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A few days later, everyone was congregated at the inn for dinner. The children had left the day before – even though my mom had suggested adopting them all – and were on their way to new homes.

  After some research, Chief Terry found that all of the children had been conveniently “lost” in the state foster system. The state police had raided the office responsible for placing all the children and taken three people into custody.

  After a few hours of questioning, the office drones had rolled over on the entire operation. Within a twenty-four hour period, the Coast Guard had conducted five different raids and saved twenty-five more children – including a little girl named Ava. The story had made national news – and the front page of The Whistler that week, of course.

  Karen and Dean had been taken into custody and were facing federal charges – including the death penalty. Gracie’s mother had died in the hospital, and I could only hope that she had passed on to wherever it was that Gracie had gone when she blinked out of our world and travelled to another.

  It had been a busy few days, so I had no idea how Uncle Warren was taking the revelation about Karen. I had a feeling another uncomfortable visit to the Dragonfly was in our immediate future. That was a concern for another day, though.

  My mom and aunts had insisted on a celebratory dinner once their first big group of the season had vacated the inn. We had another small lull – but only for about three days before the season really got into swing.

  “This smells great,” Chief Terry said enthusiastically as my mom slipped a dish of short ribs onto the table in front of him.

  “Well, you did request it,” my mom winked as she sat down in the chair next to him two seconds before Marnie could try and snake it from her. Twila scooted into the seat on his left and Marnie shot her a hateful glare before finally sitting in a chair farther down the table.

  “He earned it,” I corrected.

  Landon slung his arm around the back of my chair and rubbed my shoulder appreciatively. “So a head wound doesn’t equate earning it?”

  “Yeah, you guys had a really busy couple of days,” Brian said. “You’re heroes again.”

  “I wouldn’t call us heroes,” Clove said. “Just concerned citizens.” She flashed a smile in Sam’s direction and he returned it warmly.

  Thistle rolled her eyes. “I would call us heroes.”

  “Of course you would,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “Where’s your boyfriend?” Thistle asked pointedly.

  “He is not my boyfriend! How many times do I have to tell you people that?”

  “Just until it starts sounding like the truth,” Thistle replied sweetly.

  I decided to change the subject. “So, I guess the refurbishment of the Dandridge is off the menu,” I said. “That’s too bad. Dean may have been a psycho, but that was still a great idea.”

  “It’s actually moving forward,” Chief Terry said nervously, casting a glance in Sam’s direction at the end of the table. “Another interested party stepped forward to continue on with the project.”

  “Who?” Landon asked suspiciously.

  “That would be me,” Sam said, a wide smile spreading across his face.

  “You?” Thistle looked nonplussed. “Why you?”

  “Well, after careful consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that expanding The Whistler’s distribution just isn’t a viable option,” Sam started.

  “Humph,” Aunt Tillie muttered. “We could have saved you some time if you would have listened to us from the start.”

  “Yes, well,” Sam brushed off Aunt Tillie’s statement. “I found that I love the area so much that I don’t want to leave. With this opportunity opening up at the Dandridge, I thought a change of occupation might be in order.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Clove said warmly. I could already see visions of white dresses and hot sex with Sam dancing in her head. “That means you’ll be living here now.”

  “I think it’s a stupid idea,” Thistle grumbled. “What do you know about running a business?”

  “More than you when you opened your store I would suspect,” Sam said pointedly.

  Thistle blew out a raspberry and stuck her tongue out at Sam.

  “I find it interesting that you decided to land here,” Landon said, staring daggers into Sam. “This doesn’t seem like an area where a big city guy like yourself would want to live.”

  “This area has a lot to offer,” Sam replied. “Who doesn’t love nature?”

  Clove raised her hand quickly and then nervously pulled it back down.

  “And then there’s the rich history of this area,” Sam pressed. “I can’t wait to explore it some more.”

  “Well, good luck then,” I said briefly, shrugging off the chill that ran through my body at his pointed words.

  “I assume that means you’ll be getting your own place?” Aunt Tillie asked hopefully.

  “I’ll be moving into the living quarters at the Dandridge,” Sam agreed. “It’s going to be a few weeks before that’s ready, though. I have some things to take care of down state but I’ll be back in a few weeks when all that is taken care of. It will really be perfect timing.”

  “Well, that sounds nice,” Twila said.

  “For who?” Aunt Tillie asked dryly.

  “Let’s eat,” my mom ordered tensely. “This is a celebration.”

  We all did as we were told, but the meal couldn’t exactly be classified as comfortable. When we were done, Landon suggested going for a walk. “Our jackets are in the back.”

  “I’ll get them. You wait for me here.” He dropped a kiss on my brow and then slipped back into the inn, leaving me alone in the front foyer. I wasn’t alone for very long, though.

  “That was another interesting dinner.”

  I turned and fixed Sam with a tight smile. “Well, at least you can say we’re all interesting.”

  “Among other things,” Sam agreed, his eyes probing.

  “What other things?” I asked innocently.

  “Well, I mean, I keep learning more and more about you guys the more time I spend here,” Sam said coyly. “For example, several nights ago I was walking around the grounds at night – just to get some fresh air – and I saw a group of people in a weird clearing.”

  My heart started pounding in my chest. I knew I had heard someone else out there that night.

  “I would expect nothing different from a coven of witches, though,” Sam said, smiling widely. “So, yeah, I’m really looking forward to living here.”

  I felt all the air whoosh out of me as a lightheaded fog descend on my brain. Crap.

  Author’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  If you like the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. Just a few sentences would be great. As an independent author, we live (and die) on reviews, so even a short one can help.

  You can follow me on Twitter at @yodaoneforme or on Facebook at Amanda M. Lee. And, since I hate spam, you don’t have to worry about me constantly bombarding you with links trying to hawk my books.

  Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work.

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  Avery Shaw Mysteries

  Who, What, Where, When, Die

  If it Bleeds, it Leads

  Buried Leads

  Shot off the Presses

  Covenant College Mysteries

  Awakening (Book One)

  Whispering (Book Two)

  Conjuring (Coming Summer 2014)

  Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mysteries

  Any Witch Way You Can

  Every Witch Way But Wicked

  Witching You Were Here

  Witching On A Star (coming March 2014)

  ; Amanda M. Lee, 4 Witching On A Star