Any Witch Way You Can (28 page)
He was probably right. I decided to change tactics. “I want to say thank you. You saved us.”
“I just gave you a diversion. You saved yourselves.” Landon brushed my statement off like I hadn’t even said it.
“Still, I don’t know if we would have all survived without you,” I argued.
“I think you guys probably would have found your own way,” Landon sighed.
“Can’t you just say you’re welcome?” He was starting to irritate me again.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
We lapsed into silence for a few minutes. “So, now what?” I finally asked.
“What do you mean?” Landon had opened his blue eyes and was regarding me with an emotion I couldn’t quite identify.
“Now what happens to you?”
“Oh, I’ll go back to working out of the office until I’m cleared for field duty.”
“So, you’re leaving?”
“I work out of the office in Traverse City,” he said. “So, I wouldn’t worry, I won’t be that far away.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I scoffed.
“You were worried,” he laughed, closing his eyes again. ‘You were worried you’d never see me again and you didn’t think your heart could take it.”
“Oh, please, you’re awful sure of yourself.”
“Women love me, what can I say?”
“Cocky, isn’t he?” I looked up to see Chief Terry standing in the doorway.
“Yeah, well, I don’t feel like I can argue with a guy who got shot protecting me,” I said. “I’ll have to wait until he’s feeling better.”
I got up and moved towards Chief Terry. “I’m assuming you want to talk to him?”
“Yeah,” Chief Terry said. “We have a few things to go over.”
I cast a glance back at Landon. “I’ll see you when you’re feeling better.”
Landon smiled knowingly. “I’m sure you will.”
I shook my head and turned to Chief Terry. “Why don’t you come out to dinner tonight. I’m sure everyone would be glad to see you.”
“Do you think they’ll be up for that?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re all excited,” I laughed. “They were talking about making pot roast when I left.”
“I love their pot roast,” Chief Terry’s face took on a dreamy look.
“So, see you at 7 p.m.?”
“Absolutely.”
I heard Landon and Chief Terry talking as I left. “You eat dinner with them a lot?” Landon asked curiously.
“Those are some fine women,” Chief Terry said gruffly. “And they can all cook. Of course, eating dinner out there is like going to the circus, but the food makes it worthwhile.”
“I’ll have to check it out some time,” Landon said.
“Yeah, they’re not going to like you,” Chief Terry grumbled. “Aunt Tillie will eat you for lunch.”
“I’ll wear her combat helmet for protection.”
I couldn’t help but smile to myself as he left. He might have saved our lives, but that wasn’t going to make Aunt Tillie like his hair.
Thirty-One
I slept most of the afternoon. I really wasn’t planning it, but the guesthouse was quiet when I got back. Thistle and Clove hadn’t even shut their doors. I checked on them both, but they were happily slumbering away. I planned on just laying down for a few minutes, but I didn’t wake up until late afternoon.
When I went back out into the living room, Thistle and Clove were sipping tea and watching television.
“Anything good on?”
“We’re the lead story,” Clove said excitedly.
I glanced up at the television and saw they were broadcasting a picture of the three of us – taken at last year’s town fall festival. “Where did they get that?”
“I don’t know,” Thistle said. “At least we all look good. I forgot how much I liked my hair when it was pink.”
“Are you going to dye it back?”
“Not right away. It’s worth irritating my mom with the blue for the next couple of weeks. Maybe I’ll dye it back for Christmas.”
“Well, that will be festive.”
I poured myself a cup of tea and joined them on the couch. We all watched the news coverage for a few minutes. The perky newscaster said that police were still trying to ascertain Ron and Emily’s true identities – an endeavor that was going to be mostly impossible given the state of the bodies -- and they had no idea why the couple had killed Shane and Sophie.
“Where are they?” I looked around. Neither one of them were present.
“Maybe they moved on,” Thistle said hopefully.
“They wouldn’t do that without saying goodbye.” Or at least I hoped they wouldn’t. I wanted them to find happiness, but I would miss them.
“So, how was Landon?” Clove was eying me mischievously.
“He was fine. He should be out of the hospital in a few days.”
“Did he ask you out?”
