Free A Murder Most Rosy: Supernatural Witch Cozy Mystery (Harper “Foxxy” Beck Series Book 3) by Raven Snow

angry voice asked from the door, causing me to jump again.
    The old, crusty janitor who'd had a crush on Kara grabbed the fabric away from me, shooing me out of the closet. "This is for personnel only."
    "Uh… sorry."
    And I ran off. It wasn't the most Harper-like return or exit, but I had a lot on my mind and only one woman who might have any answers.
    Since Cooper was going to be all caught up in school for the day, I headed over to my grandma's as soon as I was out of the school parking lot. My left foot tapped against the car and my finger picked at the steering wheel. Why did everyone seem to be driving so slowly?
    That's when I saw the flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. A second later, the siren on a lone police car started up as I pulled nervously to the side of the road. Sweating profusely, I schooled myself not to move, not to give Kosher a reason— and he would need one. It was broad daylight on a busy street. Even in Waresville, he couldn't just off me right here.
    Probably.
    "License and registration, ma'am."
    When I heard that achingly familiar voice, I sank back into the seat and heaved a sigh of relief. Wyatt leaned through my window, giving me a look that said, had I been anyone else, he'd have had me down at the station in the interrogation room.
    "Expecting someone else?" he asked mildly.
    "You can't just pull over anyone you please, you know— I could sue."
    He tipped an imaginary hat. "You just go right ahead, ma'am. I wouldn't want to infringe on your constitutional rights."
    I snorted at that. "Can I go now? I'm heading over to grandma's, and I'd rather not be late. You know how she is." It was a little fib in the grand scheme of things, since Gran didn't know I was coming over.
    "What a coincidence. I was headed over there to do some yard work myself."
    A hard rock formed in my stomach. "Oh?"
    "I'll escort you there."
    Luckily enough, I was able to part ways with Wyatt in the front yard as he went around back to get the lawn mower and start on the grass. After letting myself in, I eyed his progress through the blinds, keeping a watchful eye on his distance from the house.
    "I hope you didn't come here just to stare at your man— though I must admit, he is something to look at."
    I turned around, and Gran was right behind me in her red robe, bearing down on me like I was a randy teenager who'd just broken her window. But I'd been surprised too many times today to work up a good flinch to her sudden proximity.
    "I'm here about the gris-gris you got from my house. You did get it, right?"
    Scowling, she said, "You'd do well to remember I'm not a servant, girl."
    I guessed I'd just take that as a yes. "Was it meant for me?"
    She held up a clump of dark, short hair in her fist, and I instinctively reached for my head. "If this is yours, then I'd say so."
    I turned back towards the window, eying Wyatt again and feeling equal parts scared for myself and disgusted with myself. How did I manage to get on everybody's shit list? And in such a short amount of time, too.
    "Have you told him?" she asked, diving into my personal troubles in a completely out-of-character move. Then again, she was nosy.
    "No."
    "Ah."
    “Can you tell me who made the bag?”
    She shook her head, smiling. “Life doesn’t work that way. Be nice if it did, though.”
    I wasn’t in the mood for cryptic.
    Throwing open the door, I called, “Wyatt!”
    He came bounding up the lawn to the porch a second later, looking wary. “What?” He glanced around in the house for some kind of threat.
    “We’re leaving.”
    “We are?”
    “We are.”
    I dragged him toward his car and pushed him into the front seat. Then, I rushed over to my bug and prayed it would start. If I had to explain my plan to Wyatt before we got to the station, he’d never go for it. But once we were inside, he’d be too leery of making a scene to object much.
    People with manners were so easily manipulated. I was glad I’d never developed