Wicked Witches of the Midwest 9 Page 7
Now I was intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Aunt Tillie said. “I haven’t eaten yet today. I need food to fuel my brain. Then I’ll be a lean, mean revenge machine.”
“Oh, well, there’s a terrifying thought,” Landon said, shaking his head. He squeezed my hand as he tugged me toward the kitchen. “Let’s eat before you start your revenge planning. We have the entire day ahead of us to plot Thistle’s downfall.”
He had a point. “Okay, but I expect you to help, too.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I think that sounds like a plan,” Aunt Tillie said, padding behind us as we headed toward the kitchen. “The three of us together will be unstoppable. In fact, we should start our own company. We’ll call in Revenge Inc. People will drive from miles around to pay for our services.”
“I … that’s an idea,” I hedged.
“It’s a great idea,” Aunt Tillie enthused. “What do you think, copper?”
Landon sighed as he held open the door for us. “I think it’s going to be a long day.”
I was pretty sure he was right.
“WHAT ARE you doing in here?” Landon found me in the library two hours later. After a leisurely breakfast, I left him to discuss the fate of the Detroit Lions this upcoming football season with a guest and wandered into the library. I was looking for a specific book on Great Lakes maritime shipping and lost track of time when I found an entire section dedicated to the topic.
I was comfortable on the couch, a big book spread across my lap, when Landon joined me.
“Sorry,” I said, jerking up my head. “I didn’t mean to abandon you for so long.”
“That’s okay,” Landon said, settling next to me. “I’m an adult. I can entertain myself.”
“I thought I was your favorite form of weekend entertainment,” I teased, grinning when Landon slid closer so he could study the book.
“You’re definitely my favorite form of entertainment – whether it’s the middle of the week or the weekend,” Landon said. “You never need to put qualifiers in there. I missed you when you didn’t come back. What are you looking at?”
“It’s a book on ships of the Great Lakes.”
“And why do you care about that?”
I shrugged as I bit the inside of my cheek. I still hadn’t told him about my experience from the previous afternoon. At first I told myself that I was protecting him because I didn’t want him to worry. That was mostly true. He didn’t understand paranormal happenings, so they made him nervous. Now that I’d hidden it from him, though, I felt guilty. I knew I should’ve told him right away, but it was too late now. He wouldn’t take the admission well. He hated it when I kept important things from him, and he would consider me passing out important.
“Sam got his tanker yesterday,” I explained. “We scouted it out.”
“Okay.”
“It’s called the Yeti Inferno now – which is kind of funny given Clove’s fear of monsters – but it used to be called the Gray Harker.”
“How did you figure out that?”
“There’s a website where you can track boat names,” I said, gesturing toward my phone. “It wasn’t hard.”
“I keep forgetting that you’re an intrepid reporter,” Landon teased, running his finger over a page in the book. “Why are you so interested in this?”
I decided to split the difference on a lie and bring Landon closer to the truth without telling him everything. “Because one of the ghosts I thought I saw in here last night was wearing a captain’s hat.”
Landon’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t remember it until we were eating breakfast. I couldn’t really volunteer that in front of the guests,” I said.
“So you think the ghosts have something to do with Sam’s new tanker? The Yeti Inferno is a great name for a band, by the way. I’m not sure it fits a ship.”
“Clove has been talking about renaming it the Bubbling Cauldron, so that name probably won’t stick.”
“I think they should name it the Flaming Broomstick,” Landon suggested. “I think that sounds funnier.”
“You and Sam can talk about that later,” I said, turning my attention back to the book. “I think they’ll be working on it for weeks.”
“Uh-huh.” Landon rubbed the back of my neck as he watched me read. “Sweetie, do you want to tell me why you’re so fixated on this?”
His cop instincts were kicking into overdrive. I couldn’t blame him for being suspicious. “I thought I saw something last night, but it was over so quickly I couldn’t be sure. Then I felt like a real ninny because I overreacted and freaked myself out.”
