Free A Potion to Die For: A Magic Potion Mystery by Heather Blake

pitchfork, I could reclaim my shop. Whether I could regain my shattered peace of mind was a question I didn’t want to face right now.
    Someone had broken into my shop and killed a man. I had to figure out who had done it and why, if only because I didn’t want to be fearful every time I walked into my shop. The shop my grandmother had built.
    “Let’s go,” I said, linking arms with her like we were Dorothy and the Scarecrow off to see the Wizard. Her being Dorothy, of course, and me being without a brain for even thinking about crossing the police line.
    “Woo!” Ainsley cried victoriously, smiling wide. “That’s my little coconspirator!”
    As we crept suspiciously down the alley, delicious smells floated out from the back door of Emmylou Pritcherd’s café, making my stomach rumble. The rear doors of her food truck that doubled as a catering van were open, and I stopped short when I saw her on all fours.
    “Emmylou?”
    “Don’t mind me none,” she said, sweeping a hand over the metal floor. All around her, trays of food were piled high, ready to be hauled to wedding receptions. “I lost one of my contact lenses. Brand-new one, too. It’s a monthly one, and I knew I should have switched to the daily kind after my last exam.” She glanced up, one eye closed. “Or maybe have that laser surgery. Do y’all know anyone who had it?”
    “One person,” Ainsley said. “He went blind from complications.”
    Emmylou’s jaw dropped.
    I frowned at Ainsley. She’d been joking, but Emmylou hadn’t caught the humorous tone in Ainsley’s voice.
    “Maybe I’ll keep with the contacts,” Emmylou said softly, continuing to run her hand along the floor.
    At least the truck was clean. Spotless—Emmylou was a bit of a neat freak. “Do you want some help?” I asked.
    “No, no,” she said. “Not enough room for all of us in here. Aha!” she cried, lifting a finger. “Got the little sucker. I’ll just go clean it off, and it’ll be good as new.” She came down the truck’s ramp. “Y’all hungry? Do you want to come inside for a bite?”
    Ainsley gave me a tug.
    “We can’t,” I said. “We have to break into my shop.”
    Emmylou smiled. “I’m sure there’s a story there. You’ll tell me later? I’ve got to get moving.”
    I agreed, and as soon as she walked through the back door of her restaurant, I looked at Ainsley and said, “Blind?”
    She laughed. “What? It was funny.”
    I smiled. “You’re touched in the head.”
    “I know. Come on.” As we headed toward my shop, she said, “We can’t really get arrested for going in, can we?”
    “I’m not sure. It is a crime scene.”
    “Carter will surely bail me out of jail if we get arrested. He can’t handle the Clingons on his own for more than a minute.”
    Not many could.
    “You’re probably on your own, though. Sorry,” she said matter-of-factly.
    Pastor Carter Debbs wasn’t all that fond of me and my magic and tended to keep his distance. I liked him only because of how much he loved Ainsley—and the fact that he loved her enough to let her choose her own friends.
    “Your mama would probably bail you out,” she said.
    An image of my mama snapping my picture as I clung to jail bars flashed in my head. “I’d probably call Caleb.”
    “Caleb does have prior experience springing you out of jail.”
    “I was cleared of all charges,” I said emphatically.
    She smiled so devilishly I thought she might have a pitchfork of her own hanging in the broom closet at her house. “I was just sayin’.”
    A crow cawed in the distance as I rolled my eyes and wiped my brow. The afternoon had turned steamy, and I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if storms rolled through later on.
    As we approached the back door of the shop, a strange tingling stopped me in my tracks.
    “What?” Ainsley said, looking up at me.
    “Something’s not right.”
    “Are your witchy senses acting up?”
    She’d started calling them witchy senses