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Authors: Amanda M. Lee

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BOOK: Life's a Witch
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“That’s pretty sweet.”

“I have my moments.”

“It’s also schmaltzy,” I said. “I didn’t know you were that schmaltzy.”

“I think you make me schmaltzy,” Landon said, tickling my ribs. “Don’t let your head get too big, though. You’re also a pain in the ass, and your family gives me heartburn.”

I sobered. “I’m sorry about all of this,” I said. “You came here for a relaxing weekend, and it’s been anything but relaxing. We have only two days left together before you have to leave again.”

“I don’t like leaving either,” Landon said. “I don’t really have a choice. I’ve been trying to get over here at least one day during the week, too. That’s how much I miss you.”

“What we really need is a case here in Hemlock Cove. Then you could stay and work at the same time.”

Landon grinned. “Please don’t go out and kill someone simply because you want me close,” he said. “As flattering as that would be, I would prefer not having to lock you up.”

“I’ll consider it. You’re pretty cute, though. It might be worth a murder to keep you around.”

Landon rolled on top of me, pressing his lips to mine to let me know what he had in mind. He pulled back long enough to study me for a moment. “Are we going up to the inn for breakfast?”

“Do you want to try to subsist on the crumbs in the toaster? That’s all we have for food.”

“Fine. We’ll go up there. Breakfast had better be good, though.”

“Isn’t it always?” I asked.

“Generally,” Landon said. “I’m going to need something to entice me to put up with those horrible people, though.”

“I gave you a naked massage last night.”

“And that was a nice start,” Landon said. “Now I want to give you a naked massage.”

“I guess I can live with that.”

“That’s good,” Landon said, moving his mouth to my neck. “This would be so much better if you smelled and tasted like bacon, though.”

Wait … was that an insult?

 

“I CAN’T
believe Thistle and Marcus abandoned us,” I muttered, entering The Overlook through the back door an hour later. “Thistle said she actually would rather eat toast crumbs than risk breakfast up here.”

“Clove was the smart one,” Landon said. “She spent the night at the Dandridge, so she has a ready-made excuse for not being at breakfast.”

“Yeah, she lucked out there.”

“I’m just glad the inn is still standing,” Landon said. “Do you think we cut it close enough to mealtime to avoid an uncomfortable meeting with your mother in the kitchen?”

“Probably not.”

The back of the inn serves as private quarters for my mother and aunts. It’s accessible only through the kitchen, and guests wouldn’t dare enter. I wasn’t surprised to find Aunt Tillie sitting on the couch watching a morning news program. Her outfit did surprise me – although at this point nothing she wears should give me pause.

“What are you doing?” Landon asked.

Aunt Tillie, her combat helmet firmly in place, glanced up. “I’m deciding whether the world is going to end today.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you’re not taking this to extremes or anything,” I said, smirking. “Where did you get those pants, by the way? I thought you gave up yoga pants.”

“These are not yoga pants,” Aunt Tillie countered. “They’re active wear.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not,” Aunt Tillie argued. “Yoga pants can be used only for yoga. I read it online somewhere. Active pants can be worn anywhere you want to be active.”

“I see,” I said, pursing my lips to keep from laughing. Her “active pants” had zombie faces on them. I looked a little closer and realized they also had faces of
The Walking Dead
heroes. That was her favorite show these days – she fancied herself the Daryl of our group – and she was biding her time until it came back on the air. “Is there a reason you’re wearing zombies on your active pants?”

“They fit my mood.”

“Are you saying you’re one of the walking dead or that you’re going to make Willa and Rosemary part of that tribe?” Landon asked. “I can’t hang around for breakfast if you’re going to kill someone.”

“He needs to give me time to hide the body,” Aunt Tillie said, winking.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Landon said, widening his eyes to comical proportions.

I shifted my eyes to the kitchen door, my heart flopping. “Have you seen Mom this morning?”

“Are you asking whether she’s going to make you one of the walking dead?”

“I … .”

Aunt Tillie shook her head. “Your mother understands why you guys took off last night, even if she can’t admit it right now,” she said. “She doesn’t blame you. She’s not thrilled that you left her holding the bag – and by bag I mean that Willa has all the appeal of a bag of cat guts – but she doesn’t blame you for leaving.”

That didn’t sound at all like my mother. “Did anything happen after we left?”

