Wicked Brew (2 page)

I scowled. Now I knew why she suggested a sign.

“That’s right,” Aunt Tillie said, her eyes sparkling. “Thistle is the artistic one.”

“I’m not making you a sign,” I said.

“I want a good one,” Aunt Tillie said, ignoring my statement. “Put some flowers on it or something. Glitter might be fun, too. I want it to look good. Make sure cars can read it from the road.”

“Did you hear me? I’m not making you a sign.”

“Don’t you even think about arguing with me,” Aunt Tillie warned. “I’m not in the mood. Right now, you two aren’t on my list. You don’t want that to change.”

I swallowed hard. I certainly didn’t want that to change. I hate being on Aunt Tillie’s list. It usually ends with my pants not fitting, or a big zit in the middle of my forehead, or a noxious bacon smell emanating from my armpits. The woman is evil. “Fine,” I said. “When our mothers complain, though, you’re going to tell them you made us help.”

“Fine,” Aunt Tillie said. “If you want to be a ‘fraidy’ cat, go ahead. Blame it on the old lady.”

I rolled my eyes. “I thought you were in the prime of your life?”

“Don’t push me,” Aunt Tillie said. “I’ve had just about enough of your mouth for one day.”

Funnily enough, I was just getting warmed up. When I opened my mouth to see just how far I could push things, something else caught my eye. I was on my feet within seconds, my gaze trained on a small girl as she stumbled down the middle of the road. She seemed dazed – and lost.

“What? You’re suddenly speechless?” Aunt Tillie asked. When I didn’t return my attention to her, she followed my gaze. “Holy tarantula spiders.” Aunt Tillie was moving before I had a chance to regain my faculties.

Crap. There’s never a dull moment at The Overlook.

I followed Aunt Tillie to the road, Bay close at my heels. We all slowed our pace as we approached her. She was small, about eight years old if I had to guess. Her hair was long and dark, her pale features streaked with dirt and blood, and her green eyes were vacant.

“Are you okay, honey?” Aunt Tillie was the first one to reach the girl.

She stilled when she caught sight of us, her eyes finally focusing. She looked terrified.

Bay reached out for the girl carefully, brushing her long brown hair out of her face so she could get a better look. “Are you hurt?”

The girl didn’t answer.

Bay looked to me for help. I shrugged. I had no idea what to do in a situation like this. If you need someone ticked off, call me. If you need someone to feel better, call anyone else. I knelt down in front of the girl so I could meet her gaze on an even level. “Can you tell us your name?”

Still nothing.

Aunt Tillie snapped her fingers in front of the girl’s face, causing her to jolt and take a step backwards.

“Stop that,” I snapped, slapping Aunt Tillie’s hand away from the girl’s face. “You’re scaring her.”

“I was just trying to see if she was deaf,” Aunt Tillie sniffed.

“She’s not deaf,” Bay said, studying the side of the girl’s head seriously. “She’s hurt.”

“What do you see?”

“She’s got a bump,” Bay said. “There’s a cut right here, too. I think that’s where the blood came from.” Bay focused on the girl. “Do you have any other injuries?”

The girl didn’t make a move to respond. She didn’t shake her head, or nod. She didn’t even open her mouth. She just stood there.

“I think we need to get her inside the inn,” Bay said, straightening. “She’s unresponsive. We need to call an ambulance.”

“And the police,” I added, shooting a warm smile in the direction of the girl. “I’m sure someone is missing our little friend here.”

The girl suddenly made a move, just not the one I was expecting. She reached out and grabbed a piece of my blue hair, running it through her fingers as she studied it.

“It’s blue,” I said. “Do you like the color?”

The movement was hesitant, but the girl nodded. Well, it was something. At least we knew she understood us. I held out my hand. “Will you come with us? We can get you some food, and something to drink.”

“And hopefully find out where you belong,” Bay said.

The girl tentatively reached her hand out and placed it in mine as she let us lead her back to The Overlook. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“OH, YOU
poor thing,” Winnie cooed as she moved toward the anxious girl.

We’d only been inside for three minutes when our mothers descended with cookies, juice and fresh hand towels.

The girl visibly shrank as she buried her head into my side. I held up my free hand to ward them off. “You’re overwhelming her.”

“She’s hurt,” Mom said, nonplussed. “She needs to be taken care of.”

