Free If the Broom Fits by Liz Schulte

here?”
    He drew a deep breath. “You’re a very strange person. Has anyone ever told you that?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “Answer the question.”
    â€œWhich one?” he asked.
    Katrina and I had backed him almost to the door. “Why are you here?”
    â€œI told you, I want to be kept in the loop on anything you find. I had the impression our last conversation didn’t end on a good note so—”
    â€œWe haven’t found anything,” I said. “I’ll let you know if I find anything worthwhile.”
    He leaned in close. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “First and foremost, I’m a journalist. In my profession, yes even in a town like this, you develop a pretty good bullshit meter. Like I know you meant it when you said I wouldn’t recognize real magic and I know you mean it when you say you aren’t swindling people. But I also know you are lying to me now. You’ve found something. What is it?”
    â€œThe marks on the neck.”
    He nodded. “I noticed those too.”
    I held up my hands. “That’s it. That’s all I have to go on right now.”
    His eyes narrowed. “But that isn’t exactly the truth either, is it? You have some sort of plan. I want in.”
    I huffed.
    â€œIt’s annoying, isn’t it?” Katrina said. “You used to do this to us all the time.”
    I felt a momentary grief for what I used to have. I used to be a human lie detector. I could sense the truth as easily as a vampire could hear a pulse. But now it was gone. One thing about nonbelievers was that when you wanted them to go, all you had to do is talk about what they deemed impossible. “It’s magic and I know how you feel about magic.”
    He glanced over our shoulders toward the chaos, doubt lining his face. “Try me.”
    Katrina looked at me and I shrugged. He didn’t mean it. Besides, I wasn’t actually going to expose us all.
    â€œIf we can find something that maybe the killer and the victim both touched, there’s a spell that we could do that might help us track the energy of the items,” Katrina said slowly, looking uncomfortable about sharing this with a human reporter.
    â€œEnergy of the item,” Donavan echoed. “And what would that do?”
    â€œMake it easier to find other victims. If this is the same killer, the mark means something. It might mean these two aren’t the first. A signature might not show up right away.”
    â€œAnd what are you basing that on?”
    â€œI don’t know. About a million horror movies? Serial killer documentaries at Halloween. Countless fiction book. Absolutely nothing substantial. What should I be basing it on?”
    He smiled. “Let’s say, for a moment, that I’m willing to go with you on this. What exactly do you need?”
    â€œIt depends what’s still there. Something both people would have touched.”
    He nodded. “Well, the paper has officially been canceled for tomorrow. The snow doesn’t look like it’s going to let up until late tonight if you can believe forecasts. My day is suddenly wide open. Emaleigh’s house may not have what you’re looking for—”
    â€œBut Rhonda’s would.”
    He tilted his head. “It’s not that far from here. Interested in a little breaking and entering?”
    I glanced at Katrina.
    â€œWill it end up in the newspaper?” she asked.
    â€œI’m not likely to tell on myself,” he said. “Look, I don’t know what to think about this magical energy crap, but at this point you two are the only other people in all of New Haven interested in saving an innocent man. I’ll take whatever help you can give me.”
    I nodded. “It couldn’t hurt.”
    Kat raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me. Someone has to be here to bail you two out. Also any help we give better stay