Free Wicked Brew by Amanda M. Lee Page B

to glue his mouth shut – but only after I cut all of his fingers off and shoved them into his mouth so he’d have something to chew on. Yes, I know, I’m incredibly mean and vindictive. Maybe I am turning into Aunt Tillie? Oh, who am I kidding? I’m way meaner than Aunt Tillie ever dreamed of being.
    “I see my reputation precedes me,” Denham said, his dimple coming out to play as he smiled in my direction. “And who are you?”
    “This is Thistle Winchester,” Chief Terry said, stepping in smoothly. “She was one of the people who found Annie.”
    “Well then, I guess I owe you a world of thanks,” Denham said. “If it weren’t for you, she might have wandered around the countryside until she died of exposure.”
    Something told me he would have preferred that outcome. “Well, that’s not what happened,” I said, forcing my tone to remain even. “We found her, and we took care of her.”
    “Oh, are you foster parents?” Denham was playing a dangerous game, and I wanted him to lose.
    “No.”
    “Then how did my daughter end up with you?”
    “She was traumatized after the accident,” Chief Terry explained. “She wouldn’t speak. She seemed attached to Thistle … .”
    “And me,” Aunt Tillie chimed in.
    “And Tillie,” Chief Terry said, not missing a beat. “We didn’t want to traumatize her even more than she already was. The Winchesters run an inn. They had plenty of room, and food, and people to watch Annie. She was spoiled rotten during her stay.”
    Denham glanced around the room, his face unreadable. “Well, then I guess I owe you all thanks.”
    “You’re welcome,” Aunt Tillie said.
    Denham smiled down at her. I knew what he saw: A sweet old woman who he could charm and wrap around his finger. He was in for a surprise. “I’ll just bet you gave my little girl all the love she could ever need.”
    Aunt Tillie remained silent, but I could see her mind working from here.
    “I’m sure it wasn’t easy,” Denham continued. “It’s hard to take care of a little girl who won’t speak. It’s too bad she can’t talk. She might have been able to tell you what happened to her mother. That is a tragedy.”
    “Belinda is alive.” I took perverse pleasure in telling him.
    Denham remained still, but I could swear his eyes momentarily flashed. “If Belinda is alive, why did you call us?”
    “We just found her tonight,” Landon said. “Her car was wrecked and hidden under an old creek bridge. She was alive, though. The doctors are working on her now.”
    “And what did she … tell you?” Denham asked.
    “She hasn’t woken up yet,” Chief Terry said.
    Denham’s shoulders relaxed. “Is she going to wake up?”
    “We’re not sure yet.”
    “She’s going to wake up,” I said. “She fought this long. She’ll wake up. She has something to live for.”
    “Do you have a problem with me?” Denham asked, the question a challenge.
    “No, she doesn’t,” Chief Terry said. “Everyone is just worked up this evening.”
    “I have a problem with you,” Aunt Tillie announced. For once, I was on her side.
    Denham raised his eyebrows, placating the sweet old lady he saw in his mind with a smile. “Because I didn’t get here fast enough? I am sorry. It was a long drive.”
    “Because you’re a sick pile of bat droppings that’s sat out in the sun too long and petrified,” Aunt Tillie replied, matching him evil grin for evil grin.
    Denham was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
    Aunt Tillie wasn’t anywhere near being done. “What kind of a man seduces and has sex with a high school student?”
    “A sick one,” I supplied.
    “A sick one,” Aunt Tillie agreed. “A predator. I’m guessing you preyed on Belinda because she was young and she didn’t have a lot of parental influence. You knew exactly what you were doing. The pregnancy probably took you by surprise, but I’m sure your parents either paid her off – or threatened her off – to keep your name off that birth