Read Online The Witch’s Grave by Shirley Damsgaard - Free Book Online Page A

situation.
    “You’re right, I guess,” she said. “I’ll write something about working at the greenhouse.” She paused. “What time will you pick me up?”
    “Um…I’ve a few errands to run, so it will—”
    “What kind of errands?” she asked, breaking in.
    Great, another lie. I sure seemed to telling a lot of those today.
    “Oh you know, get groceries, stop by Claire’s, that kind of thing.”
    “I was going to ask if I could go with you, but forget that if you’re going to Mrs. Canyon’s. You’ll be there for hours,” she groused.
    “I promise I won’t be long.”
    “Aw, that’s okay,” she said, her tone abruptly changing. “After we close, Abby’s going to show me the journals.”
    Ah yes, “the journals”—private diaries kept by the women in my family for over a hundred years. They held spells, incantations, folk remedies—things my ancestors had used while living in the mountains of Appalachia.
    “That’s fine, but don’t be getting any big ideas,” I warned. “Remember—”
    “‘Don’t conjure what you can’t banish.’ Like I haven’t heard that before.”
    In my mind, I could almost see Tink rolling her eyes as she said it.
    “Exactly.”
    “Hey, speaking of conjuring, I’ve been thinking about yesterday, and—”
    Nope, couldn’t let the conversation go there. “Hey, I’ve got some work I need to finish before closing,” I said in a rush, not letting her finish, “so I need to go. We’ll talk later.”
    “Okay, see ya—love ya.”
    “Love you, too.”
    I turned to see Darci watching me with a bemused expression. “Tink busy at Abby’s?”
    “Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “And she’s ticked that she’s got homework tonight.”
    “The teachers don’t waste much time, do they?”
    “No, they don’t…” Here was my chance to do a little of my own damage control. “About Tink and our early conversation—”
    Darci arched an eyebrow. “You mean the one where you stated, ‘I’m right and I’m going to prove it’?”
    “Ah, yeah, that one.” I looked down and fiddled with a button on my jacket. “My words were rash. I’d never do anything that might place Tink or Abby in jeopardy.”
    Darci placed a hand on my arm, and I raised my eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply that you would,” she said softly.
    “I know…as I said, my words were rash, and I’m sure a result of Bill and Ethan’s attitude. At times it’s frustrating.” I glanced down, then back up at Darci with a bright smile. “Bill’s good at his job. He’ll get to the bottom of Stephen’s shooting without any help from me.”
    “Hmmm.” Darci tapped her chin with one finger. “While you were in your office, I thought about your dreams, the shooting, and did a little thinking.”
    “Yeah?” Knowing Darci’s creative mind—this ought to be good.
    “Yeah, I’m not a psychic, but maybe the dreams were only a sign that you’d meet him. Your dreams never indicated any danger, did they?”
    I thought about my dream last night and told another lie. “No.”
    “Maybe the reason you didn’t sense any trouble is because what happened has nothing to do with your connection to Stephen.”
    I nodded my head wisely. “You know, you’re probably right,” I replied, once again lying through my teeth. “I’m placing way too much emphasis on that connection.” I held a finger in the air. “Which is another good reason for me to stay out of the investigation.”
    “You really think I might be right?” Darci’s eyes sparkled.
    “Yes,” I answered, trying to sound convincing.
    “Great.” She turned toward the clock hanging on the far wall. “Would you mind if I left early?”
    I shrugged. “Might as well. I can close up by myself.”
    She hustled behind the counter and grabbed her bag. “I’ve got a date with Jimmy McGuire tonight.”
    Shaking my head, I watched her hurry to the door and, with a quick wiggle of her fingers at me, disappear outside.
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