“I don’t think that makes you a ninny. I think that makes you human.”
“I still feel like an idiot,” I said. “I honestly think one of the ghosts was wearing a captain’s hat.”
“But how did you tie that to Sam’s tanker?”
I shrugged. “How else? That’s the new component. I’m not sure it has anything to do with the ghosts, but we did visit it earlier in the day. It can’t hurt to look up the tanker’s history.”
“That’s a legitimate point,” Landon said, licking his lips as he studied the page. “Have you found anything?”
“Actually I have,” I replied. “Right before you came in I found this.” I shifted the book from my lap to Landon’s and tapped the page. “This says the Gray Harker made regular trips through the Great Lakes – mostly on Lake Michigan – before 1989.”
“What happened in 1989?”
“The tanker vanished.”
“You mean it sank?”
“No, I mean it vanished.”
“Well, lots of ships have sunk in the Great Lakes.”
“I said it vanished,” I insisted. “But that’s not the weird part.”
“Okay, I give. What’s the weird part?”
“It was missing for three months and then it reappeared.”
“Where did the crew say they were?”
“That’s just it. The crew wasn’t on the tanker. They were never heard from again.”
“So … wait … you’re saying the tanker disappeared for three months and the crew disappeared – forever?” Landon tapped his lip. “How many men are we talking about here?”
“Twenty.”
“How is that possible?”
“I have no idea,” I answered, turning my palms up. “No one ever found any bodies. All of the life rafts were accounted for when the vessel turned up. It’s a maritime mystery.”
“I’ve never heard of it, so it can’t be much of a mystery,” Landon grumbled, his expression thoughtful as he studied the page. “Do you think the ghosts were from the tanker? Were they all men?”
I nodded. “No women. As for the ghosts being from the tanker, I’m not ruling out the possibility that they came from somewhere else, but I think it makes a lot more sense to follow the obvious trail.”
“And that trail leads right to Sam’s tanker,” Landon mused, leaning back in his chair. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that tanker.”
My heart rolled. I knew he would say it, but I wasn’t keen on returning to the tanker after what happened yesterday. It’s not as if I could avoid it, though. “I figured you might,” I said, forcing a wan smile. “I thought we could check out the tanker and then have lunch in town.”
“As long as I get to spend time with you, I’m fine with that,” Landon said, brushing a kiss against my cheek. “I do have one question before we go, though: If the ghosts are haunting the tanker, why would they come to the inn?”
I was dreading that question, too. “Perhaps they saw us on the tanker even though we didn’t see them and they followed us home.”
“Is that possible?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Well, I don’t like the sound of that,” Landon admitted. “I don’t want strange ghosts following you home.”
&nbs
p; “I’m less worried about me than Annie,” I said. “This could completely freak her out if they keep showing up.”
“Well, I’m worried about both of you,” Landon said. “I want you safe, Bay. I want Annie safe, too. I think we need to figure out this ghost situation as soon as possible.”
“I totally agree with you there.”
“Of course you do,” Landon teased, tweaking my nose. “I’m the smartest man in the world. You would be crazy to disagree with me.”
“You’re modest, too,” I said, giggling as he gave me a kiss. Instead of immediately separating, we sank into an embrace and took a few moments to enjoy the solitude. I had a feeling we would be in short supply of it over the next few days. That’s when a familiar figure popped into view in front of us and proved just how right I was.
“Ooh, are you guys about to do it?”
The recently deceased Viola Hendricks stared at Landon and me as she crossed her arms over her chest. She’d been dead for only a month – and popping up in my life on a regular basis for a few weeks – so I was still getting used to her presence.
“We’re not going to do it,” I muttered, wiping my mouth as Landon made a curious face.
“I wasn’t trying to get you to do it,” Landon said. “I love you, but I’m not an animal.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I offered, holding up my hands by way of apology. “Viola is here.”
