Stone: a Doyle Witch Cozy Mystery by Kirsten Weiss

Author:Kirsten Weiss [weiss, kirsten]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: witch mystery, cozy mystery, novella, amateur detective, woman sleuth, female sleuth, murder, killing, crime, cats, dogs
Publisher: misterio press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Time slowed. I could see the contours of the growing blackness. I could hear the whistle of air as the thing streaked downward. I could smell the acrid scent of my own panic.

I threw myself sideways and landed on hard, cold paving stones.

A dull explosion pelted me with earth and sharp objects, and then all was quiet.

Shakily, I got to my feet. The remains of an enormous ceramic pot lay shattered amidst clots of dark earth. Geranium petals dotted the paving stones like drops of blood.

Heart banging against my ribcage, I looked up. I stood directly beneath the other giant pot.

I hurtled myself backward and out of firing range. That had been no accident. I'd heard someone drag the first planter across the balcony.

Too bad I hadn’t realized what I’d been hearing at the time.

I stared into the darkness above the balcony. Whoever had done this was either long gone or well hidden.

I looked some more at the broken pot. The thing had to weigh at least fifty pounds—probably more. If it had landed on my head, goodbye, Jayce.

My jaw hardened. Augustus.

The front door burst open. As if summoned by my thought, Augustus bolted toward me with a high-pitched shout.

“No!” I raised my fists and braced for the attack.

He knocked my shoulder, spinning me around. Augustus sprinted past, pounding across the lawn to the driveway. He jumped into his convertible and peeled through the high, iron gates.

Feeling stupid, I lowered my fists.

The front door yawned open, in invitation.

“Oh, I’m not falling for that.”

I called the sheriff.

“You got something?” she asked.

And suddenly I remembered that ugly newspaper article, and my face heated. It wasn't my fault Tom had printed what he had, but somehow it felt like it was.

“I'm at the Stone House,” I said. “Or I was, I was just leaving—”

“Who let you in?”

“Augustus.” Okay, he hadn't let me in, but he'd let me out and that was close enough. “It's a long story. The thing is, as I was leaving, someone shoved one of those giant geranium pots over the balcony. It nearly killed me.”

“Someone? How do you know it didn't just fall?”

“I heard them dragging the pot to the edge of the railing.”

She didn't respond.

“It didn't just fall,” I said.

“I don't know what you were thinking going over there.”

“Please don't tell me it's my fault someone tried to murder me with a monster flowerpot,” I snapped. Now that would have been an embarrassing death.

Her voice turned icy. “That's not what I'm saying.” She released a slow exhale. “All right. Get somewhere safe. I'll be there in five minutes.” The sheriff hung up.

My pickup was parked four blocks away. I’d given the truck and the house distance, so no one would connect me to a break-in. I wasn't keen on trekking down the dark streets to get to it.

On the other hand, the house was super haunted, and there might be a murderer inside. Clearly, my F-150 was a better bet.

On the other other hand, I was a pissed-off witch with a weapons-grade flashlight.

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