Life's a Witch (14 page)

“She also said he was a poor worker and he took her to a few parties at Hollow Creek before deciding she was too young to hang out there and rescinding the invitation,” I continued. “She seemed … lost.”

Landon rubbed the back of his neck as he considered what I told him. “How easy is it to get pot around here?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t tried since I was in high school, but I’ll bet if I was motivated I could find some.”

“Yes, but you have a great-aunt growing her own little field right on your property,” Landon said, making a face. “You wouldn’t have to look too hard.”

“I wasn’t including Aunt Tillie in that scenario,” I countered. “She’s not known as a sharer. If I was looking for product I probably wouldn’t even consider her.”

“That doesn’t mean someone else wouldn’t,” Landon said. “I don’t suppose you’ve talked about this with her, have you?”

I shifted uncomfortably, drawing my eyes away from Landon and staring at the bookshelf across the room.

“You know, Bay, if you keep stuff like this from me it’s going to cause problems,” Landon said, his voice even. “I know you want to tell me. I also know you’re loyal to Aunt Tillie. I don’t know what to tell you on that front. You have to make a choice, though.”

“I already made the choice,” I said, forcing my eyes back to his. “I just … she’s my aunt.”

“I know she is,” Landon said sympathetically. “Sweetie, I don’t want to put you in this position. Maybe … .”

“I have more to tell you,” I said, cutting him off. “I just don’t want to get in a fight.”

“Well, that’s not my first choice of evening activities either.”

“Are you staying in town now that there’s a murder?”

Landon jolted at my conversational shift. “Will it make you feel better if I say yes?”

I nodded.

“I decided to stay before this conversation,” Landon said. “I called my boss earlier and told him what was going on. He made fun of me for being whipped, and then officially tasked me here until the murder’s solved.”

“Are you going to stay even if we fight?”

“Bay, you’re killing me here,” Landon grumbled. “We’re not going to fight. Okay? Just tell me what you need to tell me, and we’ll go from there.”

He was trying to soothe me, but I didn’t think he could keep his “no-fight” promise. “Chloe told me that Nathaniel tried to steal pot from Aunt Tillie’s field about a week and a half ago because he needed more product,” I said. “I questioned Aunt Tillie about it and she said someone tried to get past the wards … but couldn’t.

“I made her promise to stay out of the field while this is going on and strengthen the wards,” I continued, hurrying through all of the information. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid. “She agreed. She also said she cursed law enforcement with diarrhea when they try to find her pot field, and promised to make sure Annie doesn’t have the wrong idea about you.”

Whew. I felt better. I risked a glance at Landon and found his face rigid.

“That’s a lot of information, Bay,” Landon said. “Thank you for having her talk to Annie. I don’t like that the kid is afraid of me. The diarrhea was an overshare. As for the pot field … well … I’m not surprised that kids try to find it. I probably would’ve done the same thing at their age.”

I waited for him to explode. It didn’t happen. “That’s it?”

“You know I try really hard to be a reasonable man,” Landon said, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t actually like yelling at people. I especially don’t like yelling at you.”

“I think sometimes you like to yell,” I countered.

“Maybe sometimes,” Landon conceded. “I don’t like yelling at you, though. I do have a good time yelling at Aunt Tillie, and Thistle on occasion. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”

“What are you going to do about the pot field?”

“Nothing,” Landon replied, nonplussed. “There’s nothing I can do about it right now. I can’t technically prove it’s there, and I really don’t want to write in a report that I know where a pot field might be, but my magical girlfriend and her family are hiding it. I’ve opted to … let that go.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” Landon clarified. “I’m doing it for us. It’s tense enough around here without taking on the pot fight.”

He wasn’t wrong. I opened my mouth but stilled when I saw a small figure hovering in the doorway. Annie, her eyes wide, stepped into view.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Aunt Tillie said I should be nicer to Landon,” Annie said. “She said that I take what she says too … um … .” She searched for the right word.

“Literally?” I suggested.

Annie nodded. “I want Landon to know I’m not afraid of him even though he is ‘The Man,’” she said.

“Thank you,” Landon said, shaking his head as he smirked. “You know I would never do anything purposely to hurt you, right?”

