Something to Witch About (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 5) Read online

  “I’m looking for you.”

  She stiffened, but she didn’t meet my gaze. “Oh, do you need to place an order or something?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t have a lot of time, so I decided that playing games was out of the question. “I heard you and Aunt Tillie yesterday.”

  Mrs. Gunderson crumpled the pile of napkins she’d been holding. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Your husband’s body was buried at The Overlook,” I said. “I’m kind of curious how that happened.”

  “My husband was having an affair and left town,” Mrs. Gunderson said. “It was sad. It was hurtful. I got over it a long time ago, though.”

  She was tough. I wasn’t going to let up, though. “Mrs. Gunderson, I know that the body found at the inn was Floyd.”

  “Floyd left town before you were born. You don’t know anything.”

  I softened my tone. “I would like to understand.”

  “You mean your cop boyfriend would like to understand,” Mrs. Gunderson corrected.

  “Landon isn’t a cop,” I replied. “He’s also on vacation. He’s not involved in this.”

  “Wasn’t he with you when the bones were discovered?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. She’d obviously found out more information after Aunt Tillie left yesterday. “His family is staying at the inn. He was there as my boyfriend, not in his capacity with the FBI.”

  “Does that mean he’s not going to investigate a murder if it falls into his lap?”

  “Are you saying Floyd was murdered?”

  Mrs. Gunderson’s jaw tightened. “I’m saying my husband left town almost fifty years ago. If that is his body, I have no idea how it got there.”

  “With all due respect, I know you’re lying.”

  Mrs. Gunderson finally faced me, her features a mask of anger and fear. “You should be careful what you say. I’m not a liar. I’ll sue you if one word of your … conjecture makes it into the pages of The Whistler.”

  “I don’t print gossip, Mrs. Gunderson,” I replied. “It just so happens, I’m on vacation this week, too.”

  “Then it would seem you have nothing else to do here.”

  “That doesn’t mean I won’t find out what’s going on.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because Aunt Tillie is family,” I replied. “She’s clearly hiding something. The problem is, I don’t know if she’s protecting you or herself.”

  “Tillie doesn’t protect anyone but herself,” Mrs. Gunderson said, swallowing hard. She wanted me to believe the words but, I didn’t.

  “Fine.”

  “Good.”

  I moved away from her, turning to find a bench or something to rest on. I needed to think. Instead, I found Landon standing about twenty feet away, watching me. Crap.

  I walked to him stiffly. “I thought you were going for a ride.”

  “I thought you were going to stay out of trouble.”

  “What makes you think I wasn’t?”

  “Because that’s the woman from the bakery yesterday,” Landon replied. “Mrs. Gunderson, right?”

  Don’t lie. “Right.”

  “And what were you two talking about?”

  “She says her husband ran away with another woman almost fifty years ago,” I said.

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Not even close.”

  “What else did she say?”

  “She said that if Aunt Tillie is protecting someone, it’s herself.”

  The corners of Landon’s mouth tipped down. “Do you believe that?”

  Not even close. “No. She said the words but there’s something else going on.”

  “Do you think she killed her husband?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “If he was having an affair maybe she freaked out and killed him,” Landon suggested.

  “I’ve known her a long time,” I said. “She’s never seemed violent.”

  “Infidelity can make people lose their minds.”

  “So, I guess you better never cheat on me,” I said, going for levity.

  Landon smirked. “Honey, you’re more than I can handle. Trust me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I thought you were going riding with your brothers?”

  “I decided to wait for you.”

  “You mean you didn’t trust me,” I corrected.

  “I trust you,” Landon replied. “I trust you to find trouble even when you’re not looking for it.”

  Fairly certain that was an insult, I turned to look at the crowd, which was growing by the minute. “I’m not going to fight with you.”

  “Good, because I’m not going to fight with you either.”

  I took a few steps back in the direction of the fair. “You know, I was thinking we could maybe go into one of the kissing booths before it gets too busy.”

