Hell Fire by Ann Aguirre Read Free Book Online

something through the little crack beneath the door, and a foul smell told me the powdery residue wasn’t dust.
    “Chance, come take a look at this.”
    He crouched down. “Smells rotten.”
    “We’ve either been visited by something nasty or this is a spell component.” Dammit, I wished I had my mother’s books. “Let’s get out of here.”
    “First . . .” He got a zip bag out of his duffel and used a comb, wrapped in toilet paper, to scoop up a little of the powder. I didn’t know what he planned on doing with it, but it didn’t seem like the time to question him.
    We snatched our belongings, and I opened the door into the hall. Another line of evil-smelling powder ran across our threshold. I remembered the way Chuch and Eva had warded their house with sea salt and wormwood and I hesitated, wondering if we’d been hexed or blessed.
    “Could this be for our protection?” I wondered aloud. “A country tradition?”
    “Either way, step over it. Don’t get it on your shoe.”
    That sounded like a wise idea, if only to avoid the smell, so I did just that. Chance followed me, closing the door behind him. I stifled a little scream when Sandra Cheney came around the corner.
    “Lunch is ready,” she said. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t miss it. I made a lovely pot roast with potatoes and carrots. Peach pie for dessert.”
    Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled, but no lightning flashed afterward. To me it sounded like a portent of things to come.
    “Thank you, but we have an engagement,” I returned as politely as I could manage.
    Something flickered behind her pale blue eyes. “An engagement? I didn’t realize you knew anyone in Kilmer. I took you for tourists, not that we get many these days.”
    I dodged her question. “Why is that?”
    She made a vague gesture. “Oh, you know. People just bypass the town, since the highway doesn’t run by here.”
    “What made you open a bed-and-breakfast?” Offense seemed like the best defense. If I questioned her all the way to the foyer, she wouldn’t be able to do the same. Chance walked ahead, apparently trusting me to deal with the situation. I had to admit; I liked the sensation.
    “It was always here,” Sandra said. “My husband’s maternal grandmother used to run the place. Jensen’s Boardinghouse, she called it. We just updated the look and changed things a little when we took over.”
    We reached the stairs and I let her pass. I didn’t want her thinking too hard about why I had both my backpack and my purse; nor did I want her getting a glimpse of Butch.
    “How did you wind up in Kilmer?”
    Sandra cut me a surprised look. “Why, I’ve always lived here. Before I married Jim, I was Sandy Prentice.”
    Said as if the name means something to me. I tried to appear suitably impressed.
    “Nice.”
    Her expression morphed into a tight-lipped courtesy that said I just knew you weren’t from around here. Good for me.
    “Reverend Prentice is my father,” she went on, “and the minister at the Methodist church.”
    The same one Miss Minnie always tried to drag me to? No wonder I didn’t recognize Sandra. I never went inside churches if I could help it. The whole witch’s daughter thing made me uncomfortable.
    As I cast about for something to say, Chance put in, “Well, no wonder you have such a knack for setting people at home. As a preacher’s daughter, you must’ve helped host a lot of get-togethers.”
    Sandra flushed, obviously delighted. I struggled not to snort.
    “Yes, I did help my father when he’d have the deacons over to Saturday breakfast. And aren’t you a sweet thing to notice?” Her newscaster accent finally stressed and broke, giving way to a drawl as she flirted.
    “I could hardly help it.”
    “I hope you’ll stop by the dining room and meet Jim and Shannon before you leave. That way you won’t be disturbed if you run across them at odd hours.”
    Now why would she put it like that?
    “We’d love to,”