Landon Calling: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short Read online

  Bay effortlessly stepped over Twila. “Dinner will be ready in a half hour, and Mom says there’s no fake blood at the table,” she called out to her aunt. “Give yourself time to get cleaned up. You don’t want to miss the prime rib.”

  Twila slapped her hand on the floor. “I’m dead, Bay! You’re ruining my performance!”

  “Sorry.”

  I grinned as I pulled Bay into the library and shut the French doors. I could see Chris staring in our direction from the other side of the foyer. I shut the blinds and flopped on the couch, letting out a loud groan. “Oh! You have no idea how happy I am to be alone with you … even if it’s only for five minutes.”

  Bay arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “Did you really miss me that much?”

  I tucked a strand of flaxen hair behind her ear and shrugged. “See, this puts me in an awkward position. I did miss you. I always do. It’s not just that, though. It’s … all of this.”

  “You don’t like your co-workers?” Bay’s eyes were keen as she settled next to me.

  “I like most of them fine.” I linked my fingers with hers and rested our joined hands in my lap. “I just … bringing them here was a mistake. When Steve first suggested it, I thought it was a bad idea. I worried everyone would find out the big secret.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Then I realized that was stupid because it was only for a few days and you guys have hidden your abilities in front of guests for a long time,” I added. “Then I got excited because I thought it would be like a vacation week for me and extra money for your mother and aunts. I’m already up on all of the techniques and new gadgets, so attendance isn’t mandatory for me.

  “I thought I could sneak away and spend afternoons with you,” I continued. “I thought we could take naps and get a jumpstart on living together.”

  “And that hasn’t exactly happened,” Bay surmised. “We’ve got a missing woman, that Chris Wilson douche, Noah, Aunt Tillie, Thistle … . In other words, it’s a normal weekend with added stressors.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as I slipped my arm around her waist. “I guess. I just … I don’t like worrying. Now I have to worry about Chris hitting on you and Noah getting himself in trouble with Aunt Tillie. That’s on top of the missing woman – who may not be missing – and it’s just … a lot.”

  “Well, I can’t help you with Noah and Aunt Tillie,” Bay said. “She’ll do what she’s going to do. Noah clearly hasn’t learned his lesson. He needs to get his butt kicked Winchester style so it sets in.”

  “Winchester style, huh?”

  “It’s quite a sight to behold.”

  “I believe you.” I brushed a kiss against her brow. “What about Chris hitting on you? Do I have to worry about that?” I already knew the answer, but her incredulous expression was worth any potential embarrassment attached to asking the question.

  “I don’t like blondes,” Bay said. “Otherwise you’d be in real trouble.”

  I chuckled as I rubbed my fingers over the back of her neck. “I’ll keep that in mind.” We lapsed into amiable silence for a moment, the sound of voices moving toward the front door telling me today’s demonstrations were about to end. There were enough cops and agents in the area that we had to split up and make reservations at three different inns. Only The Overlook’s registered guests would be staying for dinner, and I couldn’t help but be relieved about that.

  “So, what did you do with your afternoon?” I asked, changing topics. “Did you work at the newspaper office?”

  “For an hour,” Bay replied. “Then I went to Williamsburg.”

  “What’s in Williamsburg?”

  “Donna Emery’s ex-husband.”

  I stilled, surprised. “I thought you said she was religious.”

  “I did.”

  “Doesn’t that mean divorce is frowned upon?”

  “Yes, but I don’t think that’s our place to judge,” Bay chided, tapping her finger against my chin.

  “That’s not what I was doing,” I argued. “I’m just trying to understand. You guys started talking about Donna when we were in the car, and then we got sidetracked.”

  “Don’t we always?” Bay’s eyes were full of mirth as she squeezed my hand. “Anyway, Tim and Donna Emery divorced about three years ago. They met at church and were big pillars of the community. Then he started having an affair with the woman who ran the church’s daycare center and … well … I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”

  “Yes, you’ve connected the dots brilliantly,” I said. “So Tim Emery had an affair. Was he caught or did he own up to it?”