  “I thought a kissing booth was so someone could pay to kiss a politician or something?”

  “It is,” I said. “The mayor will be in there all day. He likes it. It’s empty for now, though.”

  Landon smirked. “Are you trying to get me to do something lewd in public?”

  “Do I have to try?”

  “Nope.”

  I scampered ahead, Landon close on my heels. Suddenly, his hands were gripping my shoulders and yanking me backward. Man, he was anxious for a kiss.

  The sign – the one that said “Monster X-ing” standing next to the trail we were walking down – toppled over, hitting the trail with a loud clang.

  “What the hell?”

  Landon wrapped his arm around my chest, pressing his body into mine. “Why did that sign just fall?”

  I didn’t answer, but I had an idea.

  “Was that the ... ?” Landon glanced around, lowering his voice. “Was that that thing?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I didn’t know. I just had a feeling.

  Thirteen

  Landon was shaken.

  “It was probably just an accident,” I said. “That sign is new. It probably wasn’t anchored correctly.”

  Landon looked dubious. “Right.”

  “Don’t freak out.”

  “I’m not freaking out.”

  That was good. Only one of us could freak out at a time. “I need to sit down.”

  “I’m going to sit down with you.”

  We found a bench and settled. Landon pulled my hand into his, his thumb rubbing a trail of circles over my knuckles.

  “Oh, hi,” Marnie said, greeting us with wide eyes. “I’m so glad I found you.”

  “What’s wrong? I thought you guys weren’t coming until later.”

  “We weren’t,” Marnie said, tightening her jaw. “Unfortunately, Aunt Blanche decided that she had to come now and we were her ride.”

  “Why?” Landon asked.

  “She found out Kenneth was going to be here.”

  Uh-oh.

  Landon tilted his head to the side. “I don’t understand.”

  “I think she likes Kenneth,” Marnie said.

  “He must have a magic penis or something,” I mused.

  Marnie snorted. “I was wondering that myself.”

  Landon pinched me, the worry from a few minutes earlier passing. “What’s a magic penis?”

  “What?”

  “I think he’s asking if he has one,” Marnie said.

  My cheeks burned under their scrutiny. “You two are sick.”

  “Anyway,” Marnie said, “Aunt Blanche is here.”

  Landon sighed. “I’ll find my parents.”

  “Aunt Tillie is here, too.”

  The world was coming to an end. “Aunt Tillie is at the festival?”

  “She is now,” Marnie replied.

  “Why? She never comes to these things. She says they’re full of people perpetuating stereotypes and acting like idiots.”

  “She came when she found out Blanche was coming,” Marnie replied.

  “Ah.”
<
br />   Landon groaned. “This is going to get ugly, isn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I need to find my parents.”

  “I’ll try to head off Aunt Tillie,” I said.

  Landon gripped my hand. “Maybe you should come with me.”

  I knew what he was worried about. “I’ll stay away from any signs.”

  Landon seemed unsure.

  “No sign would dare attack with Aunt Tillie present.”

  “You were attacked by a sign?” Marnie asked.

  I pointed to the fallen sign, which Marcus was planting back into the ground. “It fell over.”

  “It almost hit her,” Landon said.

  Marnie shifted her gaze between the two of us. “It sounds like an accident.”

  She didn’t know about the poltergeist, I reminded myself – at least not everything about the poltergeist. “It was nothing.” I dropped a kiss on the corner of Landon’s mouth. “I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”

  “You’d better.”

  I followed Marnie through the crowd, finally finding Mom and Aunt Tillie next to the flower booth. Yeah, we have a lot of booths at these things.

  “Aunt Tillie,” I greeted her. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

  “Have you seen Kenneth?”

  “No.”

  “Have you seen that viper, Blanche?”

