Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1)
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I froze. The door to all my night
mares creaked alarmingly. Usually, I managed to keep that door locked tight.

A witch
’s Book of Spells is her most sacred object. It’s a rite of passage when you receive your book. It’s also a witch’s vulnerable spot when it comes to magic. As most witches - our coven aside - are immortal, these books are kept in a secret location known only to the owner.

On the extremely rare occasion when a witch died, her Spell Book was passed down to her closest relative.

Me.

With our background and exclusion from the majority of the Wiccans, we have always been a bit lax with certain customs. It shook me right down to the tips of my boots that my aunt wanted me to take part of this one.

My mother had given me her desk when I was a child. I could deal with that. I could even treasure it. This would be the first thing of hers I had received after her death.

When she
’d died, we’d simply boxed everything up, put the boxes in the garage and shut the door. Then tried to limp along as if things were somehow going to be all right.

She
’s been gone for seven years now and I still try to deny it.


Ah, I don’t . . .” The gasp was slight, barely a whisper of a whisper, but I heard it. Damn the Ruby Slippers. If I refused, it would crush my aunt. My only living relative.

I gritted my teeth. “
I’ll pick it up when I grab Al, okay?”


Yes. Thank you, Kate.”

I pretended not to hear the tears in her voice and switched subjects. “
How did Bigfoot do today?”

I
’d cast another healing and sleeping spell before I’d left this morning. As well as an odor control one. The spell from the night before was still working, but I did not want to chance that one at all.

My entire olfactory system was still recovering.

“Great. I checked on him. Her. It. We really should find out what sex it is.”


I know. I just don’t feel comfortable pawing through all that fur. Especially while it’s asleep.”

Aunt Tabitha sighed. “
I know what you mean, but it just doesn’t seem right, calling it an it.”

That kind of ruffled the fur al
ong my neck too.


Once it wakes up, we can try to ask it.” I offered.


IT SPEAKS?”

Whoops. Guess I forgot to mention a few things during the chaos of last night
.


No. Actually, it didn’t talk to me. But it did seem to understand what I was saying.” I paused. “And it flipped me off.”


Bigfoot flipped you off?”

I tried. Really I did. I just couldn
’t help it. It started as a snicker then erupted into a full on belly laugh, complete with snorts. I could hear Aunt Tabs giggling like a maniac on her end of the phone.

There are just moments when words escape you. And laughter heals the wounds.

 

8. Not Again.

 

We arrived home just before five. Aunt Tabs had wrapped the Spell Book in a purple scarf as if she had known I wouldn’t be able to face it right away. She probably did know. She’s no dummy.

I let us into the apartment. Al trotted down the hall to the kitchen. I peeked in on Bigfoot. Sound asleep. Its breathing appeared to be more rhythmic and not as shallow. The odor was
manageable.

I set the book on my desk. Rubbed the silky material of the scarf. Fingered an edge.

I wasn’t ready.

I cast a concealing spell, left my office and joined Al in the kitchen. He sat on his furry butt in the middle of the kitchen floor, staring at
my counter tops.

He frowned up at me. “
Where’s dinner?”

I glanced at my counters too. Usually at this time in our evening they held the white Styrofoam boxes of our dinner.

I do not cook.

Even my cauldron spells have been known to cause allergic reaction
s in innocent bystanders. Sometimes permanent. That’s why I use my wand.

That and the fact Aunt Tabs had confiscated my cauldron after the last incident.

“Well, frog warts.” I wasn’t terribly surprised. I’d had a lot on my mind, but this could put a huge dent in my primping time for my date with Ash. “I left dinner at my office.”

Al
’s little tummy rumbled. He grunted, “Let’s go get it.”

Never mess with a true Italian mafia hit man and his food. Big Al takes his meatballs very seriously. I grabbed my purse a
nd we headed back out.

It takes about forty seconds longer to drive to my new office than it did my old one. Dominion is a VERY small town. Seven minutes later we arrived at
Love Required
.

I dispersed my protection spell and unlocked the door. The manicot
ti and spaghetti and meatballs were on the desk in the waiting room.

I
’d taken two steps toward them, when Al began to growl. I gathered my magic and sent it out, but I couldn’t perceive anything dangerous. No assassins waited in one of my offices.

I reach
ed into my purse and pulled out my wand. “What’s wrong?” I didn’t question his Chihuahua senses.


Blood. I smell blood.” Al tilted his nose higher into the air. He sniffed, deep angry snarls vibrating from his throat all the while. “It’s coming from your human office.” He started forward. “Stay behind me.”

I followed, my wand - where he couldn
’t see it and take manly offense - well above his head and at the ready.

I flicked on the light as we entered the office. Nothing appeared out of place. No smears of red anywhere I could see.

Al moved to the door in the corner leading to the alley. The hair on his neck ruffled, ears twitched and tail quivered. “Outside.”

He pla
nted his body in front of the seam to the door. “Open it slowly and stay back.”

I sent out more magic. Scanning the alleyway, behind trashcans and into every box and bottle in residence within five hundred feet.

I still couldn’t feel anything harmful. But I’ve learned the hard way there are some creatures that are immune to my magic.

I whispered the strongest protection spell I could think of, gripped my wand until my knuckles shone white, prepared to do the fastest Chihuahua snatch and grab I could manage,
and unlocked the back door.

Al had his nose in the crack the moment I eased open the door. I knew if I pulled too slowly he
’d squeeze his tiny frame through the opening and be outside - all alone - before I could stop him.

I flung the door open with such
force I had to stop it with my elbow so it wouldn’t slam shut on the rebound.


