Life's a Witch (17 page)

“Says you,” Thistle sputtered. “I don’t get on anyone’s nerves.”

Marcus, Landon and I snorted in unison.

“You’re officially drunk,” Landon said.

The sound of partying filled our ears as we approached Hollow Creek, causing us to slow our pace and strain to listen. We made out the typical party sounds of whoops and yells that usually accompany teenage alcohol consumption.

“Are they supposed to be out here?” Marcus asked, tugging Thistle closer to his side. “Isn’t this a crime scene?”

“We couldn’t keep it cordoned off,” Landon replied. “It’s too big, and it’s state land. We had it for twenty-four hours, and then we had to open it back up.”

“What do you want to do?” I asked.

Landon smirked. “I kind of want to put a scare into them.”

“That sounds fun,” Thistle enthused. “Let’s do that.”

Landon led the way, keeping me behind him as Marcus herded Thistle ahead of him and brought up the rear. When we pushed through the trees, no one noticed us right away. Then Charlie Johnson Jr., a red plastic cup gripped in his hand as he glanced in our direction, handled things in a mature and serene matter.

“Cops! It’s the cops! Run for your lives!”

The kids broke out into screams and scattered, some racing into the water – even though there was nowhere to go once they got there – and others fleeing into the woods. Landon reached out and snagged Charlie by the back of his shirt before he could run.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Charlie whined. “I was just … .”

“Screaming like a girl?” Landon suggested.

“No. I … .”

Landon ignored him. “Everyone stop screaming and stay where you are,” he bellowed. “If you make me run after you, I’ll arrest you and you’ll never get a job as an adult.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered.

“Shh.” Landon winked at me. “Who’s in charge of this little shindig?”

No one stepped forward, which wasn’t surprising.

Landon yanked on Charlie’s collar. “Are you in charge?”

“No,” Charlie protested, his eyes widening. “Dakota did it!” He pointed toward the boy trying to hide in the shadows on the other side of the bonfire. “He’s the one.”

“You’re nothing if not predictable, Charlie,” I said.

Landon smirked. “Are you the one who said I was going to shoot someone’s thing off if they looked at my girl?”

Charlie was too afraid to answer.

“That’s probably the one smart thing you’ve ever said,” Landon said, releasing Charlie and focusing on Dakota. “Do you want to come over here, please?”

Dakota reluctantly shuffled forward, puffing out his chest in a show of false bravado for his peers. “What?”

“Did you throw this party?”

“It’s a party,” Dakota replied. “Who cares how it started?”

“That’s not an answer,” Landon challenged.

“Why do you want to know?” Dakota wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Because I want to know who the idiot is who decided to arrange a party where someone you all knew recently died,” Landon replied, not missing a beat. “I want to find that idiot and shake his hand. Really, guys. This was a great idea.”

“We were having a wake,” Charlie squeaked.

“This doesn’t look like any wake I’ve ever been to,” I said.

“That’s ’cause you’re old.”

I had no idea who said it, but I lifted my head and scanned the crowd anyway. Next to me, Landon shook with silent laughter as he tried to keep himself together.

“That is not funny,” I hissed.

“Oh, I like that my girlfriend is part of the Geritol crowd,” Landon said, forcing his face back to stern before addressing the teenagers again. “All right, here’s what’s going to happen … .” When no one looked in his direction, Landon clapped his hands to get their attention. “Hey, idiots, eyes over here! If you want to leave without getting a ticket for underage drinking, you will file past us now.”

“That’s it? You’re not going to arrest us?” Charlie looked relieved.

“I’m not going to arrest you,” Landon confirmed. “If you expect to leave here without a ticket, though, each and every one of you will hand over your keys to Marcus before going. If that doesn’t happen, I’ll start writing tickets.”

It was a bluff. Landon didn’t carry citation books. Can the FBI even hand out civil infraction tickets?

The assembled teens began to grumble.

“I don’t care how angry you are,” Landon said. “If you want to leave, those are the terms.”

“How are we supposed to get home?” Dakota asked.

“I guess you’ll have to call your parents for rides,” Landon replied.

“We’ll get in trouble,” Charlie complained.

