Witch at Heart: A Jinx Hamilton Witch Mystery Book 1 (The Jinx Hamilton Mysteries) by Juliette Harper Read Free Book Online

Halloween and that neither one of us ever egged a tombstone. I plead the Fifth in regard to toilet papering.
    The local Briar Hollow cemetery sat on the edge of town on a sloping piece of land that disappeared into deep woods at the north end. The kind of deep woods that are bound to harbor at least one werewolf and potentially some of those guys from Deliverance . In daylight I might have called the graveyard peaceful and picturesque, but in the dark, I was on the lookout for anyone wearing a hockey mask.
    Tori was not helping. As the daughters of two dyed-in-the-wool movie buffs, we both had an impressive store of screen references at our disposal. Tori was having a high old time quoting lines from scary movies, to the point that I was starting to wish I really did know how to put a hex her.
    In my imagination, and still pretty rattled with my newfound ability to see folks on the other side, I expected to walk into a bad remake of Night of the Living Dead. What I got was more like Night at the Museum . I don’t know what the funeral parlor mixes in with that formaldehyde, but these people were seriously high on death.
    The instant I unlatched the rusty iron gate and stepped inside the boundaries of the burying ground, my paranormal rabbit ears started pulling in a signal. One minute I was looking at a moonlit cemetery and the next thing I know a mostly transparent coonhound came loping through the grave markers.
    As I watched, this so-called “hellhound” vaulted over a praying angel and jumped up to pluck a spectral tennis ball out of the air. The dog then trotted obediently back to a Confederate colonel in full uniform while a flapper, two grannies in long gingham dresses, and a woman with a massive beehive and cat’s eye glasses applauded. The dog wagged his tail so vigorously it acted like a helicopter rotor and lifted him a good foot off the ground.
    “Do you see anything?” Tori whispered from behind me.
    “Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “Several anythings.”
    “Oh my God,” she said from behind me and to my left. “Quit hogging the good seats. Scrunch down so I can see, too.”
    On the drive over she explained to me that according to her grandmother, if one person was looking at a ghost that was not visible to a second person, all the bystander had to do was peer over the first person’s left shoulder and all would be revealed.
    Seriously, who comes up with this stuff?
    But, being a good sport, and judging from the gasp Tori let out as soon as I “scrunched,” her granny was apparently right.
    “Holy crap,” Tori said as we watched a high school football player jog past. “Do you suppose it’s like this every night?”
    A discreet cough made me turn my head to the right. The Colonel swept off his panama hat and bowed low. “Good evening, ladies,” he said in a deep voice. “Welcome to the evening’s festivities.”
    “Oh. My. God.” Tori said, still straining to see over my shoulder. “I can hear them, too.”
    The Colonel peered at her benevolently. “Colonel Beauregard T. Longworth at your service, ma’am. Loitering behind your friend will no longer be necessary. We’re all quite happy to allow you to see us.”
    Tori stepped out from behind me and took a cautious step toward the Colonel who continued to beam at her. “Can I touch you?” she asked.
    “Well, you can try,” he said, “but I fear you will not be successful.”
    He called it. Tori’s hand passed right through the gold braid on his sleeve. She yelped and jerked back. “Ouch! Colonel Longworth,” she exclaimed, “you’re ice cold!”
    The Colonel chuckled, “Well, my dear, I haven’t had a functional circulatory system since 1864. And please, call me Beau.” The spectre turned to me. “You must be Jinx,” he said. “Fiona told us to expect you.”
    Of course she did.
    “You knew . . . er . . . know my aunt?” I asked.
    The football player galloped to a stop beside the Colonel and took off his helmet. “We all