Witchy Dreams Read online

  “Keep an eye on them,” I urged her.

  “Oh, I will.” She started moving in their direction purposefully.

  I couldn’t help but smirk to myself as I pictured the conversation Mrs. Little would have with the men. I hoped they had some knowledge about pewter unicorns. They may think they’re scary – but they didn’t know scary. All five-foot-two of it was stomping its way toward them, though. They were about to find out.

  I tried to put the men out of my mind – all of them – as I made my way into the maze. It really was well constructed, I mused to myself. Instead of just the simple walls of wilting corn, they had set up walls throughout the maze that were constructed of stacked hay bales. It forced visitors to stay on certain paths – and not cut through the corn and risk getting lost. They’d even put lights in all the corners so people could take twilight walks after dark. That was a nice touch. The tourists would love it.

  The maze was about a mile long – and there were a lot of turns that took you absolutely nowhere. After about a half an hour, I’d only made it to the center of the maze.

  I stopped to snap pictures with my iPhone camera as I took in the morbid tableau they’d set up in the center of the maze. There were a number of grotesque scarecrows – with one even being crucified on a cross in the center. I moved up to it, snapping a few pictures as I went.

  When I looked up at the scarecrow, I couldn’t help but cringe.

  “This thing is very realistic, isn’t it?”

  I turned to find Emily, the woman from the inn the night before, standing beside me. “It’s gross,” I admitted.

  Emily reached up to touch it and shrank back. “It feels so real.”

  I turned my attention back to the scarecrow. Something just wasn’t right about it. I glanced around at the other scarecrows and frowned. They didn’t look anything like this one. This one had a weird Mardi Gras mask affixed to it. One of those ones with the colored eyes and long, beaked noses. The rest had simple bags with holes cut out for fake eyes. You could see the hay poking out beneath them.

  Emily was equally transfixed as she regarded the scarecrow on the cross. She reached up and touched the Carhart glove on its hand.

  I don’t know why I did it – even as I was doing it my mind was telling me to walk away – but I ignored the warning in my brain and reached over to strip the glove off. I was expecting to find it stuffed with straw – like the other scarecrows. Instead, I saw a real human hand – stained with blood – in its place.

  For a second, I thought the screaming I was hearing was coming from my own mind. I realized, though, that it was Emily and she’d come to the same conclusion I had.

  This wasn’t a fake scarecrow. It was a very real body.

  Five

  Emily’s screams drew a crowd quickly. Despite her horror fascination the night before, she was quickly dissolving into rampant hysterics. I handed her off to one of the teenage boys working the maze who had come to see what all the fuss was about.

  “Take her to the front of the maze and give her some cider to calm her down,” I instructed him. “Don’t let her leave, though.”

  As he moved to walk away, I grabbed his wrist. “And call the chief,” I said in a low voice. “Get him out here right away.”

  The boy looked at me questioningly. “Is that a real body?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know. We can’t touch the body. That’s for the police to do.”

  The boy swallowed hard and then determinedly grabbed Emily and dragged her from the center of the maze.

  I corralled the other two teenage workers who had come to the scene – despite the fact that I felt like I could pass out at any minute – and instructed them to cordon off the center of the maze. “Don’t let them wander in here. They’ll ruin the evidence,” I instructed.

  Both boys listened to me without complaint. I think they were in shock.

  Once the boys had moved everyone out of the center of the maze, I remained rooted to the ground. This wasn’t the first body I had ever seen. I saw plenty when I was covering the police beat in Detroit. I didn’t expect it in Hemlock Cove, though. Even in the rare cases where there was a murder around here – they usually almost always stemmed from domestic disturbances. The bodies never showed up in the middle of a corn maze.

  Despite my initial surprise, I tried to get a good look at the body without getting too close. I didn’t want to ruin any evidence – although, if I had to guess, this would be a nightmare of a crime scene. People had been traipsing throughout the maze for the past half hour. Excluding suspects wasn’t going to be easy – especially for a police force who had absolutely no experience with murders like this.

  The body – how anyone could have mistaken it for a scarecrow was beyond me – was hanging limply. As the temperatures started to climb, I saw that flies were starting to buzz around it. Still, given the fact that they were just arriving now, I figured the body couldn’t have been here all that long.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  I jumped in surprise. I thought I’d been alone with only my thoughts to keep me company. I turned to find Landon had moved up beside me. His gaze was riveted on the grotesque scarecrow.

  “What are you doing here? I told them to keep people out until the police arrived.” I was a little out of my element here. My conversation skills were taking a monumental hit.

  “I just wanted to see if what everyone said was true,” Landon was staring at the body grimly.

  “It’s a body,” I said simply. “I think it’s a male.”

  “I think you’re right,” Landon agreed. “A young man would be my guess.”

  I slid a gaze suspiciously in his direction. “You didn’t do this, did you?”

  Landon frowned. “You think I killed him?”

  “You guys showed up out of nowhere and now there’s a body. It’s convenient timing.”

  “Do I look like a killer?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t really know you well enough to say. You don’t look like you belong here, though.”

