Three Witches and a Killer: Wicked Western Witches Book 1 (3 page)

Instantly, a smile brightened his hardnosed lawyer face. “Good! That should help soothe your mother’s nerves.”

Mom was completely against the idea of me opening my own business, but that was only because she was old-fashioned. Mom was convinced a woman’s place was in the home. Sometimes I thought she would have been a lot happier if I’d just stayed with my husband and started having babies.

My sister was good at getting Mom’s approval, but unlike Day, I had no desire to be a soccer mom. If and when I had children, they’d probably be doing their best to keep me out of trouble.

“So who is your first client?” Dad asked, clasping his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his high back leather chair.

Leather chairs were one of the perks of being the county prosecutor.

“This isn’t my first job,” I reminded him. “Don’t forget the cat and the Crossroads Funeral Home.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Finding the lost cat doesn’t even count, and ghost hunting at a mortuary is not exactly something to add to your resume,” he informed me for the second time in the same day.

“Hey, that mortuary job was actually quite difficult. I don’t think you have any idea what it is like to have a demon possess your partner and turn him into a crazed serial killer.”

Dad shrugged. “If that actually happened, then you and Pax more or less asked for it.”

It was no use. Dad would never understand. You would think that being born into an ancient line of witches would have given him more of an open mind, and it might have if he hadn’t turned his back on his heritage years ago.

It was best to change the subject. “I’m not sure who the client is. They want to remain anonymous, but they did give me a $2,000 advance.”

“Wow! That’s a good start. What is it they want you to do, stalk the mayor?”

“Nothing quite that crazy but they do want me to catch a killer. Whoever this anonymous client is, they believe that Canton Petrova’s death was no accident. In fact, they think this is just the beginning and that all the heads of the CO5 will be targeted,” I explained.

Dad frowned and shook his head. “We have no proof that Canton’s death was anything but an accident.”

“Then why haven’t the police closed the case yet?”

Sighing, he leaned further back until I was sure the chair would fall.

“You know I cannot comment on an ongoing investigation,” he told me.

Damn! I hated it when he used that excuse to keep me in the dark. I was going to have to do some pushing.

“Buck can’t seriously believe that a crippled man made his way out to the pool without some help?”

Sheriff Hascall might have looked and acted like a goody two-shoes, but he wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot.

“Can you at least tell me if they have any suspects? You know, Aunt Selena could be a target if we do have an assassin targeting the CO5 families.”

“I’m sure your Aunt Selena can take care of herself well enough. What I think is that you should pass on this job. It could get dangerous.”

“Ah ha! So the police do suspect more than you’re letting on.” I exclaimed, folding my arms in front of my chest.

“You need to listen to me, Sadie. If this is witch business, you need to steer clear of it. Go home and get a change of clothes. Looking like that, you’re going to be lucky if the town drunk hires you to help find his lost bottle of whiskey.”

Now I was irritated. “Hmm, that makes a lot of sense. I open a detective agency in a town with a high witch population, but I am not supposed to get involved with witch business. Who will I work for then?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

Dad threw his hands in the air. “I’m only concerned about your safety.”

It was just like Dad to change the subject before I was finished discussing it. Somehow, we’d gone from talking about the Petrova case to my safety.

Pushing him now wouldn’t do me a lot of good, except for getting me thrown out of his office. These days, he couldn’t ground me so he opted for more embarrassing methods of punishment.

“Just so you know, I am going to take this job,” I told him, spinning on my heels.

“Is everything okay?” Sandy asked as I passed her desk. The tone of her voice made it evident that she hoped everything
wasn’t
okay.

“Of course.” I smiled and then added, “Sandy, you really might want to talk to your hairdresser about the bleach she’s using. Your hair is getting a green tinge to it.”

The comment was totally bitchy and uncalled for, but the look of absolute horror that entered her eyes made it totally worth the bitch label.

Sandy wasn’t just jealous of Fredrick Costello’s wife, but his daughters too, including me. The bad vibes that came off that woman had a way of bringing out the wicked witch in me.

