The Caretaker: A Cozy Paranormal Midlife Mystery (The Witches of Blackwood Grove Book 1) by Shawn McGuire

The Caretaker: A Cozy Paranormal Midlife Mystery (The Witches of Blackwood Grove Book 1) by Shawn McGuire

Author:Shawn McGuire [McGuire, Shawn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brown Bag Books
Published: 2024-06-22T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 13

Ileft the jail and drove directly home, my mind spinning. I tried to come up with a plan of attack for getting Carly out of there but kept getting distracted by the residual fury she directed at me. The best way for me to get back in control when it got like this was to be outside. The urge to dig in the dirt, breathe in fresh air, and soak in some sun became almost overwhelming the closer I got to Applewood Farm. If Jett didn’t need help in the garden, which was unlikely, I’d go for a hike.

A pickup truck I didn’t recognize caught my attention the moment I entered the driveway. It was parked in front of the workshop barn, so I tucked my car into the garage slot beneath the apartment and walked over. Long drawers pulled out of the back and were about half the length of the six-foot bed. They were loaded with what looked like medical supplies. Metal boxes in the front half of the bed opened to the side for access to more supplies. What was going on? Why was there a doctor here? Then I read the words on the side of the truck. Kramer Veterinary Services. Kramer?

I looked up to find the bald man I’d seen the other day coming out of the workshop. Being closer to him, my eyes immediately went to the tattoos on his head. They were contained to within his hairline, and if he let his hair grow, I wouldn’t know they were there. Those on his temples, neck, arms, and hands covered almost every inch of skin. Then I looked at his face and gasped. Nash Kramer.

“Lady,” he called. “Come here.”

I thought he was talking to me and was about to yell at him for being rude when his pit bull trotted out of the workshop. Cricket came running out a second later and headed straight for the dog. Unsure if the dog was dangerous or not, I was about to holler at Cricket to stop, but as she got close, the pittie with the bright-pink collar dropped to the ground and rolled to her back so Cricket could give her a two-handed belly rub.

Emma appeared from the workshop next and gave me a wave.

Shocked, both at my granddaughter climbing all over this dog and Emma’s carefree attitude . . . and seeing Nash Kramer in our driveway, I stepped closer to find out what was going on.

He looked at me, his expression neutral. “You were staring at me the other day. Thought you looked familiar.”

“Same, that’s why I was staring. You look a little different now.” I pointed at the dog. “I assume she’s the lady you were calling.”

He nodded his tattooed head. “That’s her name and her temperament.” He pointed at Cricket. “She’s yours?”

“My granddaughter, yes.” I watched as he went to his truck, put some items back into the drawers, and then pulled other things out. “What are you doing here?”

He pointed at his business’ name on the truck.



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