“Why don’t you call Landon?” I suggested to Bay. “He might be able to help us here.”

Bay nodded as she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. “I’ll do it in the other room. You know, little ears … .”

“I think we should take her to the hospital,” Marnie said. “She’s clearly been hurt.”

“I think we should feed her,” Winnie argued.

“I think I should give her a hug,” Mom said, dropping to her knees and holding her arms out wide. Mom’s first response whenever anyone is hurt – or annoyed – is always to hug, even if her Ronald McDonald hair is enough to terrify anyone with a healthy fear of clowns.

“We’re trying not to traumatize her, Mom,” I said.

Mom swished her mouth from side to side, offended. “I’m not trying to traumatize her. I’m trying to … love her.”

“Someone needs to get you a cat,” I grumbled. I glanced down at the child. “Do you want to sit at the table?”

She shook her head.

“Would you do it if you were sitting on my lap?”

The girl tilted her head to the side, considering. Finally, she nodded. I sighed as I sat down at the end of the table and patted my lap. She climbed up quickly, immediately reaching for the glass of orange juice Winnie had placed there to entice her. She slammed it so fast I thought she was going to choke herself.

“Slow down,” I said. “You can have as much of it as you want.”

“Why don’t we get her some water,” Marnie said after a minute. “I think she might be dehydrated.”

“Which means she needs food,” Winnie said.

“Fine, Winnie, she needs food,” Marnie said, rolling her eyes. “The answer to everything is food. You just have to be right. Why don’t you see if you can shove some food down her throat and really terrorize her?”

“Why don’t you shut your mouth,” Winnie snapped back.

“Why don’t you both shut your mouths,” I suggested. I glanced back at the little girl. “Do you want some food?”

She nodded, her green eyes big.

“What do you want?”

She didn’t answer.

“Do you want a sandwich? How about some soup?”

Still nothing.

“How about some cookies?” Winnie suggested.

The girl nodded enthusiastically.

Winnie disappeared into the kitchen and returned two minutes later with a plate of fresh cookies and a glass of milk. The girl shoved two of them into her mouth at the same time and munched away happily.

“She needs something more substantial than cookies,” Mom said.

“We’re having roasted chicken, vegetables, potatoes and chocolate cake for dinner,” Marnie said. “I’m sure she can find something there that she likes.”

“Do you think she’s still going to be here at dinner?” I asked.

The girl stilled on my lap and stared up at me, worried.

I realized my mistake almost immediately. “You can stay here as long as you want,” I said. “This is an inn. There are a lot of bedrooms, and there are a lot of people staying here. You’ll be safe.”

The girl didn’t look convinced.

“It’s going to be okay,” I said. “I promise.”

The girl finally started working her jaw again as she devoured the cookies. She wasn’t talking, but she was relaxing – if only a little. I’d take it, for now at least.

“LOOK
who I found out by the road selling wine.”

Landon, his hand on the nape of Aunt Tillie’s neck as he dragged her with him, strode into the dining room with a dark look on his face.

“We wondered where she was,” Bay said, giving Landon a quick kiss.

Landon grabbed her neck long enough to deepen the kiss and then turned to everyone else. “Were you aware she was selling wine at a stand like it was lemonade?”

“We knew she was going to do it,” I said. “We got distracted by … .” I lowered my eyes to the girl on my lap. She’d refused to move, and it had been more than an hour. I was going to have to figure out a way to extricate myself from her – and soon – because I really had to go to the bathroom.

“I can’t believe she used the discovery of a hurt child to go behind our backs,” Winnie said.

Landon cocked an eyebrow. “I share your outrage. It’s completely unlike her to use a distraction to get what she wants.” Landon let go of Aunt Tillie. “You stay right here,” he warned. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Aunt Tillie asked.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Landon said. “It just means I can only focus on one thing at a time. A small child wandering down a country road is more of a concern for me than you illegally selling wine that could kill the liver of a healthy adult in five minutes flat. That doesn’t mean I’m just letting that go.”

Aunt Tillie wrinkled her nose. “You’re on my list.”

“Well, then it should be a fun weekend,” Landon said, moving slowly in my direction. It was obvious he was trying to approach the girl in the easiest way possible. “Hey, sunshine,” he said, smiling widely. “How are you?”

The girl glanced up at me for support.