  “Neither do you.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “I grew up here.”

  “You didn’t always live here, though, did you?”

  “No. I lived in Detroit for a few years. How did you know that?”

  “Everyone out there is freaking out because they’ve never seen a body before. You’re a little too calm.”

  I didn’t tell him I was fighting not to lose my morning breakfast on the evidence in the area and further contaminate the scene. “I’m not calm. I’m composed. There’s a difference. This isn’t the first body I’ve seen, though.”

  “You get a lot of bodies strung up in corn mazes?”

  “That’s not what I said,” I protested vehemently. “I just said that I’ve seen other bodies before.”

  “In Detroit?”

  “Yes.”

  Landon raised a hand and placed it reassuringly on my shoulder. “Well, you’re doing a good job of pretending to be in control.”

  “Someone had to take charge,” I argued.

  “I get the feeling you have to be in control, no matter what situation you find yourself in.”

  I wasn’t sure, but I thought I’d probably been insulted. I didn’t get a chance to find out, though, because I could hear voices coming through the maze. I turned to see Chief Terry making his way through the remnants of the crowd who were still milling about the corridor. “Go out to the front of the maze,” he ordered. “My officers have some questions for you.”

  Chief Terry’s gaze met mine as he entered the cleared area where we were standing. “Bay,” he greeted me with a nod. I saw his gaze wash over Landon. He didn’t speak to him directly, though. Instead, he asked me the question that was clearly banging around in his head. “Who is this?”

  “I’m Landon,” Landon stepped forward to shake Chief Terry’s hand. Chief Terry, who stood about two inches shorter than Landon
– and five inches wider – steadfastly ignored it.

  “Who is he?” Chief Terry raised his gray eyebrows as he pointed the question at me, instead of Landon. He was obviously trying to put Landon in his place.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “They were outside of the maze drinking beer before it opened.”

  Landon looked like he wanted to say something but then wisely clamped his mouth shut.

  “Is it really a body?” Chief Terry asked finally. He hadn’t made a move toward the scarecrow.

  “Yeah,” I said. My mouth was dry and the single word came out as a rasp.

  “Do you recognize him?”

  “I didn’t touch the mask,” I said. “I figured you would have a forensic team here to do that.”

  “A forensic team? This isn’t the city.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. Chief Terry had exactly three officers at his command. He didn’t have the resources to investigate something like this. “Maybe you should call the state police?” I didn’t want to offend him, but I didn’t want him to bungle this either. Chief Terry had been the head of the Hemlock Cove Police Department for as long as I could remember. That usually entailed citing underage drinkers, random cow tippers and the occasional drunken driver. I don’t think he’d ever seen anything like this before.

  “I already did,” he said, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  Chief Terry moved over to my side protectively. He was still regarding Landon warily. “Why are you here?” He finally addressed Landon directly.

  “I heard the screams,” Landon said.

  “And you wanted to run to the rescue?”

  “Something like that,” Landon muttered.

  “You don’t look like a guy who runs to the rescue of others.”

  “Meaning?” Landon had placed his hands on his hips and was now facing off against Chief Terry aggressively.

  For his part, Chief Terry didn’t look intimidated. He moved around me and stood in front of Landon, placing his own hands on his hips and adapting an equally confrontational stance. “Meaning you look more like the type of guy who causes trouble.”

  “I heard screams and wanted to make sure no one was hurt,” Landon said, casting a sideways glance at me. “I didn’t realize that made me a criminal.”

  Chief Terry slid a questioning glance toward me and realization dawned on his face. “You came in here to make sure she was all right.” Chief Terry jerked his thumb at me when he said the word “she.”

  “I just met him,” I protested.

  Chief Terry ignored me. “She makes an impression, doesn’t she?”

  Landon didn’t answer the question, but a small smile played at the corner of his lips.

  “The whole family does. You should see her mother. And her aunts. Her beautiful mother and aunts. Well, not her Aunt Tillie, not that she doesn’t make an impression," he said hurriedly. Even Chief Terry didn’t want to run the risk of offending Aunt Tillie.

  Landon quirked a smile. “I see you know the family well.”

  “I’ve known her since she was a kid and I don’t like ruffians – especially ones who look like you – sniffing around.”

  “He’s not sniffing around,” I interjected. “I really did just meet him a few minutes ago.” I don’t know why I felt the need to stand up for Landon – but I did.

  Chief Terry was still pretending he didn’t hear me – even though I knew he did. “Why don’t you go join the others out front,” he ordered Landon. “Don’t leave, though. My officers are going to want to interview you.”

  Landon glared at Chief Terry, but he did as he was told. He cast a glance back at me as he left, but he didn’t say anything. I was relieved when I saw him disappear back into the maze.

  “I don’t need you to protect me,” I told Chief Terry, even though I was touched at his concern.

  “That is not the kind of man who you should be spending time with,” he said, his warning clear.

  “I told you – three times now – I just met him,” I snapped. “I’m not spending time with him.”

