A Witch Before Dying (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 11) Read online

  “But … we saw her in the woods with Greg.”

  “She might be playing with Greg’s emotions, but she’s glommed onto Arthur for the money,” Adele countered. “She probably thinks she has a clear shot at the lead spot now. That just figures.”

  I shifted my eyes to Landon, conflicted. “Well … I think I have more suspects for you.”

  “I can’t wait to hear about it.”

  “You might think differently when I’m done.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  I did just that. When I was finished, Landon was horrified.

  “She’s sleeping with her fake uncle and her fake cousin? I’m going to be sick.”

  “I told you.”

  Landon rubbed the back of his neck. “Adele was right, by the way. Nobody likes a know-it-all.”

  “Except you, right?”

  “Meh. I happen to love one. You’re still a pain in the butt.” He rested his cheek against my head. “This whole thing keeps getting more and more twisted.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I just said you were a know-it-all.”

  “If you’re not careful this know-it-all will make sure Mom yanks bacon from the breakfast menu for the foreseeable future,” I warned.

  “Have I mentioned how much I love know-it-alls?”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Twenty-Three

  I slept hard, my head resting on Landon’s shoulder as I curled into him. He woke me with a kiss and a wink – and a little morning fun – before we showered and headed to the inn for breakfast.

  Aunt Tillie sat on the couch in front of the television, her attention focused on a book resting on her knees as she kibitzed at the television.

  “No one cares about that stupid story,” Aunt Tillie muttered, not bothering to glance in our direction. “Give me some real news. Real news is not some moron in New York turning one-hundred years old.”

  “I see you’re feeling chipper this morning,” Landon said, grinning as he moved to the side of the couch. “I worried you might be hungover after last night, but you look pretty together.”

  “Of course I’m together,” Aunt Tillie scoffed. “I’m always together.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but … okay.” Landon shifted his eyes to the book on Aunt Tillie’s lap. “What’s that?”

  “It’s a history book,” Aunt Tillie replied. “I’m researching Cornish witchcraft.”

  “Did you find anything?” I asked.

  “Nothing that will help us in our war against Scarlet Darksbane. But it’s interesting. They tend to believe the same tenets we do.”

  “That’s what Thistle said. I kind of forgot about all of that with everything that happened over dinner last night.”

  “I thought dinner was delightful.” Aunt Tillie’s smile was a mix between serene and snarky. “It’s one of my favorite interludes ever.”

  “Do you keep a list?” Landon asked.

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know it was one of your favorites?”

  “The same way you keep track of your favorite Bay memories,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Sometimes you just know.”

  “I guess you do.” Landon offered me an easy grin before shuffling toward the door. “I’m sure you have things to discuss with Aunt Tillie. Whatever you’re planning for the day, try to remember that I might not be able to get to you right away if you’re arrested.”

  “Chief Terry won’t arrest me.” I was almost positive that was true. “He’ll simply pretend he doesn’t hear the complaints when Mrs. Little and Scarlet lodge them.”

  “You have a point. Don’t be too long.”

  I watched Landon disappear through the door, waiting until it was just the two of us to sit next to Aunt Tillie. “What are you really looking for in that book?”

  Aunt Tillie adopted an innocent expression. “I just told you.”

  “And I know when you’re lying.”

  “How?”

  “I grew up with you. If I remember correctly, you once schooled us on how to lie.”

  Aunt Tillie broke out in a wide smile. “I forgot about that. Thistle was a natural. Clove piled it on too thick. You, though, you had days when you were really good at it and others when you were really bad.”

  “And what does that tell you?”

  “That you’re an inherently honest person with faults who can lie when necessary,” Aunt Tillie replied. “That’s the best way to be.”

  “Good to know.” I tapped the open page of the book. “Tell me what you’ve found.”

  “It’s not much,” Aunt Tillie cautioned. “I’m just reacquainting myself with some of the tenets.”

  “It says here that Cornish witchcraft is also referred to as traditional witchcraft,” I noted. “What does that mean?”

  “You were raised in a witch house where we had our own rules, but you’ll find traditional witchcraft isn’t all that different from what we espoused,” Aunt Tillie explained. “It’s essentially a pre-modern form of the craft.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that Cornish witches like old traditions and eschew modern trappings,” Aunt Tillie supplied. “They also can be broken down into the traditions they believe in, like Feri, Cochrane’s Craft and Sabbatic craft.”

  “None of those things mean anything to me.”

  “That’s because you only embraced the spells and never the history. Feri is distinct from Wicca. There’s a strong emphasis placed on sexual mysticism.”

  I raised an eyebrow, amused. “Don’t mention that to Landon. He’ll want to convert.”

  “He does have a perverted streak,” Aunt Tillie agreed. “Cochrane’s Craft focuses on the horned god and mother goddess. There are also some groups that embrace polytheism. We’ve never much gone for that.”

  “You told me when I was a kid that the only good horned god was a dead horned god.”

  “I was trying to teach you a lesson about horny gods,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “I found out you were a bit too young at the time to absorb the lesson and your mother wasn’t happy when you repeated it to her.”