  “He admitted it, but only after half the town saw him in a few parking lots,” Bay answered. “The car was always bouncing … and his wife wasn’t in the passenger seat.”

  It was sad, but I couldn’t stop myself from snickering. “I’m guessing that gossip traveled fast given the size of Hemlock Cove.”

  “You have no idea.” Bay shifted so her legs rested over my thigh. She seemed eager to tell her story. “So Mrs. Little found out and told everyone. She was on the church’s elder board – I think that’s what it’s called – and enjoys ruining people. That’s exactly what she tried to do to Donna.

  “She tells Donna the truth and Donna doesn’t believe it at first,” she continued. “Tim lies for a couple of weeks, but then finds out that Julie Woods, the daycare worker, is pregnant. He then admits to Donna that he has been having an affair and he wants a divorce.”

  “How did that go over?”

  “Not well,” Bay answered. “Donna contested the divorce and this went on and on for what felt like forever. It was years before the divorce was officially settled. Donna refused to sit for mediation and fought the entire process.

  “That, of course, caused Julie to freak out, because she didn’t want her kid to be born out of wedlock,” she continued. “She was still attending church regularly, if you can believe that. Anyway, she started saying horrible things about Donna, and they had a few public showdowns.”

  “It sounds like Hemlock Cove’s version of General Hospital, huh?”

  Bay nodded. “Eventually a judge pushed through the divorce because he thought it was best for Donna’s sanity. He was very sympathetic and awarded her a huge settlement. He said that Tim had to pay alimony until Donna remarried.”

  I rolled the idea through my mind. “Donna isn’t the type to remarry, because she’s ultra-religious and believes she’s supposed to be with Tim forever.”

  “Exactly. It was like a giant ‘screw you’ to Tim. He had a meltdown and tried to appeal, but as far as I know he’s paying alimony for life. He moved to Williamsburg and switched churches. He’s a real estate agent, so he doesn’t exactly make boatloads of money.”

  “Uh-huh.” I rubbed my chin. “He has a lot of motive to make Donna disappear.”

  “Does he?” Bay tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think he can get out of alimony if she’s missing. I think all of those funds go into an account unless a body is found. If a body is found, he’ll be the primary suspect.”

  “You have a point.” I shifted so her head rested on my shoulder. “Did you talk to him?”

  “I talked to Julie. She said she’s glad Donna is missing, but that she and Tim had nothing to do with it.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “She seemed … angry in general,” Bay replied. “I have no authority to ask questions, though. I think it would probably be smarter if you asked the questions.”

  “I’ll do it tomorrow if she doesn’t show up between now and then. Good tip, sweetie.”

  “I’m full of good things,” Bay teased. “In fact … .”

  Whatever flirty thing she was about to say disappeared from her lips as Twila threw open the library door and stalked inside.

  “You look pretty good for a dead woman,” I quipped, working overtime to keep from laughing at Twila’s furious countenance.

  “Oh, you’re such a comedian,”
Twila deadpanned. “Do you have any idea how much work it takes to lie on the floor all day?”

  That had to be a trick question. “I can honestly say that I don’t know the answer to that question.”

  “Well, it’s tough,” Twila barked, heading for the drink cart. “It’s also a thankless job. Do you know that when I got off the floor they didn’t even bother applauding? I mean … I wasn’t expecting a standing ovation or anything. Random applause would’ve been nice, though.”

  I bit my lip and buried my face in Bay’s neck so Twila couldn’t see that I was laughing. Bay patted my shoulder as she stared down her aunt.

  “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough day,” Bay said. “Dying is never easy.”

  “Oh, trust me. I know.”

  “Still, we have prime rib. And you didn’t have to slave away in the kitchen all day,” Bay pointed out. “That should make you happy.”