“You should’ve thought about that before you threw a party where a dead body was found,” Landon shot back. “Now, who wants to leave?”

The teenagers reluctantly formed a line, filing past Marcus and handing him their keys as they trudged away from the creek. Landon kept his eyes on them, fighting to keep a straight face when Dakota shot him a dirty look while passing. The area was almost empty when Dakota swiveled around.

“How are we supposed to get our keys back?”

“They’ll be at the police station tomorrow,” Landon replied, clearly enjoying himself. “You can pick them up there.”

“Oh, great,” Dakota grumbled. “I guess we’ll be getting a lecture from Chief Terry while we’re at it.”

“I have no idea whether he’ll have time for that,” Landon replied. “Don’t forget to take your parents with you when you show up, though. Anyone who tries to claim their keys without a legal guardian won’t get them.”

“What?” Charlie looked as if he was about to pass out. “My father is going to kill me.”

“Your father was in this exact situation a few times in his life I’m sure,” I countered.

“So you think I won’t get in trouble?” Charlie visibly brightened.

“Oh, you’re definitely going to get in trouble,” Thistle interjected. “Your dad is just going to be a hypocrite when he grounds you.”

Once we were sure they were all gone, Marcus doing a double loop to ensure we had privacy, Landon set me free to do my thing. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do without a ghost.

“Can’t you make him show up?”

I rolled my eyes. “We’ve been over this before. I don’t control the ghosts. I can only communicate with them.”

“It would be more fun if you could control them,” Thistle said. “Then you could send them to haunt Aunt Willa and Rosemary.”

“That would be fun,” I said, stepping away from Landon. He and Marcus opted to clean up the mess – diligent citizens that they are – and focused on their task instead of watching me. I didn’t miss Thistle using the abandoned keg to fill her own cup out of the corner of my eye. She was going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow. “I’m not sure … .” I stilled when I caught a hint of movement by the water’s edge. “Nathaniel?”

Landon jerked his head up, handing the bag in his hand to Marcus before moving closer to me. “Is he here?”

“I think so,” I murmured, straining my eyes in the darkness. He was there. I couldn’t really see him as much as feel his presence. He was suspicious. I couldn’t blame him. He’d been stabbed eight times and dumped in the creek. We weren’t familiar faces.

“Ask who killed him,” Landon instructed.

I shot him an annoyed look. “Really? I never would’ve thought of that.”

“Don’t get mouthy.”

“You don’t get mouthy,” I muttered, taking a step away from Landon. “Nathaniel, my name is Bay Winchester. My family owns The Overlook. Do you know who I am?”

The bonfire still burned, but the shadows were large outside of the ring of light. It was hard to see his face as he drifted farther down the shoreline.

“Is he talking?”

I shook my head and mimed zipping my lips for Landon’s benefit before turning back to Nathaniel. “I know this must seem scary for you,” I said, keeping my voice soft and pleasant. “You’re probably confused and … searching … for something to cling to. I can help you, if you let me.”

Nathaniel floated a few more feet and turned his attention to the water, staring intently. I took another step toward him. “Do you know what happened to you?”

Nathaniel didn’t answer. Instead he lifted his arm and pointed toward the water. He was trying to show me something. I carefully picked my way through the heavy brush, stopping when I reached his side. Nathaniel didn’t move his arm or his gaze. I peered into the water, but it was too dark to see anything.

I dug into my pocket for my cell phone and touched the button to turn it into a flashlight, lowering it closer to the water in an attempt to glean what Nathaniel was trying to show me. I didn’t see anything at first, but the light glinted off something at the bottom of the water when I shifted the phone.

“Landon, do you have one of those bag things?”

Landon glanced around and grabbed a plastic grocery bag from the ground. “Not exactly. What do you have?” He stepped next to me and I pointed to the water. “What is that?”

“Did you find something?” Thistle asked, sipping her beer.

Marcus finally realized what she was doing and knocked the cup out of her hand. “No more alcohol.”

“Hey! I’m an adult. I can drink if I want to.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you’re hungover tomorrow and have a headache,” Marcus countered. “I don’t want to hear it.” He’s generally passive and lets Thistle have her way, but when he does stand up to her, she has a tendency to listen.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “I guess I’ve had enough.”

