Witchdependence Day: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Shorts Book 8) (7 page)

“This isn’t a courtroom,” Landon said, circling the pedestal. He frowned when he got to the far side, which happened to be by the far flap, and hunkered down for a closer look. “Well, crap.”

“What is it?” I asked, walking to him. “What do you see?”

Landon refrained from touching the pedestal and merely pointed. “What does that look like to you?”

I followed his finger and frowned when I saw the red smudge against the white paint. “I … um … .” There was no way that could be what it looked like.

“It’s blood,” Bay said, her eyes widening.

“Just like I found in the loft,” Landon said. “I told you something terrible was going to happen. I was right!”

“Yes. We’re about to be inundated by pie thieves,” Thistle deadpanned. “Everyone run for your lives.”

“It’s the creeper,” Aunt Tillie said sagely. “He’s more fiendish than we initially envisioned.”

“Who is the creeper?” Winnie asked, frustrated. “Where is my pie? Can someone bring me my pie? I’m lost without my pie.”

Thistle opened her mouth to respond but I slapped my hand over her mouth. She would only make things worse. “You can let some of them go.”

“
I
can’t believe
someone stole Winnie’s pie.” Clove, snuggled in Sam’s lap as we congregated around the bonfire outside the stable later that night, was dumbfounded. “Who steals a pie?”

“Someone with excellent taste,” Landon said. “I had to eat cake. It wasn’t the same.”

“Something tells me you’ll live,” Bay said, laughing as Landon tickled her ribs.

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Landon muttered, although he didn’t look particularly perturbed. He expected something bad to happen – and it did – but in the grand scheme of things, a pie thief wasn’t going to cause him to lose sleep. “Do you think your mother is still pouting?”

“Oh, Mom will never going to let this go,” Bay said. “She tried to call a mistrial on the pie contest, but Marnie won anyway. I think Marnie should probably sleep with one eye open.”

“And her bedroom door locked,” Clove added. “Winnie was spitting mad at dinner.”

“Yes, I noticed,” Landon said. “The hamburgers tasted funny.”

“That’s because they pour their emotions into their cooking,” Clove supplied. “They’re kitchen witches. It’s what they do.”

“And what about you three?” I asked. “What do you pour your emotions into?”

Clove shrugged. “I think I probably do that with gardening.”

“Which is why the flowers she planted three months ago look as if they’ve been growing for years,” Sam said. “They’re really beautiful … like Clove.”

It was relatively dark around the bonfire ring, but Clove’s blush was obvious.

I shifted my eyes to Thistle. “What about you? You pour everything into your art. That’s why you’re always keen to decorate, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Thistle said. “We’re not exactly accomplished kitchen witches. We find our inspiration in other places.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Landon said. “Bay burned toast the other day. I think that’s an accomplishment.”

Bay scowled. “You’re on my list.”

“I’m happy to be on your list,” Landon said, wrinkling his nose as he kissed her cheek.

“If Clove pours her heart into gardening and Thistle pours hers into art, what does Bay pour her heart into?” I asked, lightly rubbing Thistle’s back as she reclined against me.

“Trouble,” Landon answered, not missing a beat.

Bay slapped his knee. “That’s not true,” she protested. “I don’t go looking for trouble.”

“Yes, it’s merely drawn to you,” Landon said. “It’s like you’re the refrigerator and trouble is those magnets representing the cities you visit on vacations.”

“Are you saying I have hips like a refrigerator?”

Landon realized his mistake too late to take it back. “I’m saying I love you more than anything and absolutely adore your hips.”

I chuckled. I couldn’t help myself. “Nice save.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo,” Landon teased, although he turned serious after a moment. “You pour your heart into helping people, sweetie. It’s a nice gift. Personally, I wish you weren’t so giving, but I also realize that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“Oh, he’s so sweet,” Clove cooed, pressing her hand to the spot above her heart.

“Yes, just like drinking a bottle of corn syrup,” Thistle said, rolling her eyes. “Both make me want to puke.”

“Leave them alone,” I chastised, poking her ribs. “Everyone is having a good time. Why do you have to ruin it?”

“Because that’s what’s truly in her heart,” Clove replied. “She shares a heart with Aunt Tillie.”

“You take that back,” Thistle hissed. “I’m nothing like that woman. Marcus, tell her I’m nothing like Aunt Tillie.”

Now I was the one caught. “I think you have many wonderful qualities,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “One of them is a tendency to dig your heels in, which shows you’re determined. The other is your delight in irritating your family, which makes you very entertaining and a true slave to your muse.”

