wicked witches 07.5 - christmas witch by Amanda M. Lee Read Free Book Online

if you hated me.” Clove dissolved into tears.
    Clove’s performance was enough to make Terry distraught. “Oh, sweetie, I could never hate you,” he said. He pulled her in for a quick hug. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Don’t cry, Clove. I don’t like it when you cry.”
    “I can’t help myself,” Clove wailed. “I’m so sad!”
    Terry hugged her again, casting a hateful look my way over her shoulder as he tried to soothe her. I had to give it to the kid; when she wanted to lay it on thick she was downright amazing.
    After Clove’s sobs subsided, Terry released her and fixed his attention on me. “I know they’re lying,” he said, his voice low. “The problem is, I can’t upset them because then I’ll be upset.
    “I want you to know, though, that the neighbors called in a tip and they say you hoisted one of the girls through the side window,” he continued. “I know darned well you broke into this house, and you should be ashamed of yourself for forcing these girls to lie.”
    I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I would never force these sweet angels to lie. That’s a horrible thing to say to an old lady.”
    “Horrible,” Thistle echoed. “Now Aunt Tillie wants to cry.”
    I scorched Thistle with an angry look. “I’m not going to cry.”
    “Oh, you want to,” Thistle said. “I can see it in the way your face is all pinched up.”
    “Yeah,” Bay said, grinning evilly. “I think Officer Terry would like it if you cried. Then he’d believe you.”
    Five minutes ago those two were my favorites. Now I want to lock them in the closet with the dirty underwear and never let them out. “I’m crying on the inside,” I said.
    Terry made a face. “You really should be ashamed of yourself.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m not,” I said, clapping my hands to get everyone’s attention. “Girls, Terry is here to handle Mr. Hill’s house and take care of all of that for us. We don’t have to worry.”
    “He’s still missing,” Bay pointed out. “Christmas is still ruined.”
    I was about to go off on a Christmas rant when Terry stepped in front of me, cutting me off from a doozy of a meltdown, and knelt in front of Bay.
    “Christmas won’t be ruined,” Terry said. “Even if Mr. Hill can’t play Santa Claus, I promise that Christmas won’t be ruined for you. It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to worry so much. You’ll give yourself an ulcer.”
    “Like Mrs. Stevens has on her lip?” Clove asked.
    Terry furrowed his brow. “I thought that was a cold sore.”
    “Aunt Tillie says it’s herpes and an ulcer of the lip,” Thistle supplied. “She says we never want one and the mailman gives them to you.”
    Terry scowled. “Nice.”
    “They asked,” I said. “Come on, girls. I’ll take you down to the bakery for some hot chocolate and doughnuts to brighten your day.”
    “I want chocolate and sprinkles,” Thistle said.
    “I don’t care what you get on it,” I shot back. “Go get in the car.”
    “I want chocolate and sprinkles, too,” Clove said, falling into line behind Thistle. “It will make me feel better after my terrible day.”
    “I’m going to give you something to cry about if you don’t get in that car now,” I hissed in her ear.
    Terry remained crouched in front of Bay, reaching up to brush her flyaway hair from her face. “I promise you’re going to have the best Christmas ever,” he said. “Try not to worry about this.”
    “Will you make Aunt Tillie get us a puppy?” Bay asked.
    “You’re not getting a puppy,” I snapped.
    Terry ignored me. “I’ll do you one better,” he said. “I’ll talk to your mom and aunts about the puppy. They’re probably going to be more open than your Aunt Tillie.”
    “Do you think they’ll get us one?”
    “I … .” Terry isn’t the type of man to make empty promises to a child. I like that about him. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I do know