The Trouble With Witches (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 9) by Amanda M. Lee

Author:Amanda M. Lee [Lee, Amanda M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WinchesterShaw Publications
Published: 2016-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

THISTLE AND I stood in the middle of Chief Terry’s office, making sure to keep Mrs. Little and Aunt Tillie separated as he sat at his desk and glared at us. His gaze seemed directed at me, which was hardly fair because I didn’t cause this ruckus.

“I … .”

“Be quiet, Bay,” Chief Terry admonished. “You’re not part of this.”

His words hurt my feelings. Chief Terry must’ve realized it, because he shot me an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” Chief Terry said. “That was unnecessary and unfair. It’s just … I feel old. I feel like I’m a hundred years old and somehow I’m being punished by angry old women.”

“Who are you calling old?” Aunt Tillie challenged. “I’m in my prime. Heck, I’m middle-aged. You have to be old to be called old.”

Chief Terry furrowed his brow. “You be quiet, too.”

Thistle and I exchanged an amused look as Chief Terry shifted his eyes to Mrs. Little. “Now, let’s talk about your store.” His voice was soft and deadly. “What do you think happened?”

“I think that Tillie … .”

Chief Terry waved his hand to cut off Mrs. Little. “I want to know exactly what happened in the store and we’ll go from there. I want to know what you saw. I made a mistake just now when I asked you what you thought. That’s not what I want to hear. I want to know what you saw.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Mrs. Little said. “I was in the back room going through a new delivery box and I heard glass break. I didn’t understand what was happening because I have that bell over the door and that alerts me if someone enters. The store was empty.”

“I had no idea the gates of Hell had bells,” Aunt Tillie intoned.

Chief Terry ignored her. “Then what happened?”

“I raced out front,” Mrs. Little replied. “I thought maybe a shelf fell, but the window was broken and there was a huge flame. I smelled gasoline … or maybe it was lighter fluid. They both smell the same to me.”

“That sounds like a Molotov cocktail,” Thistle said. “Why would someone firebomb a unicorn store?”

“Why don’t you ask your aunt?” Mrs. Little suggested.

“We’re asking you,” Chief Terry said. “What did you see out the window? Did you look in either direction?”

“I was too frightened,” Mrs. Little answered. “I wanted to put out the fire, but it was too big. I ran out the back door instead, and someone on the street called for help. That’s all I know.”

“Thank you.” Chief Terry rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at his desk. “The state boys are going to run some tests, but I could smell gasoline inside the store. There’s moderate damage, so you need to get your insurance people on the phone.”

“I already called them,” Mrs. Little said. “I’m not an idiot.”

Aunt Tillie opened her mouth to argue the point, but I shook my head to quiet her.

“You can let some of them go,” I whispered.

“Hardly.”

“She’s the one who started the fire,” Mrs.

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