The Old Witcheroo by Dakota Cassidy Read Free Book Online

to the kitchen and get him a cool cloth and ice water,” Win instructed.
    So I pulled him along behind me, my chest aching in tune with my heart. He let me lead him to the kitchen as though he were a small child. As I positioned him over a chair, he collapsed into it with wobbly legs.
    “Just sit and I’ll get you something cool to drink and a cold pack. Don’t move,” I ordered with a shake of a stern finger, but I don’t think it mattered. He had no plans to go anywhere at this point.
    As I ran to the fridge, I plucked Bel from under the lapel of my shirt and set him inside my purse, where I tucked him safely into a napkin, out of sight.
    Whiskey made his way to Dana’s feet and promptly plunked down at them, letting his chin rest on the edge of his dusty shoes. I tried to think of what I was going to say, if I should ask why he was here, but I kept coming up dry.
    I’m usually pretty good in times of crisis. I had been a 9-1-1 operator, after all. But this was closer to home than usual and nothing felt right. All the words I thought up felt trivial, overdone.
    So I brought him the cold pack and a tall glass of ice water without speaking a word, setting them in front of him.
    But he only stared at them blankly, so I physically put the cold pack in his hand. “Put that to the back of your neck, Dana. It’ll help cool you, and you need to hydrate. Drink up, okay? Please?” I asked, peering at him.
    He did as I instructed, but still said nothing—until he looked toward the counter where I’d begun that list. “I should have known,” he grumbled, his voice broken and scratchy.
    “Known what?”
    Pointing to the counter, he motioned toward my list. “That you’d already have your nose buried ten feet deep in this.”
    I cringed, instant guilt washing over me. “I’m sorry. It’s just what I…”
    “Do,” he whispered. “It’s what you do, Stevie. It’s why I’m here.” Lifting a shaky hand, he drank some of the water, his grip tight on the glass, as though he needed something tangible to hold on to.
    “I don’t understand. Tell me what I can do to help you through this, Dana.”
    “Help me find the son of a…the monster who killed her. That’s how you can help,” he said with an eerily hushed tone.
    But I sat back and shook my head, tears springing to my eyes again. “You’re in no condition to talk about this now, Dana. Let me take you home, huh? I didn’t see your car out there. I’ll drive you. You can take a shower. I’ll call Sandwich, he’ll come over. We’ll have something to eat together. We’ll stay as long as you need us to, okay?”
    Suddenly, Dana was fully animated. He slammed his fist on the table, the water sloshing in his glass from the force, and barked, “No! I need your help, Stevie. I need you to help me now!”
    “I’m going to have Bel slip upstairs and call Sandwich, Dove. He’s clearly overwhelmed and in no shape to get home on his own. More support is necessary. Just keep him calm,” Win said before the warmth of his voice in my ear dissipated.
    I held up my hands before I placed them on his arm. “Okay. I’ll help you. Promise. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. But I’ll only help you if you promise you’ll drink more water and maybe even eat something. Deal?”
    His chuckle was ironic and surprising all at once. He was in that light-switch stage of grief where his emotions were on and off in the blink of an eye.
    “We’ve made deals like this before, haven’t we, Miss Cartwright?”
    I relaxed a little, letting go of his arm and sitting back in my chair. “Yeah,” I whispered back, remembering the last deal we’d cut, when he’d let me snoop to my heart’s content after my favorite taco vendor, Tito, had been killed. “Yeah, we have. But this time is different, Officer Nelson.”
    Dana closed his eyes and swallowed, the effort visible. “I don’t understand why… who ?”
    I rose from the table and went to the fridge to find something