“He’s in the hospital.”
“So he didn’t ask you out?” Clove looked disappointed.
“He said he would be working out of the Traverse City office, so he’d be around,” I said. I bit my inner lip to make sure my smile wouldn’t be too wide.
“Well, that’s something,” Clove giggled.
I didn’t tell either of them about his comments regarding family dinner. The thought of that would drive them to distraction, and I wanted Thistle to bring Marcus out to soften our moms up before I brought Landon to dinner. What? I’m not selfish. Well, not entirely.
We all went up to the inn a little before 7 p.m. We had munched on cereal at the guesthouse, but we were all starving.
“I thought you were becoming a vegetarian?” I asked Thistle.
“Not on pot roast night,” she said.
I was surprised to find Shane and Sophie waiting for us outside of the inn, on the back patio. They looked like they knew we were coming.
“Hey guys, I was wondering where you went off to.”
“We didn’t want to wake you up,” Shane explained. “You were all sleeping pretty soundly.”
“Are you coming in?”
“No,” Shane said quietly. “We already said goodbye to them.”
“Goodbye?”
“We’re going to go now,” he explained. “You know, move on.”
“You are?”
“We can feel it pulling us,” Sophie answered. “It’s been a struggle to stay here long enough to say goodbye to you guys.”
“You’re being pulled?” Clove looked confused.
“I can’t explain it,” Sophie said. “I think, now that we know who killed us, there’s no reason left for us to stay.”
“We both went and said goodbye to our parents, even though they couldn’t see us,” Shane added. “I think my mom is going to be okay.”
“I hope so,” I said truthfully. “I hope you guys find what you need – on the other side.”
“We will,” Shane said knowingly. “We also know that we wouldn’t have the chance to move on if it wasn’t for you.”
“Thank you,” Sophie said earnestly. “We’ll never forget any of you.”
“We won’t forget you either,” I said. I held back tears as I saw them start to disappear. They joined hands and waved at me. Then, they were gone. “Good luck,” I told the wind. I hoped they heard me.
When we entered the inn, we found Aunt Tillie watching
Jeopardy
. She didn’t even acknowledge we’d entered the room. Her focus is profound sometimes.
“It looks like things are back to normal,” Clove laughed.
We all went into the kitchen. We weren’t surprised to see our moms bustling about as they doled out the variety of entrees and sides onto serving dishes.
“Oh, you’re here,” Aunt Twila greeted us. “We were worried you would sleep the day away.”
“We were tired,” Thistle protested.
“If you’re hair wasn’t so depressing, you probably wouldn’t be so tired,” Twila said knowingly.
Thistle gritted her teeth and turned to me. “I’m never dying it back. Never.”
We helped carry the serving dishes out into the dining room. I was surprised to see a full house waiting for us. “Doesn’t look like all the news coverage has hurt the inn,” I said.
“Oh, no, we’re booked through Christmas already,” my mom said. “People think we’re celebrities now.”
“Well, that’s good for business, I guess.”
I saw that Chief Terry was already seated. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw Marnie and Twila start to argue over who was going to sit next to him. My mom took advantage of their momentary distraction and slid into the open seat next to Chief Terry. She smiled at him warmly.
Aunt Tillie joined us a few minutes later, sitting at the head of the table, and regarding everyone assembled. She didn’t look happy to see the new guests. “I thought we’d get a break,” she grumbled.
“You don’t work anyway, so why do you care?” I never think before I speak.
Aunt Tillie glared at me. “I see you haven’t learned anything.”
“What do you mean?” I was spooning a generous helping of potatoes onto my plate. I was only half listening to her.
“I am more than just an inn owner.”
“Oh, we know that,” Thistle said.
“I’m the head of this family,” she continued.
“We know,” Clove sighed.
“I am to be loved and revered, not mocked.”
“Mocking is the Winchester way,” Thistle argued.
“It looks like you’re getting another zit, dear,” she turned to Thistle. “You really should wash your face better.”
Thistle looked panicked as she tried to catch her reflection in a spoon. “Why do you do this?”
“So you’ll remember just who is in charge.”
Like we could ever forget.
Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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