10. Ten
TEN
I knew how to get a weekly edition of The Whistler out, to the point my mind could wander and I could still get everything done.
I made sure to send Mrs. Little a copy of the previous ad and then, when my stomach started growling and I was running out of work, I got a message from Landon.
He wanted me to meet him at the diner for lunch.
Perfect. I was ready to take the investigation to the next level.
Landon and Chief Terry were at our usual table. Unfortunately, Steve and Spencer were with them.
Landon looked up and smiled. He saw the happiness blast through me, then the annoyance take over. By the time I sat in the open chair next to him I had managed to hide my disappointment.
“Hey.” I didn’t kiss him. This lunch was more official. “How are you?” I smiled at everybody in turn, then grabbed a menu. I didn’t need to look at it—I’d been eating here since I was a child—but I needed something to do with my hands.
“How are things with you?” Landon asked, his hand moving to my back. “Have you been out in the woods?”
I didn’t appreciate the question. “I was at the office. This week’s edition is basically done as soon as three people okay their ads.”
Landon was taken aback. “I didn’t realize you were actually going to work.”
“I figured it was better to get it done now than wait and have to try to clear everything once we have information to work with.”
He eyed me for several seconds. “I really did think you were going to take off into the woods with Aunt Tillie or something.”
“I haven’t seen Aunt Tillie since breakfast.” The words were barely out of my mouth when a buzzing outside the diner drew my attention to the huge wall of windows.
Aunt Tillie buzzed past the window in a dark purple cape and a camouflage combat helmet on her four-wheeler. “Huh.”
“Dammit,” Chief Terry complained. “I told her that thing is not allowed downtown.”
Steve’s attention was drawn out the window, his forehead a mass of wrinkles. “Was that your aunt?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “If I don’t claim her does that mean I don’t have to deal with her?”
Steve smirked. “I like the helmet.”
“I like the cape,” Spencer said. “It takes guts for someone to drive down the sidewalk on a four-wheeler while wearing a cape.”
“She’s not brave,” I replied. “She’s sending a message.”
Steve’s face was blank. “What message?”
“That she’s not sorry for terrorizing Clove and she’s going to do what she wants.” I leaned back in my chair. “She’s going to be an absolute menace going forward.”
“How bad can she be?” Steve argued. “She’s an old lady.”
“Shh!” Chief Terry looked around, terrified.
“Don’t ever say that to her face if you don’t want to smell like rancid pickles for a week,” Landon supplied. “Or rotten sushi.”
Steve’s eyes went wide. “I don’t follow.”
“Listen, all those stories you’ve heard about Aunt Tillie?
They’re basically true.” Landon looked pained as he laid it out for his boss.
“Like, the story where she climbed the ladder into that big silo on the highway and called a bunch of birds to send after the kids vandalizing the fields? She did that.”
“And in leggings with fire-breathing dragons strategically placed over the crotch, no less,” Chief Terry said dully.
“She was supposed to throw those leggings away,” I countered. “She was wearing those that day?”
“I’m not playing that game.” Chief Terry shook his head. “If your mother wants to police what Tillie wears, that’s on her. I’ve told her that. Now I’m telling you.”
Rather than acquiesce to his demands, I snorted. “There’s no way you told my mother that. You would be the one wearing the leggings if you had.”
“I basically said that to her,” he corrected.
I rolled my eyes until they landed on Steve. “Do you want the hard truth? Aunt Tillie is crazy. She’s not crazy like you imagine, she’s crazy like a fox. She’s out there … but she’s smart. Actually, smart isn’t the right word.” I shook my head. “She’s diabolical.”
“You make her sound like the Devil,” Steve replied.
“Oh, no, the devil is afraid of her. In fact…” Aunt Tillie appeared again. This time she was coming from the opposite direction. She was on her scooter, wearing a black helmet and a red cape, and she looked to be screaming something as she passed, her gaze pointed toward Hypnotic.
“Huh,” was all I could manage a second time.
“Was that the four-wheeler?” Chief Terry demanded.
“The scooter,” Landon replied.
“She has a scooter too?” Spencer grinned. “Wait, I think I knew that. I’ve heard stories about the scooter. Does she play music—the theme song from The Greatest American Hero— as she terrorizes the town?”
“The music is dependent on her mood,” Landon replied. “Sometimes she plays The Greatest American Hero . Sometimes she plays rap. She loves Eminem. When Kevin Costner’s character died on Yellowstone , she played Taps .”
