Page 36 of Last Witch Attempt
Of course she would mark her time with television episodes. “What was she doing?”
“She didn’t seem to be doing anything. She walked up and down the street, stopped in front of a few of the stores and stared as if she didn’t recognize them, and then she kept going.”
“Did she have Peg with her? What about Crusty?”
“I don’t know who Crusty is. She didn’t have the pig.”
“Crusty is the lone clown doll we let her keep.”
Viola shook her head, then shuddered. “That’s a sick thing. I don’t like to judge—I once sat through an entire porn movie where a guy dressed like an elephant and did really freaky things with his fake trunk—but only a crazy person would hang around a talking clown doll.”
I wasn’t up for judging Viola’s level of crazy against that of Aunt Tillie. “Did you talk to her?”
“No. I called out ‘hello’ but she gave me the finger.”
That sounded about right. Aunt Tillie and Viola hadn’t gotten along in life. Things had only worsened in death. Aunt Tillie shared my gift for being able to see and talk to ghosts, but she wasn’t a necromancer. She could tune out the ghosts if the need arose.
“Keep an eye out for her too,” I said. “She doesn’t know about the arachnids. I don’t want her finding trouble. The FBI is in town.”
“Yeah, you’re married to him.”
“Not that FBI agent. Others. They’re interested in all the paranormal stuff that goes on here.”
Viola pursed her lips. “That’s interesting. Do you think they might want to talk to me? I’m paranormal … and very knowledgeable.”
“You’re … something,” I agreed. “They can’t see you to talk to you. I’m keeping the fact that I can see and talk to you guys under wraps.”
“Oh, smart.” Viola tapped the side of her ghostly head. “If they can’t see me, they won’t believe you and will lock you up. You’re not as dumb as I always assumed.”
I wasn’t certain how to take that, so I just nodded as I got to my feet. “I’ll be at Hypnotic for a bit. Look for me there if you find the arachnids.”
“I’m on it.” Viola went back to staring at the television. “Just as soon as this episode is over.” She threw her hands into the air. “You’re not a catch, you gross beast. The women don’t want you. Get over it.”
I left her to yell at the television and headed out. She would do as I asked. She always did. Now it was time to catch Clove and Thistle up.
I wasn’t looking forward to that. Not even a little bit.
9
NINE
The smart thing to do would’ve been to avoid Mrs. Little. That was my plan. When crossing in front of her store, however, I couldn’t stop from looking inside.
Cora Locke and Madison Wentworth stood at the counter. Mrs. Little appeared to be filling out order sheets—with tourist season coming she would have to stock up. She was laughing at something one of them had said. She seemed happy.
That was a load off. From a distance she looked fine. Still, I wanted to see and hear for myself.
With a lie tucked firmly in my back pocket, I strode through the door as if I didn’t have a care in the world, holding my breath as Mrs. Little glanced up. She didn’t shrink back in fear. She didn’t hide under the counter. She openly glared.
This was also good. She was never happy to see me.
“I don’t want to take up much of your time,” I offered calmly. “Just here to see if you want to run the same ad as last year for the season kickoff.” That’s what was good about owning my own business, one that sold ads to all the other businesses. I did have a legitimate reason for being there.
“Remind me what the ad was,” Mrs. Little said primly.
“It was a half-page ad about the wonder of unicorns.”
She made a face. Her store—the Unicorn Emporium—was all about unicorns. There were unicorn statues as far as the eye could see. Steel, porcelain, plastic, glass, and resin. I found unicorns creepy, but now wasn’t the time to bring that up.