  “No.” I was thankful on that front. Blanche had spent more time holed up in her room than anyplace else since arriving at the inn. I had no idea what she was doing up there – but ritual human sacrifice wasn’t out of the question.

  “I’m going to make all of her hair fall out,” Aunt Tillie warned.

  “No, you’re not,” Mom shot back. “You are going to behave yourself. You’re in enough trouble.”

  I narrowed my eyes. What did that mean? Did Mom know something about the body?

  Marnie swore under her breath. I followed her gaze, inhaling sharply when I saw what had caught her attention.

  “Let’s look over here, Aunt Tillie,” I said hurriedly.

  Aunt Tillie slapped my hand away, scowling out at the dance floor where Kenneth was pushing Blanche around while wearing a wide smile. Who starts dancing this early? They were the only couple out there.

  “I’m going to make her teeth fall out, too,” Aunt Tillie said.

  “No, you’re not,” Mom said.

  “You’re right. They’re probably dentures, anyway. I’m going to make her smell like a pile of compost.”

  Well, that should be fun. “Aunt Tillie, let’s go for a walk or something.”

  I was hoping to distract her, but I also wanted to tell her about my conversation with Mrs. Gunderson. I didn’t get a chance to press the issue, though, because Chief Terry was standing in front of us.

  “Is something wrong, Terry?” Mom asked. “Why don’t you come over here and let me give you a hug? You look like you need one.”

  “Me, too,” Marnie piped up, sneering at Mom.

  Chief Terry shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t want to do this.”

  “You don’t want to do what?” Marnie asked.

  I knew. Oh, crap.

  “I need to talk to Tillie.”

  “About what?” Aunt Tillie barked.

  “The body has been identified.”

  Crap.

  “Oh, that,” Aunt Tillie said. “So, you know it’s Floyd Gunderson and now you think I killed him, don’t you?”

  Double crap.

  “LET’S JUST have a seat here.”

  Chief Terry was all nerves and worry. Mom and Marnie were so angry about Aunt Tillie being hauled in for questioning I was sure their protests were still echoing in his head. In the end, I’d volunteered to go to the police station with Aunt Tillie, appeasing them only slightly..

  So, here we were. Chief Terry, Aunt Tillie and me – and a whole lot of anger and recrimination.

  “Your office is small,” Aunt Tillie said, wrinkling her nose. “It smells, too.”

  “It doesn’t smell,” I said, turning to Chief Terry. “It doesn’t.”

  “It smells like lies and false accusations,” Aunt Tillie said. “It smells like narcs.”

  Great. This was going to go well. I decided to try to exert some control. “You identified the body?”

  “We did,” Chief Terry said. “We matched dental records.”

  “And it was Floyd Gunderson?”

  “Yes.”

  Silence. I glanced at Aunt Tillie. “I think he wants to know how you knew it was Floyd Gunderson,” I prodded.

  “He told me.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “When?”

  “The other day at the inn,” Aunt Tillie replied. “He said it was Floyd Gunderson.”

  “No,” Chief Terry said. “I said that Floyd was the only one to go missing that far back.”

  “It’s not my fault you weren’t clear,” Aunt Tillie shot back.

  The door to the chief’s office opened as Landon let himself in. He propped himself against the back wall, nodding at Chief Terry, but remaining silent. The unspoken message was clear: Landon was here; he just wasn’t here in an official capacity. Yet.

  Chief Terry cleared his throat. “Tillie, you must know how Floyd Gunderson’s body ended up on your property.”

  “Why? You don’t know. How should I know?”

  “I don’t live there.”

  “Neither did Floyd,” Aunt Tillie pointed out. “Maybe he got drunk – he was always drunk – and fell in a hole or something.”

  “That sounds … unlikely,” Chief Terry said.

  “Well then, Sherlock, why don’t you tell me what sounds likely.”

  Chief Terry shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know what sounds likely.”

  “Then I guess we’re done here.” Aunt Tillie pushed to her feet.