Al, Stop!” I screamed. He skittered to an immediate halt. Sadly, it had nothing to do with my non-existent dog training skills and more to do with the body lying on the concrete.


Don’t come out here until I’ve checked out the body.” Al looked up at me. “Okay?”


Sure, Al.” I didn’t mind. I could tell the body was already dead. The blue and white flag piercing the neck and the unnatural stiffness screamed “totally dead and not coming back” to me.

That and I needed a moment.

I gripped the edge of the door and concentrated on breathing while my mind whirled. Another dead body. At my back door. Again.

Why me?
may not have been the most sympathetic response, but I could not dredge up much else.

I am a nice witch. Really I am. I am also heartily sick of dead bodies appearing at my back door.

I’d thought the new office would be a refreshing start. New digs, fresh paint and no memories of murder scenes. Now I could kiss that plan goodbye.

Should I be a little more concerned? Horrified? Freaked out? At the very least curious? Maybe. But follow me here, I
’d just come off a similar experience a few weeks back. One in which I’d almost lost my own life. Not to mention my UDBF’s life.

Un-Dead
Best Friend. Morgan.

If we had died, I KNOW that psycho vampire assassin would have gone after my aunt and Big Al.

I still have the occasional nightmare.

My dead-body-discovery-emotional-response quotient had been all used up for the month.

“He’s dead. Human and dead.” Al sat down on the opposite side of the body. He looked at me over a shirt and jacket that looked vaguely familiar. “I’d say he was killed about four hours ago.”

I took his hit man word for it.

“I was here four hours ago. He couldn’t have been killed here.” I would have heard the scream for sure. Plus the blood pooled underneath the body seemed way too small for the large wound in the neck.

Someone had dumped a body at my back door. Again. Damn it all.

And a human one at that. Not good. There are laws when it comes to killing humans. Laws and concrete cells.

I shivered.

Did I have some sort of dead body attraction curse in addition to the other one? I . . . That shirt and jacket looked more and more familiar by the minute. I didn’t know anyone who dressed as if they had just stepped out of an Eddie Bauer magazine.

Oh shit.

I took a couple steps closer, leaned down and used my wand to unfurl the flag. Light from my office cut through the encroaching evening shadows and highlighted the words “Vote for Tom Crawford” in red lettering, center of the white stripe. Blue edged the top and bottom of the campaign advertisement.

The patriotic coloring struck me as phony as the senator had been until I realized the w
ords were not written in red. They were covered in the esteemed candidate’s blood. Crimson streaks ran in grisly streams from the words.

I made it to my trashcan seconds before I unloaded the contents of my stomach.

So much for my non-emotional response.

A
nd there went my healthy checkbook.

I
’m not proud of that response. It’s shallow. Uncaring. And does not speak well for me as a witch.

It is what it is.

“You okay, Doll?” His warm nose pressed into the skin near my elbow.

I gagged some more. After several
dry heaves, I was able to regain some control over my stomach and sat back on my heels. Al promptly climbed into my lap.


Ya need me to get rid of the body?” His bulging brown eyes widened in earnest concern as he offered his services. There may have been a hint of anticipation in them as well.

I
’m sure he relished the thought of indulging in the old days.

Reality completely set aside. As usual.

“Thanks, Al.” I scratched him between the ears. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

More like
add to my nightmares
. It didn’t matter, I still had to deal with reality.

I stiffened as the scope of the situation hit me. Turning to look through the doorway, I cursed. “
Shit. I’m going to have to get rid of another body.”

I know a set up when I see one. At least I
do now. If someone had gone through all the trouble of waiting until I’d left my office for the day before dumping the body of one of my clients, who knew what else they had done to try and frame me?

And given Al
’s estimated time of death, I’d more than likely been the last person to see the senator in person. Aside from the murderer, of course.


Like I said, Doll. I’m happy to get rid of it for ya.”

I grinned. Despite the circumstances, I couldn
’t help it. The senator had to be a good hundred and seventy pounds heavier than Big Al.

And he was now, quite literally, dead weight.

I swallowed a few times. Held my breath. When I was positive I wouldn’t need the services of my trashcan once more, I kissed his nose. “Thanks, Al. But I’m thinking we’re gonna need another set of hands with this one.”

He curled his upper lip. “
You gonna call Ass?”

I ignored his rude nickname for my boyfriend. One thing at a time here.

“No, I’m going to call Morgan. I think she’s free tonight. She’ll know what to do.” My UDBF is the best body disposer I know of.

I was not terribly comfortable with placing the call. Fortunately, I knew she
’d be thrilled. Death and vampires go hand in hand.

I
’ve had this sneaking suspicion for a while that Morgan might be slightly more bloodthirsty than the average vamp. However, since that’s come in handy more than once, I really can’t complain.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket. I
’de placed the phone in a bowl of rice last night to dry it out. Thankfully, it worked. Morgan is number one on my speed dial, Aunt Tabitha number two and Ash number three.

Other than the Italian restaurant, I don
’t have any other numbers in my address book.

She answered mid-ring. “
Hey Chicky.”


Hey Morgan. Are you free right now?”


Yeah, I am.” She laughed. “You know, the last time you asked me that question we had,” she paused. Probably considered how un-secure cell phones calls are, the latest government eavesdropping scandal, then continued, “a situation to handle.”


Funny you should mention that,” I said.


You’ve got to be kidding me.”


This is not something I can joke about anymore.” I looked at the body sprawled on the concrete slab, feet from my door. “More like never
ever
again.”


I’ll be right there.”

BOOK: Bigfoots Don't Do Mini Coopers (Kate Storm Book 1)
9.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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