Witchy Woman by Karen Leabo Read Free Book Online Page B

said, brooking no argument. “And don’t worry, I drove my car, not the Harley.” As they passed the nurses’ station on the way to the elevator, he grabbed a couple of tissues from a box on the desk and handed them to her wordlessly.
    She was so grateful that he wasn’t making a big deal of her tears that she would have agreed to anything he suggested.
    The weather had taken a nasty turn, both cold and damp. Tess had accidentally left her jacket in Judy’s room and didn’t want to return for it, in case her friend was asleep. Nate, overcome with a ridiculous urge to be chivalrous, gave her his tweed blazer. She accepted it with a silent nod of gratitude, although it swallowed her whole. The hem hit her halfway to her knees, and the sleeves extended beyond her fingertips.
    The oversized jacket, combined with her tears, should have made her look childlike. But Nate had no trouble remembering that Tess DeWitt was a hundred-percent full-grown woman. He could have offered her more warmth and comfort than a threadbare jacket, but he didn’t intend to tread where he wasn’t yet welcome. He settled for frequent covert glances at her as he drove toward Back Bay, drinking in the sight of her angel’s face in profile, her damp, tear-shiny eyes, the rise and fall of her breasts, and she did nothing more provocative than breathe.
    Patience was a virtue, he reminded himself.
    When they reached Judy’s fashionable Back Bay town house, for a moment all Nate could do was stare at the three-story Victorian brownstone. “Man, what did she do, rob a bank?”
    But Tess wasn’t listening. She was staring at a man wearing a dark overcoat who was walking down the sidewalk away from them.
    “Tess?”
    “That man,” she said. “I think he was watching us.”
    “And I think your imagination is working overtime,” Nate said, leading the way to the front porch.
    Tess deactivated the burglar alarm and unlocked the door. “You’re right. I haven’t had much sleep the last three days. Still, that guy was kind of creepy looking.”
    They entered the luxurious town house and shook off the cold and damp. Someone, the neighbor, perhaps, had turned on the heat, but for some reason, Nate found the place far from cozy. In fact, Judy’shome gave him a funny, unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wondered why.
    “Here, kitty, kitty,” Tess called softly as they went into the living room. The sofa and coffee table were strewn with shopping bags, probably from Saturday’s outing. “Hmm, I wonder where the cat is? He knows I don’t like him, so he’s usually all over me like a rash the moment I walk through the door.”
    “Cats are perceptive creatures,” Nate said. “He probably knows Judy is sick, and he’s moping somewhere. My sister Cathy had a cat that was devoted to her. When she went into the hospital the first time, the cat disappeared. My dad and I looked everywhere. Yet the day we brought Cathy home, there was the cat on the front porch, waiting for us.”
    “What did it do when your sister died?” Tess asked gently.
    “Disappeared again. We never found it.”
    Tess shivered. “That’s why I don’t like cats. They’re spooky. Here, kitty, kitty,” she tried again, halfheartedly.
    Nate set off to search for the cat. There was no sign of it downstairs or on the second floor. But on the third floor, when he entered one of the bedrooms, he heard a low, fearful growl.
    He got on his hands and knees and peered under the bed. There he found a huge ball of black fur scrunched back in a corner. Two round, orange eyes glowed menacingly from the fur ball, which hissed when Nate extended a hand toward it.
    “C’mon, cat,” he cajoled. “Tess is going to feed you some nice, smelly canned food.”
    The cat hissed again.
    “Come on, now. Judy has enough to worry about without you going on a hunger strike.” He reached closer, intending to pet the cat. In a lightning-quick move, Whiskers made a sweeping slash with one