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

lurking about, I wouldn’t have recognized them.
    Anyone else? I ticked off the names of people I’d helped put in jail. Did they have families or friends looking for revenge? Maybe…anything’s possible.
    My thoughts brought me no comfort. In fact, if I didn’t watch it, paranoia would become my new best friend.
    The ringing of my cell phone broke into my unpleasant thoughts, and grateful for the distraction, I flipped it open.
    “Hello.”
    “Jensen, sounds like you came close to losing your grip on that broom yesterday.”
    I almost dropped the phone in surprise. “Ethan…how did you—”
    His low chuckle sounded in my ear. “I heard a news report about the shooting of some author near Summerset, Iowa. Knowing you, I figured you’d be involved, so I called Bill and he filled me in.”
    “Where are you? Are you going to be popping up in Summerset again?” I crossed my fingers as I asked the question. In spite of all our disagreements, Ethan believed in my talent—he’d help me figure out what was happening.
    “The answer to your first question is, ‘I can’t tell you.’”
    “Right. The undercover thing. My second question?”
    “No.” I heard the regret in his voice. “Not this time. I’m right in the middle of something.”
    A surprising pang of anxiety hit me. “Something dangerous?”
    “Hey, Jensen, you almost sound like you care.”
    “Ah, well, I owe you. You helped me find Tink—”
    Ethan laughed. “And almost received a reprimand as a result of our less than ‘by the book’ tactics.”
    “See what I mean…I owe you.”
    His voice grew serious. “No, I’m safe. This assignment is more tedious than dangerous, but that’s all I can say about it. How about you? Are you going to stay out of trouble?”
    His question hit too close to home. “I suppose Bill told you his crazy theory?”
    “Yup. You don’t agree?”
    “No, it’s nuts,” I blustered. “I’m just a librarian. Who’d want to shoot me?”
    “You mean other than Bill every now and again?” he asked with a laugh.
    “Very funny.” I frowned and gave a long sigh. “This is serious. Stephen might die.” My words sounded bleak.
    Silence at the other end lengthened, and for a moment I thought I’d lost our connection. When Ethan spoke, the teasing tone had disappeared from his voice. “I know you don’t want to think someone took a bullet meant for you, but you need to consider the possibility.”
    “I have, and everyone who might hold a grudge is still in jail.”
    “Look, Ophelia, Bill’s a good cop. If he thinks you might have been the target, you should listen to him—”
    “It doesn’t feel right,” I said, cutting him off. “There’s more to this. I sense Stephen was the shooter’s quarry, and I was there for a reason…” I paused. “…but I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
    Ethan’s voice took on a hard edge. “Don’t be stupid, Jensen. Don’t rely on your talent to keep you safe.”
    “If I can’t count on myself, who can I count on?” I shot back.
    “I told you—Bill,” he replied curtly.
    My eyes narrowed and I felt my mouth settle into a stubborn line. It was pointless to argue. Regardless of Ethan’s teasing, he was still a cop, and cops stick together.
    “Is delivering a lecture the only reason you called?” I asked finally.
    “I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything dumb.”
    “Well, thank you so much for your faith in my ability to take care of myself,” I said sarcastically, and snapped the phone shut, disconnecting us.
    I was still fuming when I reached the library twenty minutes later. Marching up the steps, I flung the door open.
    The library was empty except for Darci. She took one look at my face and stepped away from the counter. “Forget that question. I was going to ask how you were, but I can see.”
    I slung my purse on the shelf under the counter and gave her a scathing look. “How am I? I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m some