Witches of Crystal Cove: Murder Most Spiteful Book 11 (Witch Cozy Mystery and Paranormal Romance) by Emma Watts

Author:Emma Watts [Watts, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-10-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Keith Thompson lived on the west side of town in a small neighborhood that was mostly rentals. It was known for housing those on a lower income. Jane followed Anthony to a parking area and they pulled up alongside each other.

“Now leave the talking to me,” he said.

“Anthony, you asked me to come along and help, not to be your mute sidekick.”

“I didn’t mean that. I just… well…” He trailed off, he knew it was a waste of time to start an argument with her.

They strolled up to a dilapidated house. Most of them were built by the same builder. They were your typical two-bedroom homes, everything inside was basic. Anthony gave a hard knock on the door and stepped back. He cast a glance at Jane and smirked. Everything was amusing to that guy. For a moment she wondered if she had something in her teeth or a piece of tree stuck in her hair. It would have been just like him to not tell her.

The door opened and standing before them was Keith in a pair of sweatpants and a white muscle T-shirt that had a stain on the front. A gust of air from inside wafted out and Jane cringed. It was like a mix of smoke and cat pee. She noticed three cats in the background.

“Yeah?”

“Keith, I’m—”

“I know who you are, what do you want?”

“A few minutes of your time.”

“Look, I’m kinda busy right now. You mind coming back in an hour or two?”

“Really, this will only take a few minutes,” Jane added.

He exhaled hard. “Just give me a second,” he turned, closed the door and disappeared out back. They could hear him making a noise, as though he was cleaning up or hiding something. When he returned, he opened the door and waved them on in. Anthony was first inside, Jane followed.

She immediately caught the aroma of weed lingering in the air. It was heavy, like he had just lit up. That stuff would cling to anything. It had a very unique smell and even though the laws were beginning to change on who could use it and in what states, it still had a stigma attached to it. One being that if you smoked it, you were probably some stoner loser. She didn’t think so but then again she had never really understood what the fuss was about. Those she knew who smoked it, were either high as a kite and paranoid or locked into a couch and unable to do anything but sleep. She couldn’t see how anyone could function on that. It wasn’t like it made a person happy. She had to assume he was a medical client and was using it for some illness.

“Is that weed?” Anthony said.

“What? No.”

He gestured to the table where there was a grinder and a few crumbs. Keith immediately went over and scooped it up and tossed it inside his couch. Of all places to get rid of it, he stashed it down the side of the couch.

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