Witching You Were Here (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Book 3) by Amanda M. Lee

Author:Amanda M. Lee [Lee, Amanda M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WinchesterShaw Publications
Published: 2013-11-17T23:00:00+00:00

CHIEF Terry didn’t look surprised to see Landon and me together. In fact, he seemed more irritated than anything else.

“What’s up?”

“Your Aunt Marnie says that Clove needs rehab.”

Great. “She called you and told you that?”

“She called to tell me that it was Polish night out at the inn if I wanted to come to dinner. You know how I love Polish sausage.”

“That’s what she said,” I replied without realizing what I was saying. It was an ongoing dirty joke with Thistle, Clove, and I -- and it just slipped out.

“What?” Chief Terry looked confused, while Landon was shaking with silent laughter.

“Nothing,” I waved off his question. There really was no explanation that didn’t make me look like a teenage girl.

“So, do you think Clove needs rehab?” Chief Terry asked me pointedly.

“I think we had too many chocolate martinis last night and that our moms are a bunch of alarmists,” I replied. I didn’t add that I thought it was beyond hypocritical that these same women were known to imbibe whole bottles of wine and dance under the full moon whenever the whim hit.

“That’s possible,” Chief Terry conceded. “They all have weird freak-out moments.”

“It works out well for you,” I said. “When they freak out, they cook.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain about that,” Chief Terry agreed.

“So, what’s going on with the Hobbes?” Landon asked wearily.

Chief Terry shifted his full attention to Landon for the first time. “Isn’t that what you were wearing yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t you go home last night?” Chief Terry looked like he was growing in his chair. It was like he was the Hulk or something.

“I had too many chocolate martinis, too,” Landon replied.

“So you stayed the night at the inn?” Chief Terry asked hopefully.

“No, I spent the night at the guesthouse.” Landon seemed to be enjoying himself.

“You know I think of those girls as my daughters, right?” Chief Terry said brusquely.

“I figured,” Landon replied.

“That means I still picture them in their Girl Scout uniforms selling cookies.”

“That sounds hot,” Landon said, sliding a sly smile in my direction. “Do you still have the uniform?”

Chief Terry cleared his throat angrily. “Don’t do that!”

“She’s an adult,” Landon protested.

“I don’t care,” Chief Terry said. “If I even think you’re doing anything untoward … .”

“Untoward?”

“You know what I mean.”

“So what have you learned about the case,” I interjected earnestly. I desperately wanted a shift in the topic of conversation.

Chief Terry shot one more warning look in Landon’s direction and then turned back to me. “Not a lot.”

“Anything?” I asked hopefully.

“We know that someone used a credit card in Lillian Hobbes’ name in Traverse City four days ago,” Chief Terry started.

“Someone? You don’t think it was her?”

“We’re not sure,” Chief Terry said. “It was used at a restaurant at one of those waterfront restaurants on the bay.”

“So no cameras?”

“No cameras,” Chief Terry confirmed. “We’re having some agents pick up the slip to see if the signature matches one from Lillian Hobbes that they have on file in Canada.”

“How long will that take?”

“I have no idea,” Chief Terry said wearily.

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