He’s a good match for you, no matter what your father thinks.”

  “I don’t think Dad was really upset about Landon,” I said. “I think he was really upset about Chief Terry being there.”

  “You’re smarter than you look.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant as one.”

  We lapsed into a comfortable silence, Aunt Tillie finally turning to give me a long look. “Why are you out here? Really?”

  “I talked to Mrs. Little today,” I said. “I wanted to ask her about the baby.”

  “That was a tragedy,” Aunt Tillie said. “You shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “I needed answers.”

  “Did you find any?”

  “No.”

  “Then it was a wasted effort,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “Mrs. Little says I’m so worried about proving you’re not a murderer I don’t care who else I accuse during the process.”

  Aunt Tillie scowled. “She always was an idiot.”

  “I’m worried she’s right.”

  “She’s not.”

  “You know, if you killed Floyd to save Mrs. Gunderson, that makes you a hero, not a murderer.”

  “And if I killed Floyd I would admit it and take credit for it,” Aunt Tillie said. “The world is a better place without Floyd Gunderson in it.”

  I could believe that.

  “If Mrs. Gunderson killed Floyd because of what he was doing to her, Chief Terry would understand,” I offered.

  “I know that.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “You’ll have to ask her.”

  This was like pulling teeth.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the truth will come out when it’s time,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “And it’s not time now?”

  “No.”

  “Then when?”

  “When it’s time.”

  She is so frustrating sometimes. I decided to try a different tactic. “What are you going to do about Kenneth?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You obviously like him,” I said.

  “I do not.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s a nice guy.”

  “He’s an idiot.”

  “Maybe he should date Mrs. Little,” I suggested.

  “Don’t try to be funny. It doesn’t work for you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Aunt Tillie got to her feet. “I should get back to work.”

  I watched her go. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to tell the truth.”

  Aunt Tillie didn’t bother looking back. “When the truth comes, I won’t be the one telling it to you.”

  What was that supposed to mean?

  Thirty-Two

  “Did you find her?”

  Mom and my aunts were still in the kitchen when I returned to the inn. “I found her.”

  “What is she doing?”

  “Watching Marcus till her field,” I said. “Does anyone know how she got Marcus involved in all of this?”

  “I’m guessing the same way she gets anyone to do what she wants,” Marnie said.

  “Threats?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m surprised Thistle doesn’t put up a fight about it,” I said.

  “I think that Thistle is just happy they get along,” Mom said. “If Aunt Tillie didn’t like Marcus, there would be a whole other batch of problems to deal with.”

  “You mean besides illegally growing pot?”

  Mom shrugged. “It’s not like she’s hurting anyone. Watch the news. People like pot now.”

  I didn’t think Landon would see it that way. I ambled over to the counter to see what they were working on now. “What’s that?”

  “We’re making some homemade salsa,” Mom said. “We plan on having Mexican night once a week over
the spring and summer. We’re making all the salsa now, before we get really busy.”

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “All my ideas are good,” Mom sniffed.

  That’s the problem with this family. Everyone thinks their ideas are the best. “Well, I guess I’m going to go back down to the guesthouse to get some work done.”

  “I thought you were off this week?”

  “I am. With Landon and his family gone for the afternoon, though, it will give me a chance to get ahead for next week.”

  “I suppose that’s smart,” Mom said. “Before you go, though, there’s someone waiting for you in the dining room.”

  Uh-oh. This sounded like a trick. “Who?”

  Mom shrugged, avoiding my pointed gaze. “You’ll have to see for yourself.”

  “Yeah, I’m not twelve anymore,” I said. “That’s not going to work. The last time you tried pulling this was right after I first moved back home and you tried to set me up with Connor Ridgeway.”

  “Connor was a perfectly nice boy,” Mom said. “There was no need to smack him the way you did.”

  “He collects snakes.”

  “Everyone needs a hobby.”

  “He asked me if I wanted to see his trouser snake,” I said, catching Marnie’s small smile behind my mom’s back.

  “It’s a weird hobby,” Mom said. “You could’ve looked at his snake.”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Do you know what a trouser snake is?”

  “No. I’m sure it wasn’t poisonous, though.”

  “Yeah, I want you to think on that one after I’ve gone,” I said. “If you still don’t get it in an hour, Marnie can explain it to you. I’m leaving out the back, by the way.”

  “Oh no you’re not,” Mom said, dropping her knife on the counter and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re going out into the dining room. Your guest has been waiting for you for thirty minutes.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.” I started to struggle against Mom’s hands. She’s stronger than she looks. It took her two minutes, but with a little help from her sisters she finally managed to wrestle me into the dining room.

  Connie was sitting at the table, sipping from an antique teacup, watching me with unreadable eyes as I stumbled through the door. Crap. This was worse than Connor Ridgeway and his trouser snake. “Mrs. Michaels, I didn’t realize you were in here.”

  “Then why were you fighting so hard to stay in there?”

  I didn’t think explaining about the trouser snake was going to help this situation. “My mom has a bad track record when it comes to setting me up for surprise afternoon teas.”

  “I see.” She took another sip, never moving her eyes from me. “Don’t you want to sit down and join me?”

  I’d rather help Marcus till an illegal garden. “Sure.”

  Once I was settled across from her, my own cup of tea steaming in front of me, I had no choice but to meet her gaze. “I thought you were off with Landon for the afternoon.”

  “I was,” Connie said. “Then, I realized, the only thing I haven’t done since coming to Hemlock Cove is spend any time with you.”

  “That’s not true,” I protested. “We’ve sat through more uncomfortable meals than I can even count.”