“It was a perfectly normal meal.”

That could mean anything. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Aunt Tillie protested. “I was on my best behavior.”

Landon barked out a laugh. “She did something,” he said. “Let’s go in and find out what it is. I want to eat as fast as possible and get out of here.”

“What do you want to do after breakfast?”

“Isn’t this town having a festival? In fact, isn’t this town always having a festival?”

I nodded. “We’ll go to the festival,” he said. “I’ll win you another stuffed animal. I think that story of no guy ever winning you a stuffed animal at a carnival is pathetic and now I want to win you one at every festival. We can eat junk food until we throw up. Then we won’t want to eat dinner, and we’ll have a handy excuse to live like monks for the rest of the night.”

“I see you have this all figured out.”

“He’s a pervert. Of course he has it all figured out,” Aunt Tillie supplied.

Landon glared at her. “You’re starting to bug me.”

“Then I haven’t been doing my job correctly,” Aunt Tillie shot back, climbing off the couch and shuffling toward the kitchen. “I should’ve passed the ‘start’ mark yesterday. Come on, pervert. I’m sure they have bacon, and you have a busy day planned.”

Landon watched her go, his face unreadable.

“I kind of like that you’re a pervert,” I offered.

He fought to keep a straight face … and ultimately lost. “What do you think your mother is going to say about those pants she’s wearing?”

“I think my mother is already overloaded. The pants might do her in.”

“Well, come on,” Landon said, grabbing my hand. “I need to see Willa’s face when she sees those pants.”

He wasn’t the only one.

We were the last to arrive in the dining room, and Mom scorched me with a look – which I decided to ignore – as the rest of the guests happily chatted. Aunt Willa was another story. She and Rosemary were quiet and composed, but there was a definite air of tension in the room as they stared at Aunt Tillie’s ensemble.

“Good morning everyone,” Landon said, taking his usual spot next to Aunt Tillie.

I sat next to him, offering Twila and Marnie tight smiles while trying to avoid eye contact with my mother.

“How was your night, Bay?” Rosemary asked.

“I slept well. Thank you. How was your night, Rosemary?”

“The bed was lumpy.”

I darted a worried look in my mother’s direction and saw the clenching of her jaw. All the mattresses at the inn were less than a year old. I’d slept on two of them and knew the beds were comfortable. “That’s too bad,” I said. “Other than that, how was your night?”

“I guess you didn’t hear what happened last night,” Aunt Willa interjected. “You ran off and missed the big show.”

Uh-oh. “What big show?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mom said.

Something told me that wasn’t true. Something also told me that if Mom told the story yelling might be involved. “Okay.” I grabbed the platter of pancakes and held them so Landon could dish some onto our plates. “What is everyone doing today?”

“We’re going to the festival,” Marnie replied. “Aunt Willa and Rosemary want to see the town and Hypnotic. We’re going to make a day of it. What are you guys doing?”

Landon made a face, his plans going up in smoke. “We haven’t decided yet,” he said. “We might just hang around the guesthouse.”

“I thought you were going to the festival?” Aunt Tillie teased. “Wasn’t there some bold talk of winning stuffed animals for Bay?”

“Things change. Move along.” Landon used his best no-nonsense tone, but Aunt Tillie wasn’t about to be dissuaded.

“No. You said you were going to the fair to get sick on junk food so you could avoid dinner tonight.”

So much for us being allies. “What did you do last night that has everyone so upset?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Aunt Tillie challenged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why do you always assume I’ve done something?”

“Because we know you,” Landon replied, nonplussed. “You’ve obviously done something. I’ve seen happier people at natural disaster sites.”

“I think we should all go to the festival together,” Mom announced, taking me by surprise.

“I think that’s a terrible idea,” Landon said.

“Yeah, I’m not going to the festival,” Aunt Tillie said. “The people in town give me gas.”

Most of the guests snickered.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” Mom clarified. “I think that the rest of us should go as a family, though. How does that sound?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sick,” I answered, knowing I was digging myself deeper but unable stop myself. “I feel a plague coming on.”

“I think I’m going to be sick with her,” Landon added. “We’ll probably be bed ridden.”

“Pervert,” Aunt Tillie muttered.

“You’re not sick,” Mom said. “Everyone is going.” Now she used her no-nonsense tone.