“Oh.” Landon couldn’t see ghosts, but he didn’t seem thrilled with the knowledge that we weren’t alone. “What does she want?”
That was a good question. “What do you want, Viola?”
“He doesn’t have to talk about me as if I’m not here,” Viola complained. “I’m a person and should be treated with respect. Heck, I’m his elder. He should be worshipping me.”
That sounded nothing like Landon. “He only worships me.”
Landon smirked at my half of the conversation. “And only when she’s naked,” he added, causing me to elbow him in the stomach. “That was a compliment, sweetie. Don’t be so mean.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“He’s kind of a wimp, huh?” Unlike most women, Viola didn’t fall at his feet whenever she saw Landon. “He’s pretty, though.”
“He’s handsome,” I corrected. “He doesn’t like being called pretty.”
“Then he should cut his hair,” Viola said. “He would be handsome if he cut his hair.”
“If he cuts his hair, I’ll be heartbroken,” I said, twirling strands of Landon’s locks around my fingers. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, Viola, but what are you doing here?” In truth, I wasn’t happy to see Viola. When The Whistler’s resident ghost Edith passed over a few weeks ago – her murder finally solved after she spent decades in limbo – I thought I would be ghost free for an extended amount of time. I was very wrong. I wasn’t alone for five minutes before Viola showed up. She’s been making something of a nuisance of herself ever since.
“Well, if he’s not going to cut it you should at least convince him to braid it,” Viola said. “I think that’s one of the biggest disappointments out there right now. There aren’t enough man braids.”
Viola was one of those people who said whatever came to her mind when she was alive. She got away with it because she was elderly and no one dared call her on it. Now that she was dead and faced no repercussions at all she had absolutely no filter.
“I will … talk to Landon about your braid suggestion later,” I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing as Landon made an annoyed face. “Why are you here again?”
“I’m bored, and the only people who can see me live in this house,” Viola replied. “I thought I might mess with Tillie a little bit. I saw you first, though.”
“Lucky me,” I deadpanned. “I … .” Something occurred to me and I changed course. “You’re bored, huh?”
Viola nodded. “I am so bored. Haunting Hemlock Cove isn’t nearly as much fun as I thought it would be.”
I could see that. “Do you remember my cousin Thistle?”
“What are you doing, Bay?” Landon asked, his voice low.
“She’s the one with the weird hair, right?” Viola asked.
“She is,” I confirmed. “You hung out with her about a week ago.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Viola said. “She can hear me but not see me when you’re around.”
“Actually, now that she’s heard you she’ll always be able to hear you,” I offered. “Clove, too.”
“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” Viola said. “That gives me more people to talk to.”
“It does,” I agreed, bobbing my head. “In fact, I think you should talk to her now. She mentioned this morning that she’s feeling lonely. Her boyfriend has long hair, too, and neither one of them understand about the man braid.”
Landon snorted but otherwise remained quiet.
“Okay, if you think it will help,” Viola said. She didn’t look thrilled or disappointed with the suggestion. “What are you going to do? I don’t want you to be lonely.”
“I don’t want to be lonely either,” I said. “Thistle is already lonely, though. She told me. In fact … yes … didn’t you once tell me that you knit slippers for soldiers serving overseas?”
“I did.”
“You also told me you got a letter from each soldier and memorized each one.”
“I did that, too.”
“I think Thistle would love to hear about all of those soldiers,” I said. “There were like a hundred of them, right?”
“Yes.” The more I talked, the more intrigued Viola seemed. “Do you really think she would want to hear about that?”
“I know she would,” I said. “She loves soldiers and slippers. This is going to be the best of both worlds for her.”
Viola mock saluted and smiled. “I’m on it. I’ll keep your cousin from boredom.”
“I knew you were the right ghost for the job.” I kept my smile in place until she disappeared and then shifted my eyes to Landon. “She’s gone.”
