A Witch of a Time Page 7

  “We should have been there,” Dad said.

  “Yes,” I said. “You wouldn’t have been able to fix the Gracie problem, though. Do you know who fixed it?”

  “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me that Aunt Tillie fixed it.”

  “She did,” I said. “She started … messing … with Gracie. Every time Gracie tortured Bay, something bad happened to Gracie. When she stuck gum in Bay’s hair, half of her hair fell out. When she told all the boys that Bay was a hermaphrodite, she grew a mustache.”

  Dad snickered, even though the moment was serious.

  “And it wasn’t just any mustache. It was like a full man’s mustache. Every time Gracie said something nasty to Bay, it grew. She’d wax it, and shave it, but it just kept growing – even in the middle of the day. Finally, she put two-and-two together and realized that it was karma paying her back and she finally stop terrorizing Bay.”

  “Tillie has always been … difficult,” Dad said. “I have never once doubted that she loves you all, though. You should know, I didn’t leave because of you. I left because I loved you, and I loved your mother, but we just couldn’t all live together anymore. I thought I was making it easier for everyone, and I think Teddy and Jack felt the same way. The only ones we were making it easier on were ourselves. By the time we all realized that … it was too late.”

  I lifted my eyes – finally – and met his tortured gaze. “It’s never too late. Everything in life takes work, though. You have to put in the work.”

  Dad nodded. “I hope I’m up for the task.”

  “Me, too.”

  Dad walked me back to my bedroom, both of us pulling up short when we reached the top of the staircase and found Marcus leaning against the wall in the hallway.

  “What’s going on?”

  He pointed to the room. “Look.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but I was feeling brave this evening for some reason. When I pushed open the door, the sight that greeted me was … adorable. Thistle was spread eagle on the bed, her arm raised over her head as she snored heavily. The spot next to her – Marcus’ spot – wasn’t empty. Aunt Tillie, curled on her side, was noisily slumbering next to Thistle.

  “She must be exhausted,” I said, smiling.

  “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

  Dad smirked, never taking his eyes off Thistle and Aunt Tillie. “Crawl in there with them.”

  “That’s like the worst threesome ever,” Marcus complained.

  “There’s room on the other side of Thistle,” I said. “They won’t wake up until morning. I think you’ll be safe.”

  Marcus sighed, resigned. “It’s a good thing I love her. If I didn’t, this is where I would draw the line.” He glanced at me. “If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.” Hey, it turned out I wasn’t such a bad liar after all – and I even took a few photographs with my cell phone as proof.

  Nine

  “Good morning.”

  Sam’s face was happy when he rolled over and faced me the next morning. Despite the events of the previous evening, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt … good. “Good morning.”

  Sam wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, brushing a light kiss against my forehead as he let consciousness wash over him. After a few moments, he bolted upright. “Holy crap!”

  “It’s okay,” I soothed.

  “What happened to the ghost?”

  “Aunt Tillie sent it away.”

  “For good?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “I … everything is so fuzzy.”

  I cocked my head, sympathy rolling over me. “That’s because Aunt Tillie cursed the wine.”

  Sam stilled. “She did? Is that why everyone was acting so funny?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s also the reason she was here. When she found out we were all staying here, she was going to steal the wine back.”

  “But … you were okay,” Sam said. “I don’t remember a lot, but you were totally in control.”

  “I didn’t drink the red wine.”

  “Ah.” Sam ran his hand through his hair. “Did I do anything really embarrassing?”

  I kissed his cheek. “You were fine. I think Thistle and Landon are going to be the only ones feeling the burn from last night this morning. Well, and maybe Uncle Jack. I was worried he and Landon were going to come to blows.”

  “I kind of remember that,” Sam said.

  “Well, the good news is, if you’re fuzzy – and you know what our lives are like – that should mean the guests will just figure they got really hammered and had a good time,” I said.

  Sam smiled. “You’re always such an optimist.” He leaned in and gave me a sweet kiss.

  “I should probably check on Thistle and Bay,” I said. “Oh, and Aunt Tillie.”

  “Aunt Tillie? She stayed here last night?”

  I smiled broadly and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. “Oh, yeah.”

  Sam was grinning within seconds as he studied the photographs. “Can I get one of these framed?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “HE WAS trying to cop a feel.”

  “He was not.”

  “He was, too.”

  “He was not.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  I found Thistle and Aunt Tillie arguing in the hallway. “What’s going on?”

  Thistle’s hair was a blue mess. It was standing on end, and the previous day’s eye makeup was smeared halfway down her cheeks. “Aunt Tillie … slept with us last night.”

  “I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We found you up here sleeping together when we were done cleaning up,” I said. “I have pictures.”

  “I’m going to beat you,” Thistle warned.

  “I think you were both exhausted,” I said. “It’s not like it’s a big deal.”

  “Aunt Tillie claims Marcus was trying to feel her up while we were sleeping,” Thistle said.

  “He was,” Aunt Tillie said, her hands on her hips as she regarded Thistle with thinly-veiled ire. “I’m a hot piece of woman. You should take notes.”

