Witch Slapped by Dakota Cassidy

Author:Dakota Cassidy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book Boutiques
Published: 2019-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I hauled myself upward and dabbed at the mud on my face with my Hermes scarf, moving from the open window as quickly as I could before whoever was inside realized I was right beneath it.

I skedaddled around the corner and stood in front of the spice shop, turning my back to the street. Spitting the mud from my mouth, I opened my purse and whispered, “Belfry!”

His tiny white body came into view in seconds, swooping down against the wind until he was on my shoulder with a shake and a shiver before hopping inside my purse.

“What was the five-alarm fire about, Bel? Was it the police? Or a detective?” I asked him, still wondering about the guy in the trench coat I’d seen yesterday before Tito the Taco Vendor broke up with me.

“I dunno, Boss. But it was some guy who smelled real good. Didn’t get a decent look at him because he had his head down and a slicker on. Dark suit and nice shoes, though.”

“Maybe we should try and see who it was?” I peered toward Madam Zoltar’s shop, the flashing sign no longer blinking cheerfully at me.

“He’s already gone. He probably heard you carrying on about jumping out of a window and got spooked. Seeing as we have to wait to speak to Liza and her father, shall we continue this conversation back at the house before you catch your death?” Win suggested.

Ah, the house. I’d forgotten that was where I’d hang my hat tonight. “Because it’s so warm and toasty there with no heat and no windows?”

Win chuckled that hearty gurgle of laughter. “You don’t give my man enough credit. You’ll see, naysayer.”

I was almost afraid to put any credence in Win’s words, but I was freezing and exhausted, so I played along as I waved down a cab and climbed in. My head was full of thoughts and a list of suspects as we left the main part of town and drove through the winding road leading to my new abode.

When we pulled up to the house, the cab driver turned around and hitched his jaw at the house. “Quite a project you’re takin’ on there.”

I hooted a sarcastic laugh, handing him money. “Is that subtext for disaster?”

He grinned at me over his shoulder. “You know the lady who lived here? You a relative?”

I shook my head, interested in what he had to offer in the way of information about the house’s prior owner. “No idea who she was. I sort of inherited it.”

“Let’s go, Stevie,” Win muttered impatiently.

Clamping my fingers together behind my head, I gave him the universal sign for shut it and asked the cab driver, “Who lived here?”

“Some lady named Melinda. Don’t know her last name or much about her. She died about five years ago, just a week after she bought the place. Fell off the cliff out there right into the Sound. It was for sale forever. Can’t believe someone actually bought the dump. Thought she might be your relative.

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