Every Witch Way But Wicked (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery) by Amanda M. Lee Page A

actually believed that, but we’d all been trained not to alarm the guests when Aunt Tillie went into one of her “fits”.
    Landon slid a curious look in my direction. “What the hell was that?”
    “Aunt Tillie is . . . persnickety.”
    “Good word,” Landon encouraged me. He leaned in close so only I could hear him for the next part of his statement. “I don’t believe you for a second. You’re all worried. That old lady is up to something in the kitchen, isn’t she?”
    “We’re not worried,” I lied. “She won’t do anything.” As long as Twila locked up the Belladonna, that was probably a true statement.
    “So,” Marnie said nervously, trying to change the subject. “I hear you’re working on Myron’s murder?”
    Landon turned to Marnie. “I am. I have a few questions, if you’re up to it?”
    “What do you want to know?”
    “Did you used to date Mr. Grisham?”
    “When I was twenty, we dated for about six months,” Marnie admitted.
    “What can you tell me about him?”
    “He could do a full keg stand for two minutes,” Marnie said blankly.
    Landon looked surprised. I think his face mirrored mine. “You know what a keg stand is?”
    “I wasn’t always a mother and aunt,” Marnie waved off my surprise. “I went to my fair share of parties.”
    Landon smiled, despite himself. “What else can you tell me?”
    “I don’t know,” Marnie shrugged. “We were young. He was a nice man. We had a lot of laughs. It wasn’t exactly a serious relationship.”
    “What can you tell me about his family?”
    “His mom died when he was a baby,” Marnie supplied. “His dad was a deliveryman, back when milk was still dropped off at people’s doors. I never really saw him that much.”
    “And where is his father now?”
    “He died right before Marcus joined the Army,” Marnie answered.
    “Is that why he joined the Army?”
    “I can’t be sure, we had broken up by then, but I would guess that had something to do with it,” Marnie said. “He lost the restaurant, too. He wasn’t a very good businessman.”
    “When was the last time you talked to him?” Landon asked.
    “I don’t know, a couple days ago? I would run into him around town but never really talk to him.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because he was always drunk,” Marnie said honestly. “You can’t really hold a deep conversation with someone like that.”
    She had a point.
    Landon seemed satisfied with Marnie’s answers. He turned his attention to his lasagna and listened in lazily to the conversation buzzing around us. It was pretty mindless, though.
    Thanks to the sudden silence, all I could focus on was the warmth emanating from Landon’s body due to our close proximity. It was a calming feeling, which surprised me. Usually he was like a coiled snake ready to strike. His relaxation – especially around the nuttiness of my family – was a whole other facet to him.
    Unfortunately, the calm that was washing over me was short-lived It was interrupted by raised voices from the kitchen. What now?
    I got up from the table and followed the sound of the voices. When I entered the kitchen I found Twila and Aunt Tillie wrestling over an herb bottle at the sink. “What’s going on?”
    “She’s going to poison him,” Twila huffed.
    “Just a little,” Aunt Tillie grumbled, relinquishing the bottle to Twila.
    “You can’t poison him,” I pointed out. “Chief Terry would know it was you.”
    Aunt Tillie shrugged and moved to leave the kitchen and go back into the dining room. I didn’t trust her for a second. I grabbed her elbow to slow her. “You’ve never given up this easily in your life?”
    “I don’t have to poison him to make him pay,” Aunt Tillie pointed out.
    This was true. “If you’re going to curse him, can you do something that makes him want to leave the paper?”
    Aunt Tillie squared her shoulders resolutely. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Sixteen
    When everyone was back out in the dining room and