“Because Aunt Tillie wants to use them to further torture you. Why do you think we’re seeing this so soon after you were cut off from the … loving?”
Instead of reacting with anger, Landon smirked. “She is a sadistic thing, isn’t she?”
“I believe that’s the top line on her business cards.”
“The amusement park it is.” Landon tugged so I would follow. “This place is really weird.”
“Really?” Thistle rolled her eyes. “What was your first clue?”
WE STOPPED FOR THE FIRST familiar face we saw. Mrs. Gunderson, the owner of a Hemlock Cove bakery and Aunt Tillie’s former friend who now served as an occasional confidant, stood behind a game booth where players had to select floating ducks to win a prize. She beamed when she saw us.
“Do you fancy a try of your luck?”
Landon slid a gaze to me. “I’m guessing this is part of the show.”
“I guess.” I dug in my pocket and came up empty. “Does anyone have any money?”
Everyone fruitlessly searched their pockets and offered up a series of head shakes.
“I guess we can’t play,” I told Mrs. Gunderson. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you don’t need money.” Mrs. Gunderson’s eyes gleamed. “You simply need the courage to pick a duck.”
“That doesn’t sound hard.” Clove reached toward the tank, but Thistle slapped her hand back, earning a whine and a glare for her efforts.
“Don’t,” Thistle warned. “This is Aunt Tillie’s game. There are consequences for everything we do. Nothing is as simple as picking a duck and getting something we want.”
“She’s right,” Landon said. “We’re risking a lot by picking a duck.”
“What could we possibly risk?” Sam queried.
“I have no idea, but I wouldn’t put it past her to force us into a world without bacon or something if we pick the wrong duck,” Landon replied. “Or maybe she’ll find a way to separate us … or something worse.”
“So you don’t want to pick a duck?” Mrs. Gunderson was confused. “Why come to Witch Island if you don’t want to test your luck?”
“That’s a good question,” I said. “What can you tell us about them?” I gestured toward the mud pits, making sure to keep my eyes from focusing. No one wanted to see what was going on over there. Okay, the guys kept sneaking looks when they thought no one was watching, but they didn’t openly stare or anything.
“Them?” Mrs. Gunderson arched an eyebrow. “They’re dead.”
“Dead?”
Mrs. Gunderson nodded. “They all died tragic deaths and left their loved ones behind. Then they were forced to wait here until the scheduled reunions.”
Something about the story niggled the back of my brain, but I couldn’t quite remember where I’d heard it before.
“Is this heaven?” Landon asked, his eyes drifting to the mud pits of love. “If so, I can see wanting to spend your afterlife that way.”
I shot him a dirty look.
“What?” Landon held his hands palms up. “Tell me that your idea of heaven doesn’t involve you, me and one of those pits, with a waitress who brings us nonstop chocolate martinis and bacon.”
“It’s not a terrible way to spend our afterlife,” I conceded. “We’re not there yet, though.”
“And I’m thankful for that.”
“We need to focus on the here and now.”
“I am.”
“Then stop leering like a pervert,” I ordered. “I need to ask Mrs. Gunderson some questions, but I can’t do that if I’m constantly watching you to make sure you don’t get an inadvertent eyeful.”
Instead of being offended, Landon barked out a laugh. “Fine. You have a deal.”
“Great.” I swiveled back to the game. “What do you mean they’re dead?”
“They’re dead,” Mrs. Gunderson repeated. “One half of each super couple died in the real world and they were transported here.”
“Where they met someone to frolic with in the mud?” Sam asked.
Mrs. Gunderson shook her head. “No. They’re super couples. The other people in the pits are merely momentary distractions.”
“Did she just explain something?” Landon asked.
“Maybe.” Something clicked in my head. “I remember this. It was a Days of Our Lives storyline. Aunt Tillie showed us some highlights when we were kids.”
“And it’s important because?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What do you remember about the story?” Landon was calm. “It has to play into whatever comes next.”
“I remember that a lot of characters died. They were all halves of super couples or popular couples. Their loved ones were left behind to mourn, and then something happened – although I can’t remember what – and somehow the other halves of the couples ended up on the island and everyone was reunited … and there was a lot of music montage sex happening.”
“And that’s what you think is going on here?”
“I don’t know.” I glanced at the nearest mud pit, cringing when I caught sight of what could only be described as vigorous … grinding. “I don’t remember it being like that.”
“Aunt Tillie has them doing that because she doesn’t want us to focus on them,” Thistle supplied. “They’re important to the story, but she doesn’t want us to stare. We need to figure out why.”
If anyone understood Aunt Tillie’s busy brain, it was Thistle. They were so much alike it was often hard to differentiate them.
“It has to be about the couples,” I said. “She’s trying to warn us about something.”
“What?” Landon was instantly alert. “What is she trying to warn us about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she trying to separate us?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she trying to make us fight?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she trying to drive me abso-freaking-lutely crazy?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?” Landon was on edge, and I couldn’t ignore his dark expression.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I purposely dragged out my words as I sucked in a calming breath. “I don’t know what she has planned. It’s just she rarely expends energy on something like this if it’s not going to come back to bite us later.”
Landon seemed to realize he was clutching me rather tightly, so he loosened his grip on my hand. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
I flashed a smile. “That was hardly you losing your temper. I’ve seen you much angrier than that.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Landon pressed a kiss to my forehead before swiveling to face everyone else. “We need to be careful. If the storyline she’s trying to mimic here is about couples, that means she’s going to do something to us … perhaps separate us.”
“What good would that do?” Sam challenged. “Isn’t it more fun for her to torture us together?”
“Not if she can get her jollies by separating us.” Landon gripped my hand as tightly as possible, Marcus and Sam followed suit with their respective girlfriends. “She’ll enjoy separating us if she can. I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen very soon if she gets her way.”
I wanted to argue with him, but it was fruitless. I was resigned to what was about to happen. “Landon … .”
“No.” Landon extended a warning finger. “I won’t be separated from you. This world is hard enough without that. I can’t take it.”
“I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop it.”
“Oh, I’ll stop it.” Landon puffed out his chest. “If she tries taking you from me, I swear, I’m going to sit down in the middle of this stupid island and wait for the locusts to come. I won’t play the game without you.”
I did my best to be diplomatic. “It’s not as if we’ll be separated forever.”
“You sound as if you want it to happen.”
“I don’t, but if I work myself into a tizzy before it happens, when it does happen – and I believe that’s what she’s working toward – I’ll start doing something embarrassing like crying. I don’t want that.”
“I don’t want that either.” Landon pulled me into his arms and gave me a long hug. “There has to be a way to make sure we don’t get separated.”
“The lesson is in the story,” I reminded him. “She loves soaps because most of the time the couples she loves end up together. Sure, occasionally it doesn’t happen because of actors and contracts, but a happy ending is the rule rather than the exception on soaps.”