Free A Witch's Tale by Maralee Lowder Page B

reaching for the fireplace poker when he heard two words that caused him to drop it back on its holder. Those two w ords were “Sheriff’s Department ” .
    He wasn’t sure which would have been worse news for Cassie, an unruly vigilante mob from town or Sheriff Whitaker’s boys. Either one meant trouble.
    He threw the bolt and opened the door just as two burly deputies with a battering ram were stepping back to gain the speed necessary to break the door down.
    “Sheriff’s Department!” a couple of the men yelled as a dozen more forced their way into the room. Before Mac knew what was happening, he found himself on the floor, with his wrists roughly handcuffed.
    “Hey! What’s going on?”
    “If you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut, buddy,” one of the uniformed deputies advised him none too gently. “You already got yourself in more trouble than the law allows.”
    Two of the officers grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him, then shoved him down on the couch. He watched helplessly as several of the men rushed into Cassie’s bedroom.
    He fought off a surge of rage at the thought of what their eyes must now be feasting on. He prayed that she had had enough time to have at least slipped on a robe.
    “Looks like you two were having a little party,” one of the two men left to guard him said.
    Mac bit back his anger at the suggestive tone in the man’s voice.
    “I can’t say as I blame you, buddy. With her looks, any man would be only too willing to try his luck , even if she is a witch. But you picked yourself the wrong squeeze this time. This one’s a black widow spider and you’re lucky you’re still alive.”
    “Maybe not so lucky. He looks more like an accomplice than a victim to me,” his partner observed. “My bet is the Sarge takes him in too.”
    Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion at the bedroom door as eight deputies tried to exit at the same time, shoving a handcuffed Cassie before them.
    Mac’s first thought was relief that she had been able to slip on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt before the men had invaded her privacy. But that thought was quickly followed by the realization that a great deal more was at stake than Cassie’s modesty.
    What the hell was happening?
    “Cassandra Adams, I’ve got a warrant here for your arrest. I also have a warrant to search your premises. Do you understand?”
    Her only response was an expression of total confusion. Mac’s stomach clenched as he gazed into her eyes, the pupils wide with shock.
    Not bothering to wait for her answer, the men set about their task of searching every square inch of Cassie’s home. She and Mac sat side-by- side on the living room sofa as her privacy was savagely destroyed.
    “I’m afraid you’re a fallen man,” she said at last, a wry tone to her voice. “It wouldn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out what happened here last night.” She nodded at the clothes that still lay where they had been tossed. “The town gossips will have a field day with this.”
    “The hell with them. Why should I care what a bunch of idiots have to say? It’s not gossip I’m worried about. There’s something a lot more serious going on here than a little gossip.
    “I think I got something here, Sarge ,” one of the men called from Cassie’s bedroom.
    Mac turned to Cassie, his brow tightening into a scowl when he saw the book in the officer’s hand.
    “What’s that - her diary?” the sergeant asked as he reached out for the book.
    “You’ll have to ask the lady. It’s written in some sort of hieroglyphics or something.”
    “Would you like to tell me exactly what this book is?” T he sergeant held the book out to Cassie.
    “She’s not telling you anything until you tell u s what she’s being arrested for, a nd I don’t remember hear ing anyone reading her Mirandas either.”
    “Oh, we’ll get to all that, buddy. Believe me, we’re going to do this thing all nice and legal. And while I’m