The Old Witcheroo (10 page)

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Authors: Dakota Cassidy

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Old Witcheroo
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“I’m tellin’ ya, Boss. Your powers are comin’ back. Little by little. Pretty soon you won’t even need Win as an intermediary. No slight intended, mate.”

“None taken, chap,” Win assured him.

I didn’t want to think about that time. I never wanted Win to feel like he wasn’t useful and important to me as I grew into Madam Zoltar’s shoes. He would always be one of the bigger parts of my life.

But I couldn’t talk about the deepest parts of my heart with Win at this point. He had a girlfriend he was torn between mourning and despising, and we would always be on two different planes anyway—no matter how much he tried to convince me he was going to find a way to come back.

There wasn’t much to talk about once you brought his celestial state into the picture. So I focused on what we
did
have, a really amazing connection, a playful affection for one another and a deepening friendship, and set all the other whirring, tangled emotions I felt for him aside.

“Okay, time to clean up. Bel, I’ll get the rug, you get the Febreze. Smells like we roasted a tire in here. Oh, and give Miss Watson a call later, would you, please? Just to check and be sure she’s all right. She had quite a scare. I’m sure she’s shaken up.”

“That sourpuss doesn’t deserve a follow-up phone call,” Bel complained. “She wasn’t ever going to pay you, Boss.”

“Nope, she doesn’t and she wasn’t. She’s an ornery one to be sure, but we’ll check on her anyway because that’s what we do. Who we are. She’s not the first person to outwardly share her skepticism. I think if nothing else, today proved to her I’m not such a joke after all. She can do with that what she likes.”

Bel buzzed upward toward the ceiling, darting in circles. “Fine, fine, fine. Be the bigger person. Turn the other cheek and all that good witch nonsense. I’ll call her later today and be sure she hasn’t flipped her wig.”

I grinned at him despite my throbbing nose. “You’re a good egg, Bel. Couldn’t do this without you. Now, time to handle this, and then we go to Sophia’s.”

As I assessed the store’s floor, littered in broken candleholders and melted wax and the mess of the bamboo rug in partial ashes, my phone rang. Thankfully, it had survived my crash landing. I rooted in the pocket of my caftan and scrolled to open it.

The number was unfamiliar, so I hesitated for a moment and let it go to voice mail. That was when I received a text.


Out back. Dana.”

I rushed to the back door, pushing it open with a grunt to find Officer Nelson, his face red from this unmerciful heat, his eyes dull. “Dana! Why didn’t you come in the front door?” I asked, pulling him inside out of the bright-hot sun.

“Didn’t want anyone to see me,” he muttered listlessly.

I pointed to the armchair in the back room, the one we’d bought so I could sit and read and eat lunch between clients. “Okay, you sit. If it’s at all possible, you look worse than last night. Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

“Why do you have a corn dog on your face?”

“I’m on a diet. I thought if I just smelled them, it would squash my craving.”

Nothing.

Officer Nelson didn’t even smirk at my joke, but then his eyes went wide. “Why does it smell like smoke in here? And holy cow! What happened to your nose, Stevie? Are you okay?” He glanced down at me, his eyes roaming over my face as I pressed the wrapped corn dog closer to my nose.

I decided to simply be honest. Not that Officer Nelson was buying what I was selling anyway. He’d made it very clear at my housewarming party he thought I was full of horse pucky when I talked about being a medium.

“Just my usual Monday-morning wrestling date with an overzealous ghost; and I’m fine.”

His shoulders, usually so rigid and tense sagged. He looked plum wilted and it was breaking my heart. “A ghost, huh?”

“Yes. And knock it off, your skepticism is showing.”

He almost smiled, but then it was as though he remembered he shouldn’t smile, or that maybe he’d never feel like smiling again. “Sorry. I just don’t buy it. No offense intended.”

Planting a hand on my hip, I reassured him. “None taken. Now, where have you been all night? Did you go home?” I asked that question with my fingers crossed that he hadn’t.

“Spent the night in my truck over behind the food truck court. Had some clothes in there, washed up at a gas station. No way I was going home after yesterday. I just couldn’t face my empty apartment without… And then I saw them searching…but nobody called or tried to haul me in, so…I just had to get away,” he said finally.