“I know,” Annie said. “You just want to take all of the oregano away from Aunt Tillie. She told me to make sure you never find out I was out there helping her again today.” Annie realized what she said only when it was too late to haul it back. Instead, she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oops!”

Landon shifted his gaze to me. “Did you forget something in your retelling of the afternoon?”

Well, there goes our fight-free weekend. Crap.

“HOW
was your day?” Mom asked, her face drawn as she sat across the table from me a half hour later.

“It was delightful,” I replied, fighting off my own bout of aggravation. “I went to Hollow Creek and saw a dead body. Then I talked to a grieving teenage girl. Then I … hung out with Aunt Tillie.”

Landon made a growling noise in the back of his throat.

“Who died?” Marnie asked.

“Nathaniel Jamison.”

“Patty Jamison’s boy?” Mom asked, her expression softening. “That’s awful. He was … young.”

“He was definitely young,” I agreed.

“How did he die?” one of the guests asked. Everyone was interested in the conversation, even though Nathaniel’s case was the last thing I wanted to talk about.

“He was … .”

“Stabbed eight times and tossed in the creek,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Don’t worry. He wasn’t bitten. He won’t come back as a zombie.”

“Thank you, Aunt Tillie,” I seethed.

“You’re welcome.”

Landon rolled his neck until it cracked, leaning back in his chair as he stared Aunt Tillie down. After Annie’s bombshell about being in the “oregano” field with Aunt Tillie all afternoon, he was largely quiet. He wasn’t yelling … but he wasn’t really talking, either.

“Did you see Patty?” Mom asked.

I dragged my gaze from Landon and shook my head. “I stopped over there to … offer my condolences … but I ran into Chloe instead.”

“How is she?”

“She’s a teenager,” I replied. “She was stoic and a little chatty.”

“We should put a care package together,” Marnie suggested.

“Definitely,” Twila agreed, bobbing her head. “We’ll bake some pies and make a casserole so they have food. The last thing they need to be thinking about now is cooking something.”

“We can drop it off tomorrow morning,” Mom murmured.

“Well, I think this is just awful,” Aunt Willa announced.

“I think that goes without saying,” Aunt Tillie said. “A young man was stabbed to death. It’s not exactly as though you’re wowing us with your insight.”

Aunt Willa narrowed her eyes. “I was talking about the rampant crime in Hemlock Cove,” she snapped. “In my day, we didn’t have boys being stabbed and dropped in the creek.”

“That’s because they hadn’t invented knives yet,” Thistle said dryly, fingering her own knife. “Now you’d probably be lucky if someone didn’t drop you in the creek.”

“Thistle!” Mom scorched my cousin with a dark look.

Thistle rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here with my quaint dinner … and my quaint murder fantasies.”

“Don’t make me come over there,” Mom warned.

“What are the police doing about this?” Aunt Willa asked, turning to Landon.

“We’re investigating,” Landon replied, stabbing a piece of chicken and tossing it in his mouth.

“It’s very early in the investigation,” I explained. “They have to talk to people before they can magically solve the case.”

“I know who did it,” Aunt Tillie said.

“If you say it was zombies I’ll strangle you,” I threatened.

“Of course it wasn’t zombies,” Aunt Tillie scoffed. “Have you listened to one thing I said? It can’t be zombies. He wasn’t bitten.”

“Who do you think it was?” Mom asked, fear flitting across her face.

“I think it was another teenager,” Aunt Tillie replied. “They’re always hanging around down at Hollow Creek.”

“Well, that narrows the suspect pool to about four hundred kids,” I muttered.

“When did you come up with this epiphany?” Landon challenged, swiveling to face Aunt Tillie. “Was it before or after you had Annie help you with your … gardening?”

“I thought people weren’t allowed in the greenhouse,” Aunt Willa interjected. “If a child can see it, surely I can see it.”

“We weren’t in the greenhouse,” Annie said from her spot between Thistle and Belinda. “We were in the oregano field.”

“Oregano?” Aunt Willa furrowed her brow. “I didn’t know you had an oregano field.”

“That’s because it’s not oregano,” Thistle offered.

“You know what, Annie? I think now would be a good time to take you into the kitchen to finish your dinner,” Belinda said, grabbing Annie’s plate and motioning for the girl to follow.