  “He was on the other side of me,” Thistle argued.

  For his part, Marcus looked horrified. “I swear I wasn’t trying to feel you up. I was just snuggling with Thistle. I was half asleep. My hand slipped.”

  “And did you like what you felt?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  “Of course not,” Marcus said, oblivious. “I knew right away that it wasn’t Thistle. It was too … low.”

  Aunt Tillie narrowed her eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  Marcus was lost. “I’m so confused.”

  “You’re fine,” Thistle said, patting his arm. “She’s just messing with you. Accidentally grabbing her boob was the most action she’s seen in decades.”

  “You’re back on my list, girl.”

  “When was I off your list?” Thistle challenged.

  “You said I was a genius last night,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “Oh, well, now I know you’re lying,” Thistle said, looking to me for support.

  I tried to wipe the rueful look off my face – and failed. “You did say it.”

  “Well, that’s just … .”

  “The wine was cursed,” I said, putting Thistle out of her misery.

  “What?” Thistle pondered my statement for a second and then swiveled her shoulders. “You.”

  The door to Bay and Landon’s room swung open.

  “Why is everyone yelling?”

  Bay didn’t look any better than Thistle.

  “Marcus grabbed my boob in bed this morning,” Aunt Tillie announced.

  “It was an accident!” Marcus’ face was so red I was worried he was going to pass out.

  Landon appeared in the doorway behind Bay. “My head feels like it’s goin
g to explode.”

  “It’s because you had too much wine,” I said. “It was cursed.”

  “It was cursed?” Bay’s face reflected a myriad of emotions, last night’s events slowly falling into place. “Aunt Tillie.”

  “She was trying to steal the wine back,” I said. “That’s what she was doing here.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” Thistle warned.

  “Don’t say things like that to me,” Aunt Tillie warned. “I’ll make you sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry,” Thistle said. “I slept in a bed with my boyfriend and you last night. How can my life get any worse?”

  “Well, we still have a ghost to deal with,” I said.

  Bay rubbed the side of her face. “Oh, right. I forgot about that. I was hoping it was a dream.”

  “Nope.”

  Landon rested his chin on Bay’s shoulder, his long hair tousled from a restless night. “Is it too much to hope that my fight with Jack was a dream?”

  “That was real, too,” I said. “That was because of the wine.”

  Landon scorched Aunt Tillie with a look. “Are you happy?”

  “I’m not unhappy,” Aunt Tillie said. “I had fun. I got a good night’s sleep. Oh, and Marcus felt me up this morning. Thistle should be worried. It’s going to be a good day.”

  She started moving toward the stairs.

  “What do you think they’re serving for breakfast?”

  “I’M GLAD you slept so well, Tillie,” Dad said, fixing her with a tight smile.

  “The bed was very comfortable,” Aunt Tillie said, digging into her eggs and hash browns with gusto. “Thistle snores like a sailor, but I barely noticed. Calvin snored, too. It was like going back in time.”

  “Thanks,” Thistle said, shoveling a forkful of potatoes into her mouth.

  “I even got felt up,” Aunt Tillie said, her eyes sparkling.

  Dad gulped and then turned to me. “How did you sleep?”

  “Surprisingly well.”

  “I slept great,” Clara said. “I can’t believe how fun last night was.”

  Dad balked. “Fun?”

  “You guys put on a great show,” Chet said. “I’m going to be recommending this place to everyone I know. It’s amazing.”

  “While I thought the theatrics were a bit much, I still think this is an outrageous experience,” Jim said. “It’s nice to have something different.”

  Dad relaxed, if only marginally. “Well … we aim to please.”

  “We do,” Teddy enthused.

  Landon and Jack were busy staring at their plates, each refusing to make eye contact with the other.

  “I think you should probably take red wine off the menu,” Bay said pointedly, placing her hand over Landon’s. “I think everyone might have imbibed a little too much.”

  “Yeah,” Landon said, his voice hoarse. “I know I did.”

  Jack sighed. “You’re not the only one.”

  I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing. They were both stubborn, but the immediate storm had passed. “So, what time is everyone leaving today?”

  “Three,” Dad said. “I thought we might come up with a fun activity for everyone to do before they leave. Any ideas?”

  “Let’s have another séance,” Clara suggested.

  “No.” Most of the men in the room had answered at the same time.

  “How about some horseback riding?” Marcus suggested. “I can organize a nice outing.”

  “Oh, that sounds fun,” Clara said.

  The other guests nodded.

  “I haven’t been on a horse in years,” Chet said.

  “There are a lot of different horses to choose from,” Marcus said. “They’re all very gentle, and they know the trails.”

  “Can we?” Clara asked, her eyes sparkling.

  “Of course,” Jack said. “We want this to be a great experience for everyone. Horseback riding it is.”

  “OKAY, all the guests left with Marcus,” Dad said, fixing everyone who remained with a pointed look as his gaze bounced around the room. “What are we going to do about the ghost?”

  “We need to eviscerate it,” Teddy said. “It can’t stay. A fake ghost is one thing. A real ghost is a mess.”