I blew out a breath. “So you did see them?”

Running his hand over his stubble-littered jaw, he nodded. “Yep, crawling all over my place like ants on an anthill. They’re just doing their jobs, Stevie. I’m sure they had a warrant, that it wasn’t illegal. And I knew it was coming.”

But did he know what they’d found at his house? I remained undecided about whether I should bring it up. It hadn’t been in the papers or the local news—not yet, anyway. They weren’t arresting him at this point, leading me to believe they were holding out as long as necessary because he was a brother in blue. So I held on to a slim hope the gun match Baby-Face mentioned was an honest newb mistake.

“Honesty, Dove. You must be honest with him if you hope to help. You need the full story,” Win nudged me.

Win was right, even if the honesty meant I’d upset him far worse than he already was. I set the corn dog on the counter and hoped for the best.

Kneeling down in front of him, I took both his hands in mine and looked up into his tortured eyes. “Dana? Have you heard what they found at your house?”

His head snapped up, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “What did they find?”

I licked my dry lips and winced. “A gun. A gun that I overheard an officer say was a match to the type of gun used to kill Sophia.”

“And you still let me in the back door?” he croaked, his face no longer red but the palest of pale.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course I did. Sorry, but I just can’t get with Officer By The Book killing anyone—or that an officer as smart as you would leave the smoking gun just lying around for someone to find. It’s ludicrous, and if your buddies down at the station don’t think so, too, I’m going to kick them in their stupid cans.”

His half-smile was wry. “I appreciate you having my back, but they’re just doing their jobs, Stevie. Sometimes being an officer of the law forces you to choose sides. If I had to choose between collecting a paycheck because I like eating, or going along for the ride in an investigation until I knew differently, I’d go along for the ride. It’s not personal—it’s the law.”

Ah. There was my stalwart police officer—always playing by the rules, even when the rules weren’t in his favor. “Well, you’re a far better person than me. I want to shake every last one of them until their good sense returns. Anyway, forget about that. Explain the gun.”

“Do you know where they found it?”

I shook my head and rose, my face one big throbbing mass of flesh. “Nope. Officer Gorton had it in a Ziploc bag, and I don’t have any details about it because I was eavesdropping. Did you have a gun in your house?”

“Yes. I have a license to carry. It’s my personal gun and I keep it in a safe.”

“So how did they get into the safe, Dana? Don’t you have a password or a code or whatever you have to use to get into the safe?”

His face darkened now. “Yep. I sure do. But I didn’t give that to the guys. I
did
give them permission to search my place after they questioned me and just before I left the station. I basically dared them to. So I’ll have to assume they broke into it.”

I rolled my eyes in frustration. “Are you nuts?”

He lifted his square jaw at the idea he was anything less than honorable. “I have nothing to hide. Or I
thought
I had nothing to hide.”

“Okay, forget about that for now. Is your gun a 9mm?” I held my breath.

“It is,” he said, eerily quiet and freakishly calmer than one would expect.

“Hellfire,” I swore. If the gun was a plant, the registration number would prove as much. That kept my hope alive. “Okay, so let’s go over everything that happened the night Sophia was…” Gosh, I still couldn’t say the word. Clearing my throat, I squared my shoulders. “Tell me everything that happened the night you asked Sophia to marry you. I want to hear it word for word. I want to know if she gave you a reason for her answer. Where she came from. Why she moved to Eb Falls, all of it. So get comfortable.”

Dana hunkered down in the deep cushions of my sage-green armchair, his eyes clearing. “Ask me anything.”

“First up, because you need to eat something, can I interest you in a corn dog?”

* * * *

Pinching my temples, I wanted to be sure I was hearing everything right. So I asked again. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You’d been moving forward in the relationship with talk of the future and Sophia went along with it, right? No hesitations?”

Dana rubbed a hand over his chin. “Yes. That’s exactly right. She used the pronoun ‘we’ often when we talked about upcoming holidays and all sorts of things, as did I.”

“Did you have any arguments or big issues that you still needed to work out? You know, like, not something that would make the two of you break up, but something that might’ve stalled her, should marriage become a topic? Something you needed to work out first? Like maybe she was liberal and you’re—big surprise—conservative?” I teased. “Something big that would be a sticking point, should you tie your finances and worlds up with each other in the legal sense?”

