Wicked Brew (3 page)

“Good,” Aunt Tillie said. She turned to Basil. “Are you ready for cake?”

“You haven’t eaten your dinner yet,” Winnie protested. “Cake is for dessert. Don’t teach her bad habits.”

Basil’s face fell.

“Oh, fine,” Winnie said. “I can’t say no to that face. Who else wants cake?”

“I’m going to really like having you around,” Aunt Tillie said. “We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

That was … terrifying.

I stumbled into the dining room the next morning, grumpy. Since Basil had fought me returning to the guesthouse to sleep, I’d reluctantly taken a room upstairs – and shared a bed with a child that didn’t stop tossing and turning the entire night. I’d finally passed out around four, and when I woke up, Basil was gone.

Bay and Landon were sitting at the table when I entered.

“You look awesome,” Bay said.

I looked them up and down. They appeared well rested. Bay’s skin was glowing, and Landon’s smile was lazy and relaxed. It bugged me. “Why are you two so happy? I’m guessing you had the guesthouse to yourself all night.”

“Clove spent the night out at the Dandridge,” Bay said. “It was like a mini vacation.”

Winnie appeared from the kitchen with two plates in her hand. She slid them in front of Bay and Landon. For some reason, knowing they’d slept well really irritated me. “And what did you two do on your vacation?” I asked. I knew exactly what they’d done. I also knew Bay would die of embarrassment if her mother asked any pointed questions.

“What vacation?” Winnie asked. “Your mom is bringing you out some eggs and pancakes in a second, Thistle.”

“Thistle is just being grumpy,” Bay said, focusing on her plate.

“I wonder why?” I said, my morning snark hitting high gear. “I had to share a bed with a kid who kicked me so many times my shins are going to be one big bruise. You two spent the night fornicating like teenagers.”

Winnie pursed her lips. “What did you just say?”

“They were on vacation,” I replied. “That’s what you do on vacation.”

Bay’s cheeks were flushed, but Landon didn’t appear to be bothered in the least.

“Do you think that’s funny?” Winnie asked.

“I don’t,” I said. “I’m appalled at the lack of morality that occurred under my roof last night. Appalled, I tell you.”

Landon smirked. “The only thing you’re upset about is that you had to spend the night away from Marcus so you couldn’t do the same thing.”

Winnie smacked the back of Landon’s head. “That’s enough of that, young man.”

Landon rubbed the back of his head. “What did I do?”

“I think she’s sitting next to you,” I said.

“I’m going to put you on my list with Aunt Tillie,” Landon warned.

“Go ahead. I’m more afraid of her list than yours.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Landon said, glancing at Bay. “You’re scared to be on my list, aren’t you?”

Bay shook her head. “You’re a big marshmallow,” she said. “Aunt Tillie is the devil.”

Landon sighed. “Marshmallow?”

“I happen to love marshmallows,” Bay said.

Landon rolled his eyes. “Speaking of Aunt Tillie, where is she?”

That was a pretty good question.

“I think she took Basil out to see the greenhouse,” Winnie said. “She’s taken a shine to her, and Basil seems to like her right back.”

“Well, at least we know she’s safe with Aunt Tillie,” I said. “I keep hoping that, as long as we call her Basil, she’ll find the courage to start talking and tell us what her real name is.”

“That would be helpful,” Landon agreed, snagging a slice of bacon from Bay’s plate. “Right now, we just have to wait for her to trust us. She’s not ready to tell us what happened. When she is, we’ll be here to listen. If we’re lucky, her fingerprints will hit.”

“What if they don’t?” I asked.

“Then we’ll have to try and get Basil to talk,” Landon said. “Why did Aunt Tillie pick that name, by the way?”

“To bug me,” I grumbled.

Landon waited.

“I just found out yesterday that I was apparently supposed to be named Basil,” I explained. “I’m deeply traumatized by the whole thing.”

Landon snorted. “Is Basil somehow worse than Thistle as a name?”

“They both suck,” I said. “Basil is worse.”

Landon looked to Bay for confirmation.