  “How do you suggest we eviscerate it?” Thistle asked. She’d showered after breakfast, and she looked like a human being again, but she was still crabby.

  “I don’t know,” Teddy said. “Start it on fire or something.”

  “You can’t start a ghost on fire,” Bay said wearily. “We’re in a tough spot here. This isn’t a normal ghost.”

  “Can you expand on that?” Jack asked.

  “A normal ghost is … fully formed,” Bay explained. “Most ghosts remain because their soul attaches to some sort of trauma. If it is Marian Lecter – and we have no reason to believe it’s not – then there’s something unsettled about her death.”

  “I ran down her kids,” Landon said. “They’re both alive. They both married, and as far as I can tell, they both had happy lives. They were never arrested for anything. They had children. They even have some grandchildren now.”

  “Maybe she’s haunted because she thinks no one knows her husband killed her,” Jack said.

  “Ghosts usually know the circumstances behind their deaths,” Bay replied. “It’s the last thing they remember, even if they try to forget the memory.”

  “The little ghost from the boat didn’t,” Landon pointed out.

  “Erika was a special case,” Bay said. “She was a child. She couldn’t grasp the concept of death. She knew she fell asleep, and a certain part of her knew she never woke up. She still didn’t understand time … or vengeance.”

  “Who is Erika?” Jack asked.

  Bay told the story. When she was done, Jack turned to Landon, surprised. “And you saw her?”

  Landon faltered. “I’m not sure.”

  “Bay said that the ghost appeared to you and told you she was in trouble,” Jack said. “That’s how you knew to go to her. I didn’t know you could see ghosts.”

  “I can’t,” Landon said.

  “But … .”

  “We don’t know how Landon could see Erika,” Bay said, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully. “We just know that, because he could, he saved our lives.”

  “I know,” Jack said. “Erika was smart enough to go to the one person she knew who could save you all. She willed Landon to see her, for which I will be forever grateful.”

  Landon’s cheeks flushed with color. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Saving their lives wasn’t a big deal?” Jack challenged. “Saving my daughter’s life wasn’t a big deal? Saving all those children wasn’t a big deal?”

  “No,” Aunt Tillie said. “I save their lives all the time. It’s an everyday occurrence. No one wants to give me a medal.”

  Landon smirked, relieved by the interruption. “I did what had to be done,” he said. “I don’t question it. I’ve learned not to question a lot of things since I met Bay.”

  “I guess you have,” Jack said, his expression thoughtful. “I’m still thankful.”

  “I … it’s nothing,” Landon said. “It’s not like I could leave them there.”

  “No,” Jack said. “You’re not the type who leaves.”

  “He left once,” Aunt Tillie interjected.

  Landon scowled. “Thank you for that.”

  Aunt Tillie shrugged. “We have to go with the assumption that the ghost is Marian Lecter. She’s our best option.”

  “I still don’t understand why she’s not fully formed,” Bay said. “I’ve never seen a … wisp … this powerful.”

  “What’s a wisp?” Teddy asked.

  “It’s like a fragment of a ghost,” Thistle said. “It’s like Marian’s soul was shattered when she died, and only a part of it remains.”

  “Maybe the fragment is looking for the rest of the soul to join with,” Jack said.

  “Maybe,” Bay said. “I don’t know
how to fix that, though.”

  “Of course you do,” Aunt Tillie scoffed. “You fix it the only way you know how.”

  Bay arched an eyebrow. “And how is that?”

  “With knowledge.”

  We all sighed in unison. “You want to have another séance, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Do you see another option?” Aunt Tillie asked. “All we have to do is call the wisp and then reunite it with the rest of her soul.”

  “And how do we do that?” Jack asked.

  “Magic,” Landon said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It always comes back to magic. I think I need another drink.”

  Ten

  “Are we sure this is where her body was found?”

  Landon glanced around dubiously. “I don’t know,” he said. “From the description in the case file, this is my best guess.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Aunt Tillie said. “Even if her body was found here, that doesn’t mean this is where she died.”

  “She has a point,” Landon said. “Forensics wasn’t the same back then. Her body could have been dragged. For all we know, she could have been killed in the inn.”

  “That doesn’t matter either,” Aunt Tillie said. “Most of that inn has been refurbished, or just outright replaced. There’s no anchor there. This is as good a place as any.”

  “Why are you so excited about this?” I asked.

  “I like a good séance,” Aunt Tillie replied. “They’re a good way to clear the channels.”

  “What channels?” Dad asked.

  Aunt Tillie flicked his forehead. “The ones in there, moron.”

  “You’re always a joy to have around,” Dad said, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows.

  “I know.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment,” Dad said.

  “I guess that depends on where you’re standing,” Aunt Tillie said. “Light the candles.”

  We were all used to Aunt Tillie – and her enthusiasm – so we did as we were told, building a circle of candles and lighting them with a snap of our fingers.

  “That was amazing,” Dad said, breathing hard.

  “We just lit some candles,” I said.

  “But … you did it without matches, or a lighter.”