Page 24 of Last Witch Attempt
“Because you would’ve sensed someone following us home last night?”
I wanted to believe that was true. “I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t think it’s a good sign.” I jerked up my chin to find Winchester. He was in the bushes chasing something, probably a rabbit. “Maybe we should keep him on a leash when he’s outside.”
Landon followed my gaze to his dog. He loved the beast beyond measure. “Or maybe we should keep him at the inn, just to be on the safe side.”
“My mom and aunts love him, and they would watch him, but we can’t make him their responsibility.” Even saying it bothered me. “He should definitely stay there for the afternoon. We’ll make our decision about tonight after we’ve had a day to collect information.”
Landon moved to the dog and affixed the leash he’d brought. “Come on, buddy, it’s time for bacon.”
Winchester yipped excitedly. He recognized the word. “You’ll be with your grandma all day. She’ll take care of you.” He looked back at me. There was a question in his eyes, but he didn’t ask.
We were both worried. Something told me things were going to get worse before they got better.
6
SIX
The walk back to the inn wasn’t pleasant. Normally, Landon and I joked, watched Winchester chase rabbits, and prepared ourselves for whatever horror Aunt Tillie was about to unleash. This morning, we studied the tree line carefully.
Nothing stood out. Birds continued to chirp. Rabbits darted onto the path and then took off again. Things seemed perfectly fine.
Yet I knew they weren’t.
We let ourselves in through the back door, walking into the family living quarters. Aunt Tillie was not in her normal spot in front of the television telling the weather forecasters they were wrong and screaming at the newscasters that they wouldn’t know real news if it bit them in the posterior. The couch was empty, and Peg was nowhere in sight.
“It’s mornings like this that fill me with dread,” Landon complained as he unclipped Winchester and allowed the puppy to race to the kitchen.
“Yeah,” I agreed, rolling my neck. “Something is up.”
The sound of raised voices was like the low growl of thunder from an approaching storm as we reached the kitchen door. I exchanged a worried look with Landon and then pushed into the next room.
Mom stood at the kitchen island, wooden spoon in hand, looking as if she was about to fly through the roof.
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” she said to Aunt Tillie, who was glaring from her recliner. “I’m just suggesting that now is not the time to mess with Clove and Sam. They’re working hard on getting the ship ready for the season. They had a few little issues that popped up last minute, and they’re on a deadline.”
“And I told you that I haven’t been messing with them,” Aunt Tillie fired back. “Why would I bother messing with them? They’re boring.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your great-niece,” Mom chastised. She didn’t bother smiling at us when she saw us. “Tell her.”
“Clove isn’t boring,” I replied. “She’s just more boring than the rest of us.”
“See.” Aunt Tillie threw her hands into the air. “That one is the second most boring one in the family and even she recognizes that Clove is boring.”
“Hey!” I was offended. “I am not boring.”
“Name one not boring thing you’ve done this week,” Aunt Tillie challenged.
“I went with you yesterday to fix Mrs. Little’s memory.”
“That was my not-boring thing. You just tagged along.”
“I…” Try as I might, no matter how hard I searched my memory, only mundane things popped to the forefront. “Tell her I’m not boring,” I ordered Landon.
“I don’t want to get involved in this argument.” Landon edged closer to Mom. “I prefer when we have the boring weeksbecause the not-boring weeks give me ulcers.” He reached for a slice of bacon from the platter but was forced to snatch back his hand when Mom slapped him with a wooden spoon. “That was a mean thing to do to your favorite son-in-law,” he complained.
“Is it even a contest when you’re the only one?” Mom challenged.
“This is a cold, cold house.” Landon looked morose enough that Mom handed him a slice of bacon. She stared me down when I glared at her. “It’s your fault for marrying a glutton.”