“Wow,” Landon intoned, making a hilarious face. “That was a masterful turn of a phrase. I am impressed.”

“Me, too,” Sam said.

“Yes, this isn’t my first rodeo,” I said, sputtering as Thistle elbowed me in the stomach and scorched me with a murderous look. “That was a compliment, Thistle.”

“You’re on my list,” Thistle warned, although she settled her head against my chest and focused on the fire. “What do you guys think is really going on around here? Between the blood in the loft, the attempts to get into Aunt Tillie’s field and Winnie’s stolen pie, something weird is happening.”

“We don’t know that everything is related, though,” Bay cautioned. “They could be three separate instances. People are always trying to find Aunt Tillie’s pot field, and a holiday weekend when everyone is looking to party would make the field doubly tempting.”

“That’s true,” Landon said, brushing Bay’s hair from her face. “I think whoever was in Marcus’ loft is the same person who stole the pie, though.”

“Because of the blood?” I asked.

Landon nodded. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence.”

“You don’t know that the blood in the loft was human, though,” Bay pointed out. “As far as we know, an animal died up there and got dragged off by a bigger predator. It could’ve been a smaller bird or even a cat or something killed by an owl.”

Landon opened his mouth, and for a moment I thought he was going to call her on her assumption. He changed his mind mid-course, though. “You’re right,” he said finally. “We don’t know anything yet. I’m still waiting for confirmation from the lab. So far we have a stolen pie.”

“Yes, and great memories,” Thistle enthused. “I will never forget Winnie screaming ‘Someone put their grubby hands on my pie!’ I almost died.”

“That’s because you have a demented mind,” I said, although I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “I liked when she realized why we kept snickering and threatened to unleash unholy hell on us if we didn’t find her pie.”

“Then we just laughed harder,” Landon said. “I’m not going to get bacon all weekend. I know it.”

We lapsed into amiable silence for a few minutes. I wasn’t surprised when Clove was the first to break it. “What are your plans for the stable expansion?”

“I’m going to double its size out the back,” I replied. “We’re going to keep more than horses in there. I also want a dedicated storage area so the other barn will be completely open for home renovations. Thistle wants to add display windows on the front so we can draw people in with haunted scenes in the front area by the door.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Bay said. “People will love that. How are you going to do it?”

Despite their argumentative ways, Thistle, Bay and Clove loved each other beyond reason. Even though they were mid-fight about the spare room in the guesthouse, Bay enjoyed bolstering Thistle’s creative endeavors.

“Well, Marcus has a bunch of vintage riding gear in the loft,” Thistle said, leaning forward. “I figure I can paint different backdrops on two big canvases, put them on either side of the main door, and then use wire to make it look as if the outfits are being held up by ghosts.”

“Ooh, that sounds neat,” Clove said, getting in on the action. “We’re going to be ordering some lighting stuff for the ship when we get it. You should get in on the order because we’ll save if we do it in bulk. You can get some of those eerie lights.”

“That would be cool,” Thistle said, taking me by surprise when she hopped off my lap. “Come look inside. I want to show you a couple of others idea I’ve been toying with.”

“I thought you were going to enjoy the fire with me,” I complained.

“We’ll be back,” Thistle said, making a face. “I want to show them my ideas.”

“Let them go,” Landon said. “Don’t get in the way of women and decorating. It never ends well.”

I considered offering s’mores to keep them close – for some reason the idea of letting them wander around the stable alone didn’t sit well with me – but I had a feeling Landon wanted to talk away from their prying ears.

“Be careful,” I said. “Don’t separate.”

“Yes, we don’t want anyone to steal our pie,” Thistle teased.

I fought the urge to laugh but joined in with Landon and Sam when they began chuckling. She knew her target audience.

Bay and Clove happily fell into step with Thistle, decorating plans spilling out of my tiny witch as she practically hopped toward the building. I waited until they disappeared from view before turning to Landon. “What’s up?”

He balked. “What makes you think something is up?”

“Because you looked as if you were going to argue with Bay when she declared that an animal probably died in the loft, and then you purposely wanted them out of earshot so we could talk,” I replied. “I’m not an idiot.”

“No,” Landon agreed, ruefully rubbing the back of his neck. “I forget how observant you are sometimes. You could be an investigator.”

“I like horses better than criminals.”

“Hey, I noticed you were acting weird, too,” Sam interjected.

