Witching You Were Here (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 3) (19 page)

“We could call Chief Terry,” I said finally.

“Not until we know what is in the crate,” Thistle said firmly.

“We can’t open it without him,” I replied.

“Are you afraid there’s drugs in there?” Clove asked fearfully.

“I’m afraid that if there’s not drugs in here, and we call he police, then it’s going to be really hard to explain to my dad,” Thistle admitted.

She had a point.

“We can come back after the blizzard,” I said finally.

“What if it’s gone by then?” Thistle asked.

“Then we’ll just keep checking.” I didn’t want to push Thistle too far. With the cold sore and all, she was liable to crack.

Clove nodded her silent assent. She just wanted to get out of here. We left the crate where we found it and headed back out of the Dragonfly, making sure to lock the front door when we left this time.

“Well, this was a waste of time,” Clove announced when we were out in the open air. She looked relieved to be out in the open – even with the impending storm heading our way.

I glanced up at the sky, watching as the snowflakes started to fall on us lightly. The storm wasn’t quite here – at least not yet. It was getting closer, though.

“We had to look,” Thistle said wearily. “It would have just driven us nuts when we’re cooped up during the storm if we hadn’t.”

“It wouldn’t have driven me nuts,” Clove countered.

“Fine, “ Thistle said irritably. “It would have driven the two of us nuts. You would have been fine.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Clove protested.

“Oh, just shut up.”

We were walking back towards the car when we heard the unmistakable sound of a car driving up the road. Crap. I grabbed Clove’s arm instinctively and started dragging her into the woods.

“What are you doing,” she slapped at my hand.

“We have to hide.”

“We’ll just say we’re lost.”

“I don’t want them to see us,” Thistle said. “Especially if it’s my dad. She’s right; we have to hide.”

Thistle helped me drag Clove into the woods and we crouched behind a clump of trees to hide ourselves. We didn’t have a clear view of the Dragonfly from our locale, but I didn’t want to move in case that drew attention to us.

The car, a dark SUV, pulled up in front of the inn – pulling right up to the front porch. I could hear three people getting out of the SUV and heading towards the inn. Unfortunately, because of the trees, I couldn’t see any of them, though.

“This is going to be one hell of a storm,” one of the men said.

“That’s why we had to do this now. We’re not going to be able to get back out here for a couple of days. This is going to be one of the last roads they plow.”

“How is everything else going?”

“Right on schedule.”

“So, we’re moving forward?” The third voice piped in. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. I would have to think on that later.

“Things should be fine,” the second voice said. “As long as we keep the Winchester women out of this, things should be fine. They’re the only ones that could stop us now.”

“What if they find out?”

“Then we’ll have to find a way to keep them quiet.”

“And what way would that be?”

“Whatever way we can think of.”

Once all three men had disappeared into the inn, we made a break for it. We kept along the tree line until we were out of sight and then raced to Thistle’s car. Once inside, Thistle fumbled with the keys before she managed to slip them into the ignition. She spun out on the road in an effort to drive away quickly.

“It’s not going to do us any good if you get stuck in the ditch,” I said grimly.

“I know.”

Once we were safely away, we took a few minutes to catch our breath. “They’re going to kill us next,” Clove finally blurted out.

“That’s not what they said,” Thistle corrected her. “They said they had to keep us quiet.”

“And what do you think that means?” Clove was close to hyperventilating at this point.

“We don’t know that they’re going to kill us,” Thistle shot back.

“Did you recognize anyone?” I asked in a low voice.

“No,” Thistle shook her head. “I’m was looking for anything that would tip me off that it was him, but I can’t be sure.”

“I can’t be sure either,” I agreed. I didn’t mention that one of the voices had seemed familiar to me. I would have to think on that some more.

“So, are we heading back home?” Thistle asked finally.

“Let’s stop at the store in town first,” I suggested. “We need to get the cold sore medicine and this is going to be our last chance.”

“It’s snowing,” Clove said.

“It’s Michigan,” Thistle shot back.

When we got to town, the entire main drag was empty. We all rushed into the small pharmacy to grab a few things and then we were back out to the car within fifteen minutes. The store owner, a nice old man named Mr. Hunter, warned us about the roads.

“You girls take your time getting home,” he said. “This one looks like it’s going to be a doozy. I wouldn’t leave again tonight.”

“That’s the plan,” Thistle said. “This was our last stop.”

“You be careful,” he cautioned us one more time.

The snow was really starting to come down now. We all raced towards Thistle’s car, Clove taking a big spill in the middle of the road because it was so slick as we went.

Thistle bent over at the waist and started laughing. “Why is it always you?”

“Just help me up,” Clove grumbled.

I reached down to grab her hand, pulling her towards me. I happened to glance towards the docks as I did. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like there were two figures walking around the abandoned boat.

Thistle walked up next to me and followed my gaze. “What is it?”

“Do you see people down there?”

Thistle scrunched up her face as she tried to see through the snow. “Kind of. I can’t be sure, though.”

I started walking towards the docks purposefully.

“Where are you going?” Clove whined. “If we don’t leave now, we’re not going to be able to get home. We’ve had two inches of accumulation in less than an hour.”

“It will just take a minute.”

Thistle shrugged at Clove and then followed me. She wasn’t about to let me disappear in a blizzard.

It took a lot longer than it normally would to walk to the docks. When we finally got there, I found that it was completely deserted.

“There’s no one here,” Clove said.

“Someone was here,” I argued.