  Twila tilted her head to the side, conflicted. Finally she heaved out a heavy sigh. “I guess you’re right. Still, it’s tragic not to be revered by the little people when you’ve put on a performance that transcends time.”

  I lifted an eyebrow, dumbfounded. “Transcends time?”

  “Just go with it,” Bay prodded. “I’ll always remember your performance, Twila. It’s seared in my memory.”

  Twila beamed. “And that’s why you’re my favorite.” With that, she seemingly forgot the drink she’d been jonesing for moments before and strode out of the room.

  I watched her go, a mixture of amusement and weariness warring for top billing in my head. Then I turned my full attention to Bay. “You’re my favorite, too.”

  Bay giggled. “Right back at you.”

  Seven

  Bay was warm and cuddly when I woke the next morning. I did my best to ignore the clock on the nightstand as it taunted me with impending work, opting to remain where I was for as long as I could. She was conscious – but just barely – and she rubbed her cheek as she took a few moments to focus.

  “What time is it?”

  “We have a few minutes.” I rubbed my thumb over the back of her neck. “I’m going to carve out some time to go talk to the ex-husband with Chief Terry this morning. I have to lead a demonstration this afternoon, so I need to do it before then.”

  Bay lifted her eyes, intrigued. “You didn’t tell me you were going to lead a demonstration. What is it about?”

  I chuckled. “Nothing that would entertain you. It’s on interrogation techniques.”

  “Will Twila be your acting subject for that one, too?”

  “I hadn’t considered it, but probably not,” I replied. “She wouldn’t hold out for very long. It would be more effective if I tried to use it on Aunt Tillie.”

  “She’ll curse you if you try.”

  “That’s why I have no intention of trying.” I pressed a kiss to Bay’s forehead and stretched. “What are you doing today?”

  “A little work at the newspaper office. Then I plan to question some of the regular customers at the Yarn Barn.”

  “The Yarn Barn?”

  “That’s the name of Donna’s store.”

  “Oh, well, the name fits Hemlock Cove,” I said, shaking my head. “What do you expect to find out from the patrons?”

  “Maybe nothing.”

  “And maybe something?”

  Bay shrugged and averted her gaze, smooth, as if she was simply scanning the room as she enjoyed waking. She wasn’t fast enough for me to miss the look of determination on her face, though.

  “Sweetie, you don’t have to get involved in this,” I reminded her. “You were at the house. If Donna’s ghost was around, you would’ve seen it. She probably just took off for a few days to clear her head.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I have no reason not to believe it right now,” I replied. “You said it yourself, Bay, the woman has been going through some personal issues. Her husband left her for another woman. She’s extremely religious and believes she married for life. It might’ve been too much for her to bear when she finally accepted the fact that her husband felt otherwise.”

  Bay rolled so she was half on top of me and I had no choice but to meet her gaze. She looked fierce, which made me uncomfortable – I had the feeling the expression meant she was going to find trouble rather than run from it. “You think she killed herself, don’t you?”

  It was a simple question for which there was no good answer. I opted for honesty. “I don’t know. I don’t know her. If she was really that upset, though … .”

  “But she’s extremely religious, and suicide is a sin,” Bay pointed out. “She wouldn’t kill herself.”

  “I hope not.” I really meant it. “She could’ve gone away for a few days to clear her head and not told anyone. We don’t know yet. There’s no law against an adult voluntarily disappearing.”

  “But you don’t think she took a vacation, do you?”

  “I … don’t know, sweetie.” I framed her face with my hands and marveled at the high cheekbones and inquisitive eyes. She made my heart flip without even trying, which is a schmaltzy thing to think or say, but … well … there it is. “If she committed suicide, would she leave a ghost behind?”

  “Generally not,” Bay replied. “Most ghosts stay because there’s something unfinished to focus on, or they were yanked out of their lives so violently they didn’t have a chance to grasp what was happening to them. A suicide knows what’s happening. They embrace death.”

  “Most women commit suicide with pills, or occasionally slitting their wrists in the bathtub,” I mused, keeping my hands busy as I rubbed her shoulders. “Do you know why that is?”