“You’re an evil woman, Bay Winchester.” Landon said the words but his eyes were filled with mirth. “Evil!”
“I thought you liked me when I was evil.”
“I like you however you are,” Landon said. “I do love it when you’re evil, though. I’m looking forward to playing evil nap games later – you know, kissing the princess to wake her up and stuff. We need to visit the Dandridge first.”
I’d almost forgotten about that. “Well, I’ll make it worth your while later.”
“And that’s why you’re my favorite person in the world,” Landon said, smacking a kiss to my lips. “Now, come on. Let’s check out the tanker. The faster we do our investigating, the faster we can enjoy evil Bay’s … talents.”
“You are kind of a pervert. You know that, right?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
EIGHT
C love opened the door to the Dandridge after our third knock, a frazzled look on her face.
“I have no time for crap,” she announced. “If you’re trying to get me on your side in your war against Thistle, you’re fresh out. I’m not in the mood to play games.”
Landon smirked as he looked Clove up and down. She was dressed in knit shorts and a T-shirt – which was unheard of because she preferred looking cute and put together – and her dark hair was pushed back from her face thanks to a bandana. She had dirt smudges on her cheek and a bottle of window cleaner in her hand.
“Hello, Mr. Clean.”
Clove didn’t bother cracking a smile. “You’re so funny, Landon. You could be a comedian if this FBI agent thing doesn’t work out.”
Landon raised his eyebrows as he glanced at me. “Wow. And I thought Thistle was the mean one.”
“I’m sorry,” Clove offered, her shoulders stiff. “I’m just very busy. I mean … very busy. I don’t have time for nonsense. That’s exactly what I told
Thistle when she called.”
Well, that answered that question. “What did Thistle want you to do?”
“I just told you that I don’t have time for nonsense,” Clove groused. “Did you hear me? Are you suddenly deaf?”
“You really are the mean one today,” I shot back. “Aunt Tillie would be proud … and want to visit so she can take notes.”
Despite her grouchy demeanor, Clove brightened considerably. “Do you think?”
“Definitely,” Landon said, gripping the maritime book tighter as he slipped a protective arm around my waist. “We’re not here to bug you, though. We’re here to bug Sam.”
Clove blinked twice, surprised. “Oh … I … .”
“Forgot I lived here apparently,” Sam supplied, his smile small but genuine when he nudged Clove out of the way with his hip. “Go back to your cleaning, honey. I’ll handle our guests.”
“Okay.” Clove looked torn. She clearly wanted to know why we were visiting Sam, but she was in cleaning mode thanks to Sam’s mother’s imminent arrival. She couldn’t do both at once. “I’ll want to know everything you talked about later.”
“I’ll take notes just for you,” Sam quipped, earning a scathing look. “Or … not.”
“You need to have your little meeting of the minds outside,” Clove ordered, pointing toward the patio. “I’ve already cleaned that area, so if you mess it up you’re going to answer to me.”
On a normal day I might laugh at the threat. She clearly meant business today, though. “I’ll guard your clean patio with my life,” Sam said, his smile thin and grim.
“You do that.”
Landon maintained an air of calm indifference as we shuffled toward the patio, cracking a smile only when he was sure we were out of Clove’s earshot. “What’s with her?”
“She’s a maniac,” Sam replied. “Never in my life have I seen someone so … .”
“Crazy?” I supplied.
“I was going to say determined,” Sam replied, shooting me a dark look. “Don’t talk about my Clove that way. She’s simply focused. She’s not crazy.”
“She looks a little crazy to me, but I think that’s the Winchester way,” Landon said, sitting in one of the chairs around the outdoor table and watching as Sam put up the umbrella. “Bay went crazy this morning, but she recovered. There’s nothing to worry about. With the Winchesters it seems to be temporary insanity. I’m hopeful none of them will have to be involuntarily committed at any point. The jury is still out on Thistle, though.”