Free What's a Witch to Do?: A Midnight Magic Mystery by Jennifer Harlow

“Maybe call a friend at the Richmond paper.”
    “Thanks. Oh, Tam, start telling people I just picked up my cousin A.J. from Boston. That’ll explain why I have a strange man living in my house this week.”
    Tamara falls back in the booth. “This is insane, Mona.”
    “Believe you me, I know it. I’m really just worried about the girls. I’d send them to Debbie’s or Sara’s, but for how long? And what if whoever it is kidnaps them or something? I guess I’ll just keep Adam around them until this is over, I don’t know.”
    “And you trust this guy?” Clay asks.
    “Enough. I mean he—”
    Cheyenne Bell, in all her glory, steps into the diner with her grungy boyfriend of the week, Bruce Nettles. She’s a pretty girl, full and lithe like her twin, but lacking Collins’s grace. Her hair is platinum blonde, her black shirt and skirt are both tight, and she always reeks of cigarettes. I can smell them from here. She kisses Bruce before stepping into the back of the house. “Guess I should start my spying now,” Tamara says as she turns back around. “If she’s upset her vampire boyfriend croaked, she ain’t showing it.”
    “She might not know, she might not care,” I counter. A second later, Cheyenne strolls back out, fastening her black and white checkered apron, which matches the floor. I catch her eyes, and she half smiles before returning into the back room. That was odd. “There is definitely something up with her.”
    “I’ll see what I can get out of her,” Tamara says as she stands. “Is there anything else I can do? Do you want Lonnie’s shotgun?”
    Clay and I scoot out as well. “I don’t need it,” I say, “but thanks.”
    We three musketeers move to the door and exchange hugs. Cheyenne eyes us as she pours Ned Larder’s coffee at the counter. I have the strongest urge to leap across it and shake her until she admits everything, but I don’t. I need more information before I confront her. It’s the Miss Marple way. Clay escorts me out and down the street toward the shop. I do love Southern manners.
    “There has to be more we can do,” he says.
    “Clay, I can’t think of anything.”
    “I really think you need to take an extended vacation until this blows over.”
    “I have two small children in school, a shop to run, a festival and wedding to put on, and a gaggle of preternaturals coming to town for a summit. Not to mention I can’t afford a vacation, and the problem will just be waiting for me when I return. I’m screwed.”
    “Well, I’ll start digging on Erica. Those vampires too. I’ll just say I’m doing a profile piece on her.”
    “I appreciate it,” I say, hugging him when we reach my shop.
    “If you need anything, call me day or night.”
    “Thanks.” I notice Billie watching through the window and pull away. “Gotta get back to work.” Clay nods, pecks my cheek, and walks down the sidewalk.
    When I step in Billie has her pierced eyebrow raised. “Does the doctor have competition?”
    “Funny,” I say, taking off my coat. “Can you come into the back for a sec?”
    “Am I in trouble?” she asks, following me.
    “Actually, I am. And I need your help.”
Close up shop
    On Sundays we close the shop at four, and in spite of the drama, Billie’s incessant questions, and schemes to sniff out the witch, I manage to get a decent amount of work done. I only have a backlog of two potions to finish tonight. The bigger task will be going through all my ledgers and computers to be on the lookout for combinations of ingredients that can be used in black magic. I’m pretty good if someone orders them all in one clump, but if there are separate orders over a period of time, I can miss it. Fun times ahead.
    I pull up to the house next to Greg’s Land Cruiser. Just as I do, Sheriff Louis Andrews crosses the street, waving at me. Wonderful. He’s in his mid-fifties, balding, and far too overweight to be a peace officer. Shirley must be a hell of a cook. All