“This is Landon,” I said. “He’s a FBI agent. He’s one of the good guys. He can help you.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Aunt Tillie said. “He’s trying to put me in jail. He’s a bad man.”

Landon shot Aunt Tillie a look.

“A very bad man,” Aunt Tillie said.

The girl buried her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking. I hugged her gently, exchanging an apologetic look with Landon. “I think something bad happened to her.”

“I’m going to lock you up and throw away the key,” Landon growled, scorching Aunt Tillie with a look. “You’re going to be sorry you ever met me.”

“I GUESS
it’s good you don’t have any guests until the weekend,” Chief Terry said as he settled in an open chair at the dining room table.

“Yes, we love not having guests at the inn that pays our bills,” Aunt Tillie replied, moving her chicken around her plate distastefully. “I told you I wanted a pot roast tonight.”

Everyone ignored her.

“Try to eat some chicken,” I said, prodding the little girl. I’d finally managed to get her off my lap, and leave her long enough to go to the bathroom, but she’d attached herself to my hip the minute I returned to the room. I had a feeling, until we found out where she belonged, I was going to have to find a way to deal with my new shadow.

She speared a piece of chicken with her fork and shoved it in her mouth. I watched, internally sighing as she returned her fork to the plate for more. She acted like she was starving, which made me wonder if she’d been mistreated. Other thoughts were dancing through my mind – and they were dark. I could only hope something truly awful hadn’t happened to her.

“Is it good?” I asked.

The girl nodded.

“You don’t have to lie,” Aunt Tillie said, leaning over so she could garner the girl’s full attention. “They’ll still give you cookies if you don’t like the chicken. Next time, tell them that you want a pot roast. When you’re really old, or really young, you get whatever you want by pitching a fit. That’s why it’s good to be us. I’ll show you how to get your own way later.”

I thought the girl would be upset with Aunt Tillie’s suggestion, but instead she giggled. It was the first noise she’d made since we found her on the road. It was … heartwarming.

Landon pursed his lips. “I’ll arrest you for corrupting a minor,” he said, forking some chicken into his own mouth. “You’re on
my
list.”

“Oh, I’m shaking in my boots,” Aunt Tillie said. She turned to Chief Terry. “So, what do we do to help our new friend?”

I was surprised she seemed so keen on helping. This was the woman, after all, who had taken advantage of a horrible situation to make a quick buck.

Chief Terry’s smile was warm and amiable as he directed it at the girl. He was clearly trying to send a message, and that message was that he was a good guy. “Well, first, I’m going to run her fingerprints,” he said. “I brought a portable scanner, and Landon says he can upload them into the system with his laptop.

“Then, I was thinking we might want to take her to Dr. Williams and have her checked out,” he said. “He lives here in town, so it won’t be too traumatic.”

The girl shook her head from side to side violently.

“Or, we can have Dr. Williams come out here,” Chief Terry said, unruffled. “I just want to have that bump on your head checked out, sweetheart,” he said. “No one will hurt you.”

“What then?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Chief Terry said. “I guess I need to see if I can get a social worker to come out here and … .” He broke off, conflicted.

“Why can’t she just stay here?” Mom asked.

“You’re not licensed to take in foster children,” Chief Terry pointed out.

“So, we’ve raised children,” Marnie countered. “Some of them are even tolerable.”

“She clearly just needs people to take care of her,” Winnie added.

Sometimes I think they
all
need cats.

Chief Terry was being pressed on three different sides. He still had one card to play, though. “What if someone dangerous is looking for her?”

“Then that person will wish they’d never come into this house,” Aunt Tillie said, studying the girl thoughtfully. “Since she won’t speak, though, we have to give her a name.”

“Do you have any ideas?” I asked.

“I’m going to call her Basil,” Aunt Tillie said.

I wrinkled my nose. “Basil?”

“What? It’s a great name,” Aunt Tillie said.

I shook my head and focused on Chief Terry. If we called her Basil long enough, maybe she would finally own up and tell us her real name. I knew I would. “Landon will be here, and Aunt Tillie is right, anyone who tries to come into this inn is going to be in for a rude awakening. Why can’t she just stay here?”

Basil leaned forward, keenly interested as she waited for Chief Terry’s decision.

“Fine,” he said, rubbing the side of his face. “I know when I’m outnumbered.”