A Solstice Celebration by Amanda M. Lee

Author:Amanda M. Lee
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: WinchesterShaw Publications
Published: 2016-04-05T04:00:00+00:00

SEVEN

“What do you mean the box isn’t in the closet?” I asked, my heart rolling. “I put it there yesterday.”

“It’s not there,” Thistle said, shrugging. “There’s only one linen closet, and the spot on the floor is empty. There aren’t any other boxes in there.”

“I just … .” I broke off, pursing my lips. “Aunt Tillie. She had to take it. The girls were drunk yesterday, so it couldn’t have been them. That leaves only Aunt Tillie.”

“She’s our only option,” Twila agreed. “Where would she take it?”

“More importantly, why does she want it?” I corrected. “It has to be in the house somewhere. My guess is she has it in the basement. That’s the only place she would dare keep it in case it rains or something. The elements could ruin that stuff.”

“What should we do?” Twila asked, rubbing her thumb over her bottom lip. I could practically smell the smoke from the gears grinding in her head. What? That’s not mean. I love my sister. It will take forever if I let her figure this out, though.

“Okay, new plan,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Bay, you go to the clearing and talk to Constance. Find her body if you can, but don’t look at it. It’s important.”

Bay nodded.

“Twila, you’re taking over shopping duties,” I said. “It was a nice thought, but I need Clove and Thistle to do something else. That means you’re the only one who can do the shopping.”

“What are you going to do?” Twila challenged.

“I’m going to supervise,” I answered. “I am the boss, after all.”

I caught the amused glances passing among the girls. I would deal with them later.

“What are you going to have Clove and Thistle do?” Twila asked, biding for time. No one wanted to do the shopping. It was a massive list. That’s why we’d been putting it off.

“I’m going to have them search the basement for the box,” I answered, not missing a beat.

Thistle and Clove gaped in horror at the suggestion.

“Are you crazy?” Thistle exploded. “That old lady will kill us if she catches us going through her stuff.”

“Like horror movie kill,” Clove interjected. “She’ll rip our jaws off and leave us in the median of the road like in that movie with the serial killer who drove the big truck.”

“You’re never allowed to watch television with Thistle again,” I snapped. “Aunt Tillie won’t kill you. She’s cantankerous and mean sometimes, but she won’t kill you.”

“That’s true,” Twila said sagely. “She’s far more likely to curse you again. She won’t kill you, though. If she killed you, she wouldn’t be able to torture you. She gets bored easily.”

“I don’t want to be cursed again,” Thistle huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t like it.”

“No one does.”

“I kind of liked it,” Clove said. “I still want those shoes.”

She was my daughter and I adored her. I still wanted to smack her sometimes. Thankfully, child abuse is frowned upon in civilized circles. I don’t want to draw attention to myself.

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