Dana made a face at me, gripping the arms of the chair. “What makes you say I’m a conservative?”

I continued to pace, flapping a hand at him. “I don’t talk politics with friends. It’s just an example. Answer the question.”

“No. We hadn’t specifically addressed how many children we wanted or anything, but we definitely both wanted children. That type of thing. No glaring red flags, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Nothing anyone ever overheard? A lovers’ tiff, maybe? Not a big deal to you, but maybe a big deal to someone eavesdropping if taken out of context?”

“You mean someone like you, Miss Cartwright?” Officer Nelson asked, sitting upright, his spine no longer melting into the chair.

I threw my head back and barked a laugh—which hurt and made me dizzy, by the by. “I mean someone
exactly
like me. Except I wouldn’t gossip about it. I just don’t want to question people and find out you forgot to tell me something that could end up being important.”

“Well done,” he complimented. “But no. We never had any arguments at all. We just…worked.” Dana swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat.

I reached down and squeezed his hand, his fingers clammy and cold despite the heat. “Yeah. I know. So here comes a sensitive question. Had she dated anyone before you?”

“No. We’ve been dating almost as long as she’s been here.”

“Okay, another sensitive question. Were you dating anyone else besides Sophia?”

He shook his head with a firm negative. “No. Hadn’t dated in over a year before meeting her.”

“What about Eleanor Brown?” It occurred to me that I was grasping at straws, but maybe she was the kind of person who acted out in violent ways. She sure didn’t look like a killer, but one never knew, and she was hot for Dana.

His eyes went wide and filled with shock. “You mean the waitress at the Eb Falls Diner? What about her?”

“Aw, c’mon, Dana. You must know she has a secret crush on you. Did you ever date her, or imply you might
want
to date her? Flirt with her, maybe?”

“I know no such thing. You’re kidding, right?”

Goddess, men were blind. “I’m not kidding. Not even a little, and now I’ve let the cat out of the bag. Out of respect for her pride, speak a word of what I just told you and I’ll run over your crisp, immaculate police uniforms in a puddle of mud. Got it?”

He almost laughed, but then he sobered. “I had no idea…”

“That’s why it’s a
secret
crush, Clueless. Okay, forget Eleanor for the moment. Let’s talk about the night of your date. You packed a picnic dinner, picked her up, drove to the beach, hopped in the boat, had some dinner and wine and proposed, correct?”

“Yes. That’s everything that happened until she said no to my proposal.”

“Obviously, you were hurt. Did you express that?”

Dana didn’t appear at all uncomfortable. He stared me directly in the eye. “Sure I did, Stevie. I just couldn’t figure it out. We’re…we
were
perfect for each other. But when she asked me to give her some time before she talked about something very clearly personal to her, I backed off. We didn’t have a big argument or scream and yell at each other. But I could see something was troubling her. Something big. I know Sophia, and whatever it was, I know she would have told me if she could. She asked for time and I gave it to her.”

“So you left each other on a peaceful note? Still together as a couple, per se?”

He nodded his head vehemently. “Yes! We didn’t break up. I took her to her apartment, walked her to her door, gave her a kiss good night and went home to lick my wounds privately. I wanted her to feel comfortable about whatever she had to tell me. I didn’t want to let her see how upset I was, and even passively pressure her to tell me out of guilt. I wanted it to be organic and without fear.”

“The salt of the bloody Earth, I tell you, Dove. This man is a rarity among men,” Win commented.

I said the same as I patted his hand and gave him a sassy wink. “You’re a good guy, Officer Nelson. I take back almost everything I ever said about you.”

Dana cocked his head, his face less pale, his cheeks seeing some of their color return. “What did you say about me?”

“That’s between me and the universe,” I joked. “So, did you speak to one another at all between when you dropped her off and when she was found?”

He showed me his phone and the text he’d sent to her the morning of the day I’d found her. “I texted her a ‘good morning’ the way I always did. She didn’t answer, which led me to believe she was busy with people at the library. I did start to worry around lunchtime, but still chalked it up to a busy Monday morning with her job. Mondays were always rough with returns and the Senior Book Club meetings.”

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