Read Online If the Broom Fits by Liz Schulte - Free Book Online

me?”
    â€œWhen Fredericka died. Do you remember her?”
    The first woman I could recall living with was tall with long raven hair that was always in a single braid down her back. I have no idea how long I was there, but she knew the rules when it came to me. Her long black gloves stuck in my memory like they were a part of who she was. She used to hum softly and rub my back until I fell asleep.
    â€œDid she have long dark hair? She was pretty, I think?”
    â€œThat sounds right,” he said.
    My last night with her there was a storm. Lightning and thunder crashed down around the trailer where we lived, shaking it as the walls seemed to suck in and out with pressure. I lay in bed trembling, too scared to move. Then sparks erupted outside my window and I screamed. She rushed into my room and took me in her arms. No gloves on. Dead instantly.
    That moment set the course of my life. Frost became more than just a name that night. It was my approach to life. It was my salvation.
    â€œI remember her,” I said, and I could feel his eyes drilling into me. I straightened my already straight shoulders. “Now I need to concentrate on getting this open. Stop distracting me with the past.”
    He squatted in front of the padlock and touched it. Ice and cold poured from his finger. How could someone so warm put out something so cold? After a few minutes he stood up. “Give it a try.”
    I stomped on the frozen padlock with my boot, and it shattered beneath the pressure. “Thank—”
    But he was gone.
    I opened the cellar doors and climbed into the darkness.

6
    Jessica
    D onavan raised a serious eyebrow . “I can pour you a drink if it’d make it easier.”
    It didn’t matter if he dumped an entire bottle of scotch down my throat, I wasn’t giving him a quote. “You can go to hell,” I said, standing up so fast I knocked the chair back. “How’s that for a quote.”
    His lips pursed and he tilted his head to the side. “Kind of cliché.”
    If I still had my magic, I would have turned him into some sort of bug and stepped on him.
    He broke out laughing. “You should see your face. Steam’s practically pouring out of your ears. I’m joking. I’m not writing about you or any of my theories…yet. I just wanted to see you squirm.”
    â€œHilarious.” I didn’t bother picking up the chair. I was still leaving. This man was impossible.
    â€œSeriously,” he said, trying for sincere and falling completely short. “I don’t have anything against your store. This is a small town. Public opinion matters and if I look like I’m trying to make trouble where there is none, I’ll lose even more readers. But I would like to be a part of whatever investigation you do. As I said earlier, I have a feeling about this case and obviously I’m not the only one or you wouldn’t be here glaring at me.” He came around his desk slowly and righted the chair behind me. “Please sit down.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t know that we have anything else to discuss. I’d like to look at the files, but you’re right. What sort of investigation could someone like me actually do? I mean most of my time is spent sitting in my occult shop thinking about ways I can con stupid people out of their hard earned money. I couldn’t possibly contribute to society in a meaningful way.”
    â€œSee, I knew it,” he teased, but I wasn’t ready for teasing. I was still pissed off. “It really was a joke.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t know anything about real magic if it bit you on the ass.”
    â€œIs that right?” He sat on the edge of his desk. “I guess we do have something to talk about then. Educate me on real magic.” Though he didn’t use them, I could hear the air quotes.
    â€œI don’t make a habit of wasting my time. Why would I try to explain anything