“Basil is awful,” she said. “Thistle always wished they would have named her Sage.”

“That’s a cool name,” I said.

“Thistle fits your personality better,” Landon said, finishing off his breakfast and getting to his feet. “I think we should find Aunt Tillie and Basil. I’m not crazy about them running wild all over the property.”

“Aunt Tillie would never hurt Basil,” I said. “She likes her.”

“Thistle is right,” Bay said. “Aunt Tillie was the first one to go to her. Thistle and I kind of froze in place. It was pretty impressive. She can move when she wants to.”

“I’m not worried about Aunt Tillie hurting her,” Landon said. “I’m worried about Aunt Tillie taking her to the pot field.”

Uh-oh. I hadn’t even thought of that. I got to my feet. “Yeah, let’s find them.”

“OKAY,
here’s what I want you to do,” Aunt Tillie said. “When you see a car, I want you to smile really wide, and then dance with this in your hand.”

Basil’s green eyes were saucers as she took the wine bottle from Aunt Tillie.

“Twirl around a lot,” Aunt Tillie said. “People can’t say no to a cute little girl. That’s why I always used Bay and Clove to sell stuff when they were little.”

“Hey, what about me?”

Aunt Tillie turned swiftly, fixing me with a hard look. We’d surprised her. She hadn’t heard us approaching. She was slipping. “You weren’t a cute child.”

I scowled. “I was a very cute child.”

“You looked like you were hit with the ugly stick a few too many times,” Aunt Tillie said. “You made up for it with a snarky personality. Don’t worry. You outgrew it.”

Landon snatched the bottle of wine from Basil’s hand, causing her to shrink away from him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I … .”

“Oh, good job, agent,” Aunt Tillie said. “You’ve terrified an already traumatized child. Way to protect and serve.”

“That’s cops,” Landon growled.

“Well, you’re not much of a cop,” Aunt Tillie said, focusing on the road. “Oh, here comes someone.” She handed Basil another bottle and pushed her forward. “Dance.”

Basil glanced between Aunt Tillie and Landon, worried.

“Go ahead,” I said. “What? It’s not like anyone is going to stop.”

Basil danced a small jig at the edge of the road. She had an odd rhythm, but it was interesting to watch. To my surprise, the truck stopped. The passenger, a woman I recognized as a teacher from the elementary school, handed Basil a twenty and then grabbed the wine before her husband continued driving down the road. My mouth dropped open in surprise. “What the … ?”

Basil handed the money to Aunt Tillie, who patted her on the head. “I knew you were going to be my good luck charm.”

I watched as Aunt Tillie shoved the twenty into a metal tin on a folding chair next to her small display table. Landon followed my gaze and strode over to take the tin from Aunt Tillie. She put up a fight, but Landon was stronger – and more determined. When it opened, his mouth dropped open. He pulled out a thick wad of bills. “How much is this?”

“That’s mine,” Aunt Tillie said, reaching for the bills.

Landon raised them higher. “How much is this?”

“It’s a thousand dollars, give or take,” Aunt Tillie said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You’ve made a thousand dollars in less than twenty-four hours?” I was impressed.

“I’m a good saleswoman.”

“This is still illegal,” Landon said.

“Oh, well, then arrest me,” Aunt Tillie said, holding her hands out in front of her. “Arrest a little old lady and prosecute her for trying to scratch out a living. Way to protect the public.”

“You have an inn,” Landon said. “You don’t need the money from this. You’re just doing it to annoy everyone.”

“I’m an entrepreneur,” Aunt Tillie replied. “You’re just jealous.”

Landon glanced at Bay for support. “Do you want to chime in here?”

“I’m just wondering if selling newspapers by the edge of the road would be worth it,” Bay admitted.

Landon turned to me. I held up my hands. “I’m going to bring some of the new lotions and candles I made out here. I think she’s on to something.”

“You people are unbelievable,” Landon said, tossing the money back at Aunt Tillie and stalking back toward the inn. “Un-freaking-believable.”

“HOW
much did you end up with?”