  “Ah. I kind of remember that.”

  “Yeah, it was always in one ear and out the other with you when you were a kid,” Aunt Tillie said. “The other group is the Sabbatic craft group. They’re more like us. They embrace Sabbaths and ritual gatherings, although the ones they held back in the day are nothing compared to what we practice now.”

  “Okay, but what does all this mean?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Aunt Tillie admitted. “I’m not sure what to make of it. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Scarlet Darksbane has a Cornish spell book. There must be a reason behind it.”

  “Maybe she’s really a witch.”

  “Maybe, but the woman I saw at that table last night was not one who boasted real power,” Aunt Tillie said. “She’s a charlatan as far as I can tell. All of her power comes from manipulating others and making them believe she has magic.”

  “That’s different from what we do,” I mused. “We don’t want anyone to know we have legitimate power. We spend all of our time hiding it.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I don’t care who knows that I have power.”

  I almost believed that. Memories of her warning us not to show off when we were in high school pushed to the forefront and ruined the illusion. “I think part of you believes that. You didn’t always think that way.”

  “No. I told you those things to protect you. I didn’t care about protecting myself.”

  “And now?”

  “And now you don’t need protection,” Aunt Tillie said. “You can take care of yourself. You’ve proved it time and again. Thistle and Clove, too. You grew into a strong woman – and I may change my mind the next time you annoy me – but you’re a decent witch, too.”

  My heart warmed at the simple statement. “Wow. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”


  “Don’t let it go to your head,” Aunt Tillie chided. “You’re not as strong as you could be. It’s because you don’t apply yourself. When I’m gone, there will be no one left to teach the old ways. Your mother and aunts never embraced it. I have higher hopes for you and your cousins.”

  “You’ll never leave us. You’re too mean to die.”

  “Everyone dies, Bay. I’m no exception. I’ve got decades before that happens, though. Don’t worry. I’ll still be around when your kids need someone to teach them about magic … and mischief.”

  I hoped that was true.

  “But I can’t figure out what’s going on with this Scarlet woman,” she continued. “We don’t know her real name, so it’s impossible to trace her lineage. Landon is busy with the murder – and that should take precedence – but we need to figure out exactly who she used to be.”

  “Maybe we don’t need Landon to do it,” I suggested. “Maybe we only need to find someone who knew her.”

  “And how do we do that?”

  “That message board. There were a ton of people who knew her in different places. We can contact them.”

  Aunt Tillie brightened. “See. Right there!” She waved a finger in my face. “That’s a good idea. You’re smarter than you look.”

  “Don’t ruin our moment,” I warned, getting to my feet. “We’ll talk after breakfast. I’m sure we can find a place to look.”

  Aunt Tillie smiled as she followed me. “This day is certainly looking up.”

  The fact that she thought so was utterly frightening.

  CHIEF TERRY WALKED into the dining room as Aunt Tillie and I stepped through the swinging door. His smile was warm and friendly when he gave me a half-hug before sitting.

  “You look like you’re up to no good. Whatever it is, I don’t want to know about it.”

  Thistle lifted her head at the end of the table, meeting my gaze. “Have you been plotting with Aunt Tillie without me?” Her tone was accusatory. “You know that’s the only time I like to spend with her. How could you cut me out?”

  “It was spur of the moment,” I said. “I’m sorry. Don’t worry, you’re definitely part of our plan.”

  Thistle wasn’t appeased. “I might not want to join you now.”

  “Oh, you’ll want to join us,” I countered. “Trust me.”

  “What about me?” Clove asked, her expression mistrustful. “Are you going to leave me out of this adventure?”

  “Of course not.”

  “We need someone to drive,” Aunt Tillie added. “You’re a decent driver.”

  Clove was annoyed. “You only want me because I can drive?”

  Aunt Tillie tilted her head to the side, considering. “You’re also good when we need to manipulate people with tears. That might come in handy today.”

  “Whatever.” Clove rolled her eyes. “We all know I’m only going because I don’t like being left out.”

  “So why are you complaining?” Aunt Tillie challenged.

  “Because that’s what I do.”

  “Fair enough.”

  I filled my plate with scrambled eggs, hash browns, sausage links and toast, and glanced around the table. It was only family and friends this morning, which I found suspect. “Where are the renaissance people?”

  “They had a work meeting this morning,” Mom replied. “Apparently they have to be in town early because the new festival opens tonight.”

  That had totally slipped my mind. “Mrs. Little is serious about making sure this thing goes down, huh?”

  “She is,” Mom confirmed. “She’s also apparently giving Scarlet Darksbane a huge tent in the middle of everything. She wants to make sure that Scarlet is introduced to the town properly.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Shelly Watkins told me,” Mom replied. “We were discussing items to provide for the bake sale and she mentioned it.”

  “There’s a bake sale, too?” Landon was intrigued. “What are you making?”

  Mom shot him a fond smile. “Blackberry pie and pumpkin pie.”