I nodded. “She rarely plays recent music. If you asked her who Chappell Roan is, she would have no idea. She used to like Taylor Swift but declared her most recent album too melancholy. She thinks Katy Perry is crap.”
“She likes Lady Gaga,” Landon noted.
“She does,” I agreed. “Eighties music is her jam. You know things are really going to get bad when she plays that Kenny Loggins song from Top Gun .”
“ Danger Zone,” Landon volunteered.
I bobbed my head. “That’s the one.”
“And this is what she does all day?” Steve asked. “She just rides back and forth downtown playing music?”
“She gets bored with that in an hour or so,” I replied. “A lot of the time she spends her afternoons plotting against Mrs. Little. Around her naps.”
“There are stories,” Spencer said, leaning forward. He looked as if he was about to impart a great secret. “There are stories about the unicorns in the store farting.”
I didn’t respond.
“Some of the stories say they fart glitter,” he said. “They sing sometimes, too.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say,” I hedged.
“Is that true?”
I looked to Landon for help.
“Guys, most of the stories are true,” Landon replied after several seconds of contemplation. “Aunt Tillie likes to mess with Mrs. Little. The unicorns fart. One time they ate Cheetos and all the fart dust was orange. That was not the best smell.”
“A lot of her torture comes in the form of scents,” Chief Terry explained. “When she’s angry with you, she messes with the way you smell.”
“Give me an example,” Steve ordered.
Chief Terry took a deep breath. “For instance, once when she was angry with Bay, Clove, and Thistle, she made them all smell like bacon for days.”
“Once?” I challenged. “She’s done that multiple times.”
“That was the happiest day of my life,” Landon said.
I glared at him. “Even happier than our wedding?”
“You smelled like bacon at our wedding. She gave it to me as a gift.”
I’d forgotten that. Thankfully, because it was our wedding, only Landon could smell me that day.
“The bacon thing has turned into a running gag because whenever Aunt Tillie is mad at me, Landon begs for the bacon curse,” I explained to Steve.
“He thinks it’s great even though I attract every handsy man in town when Aunt Tillie casts the spell. ”
“That part isn’t great,” Landon mumbled. “Let’s not take a trip to crazy town. I just like the smell.” He took on a far-off expression. “It’s orgasmic really.”
My cheeks turned pink as Steve and Spencer gave me twin appraising looks. Chief Terry slapped his hand over his forehead. Landon appeared lost in his own little world. He didn’t care what he’d said in front of his boss.
The buzz of the four-wheeler returned. This time Aunt Tillie was coming from the east side of town, and she was back in the purple cloak and camouflage helmet.
“Is she doing costume changes?” Susan Helms asked as she appeared at the edge of the table, order pad in hand.
“It certainly seems so,” Steve said. “Is she gearing up for something good?” He was excited at the prospect.
“If you think this is going to end well, then you haven’t been listening to the stories,” I replied as I got to my feet and moved to the window.
I had to press myself against it, a silent apology for whoever was going to have to clean the windows later going through me, but I didn’t see Aunt Tillie.
I waited for a full two minutes before returning to the table.
“You’re all I have left, Bay,” Susan said. “Do you know what you want?”
“Give me a grilled cheese and chili, please.”
Susan winked. “You got it. Iced tea to drink?”
“That will be fine.” My head felt heavy as I sat. “What is she doing?” I asked nobody in particular.
“Perhaps it’s Millie,” Steve said with a laugh. “I’ve still yet to figure out how she pulled that one off.”
“We should form a club.” I went back to staring at the window. “I have questions about a lot of things.”
“Like the autopsies?” Steve turned to business, the intrigue regarding Aunt Tillie’s costume changes going out the window. “I’m sure you want that information.”
I had to force my attention back to him. “Of course I do. I’m sorry.” I felt like a moron. “Aunt Tillie does stuff like this all the time. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s fine.” Steve’s smile was warm. “If I had a great-aunt, I would watch her all the time too. Older people can fall prey to predators far too often.”
“Yes, that’s what I worry about with Aunt Tillie,” I drawled.
Landon squeezed my knee under the table. I had to swallow a giggle when he shot me a quick, mischievous smile.
Steve was focused on his phone, where he had his notes app open. “The medical examiner really couldn’t tell which died first,” he started.