  “Just keep it that way,” Chief Terry grumbled. “I don’t think your family would like him.”

  “Who do they like?”

  “They like you,” he replied quickly. “And they don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  I wasn’t sure about Aunt Tillie, but he was right about the rest of them. “What makes you think I’m going to get hurt?”

  Chief Terry opened his mouth to explain, but he was interrupted by a contingent of state police who were suddenly descending on the area. I wanted to stay and see what they found, but I was ushered out of the area quickly.

  Once I was back at the front of the maze, I found myself surrounded by the townspeople who usually made a point of shunning me.

  “Who was it?” Mrs. Little asked in alarm.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I didn’t see his face.”

  “You’re sure it’s a body, though?”

  “I’m sure.”

  One of the teenage boys who had been in the maze earlier brought me a cup of cider. I thanked him and sipped it mindlessly. I don’t even like cider – and yet it tasted good.

  The police questioned everyone in the area. Most people were released quickly. After about an hour, only a handful of people was left. One of them was Landon. I watched as he made his way over to me.

  “How are you?” He seemed genuinely concerned – and that puzzled me.

  “I’m fine.” I glanced around the front of the maze and realized that his friends were gone. “Where are your little buddies?”

  “They didn’t like all the police, so they left,” he said.

  “Why don’t they like police?”

  Landon shrugged. “Lots of people don’t like the police.”

  “And how do you feel about the police?”

  Landon looked down on me and smiled despite himself. “I think that police serve a purpose.”

  “Have they had to serve a purpose with you before?”

  Landon chuckled. “I get the feeling you don’t trust me.”

  “Why would I?”

  “Why wouldn’t you? Because I drink beer at nine in the morning?”

  That’s as good of a reason as any. “No. I just don’t know you.”

  “So you’re suspicious of everyone you don’t know? You only trust family?” Landon was baiting me. He was trying to get a reaction.

  “Oh, I’m suspicious of my family, too. That’s because I know what they’re capable of, though. I have no idea what you’re capable of.”

  “Maybe you’ll find out?”

  I realized he was flirting with me and felt a rush of warmth wash over me. Then I remembered where I was.

  I turned to see Chief Terry exiting the corn maze. He made his way over to me. “It’s a teenage boy,” he said heavily.

  “One of ours?” I felt as if the air had been knocked out of me.

  “I don’t recognize him.”

  That was a small relief. Not for his family, though.

  “They’re going to get dental records and see if they can identify him.”

  “He didn’t have any identification on him?” Landon asked the question, but Chief Terry directed the answer to me.

  “He didn’t have a wallet on him. They’re still looking around the maze to see if they can find any of his belongings.”

  I swallowed hard. “How was he killed?”

  “He was stabbed in the heart and it was … removed.”

  “Removed?” My eyebrows practically shot off my head. “Why would someone remove a heart?”

  “I don’t know,” Chief Terry admitted. “It’s sick. The state boys say it’s ritualistic.”

  “Like a cult?”

  Chief Terry shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see what they find out. I know about as much as you do right now.”

  “Where will they take him now?”

  “Th
e state lab.”

  We lapsed into silence for a few minutes and watched as the state police wheeled a body bag on a gurney out of the maze. I felt sad for the unidentified boy inside. What a horrible way to die. I could only hope he’d been dead before his heart had been cut out.

  Chief Terry turned back to me briefly. “I’ll let you know what we find out.”

  “Thanks.”

  I started to move away, but Chief Terry stopped me. “Bay, they did say one other thing.”

  “What?”

  “They said if it is some sort of ritual thing, this might only be the beginning.”

  Six

  When I left the corn maze, I was still shaken by Chief Terry’s parting words. Only the beginning? More murders? More teenagers with their hearts cut out? I couldn’t even imagine that. Why here? And why now?

  I found my hands shaking as I drove and pondered what had just happened. This was Hemlock Cove. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen here. The most distressing thing to happen here on a regular basis was gossip.

  I stopped at the paper to see how the layout for this week’s edition was going. It wasn’t exactly rocket science, but it was still important. This was the town’s only source of local information, after all. And, even though the townspeople made fun of the paper, they would be lost without it.

  I went into my office, closing the door behind me, and opened my laptop. I started Googling ritual murders – and was disturbed by what I found. To be fair, my only knowledge on anything like this came from television – basically Criminal Minds and Dateline reruns. The only thing I could ascertain is that there were no set rules for this sort of thing.

  Essentially, two types of people conduct ritualistic murders: Those who thought the devil was making them do those things and those who thought they were doing horrific things because they were actually the devil. Both sounded insane to me.

  Surprisingly, when I widened my search, I found that there were a disturbing number of ritual murders throughout the country that involved removing hearts. Apparently, the heart was the most common organ to be removed. Nice.

  Despite surfing through several websites, I couldn’t find one commonality for why people would take the heart. Some did it as a way to appease certain Pagan gods. Others did it as a trophy – putting it in a jar or on display in their homes. The truly disturbed, I found, actually ate them. And I thought liver was gross.