Chapter Three

As soon as I stepped outside and into the fresh morning air, I felt a ton better. Like most mornings, the air was filled with the heady scent of sage and pine. There was something about the golden light of the morning sun and fresh country air that could settle me right down, at least most of the time.

Now, if only my car wasn’t parked on the other side of the square.

With Dad not giving up any information, I didn’t have a lot of choice but to dig right in. The best way to do that was to go to the crime scene and the Petrova family.

None of the CO5 families were close. Actually, they didn’t even get along too well. Like most people in town, I’d seen the other families around, but hadn’t bothered to get acquainted with them.

The families were secretive, especially when it came to the other CO5 families. Talking my way into Draven Court wasn’t going to be easy, though the fact that my dad and aunts were at odds might help a little.

From the day my father swore off anything to do with witchcraft and the CO5, he and my aunts had been battling. It also happened to be the same day he’d come home from his military tour with a new wife, also known as my mother.

Born and bred in the normal world of Montgomery Alabama, Sarah Benson hadn’t had a clue what life was really like in Shadow Crossing, though that changed quickly enough.

Growing up, all talk of witches and magic was a forbidden subject in our house. Of course, that hadn’t detoured me one tiny bit. Every chance I got, I was visiting the aunts and learning everything I could.

No one really understood why Fredrick Costello turned his back on his family and the gifts he was born with, but I think I knew. It was no coincidence that he’d done this on the day he brought my mother home.

No Costello spouse had ever lived long enough to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary. If you were marrying a Costello, your wedding day kiss was the kiss of death. Dad wasn’t about to take any chance with my mother’s life, which had probably been a good thing for Day and me.

Problem was, they’d been married almost thirty years and Mom was the same feisty southern girl she’d always been.

Based on this new evidence, my aunts concluded that the curse was only on the Costello women.

I had to agree. I’d been married less than two years before my husband bit the big one, although I wasn’t sure it really counted since we were technically divorced when he was zombified.

There was rarely any vehicle traffic in the square, aside from the occasional delivery driver. I liked it that way. Living in Reno had given me a whole new appreciation for my small hometown.

Taking the stone walkway through the town square, I contemplated the problem of approaching the Petrova family.

I’d just passed the massive white gazebo that sat in the middle of the square when I noticed some people near the hanging tree.

I was pretty darn sure they hadn’t been there when I’d walked through the square on my way to the public works building.

These weren’t just people. They looked like pilgrim ghosts.

Ghosts weren’t out of the question. It sure wouldn’t be the first time I’d come across a ghost or other odd creature in Shadow Crossing.

Stopping abruptly, I blinked several times in an attempt to clear my vision. They were still there, and I’ll be damned if they didn’t look just as real as the hanging tree.

There were two women and a man. The man looked to be in his sixties; the women a decade or so younger. Both the women were wearing bonnets and old-fashioned flower print dresses. The man was in a black suit and had a matching black derby on his head.

The group appeared to be nailing something to the hanging tree.

As I approached, the man turned from his task to stare at me. The deep wrinkles on his face did nothing to soften the chill in his icy blue eyes.

Raising his arm, he pointed a bony finger at me. “There’s one of them!”

The women gasped in union. It was so perfect; I was convinced they’d been practicing just for the occasion.

“Repent Witch! The end is near!” The man bellowed.

That’s when I noticed the sign he’d posted on the tree. It was one of those End of Days signs that crazy people in big cities liked to shove in your face.

“You are destroying public property,” I told him, ignoring his warning of doom.

“You will burn in the fiery Pit! Your only hope of salvation is death and acceptance of the New Light!” He went on as if I hadn’t said a word.

He’d just threatened my soul!

No way was that acceptable. “Okay, I’ve had enough. I’m calling the police. No one threatens my soul and gets away with it.”

Snatching my phone from where I’d tucked it just inside my bra, I dialed Buck’s number.

“Sheriff Hascall,” he answered.

“Buck, you might want to get over to the hanging tree. There’s some religious nut nailing stuff to the tree, and he even threatened my soul.”

