Free Southern Bound - A Paranormal-Mystery (Max Porter Mysteries Book 1) by Stuart Jaffe Page B

back to her seat. "Okay, Mr. Porter, you might be having some luck tonight. Seems I'm a bit crunched for time. Everybody needs the help of a strong witch. Your friend, Drummond, has been put under a fairly simple binding curse. The markings used to keep him in one place have to be locked into a book or a scroll or something similar by copying the image on your floor into whatever item was chosen. To break the curse, you need to get ahold of the item, bring it to your office, and destroy it in the center of the floor marking. Understand?"
    "I got it. Except how do we know where this copy is?"
    "You just ask me."
    "Okay, I'm asking. What do I need and where is it?"
    "You go back to work now," Dr. Connor said with odd precision. "Please inform Mr. Drummond that when he is ready to talk with me, then I will gladly share with him the information you require."
    "Wait a second."
    "Good-bye, now," she said and placed her hand on his head.
    When Max opened his eyes, he was alone and in his car. His head throbbed. His muscles tightened as a rage built, but he clamped it down — no use getting angry just yet. He couldn't go back to the office, though. The idea of talking with Drummond ticked him off too much. He'd end up saying something he would no doubt regret. Instead, he drove home.
     

Chapter 11
    "You had me worried," Sandra said as she refilled Max's coffee mug. "I can't even think of a time you've been out so late before. Maybe in college. And when you got home, you just crashed."
    Max's head pounded as if he had drunk whiskey all night. The coffee perked him up a little, but his dry mouth and aching bones made him want to crawl back to bed.
    "You better get out of those clothes," Sandra said.
    "Sorry," he mumbled.
    "It's okay. It's just that with everything that's happened, I was really worried. I'm just glad you're okay."
    "I should've called," Max said as he slipped off his clothes and hunted for something clean to wear. "It all came down real quick. I'm sorry."
    "I said it was okay."
    "Thanks for the coffee."
    "No problem." She stopped at the bedroom door. Before she spoke, Max's heart quickened — it knew what she would ask next, and it feared the question. "What exactly were you doing last night?"
    He could hear the tenseness, the worry, the battle between the need to be comforted that all was well in their relationship and the terror that things might be as she suspected. A little assurance was all she sought. However, that required Max to tell her not to worry, that all was well — to lie. He couldn't tell her that he had been to see a witch. Would she even believe him? And offering anything simply to acknowledge that he wasn't having an affair would bring up further questions.
    "Just work," he said, hearing his shallow lie.
    "Oh," she said, that one utterance carrying far more disturbing depths.
    "I have to go," he said, rushing downstairs, ignoring the pain in his body, and wishing he could do something to protect Sandra from her false belief.
    By the time he reached his office, his horrible mood soured more. Taylor did his best to make matters worse. He offered an exuberant greeting and a cup of coffee. The coffee smelled delicious but Max had no intention of giving the boy any form of encouragement. He took the coffee, grunted, and plopped down at his desk. Before he could finish the first, sweet sip, Drummond appeared — cranky, as usual.
    "Oh, the King finally decides to show up," Drummond said, kicking the furniture and acting as if he were destroying it instead have passing right through. "I cannot believe you care so little that you would keep me stuck here all night and tortured by this bastard kid all morning. I swear I've got it in me not to help you at all. Then where'd you be? Huh? You'd be a dead man. Your wife, too."
    Max put the coffee cup down too hard and Taylor glanced up from paper sorting on the floor. "Everything okay, sir?"
    "Fine," Max said.
    "Not fine," Drummond went on. "Not fine, not one