  “Yum.” Landon darted his eyes to me. “We’re definitely going to the bake sale.”

  “That’s fine.” I shifted on my chair. “What are you doing today?”

  “What we’ve been doing,” Landon replied. “We’re going to question and watch the workers. They’re still our best shot at figuring out who murdered Adele. With the added information you gave me last night, we have a particular place to look today.”

  “What information is that?” Chief Terry asked.

  I related my conversation with Adele’s spirit. The renaissance workers were out, so there was no need to hide it. “So, basically she claimed she was well-loved even though she treated her employees like crap, but then accused Tess of sleeping with her husband.”

  “From what you just said, it sounds like Adele didn’t love her husband,” Chief Terry noted. “It was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been giving that some additional thought,” I said. “She said that he had a wandering eye. I get the feeling it wandered with more people than Tess. Maybe they did marry for love at the beginning – or at least love on her part – and opted to stay together even though he cheated on her. I have no proof that’s the case, because Adele isn’t exactly honest when she tells me things, but it’s a weird feeling I’ve got.

  “That’s my guess. I could be wrong. Adele doesn’t exactly have a rock-solid view of herself. She paints herself as this benevolent leader and misunderstood soul, someone who really tried to do good by everyone she encountered but failed because of their weaknesses, not her own.”

  “That’s interesting,” Landon said. “I watched you when you spoke with her last night. You seemed frustrated with her attitude.”

  “Oh, I was definitely frustrated with her attitude,” I agreed. “She meanders all over the place during a conversation. I think it was important to her to be loved, but she misconstrued fear with love. She wanted her underlings to love her, maybe even revere her. When they didn’t, she settled for fear. I think she was a tyrant of sorts.”

  “Which means it could be any worker – past or present – who targeted her for death,” Chief Terry said. “I’m guessing the killer didn’t plan it.”

  “I’ve been thinking that, too,” Landon said. “I think she ticked someone off, he or she killed her, then panicked and painted the symbols. The killer thought he could get away with it because he was in a witch town. It was probably a solid rationalization at the time.”

  “The added problem we have now is that we’re on a timetable,” Chief Terry said. “Thanks to Margaret Little, these people are stuck in town until Sunday. That’s only three days. After that, they’ll be leaving and taking our entire suspect pool with them.”

  “And once they leave they’ll have the freedom to run,” Landon added. “We don’t have a lot of time, and we have far too many suspects.”

  “You have Tess and Arthur,” I pointed out. “From what Adele said last night, they seem like the most logical choices.”

  “And they’ll be the people we question first,” Chief Terry said. “If they don’t crack, we’re simply going to have to watch them to see what we can discover. Maybe Greg will be willing to squeal – or at least tell us something we don’t already know – if we ask him about Tess’s extracurricular activities with Arthur.”

  “I look for Arthur to clam up if we question him about Tess,” Landon said. “He’s not the type to admit to anything. He’ll probably deny it.”

  “Then maybe we should question them separately,” Chief Terry suggested. “They’ll both be in the town square, so we can each take one of them. We can at least force them to nail down alibis and then compare them.”

  “You think they killed her together?” I asked, horrified.

  “I have no idea,” Chief Terry replied. “There’s absolutely no way of knowing right now.”

  “At least we have a plan.” Lando
n bit into a slice of bacon and turned to me. “What are you going to do today? I know you have something planned with Aunt Tillie, but it would be helpful if I knew what. I don’t want to worry about you ticking off a potential murderer.”

  “We won’t be dealing with the Twiggs today,” I said. “I figure that’s your job.”

  “I’m happy that you’re staying out of it. What are you going to do?”

  “We’re tracking down some of the people Scarlet scammed and talking to them so we can find out more about her,” I replied. “We’ll be busy with our own adventure.”

  Landon opened his mouth, his mind clearly busy. For a moment I thought he would try to dissuade me from my course of action. Instead, he merely nodded. “Have fun. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

  “Would I get into trouble?”

  “Absolutely. Even if you wouldn’t, you’re taking Aunt Tillie with you.”

  “That’s because I’m a master interrogator,” Aunt Tillie said. “Trust me. We’ll know everything there is to know about Scarlet Darksbane by the end of the day. I’ll crack those scammed women like rotten nuts.”

  “And I can’t wait to hear your report,” Landon said, waiting until Aunt Tillie focused on her breakfast to lower his voice. “Don’t get arrested or terrorize a bunch of people, Bay. Try to be low key when you question these people. They’re probably not going to be open to witches, especially after what Scarlet did to them.”

  “It will be fine,” I said. “We know what we’re doing. It will be smooth sailing.”

  “That will be a nice change of pace.”

  Twenty-Four

  “Are we there yet?”

  Thistle sat in the backseat of Clove’s car with me, her eyes lit with mischief as she stared at Aunt Tillie in the passenger seat. We were almost two hours into our trip and we were starting to get antsy.

  “We’ll be there in ten minutes.” Clove focused on the road. The traffic in Grand Rapids was busier than we were used to. “You have the address for where we’re meeting this woman, right?”