“You’re brilliant, too, Sam,” Landon said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the women were still happy with their decorating talk before continuing. “I lied when I said I hadn’t heard from the lab. I got results back on the blood from the loft. It’s human.”

I stilled, legitimately surprised. “How can you be sure?”

“The lab ran it,” Landon answered. “They know what they’re doing. I didn’t ask for extensive tests because I wasn’t sure what I was dealing with. I didn’t want to seem like an alarmist, so I passed it off as due diligence.”

That was probably smart. “Did they give you any other information?”

“They did,” Landon said. “That’s why I didn’t want to mention it in front of the girls.”

My interest was piqued. “And?”

“It belongs to a male,” Landon said. “I have no idea of age or anything, but this individual is in serious trouble.”

“For stealing a pie?” Sam didn’t look convinced. “I admit it was wrong to steal Winnie’s pie, but come on.”

“Not that,” Landon said, his irritation bubbling up. “I think whoever is behind this has a serious wound. That explains leaving a trail of blood. I have no idea how they got it or how serious it is. Until we find who it is, we’re in the dark there.

“What I do know is that this man has a blood infection,” he continued. “This wound is literally making him sick and putting his life in jeopardy.”

“How does a blood infection work?” I asked.

“It depends on the infection,” Sam answered, taking me by surprise with his fortitude. “It’s probably sepsis. He could’ve been injured, maybe he ran into a something or even stubbed his toe. The bacterial infection can grow out of seemingly small injuries.

“If left untreated he could have organ failure or it could even travel to his bones, depending on the wound,” he continued. “He’s probably very sick.”

Landon’s mouth dropped open. “How do you know that?”

“Clove makes me watch
Grey’s Anatomy
reruns on Lifetime,” Sam admitted, not ashamed in the least. “I like it because a lot of the women are hot.”

“Well, that makes it perfectly okay,” Landon said, turning his thoughtful eyes to me. “Have you seen anyone limping … or holding their side … or hanging around the stable when they shouldn’t be?”

I shook my head. “I would’ve noticed that,” I said. “I keep a relatively good eye out because I’m afraid someone might steal an animal. It always seems like a good idea to go horseback riding when you’re young and drunk. I don’t want to risk the animals being injured because some idiot decided to take them for a joyride.”

“Your teenage experience and my teenage experience were vastly different,” Landon said. “It always seemed like a good idea to steal a four-wheeler when we were teenagers.”

“Horses are better.”

“Whatever,” Landon said, checking over his shoulder again to make sure the girls weren’t returning. “I didn’t say anything in front of them because I don’t want to ruin their weekend. Odds are someone is very sick and might not even realize it.”

“You don’t want them to be afraid,” I surmised. That was the last thing I wanted, too. I also didn’t want them caught off guard. “I understand why you’re keeping this to yourself, but wouldn’t they be better off knowing what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Landon said. “Bay is so happy and she’s been having a great time at the festival. She thought the pie theft was funny. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“I don’t want to ruin it either,” I said. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to Thistle because we didn’t tell them, though.”

“I’m with Marcus on this,” Sam offered. “Sepsis can play tricks on the mind due to fever and other factors. If this man is suffering from it, he may be extremely delusional. He could accidentally hurt one of them without meaning to do it.”

Landon held up his hands, resigned. “Okay. We’ll tell them. I don’t want them getting worked up, though.”

“No, you don’t want them getting it in their heads to find whoever this individual is and take off on their own to do it,” I corrected. “There’s no shame in wanting to protect them.”

“There is if you hear them tell it,” Landon grumbled. “I … .”

Whatever he was about to say died on his lips as a bone-chilling scream filled the night air. I exchanged a look with Landon, surprised. “What was that?”

“Clove!” Sam jumped to his feet and raced toward the stable.

Landon and I followed, my heart pounding as I fought to keep up.

“Clove?”

No one immediately answered, and my mind drifted to my panic the night before when I thought Thistle went missing in the middle of the storm. An unfortunate suspicion crossed my mind.

“Thistle, if this is a joke because of what happened last night … .”

“Landon, we’re over here.” Bay’s words cut me off, and I could tell by the tone of her voice she was serious.

We hurried to the far corner of the stable, pulling up short when we saw Bay and Thistle holding pitchforks and pointing them toward the office.

“What’s going on?” Landon asked, hurrying toward Bay as I moved behind Thistle. Clove was unarmed, and she threw her arms around Sam’s neck when he approached.

“There’s someone in here,” Thistle said, pointing toward the office. “He ran in there.”