  Connie laughed. It was small, but it was still a laugh. “I guess that’s true.” Connie sipped again. “When Landon first told us he wanted us to come for a visit, I wasn’t sure.”

  I remained silent. I’d been waiting for this since our first introduction. She was about to tell me why I was a bad match for Landon. I steeled myself for the inevitable.

  “Landon hasn’t shown real interest in anyone for quite a while,” Connie continued. “I figured you had to be something special.”

  Ah, so this was disappointment – not outright dislike – fueling her mood. “I’m sorry I’m not what you wanted for Landon.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Connie cautioned. “You definitely weren’t what I expected, though. My son has always had … peculiar tastes. Still, the women we’ve met – which haven’t been many, mind you – have all been superficial lookers with absolutely no substance.”

  Huh. That definitely wasn’t me.

  “I think he did it on purpose,” Connie said. “He wanted to bring home someone he thought I would like but who he couldn’t possibly see a future with. I knew there was something different about you before I even met you.”

  “How so?”

  “The first time he brought you up I didn’t know what to think,” Connie said. “I could tell there was something different about this situation right away.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said you were loud, immature and completely oblivious to the feelings of others.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

  “Really?” I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “He said you didn’t listen, you didn’t do what you were told and you made him want to pull his hair out and beat his head against the wall,” Connie said.

  I could see that. “Well, I did get him shot.”

  Connie tilted her head. “I’m sorry I said that to you. I had no idea that he’d been hurt. I was … thrown. Landon has explained things, and I’m thankful you were there to save him.”

  He explained things? It sounded like he’d gussied things up, not explained them. “I think everyone saved each other that night.”

  “Perhaps,” Connie said, sipping her tea again. “The more I see of you, though, I think you’re stronger than you look. You would have to be, of course, growing up in this family. They would expect nothing less.”

  “The Winchesters definitely have big personalities.”

  “They do indeed,” Connie said. “They’re also loyal and … odd.”

  I don’t think any family that claims Aunt Blanche should be using the word “odd” in anything other than an ironic way. “Aunt Tillie prefers the term eccentric.”

  “Your family is what it is,” Connie said. “They’re warm and funny … and hiding something.”

  Uh-oh. I sipped my tea to give myself a second to form a response. “We don’t really hide things,” I said. “We put everything out there and then handle the fallout.” That was mostly true.

  “So, you’re saying nothing else has been going on this week?”

  “Well, the bones being discovered on the property did screw everything up,” I admitted. “I really wish we could’ve put that off for the week. That wasn’t the first impression I was hoping to make.”

  Connie pursed her lips, considering. “Were you worried about making a good first impression?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Landon’s family is important to him. He’s important to me. I wanted you to like me.”

  “You’re very important to Landon,” Connie said. “I think … I think I didn’t want to like you because you were so important to him.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “No one wants to admit their child is an adult who can make his own decisions,” Connie said. “Even when your child works for the FBI and is in danger constantly, you still like to believe that he finds comfort with his mother. I wanted to think I was still the most important woman in his life.”

  “I can see that,” I hedged.

  “He doesn’t find comfort with his family now, though,” Connie said. “He finds it with you and your family and, more importantly, he wants to give you comfort.”

  “I don’t think he wants to comfort Aunt Tillie,” I said, going for levity.

  “And yet, when you were missing, he was the one sitting with Aunt Tillie while she threw an absolute fit,” Connie replied. “He took her out back and talked to her. I couldn’t hear what they said but whatever your Aunt Tillie had planned had her so worked up that she could barely speak. He sat out there with her for twenty minutes, even though I’m sure he wanted to be out looking for you. If that’s not comfort, I don’t know what is.”


  Huh. No one had told me about that little interlude. “He’s a good man.”

  “He is,” Connie agreed. “He seems to have found a good match in you.”

  I definitely wasn’t expecting that. “Forgive me for saying this, but I can’t help but think you don’t like me.”

  “I don’t dislike you,” Connie said. “You worry me – or at least you did at first.”

  “How so?”

  “If you look at things from my point of view, the first thing I saw was a woman hiding in the kitchen because she didn’t want to meet her boyfriend’s family,” Connie said.

  “I wasn’t hiding.”

  “You were hiding. I don’t really blame you. Then, minutes later, there was a body found on the property and Landon wanted you to go out there with him,” Connie said. “That seemed odd to me.”

  “I’m generally the most rational under pressure,” I said. It’s true -- kind of.

  “Then something obviously happened out there, because you two disappeared for a while, and when you came back you were white as a sheet and Landon was hovering around you like a worried mother hen.”

  “We fell in the hole.” It was a lame response, but it’s not as though I could tell her the truth.

  “Then I noticed you and Thistle were constantly hiding in corners and whispering about something,” Connie continued. “You were trying to talk to Aunt Tillie about something and she was putting you off. Landon has been hiding something, too.”

  “I just think he was upset about the bones.”

  Connie brushed off my explanation. “At first, I thought Landon was trying to hide something from us, something he didn’t want us to know about. Then I realized he wasn’t hiding anything. He was protecting you … well, your family to be more precise.”

  This conversation was veering into the uncomfortable far too quickly. “I think he just didn’t want you to think badly of Aunt Tillie.”

  “Maybe,” Connie said. “I think he’s trying to help you figure something out, though. Whether it’s that your aunt is a murderer – which I don’t believe, for the record – or that there’s some big secret here, I’m not sure.”

  “If you want to know the truth, I don’t know what to say about Aunt Tillie right now,” I said. “It’s a mess. I don’t know when it will get sorted out. I’m only sorry you’ve had to bear witness to our … family stuff.”