  “Sit down,” I ordered.

  “You’re walking on thin ice here.”

  “Aunt Tillie, I talked to Mrs. Gunderson earlier.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “You know why.”

  Aunt Tillie settled back in the chair. “I’m sure I don’t.”

  “She told me that if Floyd was on the property, she had no idea why.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t.”

  “That means you must know something about it,” I pressed.

  “I don’t.”

  “What about Margaret Little?” Chief Terry broke in.

  To anyone else, Aunt Tillie probably looked calm. I knew her, though. There was a subtle shift.

  “What about her?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  Yeah, what about Margaret Little? All I knew about her was that she was widowed, she peddled pewter unicorns, and she was often mean and condescending.

  Chief Terry sighed. “Margaret Little was rumored to be having an affair with Floyd Gunderson.”

  Eww. “Who told you that?”

  “It’s one of those town-gossip things that has survived a few decades of rewrites,” Chief Terry admitted.

  I focused on Aunt Tillie. “Is it true?”

  “You’ll have to ask her that.”

  If we’re ever kidnapped and tortured by terrorists, I want Aunt Tillie with me.

  “So, you don’t know whether Margaret Little was having an affair with Floyd?” Chief Terry asked.

  “I was a happily married woman,” Aunt Tillie said. “I didn’t go in for things like that. I have morals.”

  I ran my tongue over my teeth. “Did Mrs. Gunderson kill Floyd because he was sleeping with Mrs. Little?”

  “I have no idea,” Aunt Tillie said. “Although, to be fair, Floyd was so drunk I don’t think he could get it up. It probably just laid there and flopped around.”

  That was a nice visual. “You know that, but you don’t know whether Mrs. Little was having an affair with Floyd?”

  “I don’t like gossip.”

  Of course.

  “Ti
llie, this doesn’t look good for you,” Chief Terry said. “Floyd was supposed to have left town. He didn’t have a job. He was known to be a … royal SOB … but somehow he ended up dead in your back yard.”

  “He probably got drunk and fell in a hole.”

  “Do you have a lot of holes that people can fall into and die?”

  “Do you know how Floyd died?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  Chief Terry gritted his teeth. “No. Without any flesh, his cause of death is pretty much impossible to ascertain.”

  “So you don’t even know he was murdered,” Aunt Tillie said. “That sounds like shoddy police work to me.”

  She had a point. Not about the shoddy police work, mind you, but about Chief Terry’s certainty that Floyd had been murdered.

  “If Floyd died of natural causes, how did he end up buried?” Chief Terry asked.

  Well, there was that.

  “You’ll have to ask him,” Aunt Tillie said. “Are we done here?”

  Chief Terry sent a helpless look in my direction.

  “Aunt Tillie, you need to tell us what you know,” I said.

  “What I know? I know that Floyd Gunderson was a drunk. I don’t know how he ended up on our property. That’s what I know.”

  I met Chief’s Terry’s eyes and shrugged wordlessly.

  “Is that all?” Aunt Tillie asked.

  “That’s all.”

  This day sucks.

  Fourteen

  “I can’t believe I let you drag me up here,” Landon said.

  We’d entered the inn through the back door and were now hiding in the family living quarters before facing my family and, ultimately, his.

  “I wanted to stay in bed as much as you did,” I reminded him. “It’s not an option for us. We have, what, five days and a breakfast left? Suck it up.”

  “You know what?” Landon said, looking around the room carefully to make sure we were alone. “The next time we take a vacation, we’re going somewhere alone. It’s going to be just the two of us and no clothes. That’s it. I’m putting my foot down.”

  I laughed. “That sounds good to me.”

  Landon framed my face with his hands, resting his forehead against mine. “I want this week to be over.”

  “You want to go back to work?”

  “I want to go back to … sanity.”

  “Since when do you equate my family with sanity?”

  “Since your family met my family and life exploded,” Landon replied.