Murder Most Witchy (Wendy Lightower Mystery) by Emily Rylands Read Free Book Online Page A

and the air is still crisp but with a promise of warmth. Wendy wanted nothing more than to lie for hours in her soft Egyptian cotton clad bed and read the romance novel she had just picked up from the public library.
    Unfortunately, very unfortunately, she had work to do. The exhibit, which had proved itself very popular the night before, was slated to open to the public that day. While most everything had gone exactly as she and Derek planned, there were inevitably one or two little changes to be made to some of the items based on how the displays had been received by actual guests and the flow of the room.
    Wendy wasn't scheduled to work, and the library side of the building would be closed, so if she got there early enough she might be able to make the necessary changes without running into anyone who might ask her to stay on and help. Then she could still enjoy the beauty of the day.
    Sufficiently motivated, Wendy jumped out of bed without any more internal grumbling.
     
    It was just reaching seven o'clock, and the streets of North Harbor were completely deserted so early on a Saturday morning. Even the most energetic of tourists wouldn't be out for another hour, and therefore, the businesses that catered to them were still shuttered as well. The town felt sleepy and peaceful, something that Wendy often didn't experience at all during the bustling months of summer, and she walked slowly to appreciate it. She had left her car at home, walking the mile to the library in order to eke out every moment of that perfect Saturday.
    The library was locked up tight with no evidence that it had been the scene of a rather loud party the night before. It looked just as quiet and respectable as ever.
    Wendy used her keys to open the front door and then automatically went to the panel on the wall to turn off the alarm. Her brow furrowed when she reached for the alarm keypad only to find that the customary beeping, informing her that the alarm would soon sound without her access code, was silent. She looked closer at the pad and confirmed that the alarm wasn't set. Derek must have come in at a truly ungodly hour to get everything just right. She didn't blame him; it was the biggest collection the museum had shown in years.
    “Derek,” she called. No answer, but then he wouldn't hear her if he was in the storage room.
    As she moved through the entrance area, Wendy automatically turned on each light as she went. Soon the building was as warm and inviting as it would be for the crowds of expected visitors later that morning.
    Wendy stopped by her office and dropped her jacket on the back of her chair. Then she went in search of Derek. Her plans to get in and out without being seen were foiled, but if she showed herself early, designated herself the tasks that needed to be done, and didn't give Derek any time to speak, she might just get out in under two hours.
    The double doors leading into the museum were tightly shut. Wendy pushed them open only to find the rooms on the other side as gloomy and dark as the entrance had been. The shades were pulled down over the windows, and the lights were all off.
    “He's like a vampire,” Wendy muttered. Then she silently corrected herself. She'd known a vampire once, and Derek simply didn't measure up.
    “Derek!” she called again. Still there was no answer, though at this point he should have easily heard her no matter where he had hidden himself in the museum.
    A cold feeling, like a hard ball of steel, settled itself in her stomach. There had been little signs, flashing at her like obnoxious neon, ever since she walked through the door, and now she was certain. Something was very wrong in this room.
    Every fiber of her body, both the ordinary senses and the magical ones, were tingling with warning and anticipation. When she advanced into the room, she moved much slower and with a great deal more caution than she had before.
    For once, she didn't turn on any lights. There was a possibility,