  “Because they worry about who is going to have to pick up the mess,” Bay answered automatically. “Men usually opt for a gun and don’t care about the mess. Women want to either leave no mess or contain it.”

  I couldn’t help but be surprised. “How did you know that?”

  Bay grinned. “Aunt Tillie and I watch a lot of crime shows on the nights you’re in Traverse City.”

  “Pretty soon there will be no nights in Traverse City.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “I want you to be careful if you chase this Donna story. We don’t know that anything happened, but if it did … .”

  “If it did, odds are that it’s the old husband or new wife,” Bay finished, her pragmatic side taking over. “If that’s the case, I’m already a target because I drove to the house yesterday.”

  I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself, but she was right. “Don’t wander off alone, okay? Be careful.”

  “I’m always careful.”

  I scowled. “Be a lot more careful than that.”

  “Okay, but I might need some motivation,” Bay teased, her eyes flashing. “Like, for example, you might want to remind me what I’ll be missing if I find myself in trouble I can’t get out of.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m so glad you asked.”

  I HAD AN extra spring in my step as I followed Bay into the inn an hour later. We were five minutes late, but it was well worth the dirty looks as we took our regular seats at the table. Winnie glowered at us even though the rest of the table barely noticed our arrival. There was one other exception.

  “You two look happy and sweet.” The sneer was obvious in Chris’ voice as he watched us get settled. “You obviously weren’t studying the new tactics, like the rest of us.”

  “Oh, he knows all of the tactics,” Bay intoned, causing me to smirk. “He doesn’t need to study them. They come naturally to him.”

  “Bay!” Winnie was scandalized and chastised her daughter with a firm headshake, which Bay ignored.

  “You’re just jealous because the only one interested in seeing your tactics is Aunt Tillie,” Bay added. “You should be terrified of what happens when she decides she’s seen enough, by the way.”

  “Bay!” Winnie’s voice grew deeper and full of warning.

  “Leave her alo
ne,” Aunt Tillie ordered. “She’s right.”

  “I think Aunt Tillie is following me because she likes me.” Chris winked at the elderly witch, eliciting an eye roll so pronounced I briefly thought it could whip a tornado out of thin air. Aunt Tillie can control the weather when she feels like it. “I find her charming, so I like the attention.”

  “I so want to put my broom in his behind,” Aunt Tillie muttered, forcing me to bite the inside of my cheek as I reached for the platter of toast.

  “He might think that’s your version of flirting,” Bay suggested. “I … .” She broke off, causing me to lift my eyes and follow her gaze. She stared at the potted plant by the doorframe. It took me a moment to realize someone was standing behind it and staring in our direction.

  “Who is that?” I asked.

  Steve swiveled to see what drew our attention and frowned. “That’s Noah. He’s using the new surveillance tactics from the packet I handed out last night to watch Tillie.”

  I pursed my lips. “I see. Um … he knows we can see him, right?”

  “Obviously not,” Aunt Tillie replied. “He’s like a cat hiding under the floor rug. He thinks if he can’t see us that we can’t see him. Don’t make direct eye contact. I’m dying to see if he’ll lose interest in spying and lift his leg so he can groom himself in public. It will be a fascinating display.”

  Steve’s mouth dropped open at the visual. “I … um … .”

  “You’ll get used to it,” I said, patting my boss’s arm before turning to the day’s schedule. “I have an errand to run with Chief Terry, but I’ll be back in plenty of time for my demonstration.”

  “Speaking of that, where is Twila?” Bay asked, glancing around. “Landon is going to put his interrogation talents on display. I thought she’d make a perfect guinea pig.”

  “She’s probably still upstairs pouting,” Marnie replied. “That’s where she was when I left her last night. She was having a meltdown because no one respected her acting talents. She was on the floor for an entire day, for crying out loud. I’ve never heard about anyone winning an Oscar for playing dead.”