Free Spell of Summoning by Anna Abner Page B

coming in again this week. Take care of everything for me.” It felt so good saying that aloud. A little scary, but good.
    “Sure thing, Boss.”
    Rebecca wandered across the lot as Holden walked Buster to a grassy median near the Jeep.
    Someone wanted to hurt her. Maybe someone she knew. Charley McGovern scowled in her mind’s eye. Was she capable of this? A week ago she’d have said no. But now… Everyone she knew or worked with was a potential mortal enemy.
    Holden stowed their things in the back of the Jeep.
    “I have a suspect,” she admitted.

Chapter Six
    Holden pulled back the tarp in the rear of his Jeep and found a duffel bag stuffed with stun guns and Tasers. Cole had come through, after all. Holden replaced the tarp and tucked Rebecca’s electronic tablet and file folder between the bulky mass and the tailgate.
    He texted Cole, “Thanks again.”
    Holden glanced at Rebecca and realized she hadn’t told him her suspect yet.
    “Who?” he repeated.
    “I won’t say until you tell me exactly what you plan to do.”
    Rebecca didn’t trust him. Well, that was fair. He wouldn’t trust him either.
    “There might be a spell. Or a test or something.” Holden started the Jeep. “So, you keep the name to yourself. That’s fine. But the next time I ask you, you’re going to tell me.”
    His cell beeped. Cole’s text read, “You owe me. Even the crazies looked at me funny when I left the store.”
    It was a forty-five-minute drive to downtown Springfield from Rebecca’s office. They took a left and found the Happy Trails Child Care Center situated across from the Piggly Wiggly and sharing a strip mall with a Bojangles’ chicken and biscuits joint.
    Holden rechecked his notes. He’d never met a witch, but he hadn’t expected her to work here. If she had magic, why did she have to work at all?
    “This is where your big, fancy witch hangs out?” Rebecca scoffed. “Our savior changes diapers and wipes spit-up for a living?”
    He didn’t admit he was thinking the same thing. Instead, he tied Buster to the steering wheel, squared his shoulders, and strode for the front door. It was heavy-duty metal and locked.
    He rang the buzzer. “Holden Clark to see Dani Ferraro.”
    The door clicked open, and they entered a foyer with a large, curved reception desk at the opposite end. It smelled like puke and hand sanitizer, and sounded like chaos incarnate.
    “Dani?” he asked, approaching the woman at the desk.
    She shook her head. “She’s on her way.”
    A door opened, bringing with it a cacophony of children’s voices, babies’ cries, and some happy-happy sing-along music. A woman with long, wild, black hair appeared. Directly behind her the ghost of a little black girl with bright, friendly eyes watched him. But witches couldn’t see or interact with spirits. The girl was here for someone else.
    The door shut, dampening the noise and cutting them off from the spirit.
    In his mind, Holden had built Dani into some fantasy movie stereotype with white eyes and fire shooting from her fingertips. Instead, she was a woman in her twenties. About five feet five inches tall, a little shorter than Rebecca. She’d have fantastic hair if she styled it. But there was absolutely nothing remarkable about her at all. In fact, Rebecca easily trumped her in a pretty pink dress and black coat, her blonde hair soft and curled around her shoulders.
    Dani froze at the sight of Rebecca and her demon companion and then recovered. “Sarah,” she said to the receptionist, “I’m taking a five. Georgie’s covering for me in room four.”
    “Let’s walk.” Dani pushed through the security door and led them out into the warm, heavy air. She headed for the Bojangles’ but turned on them about halfway across the lot and narrowed her dark eyes at Rebecca.
    “You could have knocked me over with a feather,” she said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.” She glanced briefly at him, and he understood her surprise. The