I was watching Aunt Tillie count her bounty from across the dining room table. After dragging another table out to the road, and putting bottles of lotion, herbs and candles on it, we’d taken turns letting Basil dance. By the time the day was over, I’d raked in five hundred bucks – and watched Basil laugh for an entire afternoon. The laughter was worth more than the money in my book.

“It’s just under sixteen hundred,” Aunt Tillie said. “I’m halfway to my goal.”

“What are you going to use the money for?”

“I need a new plow,” she said. “Mine is shot.”

Aunt Tillie likes to plow things in the winter. She says it’s because she enjoys helping out those in need. Personally? I think she just likes to ram into things with her truck. Technically, she doesn’t have a driver’s license, so she shouldn’t be plowing. No one in town – except Landon – ever calls her on it.

Basil, her cheeks pink from a little too much sun, slid into the open chair between us. She had a cookie in her hand, and a smile on her face.

“Did you have fun today?” I asked.

Basil nodded.

“Are you ready to talk yet?” I pressed.

Basil pretended she didn’t hear me.

Aunt Tillie watched her thoughtfully for a moment. “Don’t bug her,” she said finally. “She’ll talk when she wants to talk.”

Basil nodded in agreement.

“You know, when Thistle was little, she went an entire week without talking,” Aunt Tillie said.

“I did not.”

“She did,” Aunt Tillie said, ignoring me. “She was mad. She thought her cousin Clove had stolen her doll and beheaded it.”

A memory tugged at the recesses of my mind.

“She said she wasn’t going to talk until Clove admitted doing it,” Aunt Tillie said. “When someone asked her what she wanted for dinner, do you know what she did? She barked like a dog.”

I wanted to argue, but the story sounded vaguely familiar.

“When someone asked her if she wanted a new doll, she barked like a dog,” Aunt Tillie continued. “It was pretty freaking annoying. Finally, I had to tell her the truth – and I hate telling people the truth. Clove wasn’t the one who beheaded that doll.”

“It was you,” I interjected.

“It was creepy,” Aunt Tillie said. “It was like it was watching me. I swear it was haunted.”

Basil’s eyes widened.

“It wasn’t really haunted,” I said. “She’s just making that up. She just didn’t like the doll.”

“It wasn’t haunted,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “It just wanted to be.”

I shook my head. “Don’t tell her that,” I said. “You’re going to give her nightmares. The doll wasn’t haunted. It was just ugly. That’s why I liked it. I knew it bothered Aunt Tillie.”

“I knew it,” Aunt Tillie said. “You picked out that doll from the antique store because you knew I hated it, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t even like dolls,” I said.

Basil giggled. I tickled her ribs briefly. “Why don’t you go and get washed up? Dinner will be served in a few minutes. I’ll bet you’re hungry.”

Basil nodded and disappeared from the room. Seconds later, Chief Terry let himself into the dining room from the main foyer. “Hello, ladies.” He pulled up short when he saw all the money on the table. “What’s that?”

“They illegally sold goods next to the road all day,” Landon said, breezing in from the kitchen with Bay and Clove on his heels. “I stayed in the guesthouse so I didn’t see it and wouldn’t have to arrest them.”

“Holy crap,” Clove said, eyeing the money. “You made that much just from selling lotion and candles next to the road?”

“It was surprisingly easy,” I admitted. “I think Aunt Tillie is on to something.”

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all … well … forever,” Aunt Tillie said.

“You both make me tired,” Landon said, turning his attention to Chief Terry. “Anything?”

“We got a hit on her fingerprints,” Chief Terry said, settling at the table and running his hand through his graying hair. “Her name is Annie Martin.”

“Does she live around here?” Bay asked.

Chief Terry shook his head. “She’s from Minnesota.”

“What was she doing here?” I asked.

“That’s a very good question,” Chief Terry said. “All we know right now is that Annie Martin and her mother Belinda left the state of Minnesota three weeks ago. We don’t know when they got to Michigan, and we don’t know why they came to Michigan. We executed a search warrant, and we should have some credit card information tomorrow.

“For now, though, we just don’t know,” he said.

“What about her father?” Landon asked.