“I don’t want to eat in there,” Annie complained. “Marcus and Aunt Tillie are out here … and Aunt Tillie said I have to be nice to Landon because I’ve been being mean to him. She says he’s going to cry if I’m not careful.”

Landon scowled. “I am not going to cry.”

“I may cry,” I offered. Everyone ignored me.

“Why would you need a whole field of oregano?” Aunt Willa asked. “Are you opening a pizza parlor? Is that your next great business adventure?”

“Shut up, Willa,” Aunt Tillie ordered. “You’re being a pain in the ass.”

“Don’t talk to me that way, Tillie,” Aunt Willa demanded. “You’re being a … horrible person.”

“You always were quick with a comeback,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned.

“I told you not to take Annie out to that field with you,” Landon said. He bordered on the verge of screaming. I could feel it.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Aunt Tillie sniffed.

“What’s the big deal with oregano?” Rosemary asked. “Is it some cash crop no one is supposed to know about? Is everyone dying to try oregano around here?”

“Only if they want the munchies,” Thistle replied, causing several of the guests to snicker as they realized what she was talking about.

“I’m not supposed to touch the oregano because it will make me sick,” Annie announced, reminding everyone she was still in the room. “I have to wear gloves and never eat any brownies Aunt Tillie bakes. I took an oath.”

Thistle burst out laughing as Clove bit her bottom lip. Marcus and Sam stared at their plates while the guests chortled. My mother looked as though she was about to commit a murder – although I had no idea whether Aunt Tillie or Thistle was the intended victim. Marnie and Twila fixated on the wall on the opposite side of the table. And Aunt Willa? Well, it took her a little bit, but she finally realized what everyone was referring to.

“Omigod! Are you growing pot on the family property? That’s illegal!”

“Why don’t you say it a little louder,” Aunt Tillie deadpanned. “I don’t think the county cops can hear you until you hit the register that dogs can pick up.”

“I’m really pissed off,” Landon said, his eyes still fixed on Aunt Tillie. “I asked you to do one thing. One stinking thing. You can’t even do that.”

“Is Landon going to kill Aunt Tillie?” Annie asked Marcus.

“I have no idea,” Marcus replied, tapping the edge of her plate as Belinda returned it to the table. It was too late to head off an argument. Even though Belinda was new to our family ways, she’d picked that little tidbit up early. “Eat your dinner.”

“I don’t want Aunt Tillie to die,” Annie sniffed.

“Aunt Tillie will never die,” Thistle supplied. “Evil never dies. Don’t worry about that.”

“You’re on my list, missy,” Aunt Tillie warned, wagging her finger to get Thistle’s attention. “You’ve been off for two straight weeks. How does it feel to be back on my list?”

“It feels like I need some oregano,” Thistle replied, causing every guest at the table – check that, every guest we weren’t related to – to chuckle.

“This is the best dinner scene yet,” one of the guests whispered.

“You know what? I’m going to arrest you,” Landon said. “Yeah, I said it. I’m going to arrest you and charge you with manufacturing pot. Now you’re on my list. How do you like that?”

“You have no proof of anything,” Aunt Tillie countered. “I already promised Bay that I would stop taking Annie there. What more do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop growing pot!” Landon exploded.

“It’s oregano,” Annie corrected. “You plant things in a pot. You don’t plant the pot.”

I rubbed my forehead worriedly. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“Not yet,” Landon said, refusing to back down as Aunt Tillie tried to stare a hole through him. “You listen to me. You’d better hope I don’t find that field. If I do, I’ll burn it. Do you understand me?”

“I think you’re getting too big for your britches.”

“Oh, stuff it,” Landon muttered, grabbing my hand. “Come on. I don’t care if we have to eat toaster crumbs. I can’t take another second of this.”

I hurried to keep up with him, my heart flopping as we scampered through the house. “Are you okay?” I asked as we neared the back door. “Are you going to yell at me now?”

Landon turned quickly, but instead of the ire I expected his eyes sparkled. “I feel so much better now that I yelled at her,” he said. “Come on. I’ll take you to town for dinner.”

I stilled, surprised. “That’s it?”

“I think it’s this family,” Landon admitted. “I don’t feel normal now until I yell at someone. I can’t yell at you. I can yell at Aunt Tillie and not worry about hurting her feelings. Man, it’s as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”