“I’m waiting for a Coney Dog at the Caldron. I’ll be there quick as I can.”

“Okay, hurry. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop them from ruining more public property, not without hurting them anyway.”

“Just don’t do anything,” he said.

“What do you mean
don’t do anything
… as in what?” I asked.

“You heard me, Sadie. Stay calm.”

Buck sure was worried. Suddenly, I wondered if he’d found out about the zombie I was hiding in my closet.

Ending the call, I turned to the preacher, or whatever he was. “You know, it’s quite rude to come into someone’s town and start preaching to them.”

His arm sprang at me faster than a rattler. Before I had a chance to defend myself, he smacked me in the forehead with two fingers. “That’s how fast the devil strikes. Your witch’s soul belongs to him!”

Boiling hot blood rushed to my cheeks. Now I wished I’d brought along some geek dust to blow in his face. I would have loved to see him jumping around like a chicken with his head cut off.

Decking him would have to be good enough. Clenching my hand into a fist, I reared back and prepared to box his ears, but all of the sudden I couldn’t throw a punch. Someone had a death grip on my wrist.

Looking over my shoulder, I found myself face to face with a sheriff’s badge. “I told you to hold tight,” Buck said.

“He hit me!” I said, still trying to pull loose from his grasp. I was hell bent on knocking that preacher for a loop.

“Now Sadie, you don’t want to hit some old man. I know you better than that,” Buck said, adding a calming note to his voice.

It worked every time.

Drawing in a deep breath, I relaxed. Only then did he let go of my wrist.

Buck was nearly a foot taller than me but that wasn’t too impressive, considering I was only a couple inches over five feet. His dark eyes always seemed to be laughing, but in a good-natured way. Just like Dad, his dark hair was never out of place. Of course, even if he’d had bed head, it wouldn’t be noticeable beneath his ten-gallon white cowboy hat.

I’d known Buck all my life. He was a good guy. In school, he’d always been the one to step between two people fighting. It was no wonder he’d been elected Sheriff.

Buck’s integrity and willingness to stand up for what’s right made him popular in Shadow Crossing. It also helped that he filled out his tan sheriff’s uniform pretty darn well. At least that helped with the ladies.

Now that I was calm, Buck took out a pen and pad of paper. “So tell me what happened.”

“Like I said, he hit me. Look here!” I pointed to my forehead. “There’s probably still a mark.”

Buck leaned down to get a better look at my head. “Well I’ll be, there sure is.”

When Buck turned back to the preacher, he had a stern expression on his face. Now he was all sheriff.

“What’s your name, sir?” he asked.

The preacher stared at him with the same cold glare he’d given me. I half expected him to attack Buck too, but to my surprise, he turned to the women.

“What do you think, Martha … Allison? Is he one of them?”

The two women shook their heads.

The preached nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking.

“I need your name,” Buck told him again.

“Well, Sheriff, my name is Rod Gamble. I am a reverend of the Church of the New Light.”

“Did you hit Miss Sadie?” Buck asked the preacher.

“Not really.” He shook his head. “I was just demonstrating how fast the devil could take a soul. She’s a witch; therefore her soul is already lost. You are in danger just standing so close to her.”

Buck rolled his eyes, but he did it with discretion. “I’ll take that as an admission.”

“Told you so,” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

“Would you like to press charges?” Buck asked.

“Why hell yes I’m pressing charges!” I bobbed my head. “Take the old buzzard to jail.”

Turning my attention to the preacher, I gave him one of my wickedest bitch stares. “You’re just lucky the sheriff showed up when he did. Otherwise, you’d be picking yourself up off the ground instead of going to jail.”

“You see! Such wickedness,” Preacher Gamble yelled, taking a step in my direction.

I doubled up my fist. “Go ahead! I dare you.”

“Okay, Reverend Gamble. Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” Buck said, pulling his handcuffs from his belt.

One of the women stepped forward. It was hard to be sure which one, on account of they both looked equally as dour.