Careful What You Witch For Read Online Free PDF Page B

think you’re good enough for her.” Landon’s words were succinct – and brutal.
    “Landon.” Bay’s voice was low, her gaze worried. “I don’t think now is the time.”
    Landon rubbed the back of her head. “Clove is an adult,” he said. “I’m not going to tell her what to do.”
    “Well, thanks for that … I guess,” Sam said, his hand tightening around mine.
    “That doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and idly watch you hurt her,” Landon continued.
    “I notice you don’t have the same problem with Marcus,” Sam pointed out.
    “Marcus didn’t lie to get close to the family,” Landon replied.
    “I didn’t lie,” Sam protested. “I kept my mother’s witch side to myself. How is that any different from what they do?”
    “They didn’t seek you out and try to get close to you,” Landon said, unruffled. “They keep to themselves.”
    “I keep to myself,” Sam said. “If you want me to apologize for trying to investigate them before making my past known, then I will. I’m sorry. That doesn’t mean I regret coming here, and it certainly doesn’t mean I regret having a relationship with Clove.”
    I was moved by his words. Landon? Not so much.
    “I’m watching you,” Landon said, returning his attention to the iPad and Bay. “If you hurt her, you’ll be sorry.”
    Despite myself, Landon’s words warmed me. It was nice that he cared – even if he was hurting Sam in the process.
     
    “WHERE is everyone?” Bay asked, joining Sam and me in the foyer. It was after lunch, and an afternoon excursion had left the inn empty – except for a few brave souls who had remained behind. Most of them were related to me.
    “They went on a tour of the town,” I said. “Dad thought that showing them everything was a good way to prove how entertaining a stay at the inn would be.”
    Bay’s face was unreadable as she slipped behind the bar and studied the offerings. “This is all … blah.”
    “Thistle picked up stuff to make chocolate martinis,” I said. “It’s in the bag behind the counter.”
    Bay retrieved the bag in question and then returned to the bar. “At least she was thinking ahead.”
    “I think we’re just spoiled,” I said, my gaze bouncing between Bay and Sam at regular intervals. No one had spoken to one another since the hammock incident, and I wasn’t sure if I was thankful for that or not. “Where is Landon?”
    “He’s upstairs on the laptop,” Bay said.
    “Did he find something?” I leaned forward, intrigued.
    “We found one thing,” Bay said. “There was an odd death out here in the seventies.”
    I waited.
    Bay sighed. “The Dragonfly was a premier inn around these parts for decades,” she said. “It went by a different name, but it was popular. They had a lot of guests stay here. That’s when the economy was good, before the industrial base died away. The skiing was always a draw.
    “In 1975, Marian Lecter visited the Dragonfly with her husband and two children,” Bay continued. “They all had a nice dinner together, and then everyone went to bed. Witnesses say that Marian and her husband Will seemed happy. There were no outwards signs of … distress.
    “Sometime in the night, Marian left the bedroom and disappeared,” Bay said. “Will claimed he was asleep, and he had no idea his wife was even gone. When he woke up in the morning, he sounded the alarm.
    “Marian’s body was found about two hundred yards behind the inn,” Bay continued. “It was hidden under heavy brush. The police were called, and they were searching, but it was Will Lecter who found the body.”
    “Which tipped the cops off,” Sam said. “Did he kill her?”
    Bay shrugged. “The autopsy said that Marian Lecter was strangled. There was no sign of sexual assault, but her underwear was missing. Will Lecter was convicted of the crime, and he spent thirty years in prison before he died.”
    “Do you think it’s her?” I asked. The story was dark … and