“Which means they all died within minutes of each other,” I said before I realized I was going to speak at all.
Steve’s eyebrows hopped. “You know police procedure well.” His gaze flitted to Landon.
“Don’t look at me.” Landon shook his head. “I would like to take credit for what a little genius she is, but she was that way before I came along.”
“You have to remember that Bay was a reporter in the Detroit area for years before she moved back home,” Chief Terry volunteered. “She knows a lot about criminal forensics.” He beamed with pride.
“Of course.” Steve went back to looking at his phone. “They were asphyxiated. There were bruises around their throats, suggesting it was done manually.”
“How does that work?” I asked. “Did two of them stand there and watch the other get choked to death? Were they strung up in the trees first?”
“The medical examiner believes they were put in the trees after they were dead. He said it likely took a few minutes for each of them to die.”
I slid my eyes to Landon. “What about toxicology results? Were they poisoned beforehand?”
“Nothing stands out in their bloodwork,” Landon replied. “Obviously, full toxicology reports take weeks.”
“We don’t have weeks.”
“Even if we manage to put a rush on them, we’re still looking at four weeks instead of eight.”
“How long were they out there before we found them?”
“Best guess is thirty minutes before you stumbled upon them,” Steve replied. He watched me closely for my reaction.
“They happened to drive past that spot after we went to Mrs. Little’s house and were immediately lured into the woods?
” That was a tight window. “What would that look like?” I addressed the question to Landon.
Protocol might’ve dictated that I focus my energy on Steve, but I was used to working these things out with Chief Terry and Landon, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
“I think you’re the one who will have an easier time figuring that out,” Landon replied.
I frowned and pictured the scene we drove up on. “Someone had to be in the road, but it wasn’t the arachnids.”
“How can you be certain of that?” Steve asked.
“Would you stop in the middle of a dirt road as darkness was coming on if you saw giant spider people standing in front of you?”
“No,” he said on a dry laugh. “I would drive around them.”
“I would run them over,” Spencer supplied. “Bay is right, whatever got them out of the vehicle didn’t look like a giant spider.”
“What if the individual had a gun?” Steve asked.
“Paranormals rarely carry guns. Even if this individual had a gun, wouldn’t you still take a chance and try to drive over them given the surroundings?”
“I would,” Steve confirmed.
“So whatever was out there looked human,” I continued. “It could’ve been someone faking an injury or pretending to be lost.”
“That suggests a woman,” Spencer said. “I would probably stop for a man too, but I would definitely stop for a woman.”
I rubbed my cheek, managing a smile for Susan when she returned with my iced tea. “Maybe it was a child,” I offered after I took a sip. “No one would drive past and leave a child.”
“How would a child get out in the middle of nowhere?” Steve challenged.
I sent him a rueful look. He really was out of his element. He was trying—really hard—but he still wasn’t getting it. “Many magical beings can change their appearance.”
“Like the changeling,” Spencer said.
I nodded. “Yes, but that was even more in depth than other magical beings might be able to pull off. I can change how I look to you. I don’t actually change what I look like, I just make you see what I want you to see.”
Steve was excited. “Do that.”
I glanced around the busy diner. “Um…”
“She’s not a performing monkey,” Landon chided his boss. “If you want a demonstration—and Bay wants to give it to you—we might be able to manage something back at the inn.”
“Right.” Steve had the grace to be abashed. “Sorry. I just got excited there for a moment.”
“It’s fine,” I lied. Embarrassing him wasn’t going to make things better. “Suffice it to say that a grown paranormal could make itself look like a child. Not all, but a lot of them.”
“Okay, so the creature lures them out of the vehicle,” Steve prodded. “Then what?”
“Then the arachnids rush in,” I replied. “They poison the men—they have that ability—and carry them into the woods.”
“Do they kill them or does the leader?” Landon asked.
“It has to be the leader. He or she does what they set out to do, draws the runes on the trees as part of a ritual, then has the arachnids put them in the trees.”
“Why?” Landon pressed. “Was it a message to you?”
“Me specifically?”
“Or potential enemies in general.”
I considered it, then lifted my shoulders. “That’s the part we still have to figure out. We keep digging. That’s the only option we have.”
A buzzing drew my attention to the window again. Aunt Tillie was back, this time on her scooter and in the red cape. She lifted her finger and flipped off the restaurant as she buzzed by.
“What the hell is she doing?” Landon demanded.
“I have no idea.”