Broom Service by Morgana Best

Author:Morgana Best [Best, Morgana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Best Cosy Books

Chapter 11

The following morning, I got up early and staggered into the kitchen like a zombie, my hands extended in front of me, searching for the coffee pot. I got the coffee ready and then heard a grunt behind me.

I swung around to see Oleander.

“You look like a zombie,” she said.

I grunted. “Have you looked in the mirror? And is Athanasius awake yet?”

“After I have some coffee, I’ll knock on his door.”

“Did somebody mention my name?” said a male voice from the doorway. Athanasius tottered into the kitchen.

“You know, I wonder how all those law-abiding, non-coffee drinking citizens manage in the mornings,” I said. “I can’t imagine how anyone could live without a drop of caffeine in their bloodstreams.”

Oleander, Athanasius, and even Persnickle all grunted in response.

Persnickle looked bleary-eyed. “You can have an early breakfast for once,” I told him, “but don’t get into the habit of demanding it at six in the morning.”

Persnickle ate his breakfast before waddling out of the room. I stuck my head around the kitchen door to see he had headed straight back to his wombat bed and had probably fallen asleep. I hoped I wasn’t going to have any trouble getting him in the car at this early hour.

“Are you sure Max won’t catch us if we go this early?” Oleander asked me.

“I don’t think he’s following me, and he has his hands full with his relatives. He won’t suspect we’re going back to the crash scene today. He has no idea I’m a sea witch and I can speak to ghosts with the help of Persnickle.”

Athanasius chuckled, but Oleander said, “When are you going to tell him?”

I clutched my stomach. “When the relationship is a little more advanced. It’s not something I can bring up easily.”

Athanasius and Oleander nodded solemnly. After we each had three cups of coffee, we all felt sufficiently caffeinated to leave the house. I clicked Persnickle’s leash on him and said, “Ride in the car.”

Persnickle did a happy dance.

At this hour, the traffic on the road to Brisbane was light. I was able to do a U-turn and pull off the road at the site of Sheila McFeeler’s fatal car crash. Persnickle hopped out of the car nimbly. Oleander and Athanasius followed more slowly.

I walked over to the tree. “Sheila! Sheila McFeeler!” I called out. I looked around me. Nothing. “I don’t think she’s here,” I told them.

“Maybe she has crossed over or gone towards the light or whatever ghosts do,” Athanasius said.

Oleander shot him a glare. “That’s not very helpful.”

“It might not be helpful, but it might be a fact.”

“She’s possibly hanging around her house,” I said. “I’ll try here a bit longer, and then we will go to the house.”

We stayed there another five minutes, which was longer than I wanted to stay, but I wanted to be certain that the ghost wasn’t going to appear before I left for her house. All the while, I was watching the road, hoping Max wouldn’t catch me. Explaining why

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