“Maybe it was Chief Terry, making sure that the boat was secure for the storm,” Thistle suggested.

“Then where did he go?” I countered. “We would have seen him walking back to the station.”

“Maybe it was one of his officers?” Clove was desperate to get out of this storm.

Thistle turned to me seriously. “We can’t do anything about it now. We really do need to get out of this storm.”

I blew out a frustrated sigh. I knew she was right. Unfortunately for us, when we got back to the main drag of town the village's plow had already been through – and Thistle’s car was practically buried.

“See!” Clove’s voice was frustratingly high. “We’re stuck here now.”

“We’re not stuck here,” Thistle argued. “If we have to leave the car, we will.”

“And walk back to the inn? That’s ten miles.”

“Not walk,” Thistle shot back. “We’ll call Aunt Tillie and she can pick us up in the plow.”

No one really wanted that. “Let’s at least try to get the car out first.”

After a fruitless five minutes, that left us all freezing – and ready to kill one another – Thistle pulled out her cell phone and called the inn. “We’re stuck,” she said to whomever answered the phone.

“Yes, I know we should have been back home an hour ago,” Thistle said irritably. “That doesn’t change the fact that we’re still stuck downtown.”

Thistle listened for a second and then sighed. “Tell her we’re in front of the store.”

Thistle disconnected and shoved her phone back in her pocket. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

We all looked up when we heard the sound of a vehicle. I was relieved when I saw that it was Landon. He pulled up to us and climbed out of his SUV, leaving it running as he did so.

“You stuck?”

“No, we just like standing here in the snow,” Thistle said sarcastically.

Landon raised his eyebrows at her. “Nice attitude. I could just leave you here, if you want.”

“Go ahead,” Thistle challenged him. “Aunt Tillie is on her way.”

“You’re in a mood,” I grumbled and turned to Landon. “I think it’s a lost cause.”

“I’ve got a tow rope in the back. I could try to pull you out.”

“You could get stuck in the process,” I replied.

“Then I guess we’ll all be riding back with Aunt Tillie,” he sighed. “Let me at least give it a shot.”

The three of us moved up on the sidewalk to watch Landon work. Once he had everything secured like he wanted, he looked to us expectantly. “One of you has to be in the car to help.”

“It’s Thistle’s car,” I said.

Thistle blew a giant raspberry with her tongue and then hiked back through the snow and climbed into the car.

Once Landon was inside of his truck, he turned to her. “You ready?”

“This isn’t going to work,” she complained.

“Not with that attitude,” Landon agreed.

He started to accelerate his truck in an effort to pull Thistle’s car out of the snow bank, but his tires were having trouble finding traction. After a few minutes of not moving, Thistle turned to me. “Men are idiots,” she mouthed from the car.

I nodded in agreement. We were going to have to use shovels to get that car out, and that wasn’t going to be an option for days.

Landon gave one more hard tug with his truck. Instead of pulling Thistle’s car out, though, it had the opposite effect. The rope actually tugged his truck backwards and he was suddenly spiraled into the snowdrift right alongside Thistle. He didn’t look happy.

He got back out of his SUV and untied the towrope. “That’s not going to work.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him. “I’m fairly certain we told you that.”

“Get in and I’ll drive you to the inn,” he said irritably.

I cast a dubious look at his truck, now stuck in its own patch of snowplow drift, and shook my head. “You’re stuck, too.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

Landon climbed back in his truck in an effort to prove he wasn’t stuck. One look at his face, though, as his tires spinned helplessly beneath his vehicle and I knew I had been right.

Landon jumped back out of the truck and glared in my direction. “I’m blaming you for this.”

Thistle was climbing back out of her car. “It’s not her fault. She told you that it wouldn’t work. You had to be pigheaded, though. Men always know what’s best, right?”

“Are you always such a pain?”

“Most of the time,” Thistle replied airily. “You’ll get used to it.”

Landon put his hands on his hips defiantly. “When is your Aunt Tillie getting here?”

I pointed down the street. “Here she comes now.”

Landon turned and I couldn’t stifle my laughter when I saw his mouth drop open at the sight of Aunt Tillie and her truck. The Ford pickup was big, indescribably big. It was two-toned, blue and gray, and it had an industrial-sized plow on the front of it. Aunt Tillie was so small, she could barely see over the steering wheel as she drove towards us. She skidded to a stop when she saw us and rolled down the window irritably.

“You act like you’ve never been in a blizzard before,” she griped. “I’m so embarrassed that it’s my nieces that got snowed in. How will I live this down at the senior center?”

“You’re banned from the senior center,” Thistle shot back.

“I’m not banned,” Aunt Tillie said primly. “I’m just on a time out.”

“That’s better?” Landon looked at me.

“It’s all semantics with Aunt Tillie,” I smiled.

Everyone gathered their belongings from their vehicles and then headed for the truck. Clove and Thistle climbed in the back and settled on the very small and uncomfortable pull-down seats there. Luckily it wasn’t a long ride back to the inn. I climbed up into the front seat and scooted along until I was in the middle spot. Then I turned to Landon expectantly. “Are you coming?”

“Maybe I should drive,” he glanced at Aunt Tillie nervously.

“This is my truck,” she barked out.

“Do you even have a driver’s license?”

“Do you want me to leave you here?” Aunt Tillie countered.

Landon looked like he was actually considering it and then he blew out a sigh and climbed into the truck next to me. “Are you sure you can get us there in one piece?”