“Mom … .”

“Don’t even bother arguing, Bay,” Mom replied. “After last night, you owe me.”

“She doesn’t owe you anything,” Landon countered. “If she doesn’t want to go … .”

“Don’t push me,” Mom warned.

“Don’t push me,” Landon shot back. “I … .”

The sound of someone clearing his throat by the main dining room door caused everyone to turn in that direction, killing the potential argument. Chief Terry, Hemlock Cove’s top cop, shuffled uncomfortably as he watched the scene.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said.

“You’re not interrupting,” Mom replied, hopping to her feet. “Have a seat. The pancakes are still warm.”

“So is the bacon,” Marnie said, lifting the plate. My mother and aunts were locked in a never-ending competition to see who could win Chief Terry’s affection. I have no idea what would happen if one of them ever actually took first place.

Landon reached around me and grabbed three slices from the plate, earning a dark look from Marnie. “Have a seat,” he said. “You too can enjoy our breakfast from hell for the low, low price of being someone who doesn’t want to kill me.”

“I’m not sure what that means, but I’m not here on a social call,” Chief Terry said.

Landon shifted in his chair, his sarcastic mirth turning to worry. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m glad you’re in town this weekend. We found a body.”

“What kind of body?”

“A dead one, pervert,” Aunt Tillie supplied.

Landon wagged a threatening finger in her face. “I’m going to make those active wear pants come true if you’re not careful.”

Aunt Tillie rolled her eyes. “Promises, promises.”

“Who died?” I asked.

“I’m not at liberty to say just yet,” Chief Terry replied. “I need Landon to go out to the scene with me.”

Landon and I exchanged a look. “I guess I’m on the job,” he said. “I would worry you did this, but I know where you’ve been the last twenty-four hours.”

“Ha, ha.”

He brushed a quick kiss against my cheek and stood, grabbing his bacon for the trip. “Can you drive? My truck is at the guesthouse.”

“Sure,” Chief Terry said. “I’m sorry for ruining your day.”

“Oh, you haven’t ruined our day,” Mom said, her voice full of faux sugar. “Now Bay doesn’t have an excuse to ditch the festival.”

My heart sank as my stomach rolled.

“Actually she does,” Landon said, causing hope to flare. “I need her to come to the scene with me.”

Aunt Willa frowned. “You’re taking Bay to see a dead body? That doesn’t sound very sanitary.”

“I need her to … look things over and tell us what she sees,” Landon explained.

“Why?” Rosemary was confused.

“Because I need her with me,” Landon replied, glancing at Chief Terry for support. “You don’t care if she comes, do you?”

Chief Terry shrugged. He knew something was going on, and even though he wasn’t sure what it was, he clearly wasn’t in the mood to argue. “The more the merrier.”

“Oh, darn,” I said, standing and gracing my mother with a rueful smile. “I guess I’m going to miss out on the festival. What a bummer.” She couldn’t argue with Landon and Chief Terry about the necessity of my presence at the scene without tipping Aunt Willa and Rosemary about why they wanted me there.

“Fine,” Mom said, giving in. “This isn’t over, though. We will have a talk about this.”

“I can’t wait.”

 

Eight

“Does anyone want to tell me what was going on at breakfast?” Chief Terry asked, navigating his Dodge Durango from The Overlook’s driveway and heading out of town. “Things seemed tense.”

“Oh, no. That’s how they always are,” I replied from the back seat.

“No one needs your sarcastic tone, missy,” Chief Terry warned, although his eyes twinkled as they met mine in the rearview mirror. He never stayed angry with me.

“It’s … a long story,” I said, adjusting my attitude. It wasn’t Chief Terry’s fault my mother wanted to kill me.

“We have twenty minutes until we get to Hollow Creek,” Chief Terry replied. “Spill.”

“My Aunt Willa is in town,” I started. “She brought Rosemary.”

Chief Terry furrowed his brow. “Rosemary? Isn’t she the cousin who terrorized you at camp that one summer?”

“How do you know that?” Landon asked, surprised.

“I know everything about Bay,” Chief Terry replied. “She had a rough childhood sometimes. That Rosemary teamed up with Lila. I remember that because she was upset. I don’t like it when she’s upset. I’m a softie where she’s concerned. Why are they here?”

BOOK: Life's a Witch
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ads

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