The Old Witcheroo by Dakota Cassidy Read Free Book Online Page A

to fix him a sandwich. I was itching to ask him questions about what happened between them last night. Now, I’m well aware I’m a rambler. I can talk circles around most people in order to get what I want. I’m good at confusion and chaos. Just ask Sandwich what I’m like when I want an answer only the police are privy to.
    But I also, ironically, have a gauge, and I’d never trample all over someone’s feelings to get that information. I knew the longer we waited, the more time Sophia’s killer was free, but I could live without involving Officer Nelson and his raw heart in order to figure this out. I’d just work around him.
    So I stuck my head inside our fridge and looked for the sliced cheddar. “I don’t either, Dana.” Dragging out some tomatoes fresh from our garden, and the cheese and mayo, I rustled up some thick slices of turkey Enzo’s wife, Carmella, had dropped off earlier today, making a hearty sandwich.
    When the doorbell rang again, Win assured me it was Sandwich. I set the plate in front of Dana and patted his shoulder, encouraging him to eat before I went to the door and let Sandwich in.
    Sandwich looked as tired as Dana. His uniform was also sweat-stained, his eyes bleary, his face solemn as he stepped over our threshold, his bulky body filling the entryway.
    He hitched his jaw toward the kitchen where Dana sat, toying with his food. “Your virtual assistant called and said he was here. Didn’t know you had a virtual assistant. Belfry, is it? Crazy name.”
    I gave him a brief smile. We’d created a virtual-assistant-from-Connecticut label for Belfry, so he could help with the day-to-day running of Madam Z’s, among a million other things. “Bel just makes things much easier on me when it comes to juggling Madam Zoltar’s. He handles all the social media and such.”
    Sandwich let his eyes skim over the top of my head to the kitchen where Dana sat. “How is he?”
    “Crappy. Gosh, Sandwich, I’ve never seen him look like this. I know I haven’t known him as long as you, but he’s torn up.”
    “Yep. He loved her for sure. Can’t say as I blame him. Nice girl, she was. Daggone shame is what today was.”
    “Any news? Any new developments?” I asked hopefully, but not because I couldn’t wait to dig into this mystery. Not at all. I just wanted anything that might help Dana feel better.
    Sandwich’s face deflated. “Nah. I couldn’t tell you even if there was. You know that.”
    “I know. I wasn’t asking because I want a hot tip. I was asking because I’m worried about Officer Nelson.” I left it at that as I patted him on the arm and motioned for him to make his way into the kitchen.
    Sandwich approached with care, gripping Dana’s shoulder before taking a place at the kitchen table. I decided to make him a sandwich, too, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do.
    I watched from the counter as Sandwich peered at his fellow officer and friend, his eyes rich with concern. “Stupid question comin’ at ya, but are you okay, pal? I mean, you have it together enough now?”
    Meaning he’d lost it again after the beach? Goddess, he was a wreck.
    Dana looked up then, staring directly at Sandwich. “No. I’m not okay, but I’m more together than I was,” he cleared his throat, “uh…earlier.”
    Setting a plate in front of Sandwich, I slid into a chair between the two of them and folded my hands, waiting. I wasn’t sure where to go from here.
    The sun was beginning to fade, leaving the purply-orange twilight of the approaching evening, and time was wasting. I didn’t want to upset Dana, but I did want to keep working on that list while the details were still fresh in my mind.
    “So what brought ya to Stevie’s, buddy?” Sandwich asked, nodding his thanks for the plate of food.
    “ She brought me here,” he offered, wooden and short.
    Sandwich looked to me, his eyes suspicious and accusatory. I knew that look. It said, “Nosy Stevie can’t even let a guy