“Bay, point that light a little higher,” Landon instructed, reaching into the water and digging around. He returned after a few moments with a large knife in his hand, the handle made of white plastic and the blade notched and dangerous looking. “Well, I guess we found the murder weapon.”

I glanced at Nathaniel. “Do you know who killed you?”

He didn’t answer, instead fading into the darkness.

“Did he answer you?” Landon asked, straightening.

“No.”

“Well, we’re still better off than when we started,” he said, dropping the knife into the bag and tying it shut. “I told you that you were helpful, no matter what you think.”

“I guess you should take me everywhere with you then, huh?” I teased.

Landon smiled. “I’ve considered it. Come on. Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing left for us here … at least not tonight.”

“I don’t feel so well,” Thistle mumbled, clutching her stomach.

“If you puke in my truck we’re going to have problems, Thistle,” Landon warned. “You’re going to clean it up, too.”

“Don’t worry,” Thistle replied. “I’m not going to make it that far.” She doubled over at the waist and vomited, causing everyone to look in a different direction.

“And you said we wouldn’t have fun,” Marcus said, patting her back as he smiled ruefully in our direction. “I can’t take her anywhere.”

“I can honestly say that nights with you are never boring,” Landon said, shaking his head. “I can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing right now.”

He wasn’t the only one.

Seventeen

“Do you think we should go inside and help Marcus put Thistle to bed?” I asked, shifting on the lounger behind the guesthouse an hour later and glancing toward the window. I could hear Marcus talking to Thistle, although I had no idea what he was saying.

“She’s not our responsibility,” Landon replied, pulling me closer to him as we relaxed. “We didn’t drink too much and make fools of ourselves.”

“Not tonight,” I clarified. “We’ve done it before.”

“Yes, well … we were the good ones tonight,” Landon said. “We should be rewarded for not being dumbasses.”

“That sounds like a fun rule,” I said, giggling as Landon tickled my ribs. “Thank you for being so good with my father tonight.”

Landon sighed. “I knew you were going to take this to a serious place,” he said. “Can’t you ever just have fun?”

“I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“So did I until you put your serious face on,” Landon replied. “Sweetie, I didn’t do anything special tonight. You’re the one who put things together so you could try to have a new beginning. Try thanking yourself occasionally.”

“Oh, and to think I was going to offer to rub myself in bacon grease as a reward.”

Landon smirked. “We’ll do that tomorrow night.”

We lapsed into amiable silence, Landon cuddling me closer as we enjoyed each other’s silent company. Eventually Thistle’s bedroom light switched off, which meant she was either done puking for the night – or taking a welcome respite.

“She’s going to feel terrible tomorrow,” I said.

“She is,” Landon agreed. “She should be a ball of fun at breakfast. She doesn’t have a filter on a good day. On a day when she’s hungover, she should be downright terrible.”

“Maybe we should hide the knives and sharp objects.”

“Maybe we should go into town for breakfast and let them duke it out without us,” Landon countered.

“We can do that.”

Landon nudged me forward so he could slip his hands around my shoulders, digging in and causing me to groan as he kneaded out the day’s stress. “Oh, that feels good.”

“If you want it to last more than five minutes, you won’t make those sounds,” Landon said. “They give me ideas.”

“You always have ideas.”

“I’m a smart man.”

We lapsed into silence again, enjoying the night until … . I lifted my head. “Did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear anything but you moaning,” Landon replied. “Why? What did you hear?”

I tilted my head to the side, listening hard. There it was again. Someone was talking. To be more precise, someone was laughing. “I think someone is up by the clearing,” I said.

Landon stilled. “How close is that clearing to the pot field?”

“Not very close,” I replied. “Why? Do you think it’s kids looking for pot?”

“Either that or Aunt Tillie is about to sacrifice someone to her goddess,” Landon said, pushing me to my feet. “Come on. We need to check that out just in case.”

“What if it is kids looking for the pot field?”

“Then I’ll arrest them.”

“You would have to admit there’s a pot field if you did that,” I reminded him.