Pretty Witches All in a Row (36 page)

“What was that all about, why were you so freaked out earlier?”

“I had a strong feeling something bad would happen to you tonight.  I thought if I could get you away…”

The EMT’s pushed the gurney in, wheeling it into the living room.  “Alright Miss Spencer, let’s take it nice and slow.”

Rose climbed onto the bed, lying back with a wince.  “Annaliese.”  Her hand reached out before they wheeled her away.  “I’m sorry how we left things; I couldn’t stand it if anything ever happened to you.  I love you Anna, I always have.” 

Annaliese grabbed her hand, moving to her side despite the frown from the EMT’s.  “I love you too, Rose, you know that.”

“No, I mean I
love
you,” Rose smiled sadly at Annaliese’s stunned expression.  “But it’s okay, the best man won,” she winked at Nick while Anna stared in shocked silence.  The EMT’s seized the lull in conversation and wheeled Rose out. 

“Any chance we can go home now?” Anna turned to him tiredly.

Nick had been steering clear of the conversation between the two women and suddenly, a lot of Rose’s hostility started to make sense.  “I can have a car take you home but I’ll be stuck here for hours.  Technically Ellie is still on the loose, remember?” 

“No, I’ll stay; I’ll rest out of the way while you’re doing your cop things,” she smiled faintly.  “But I’m going to go catch Rose first before she leaves, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded, giving her arm a little rub as Troyer and his team crossed the threshold.  Nelson and Willis barely spared them a glance, immediately dashing outside to join in the search for Ellie.  Annaliese gave them a polite nod and slipped out the front door.

Brady and Park came to report as soon as they spotted Troyer.  

“What have we got?” Troyer asked, not much for small talk.

“Basically, Ellie Wentworth is our guy.  She koshed Rose on the head and stashed her in the closet, then claimed that she left through the back door when the uniformed officer came to the door.”  Nick began, not exactly relishing having to tell the next bit.  “Then she micked us, only Annaliese managed to get out and Ellie pursued her into the woods.  They struggled over the murder weapon and Annaliese managed to wrench it away from her… which we have here.”  He pointed to the dagger on the coffee table and took a fortifying breath.  “Unfortunately, she got away before I could get there.”  

“You let a little old lady get away from you?”  Troyer fixed him with an amused smirk.

“Hey, in my defense, she did drug me…” Nick insisted indignantly and Brady spoke up to corroborate it. 

“We found a half empty bottle of laudanum in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, I think the rest of it was in the cup of coffee she gave me,” Nick grimaced.

“What’s this about shots fired?” 

“I took a couple of shots in her direction, but she was long gone.”

Troyer rubbed his hands together.  “Alright, looks like we got ourselves a manhunt,” he grinned, looking happy as a clam.  “I’ll expect a full report on my desk by nine am tomorrow.  You two get CSU here to process this place, and dig up everything we can on Ellie Wentworth, find out where she would go if she had to go to ground.”

“Yes Sir,” Park responded, Brady nodding at her side. 

“Do you need to me set up a command center to coordinate the search?” Nick asked.

“You?  Hell no, you’re on drugs; you’re not gonna be in command of jack shit.  If you need to feel useful, keep an eye on your witch.  Oh and get someone to guard the Spencer woman’s hospital room while you’re at it.”

For half a second Nick thought about complaining about being shut out of the case but on second thought, he decided he’d rather have the time to himself to get Annaliese home and make sure she really was alright.  Besides, he was tired as hell himself and if he had to admit it, he was still a little dazed from the aftereffects of the drugs. 

“Alright, you got it, boss.”  Nick gave him his best smile.  “It sounds like you’ve got things well in hand.  I’m gonna take Annaliese home and keep an eye on her there.  Give me a call if you catch her, otherwise I’ll see you guys tomorrow for the morning briefing.”

“See you tomorrow, Gibson, glad you two are alright,” Brady said, pulling Park aside to make some calls.

“I’m glad we are too,” Nick murmured, stepping outside to the front of the house, which had not gathered much of a crowd, perhaps due to a lack of emergency vehicles as of yet.  He spotted Annaliese standing next to the ambulance which was buttoning up to pull away.  “Hey you… ready to get out of here?” Nick asked, his arm going around her waist, no longer caring who saw it.

“I thought you had to stick around for a while?” 

“Apparently I’m not fit for duty, something about being on opiates clouding my judgment, I dunno.”  He waved away the concern nonchalantly.  “I’m free until tomorrow at nine AM.  So… you want to get out of here?”

“I don’t know, if you’re not fit for duty that doesn’t exactly breed confidence for you driving me home.”

“Alright, you drive then; I’m not adverse to letting a woman chauffer me around, especially back to her place,” Nick grinned.

“How evolved of you,” she laughed softly.  “What makes you think you’re invited back to my place though?”

“Hey, I’m supposed to take care of you remember?  The killer’s still out there.” 

“Oh right… I forgot,” Annaliese nodded slowly.  “Alright then, give me your keys.”  She waggled her fingers at him. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?  We could always catch a ride with a black and white.”

“I’m sure.  Besides, isn’t it a misappropriation of tax dollars to use a police car as a taxi service?”  She cocked a brow at him, taking the offered keys and sliding into the driver’s seat of his cop car.  “Can we ride with the siren on?”

“Okay that’s it, give me the keys back.”   

* * *

In the end it was a good thing she’d chosen to drive, because Nick was out cold two seconds after she started up the car.  Annaliese let him sleep until they pulled into her driveway and then he felt himself nudged awake, blinking groggily in the darkened car. 

“Hey, we’re here,” he smiled sleepily.

“Yes, we are.  It hardly feels like the same night, does it?” she sighed, leaning back in the driver’s seat. 

“I told you I’d keep you safe.”  His head lolled to one side, a lopsided smile on his lips. 

“Yes, you did,” she smiled back.  “Of course, in certain cultures now you’re responsible for me until I can repay the life debt.” 

“Wait, how does that work?  I go through all the effort of saving you and then I’m stuck with you?  What kind of a reward is that?” Nick teased, reaching out to capture her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. 

“Oh, so you’re in it for the reward… and here I thought it was your civic duty to protect and serve.”

“To protect and serve... yes.  But this… is going way beyond the call of duty.”

“What is?”

“This is.”  Nick leaned forward, tugging her lightly to him; he captured her mouth with his. 

Annaliese closed the distance between them, lips parting to accept him.  “Well then, it’s a good thing you’re off duty now, Detective.”

“Sergeant…” he corrected her, his hand slipping behind her neck to bind her to him.

“Whatever,” she smiled against his lips. 

Read on for a special preview of Lisa Olsen's novel,
The Touch
, available now!

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Books by Lisa Olsen:

The Touch

Pretty Witches All in a Row

The Fallen Series

Angel of Mercy

Mercy for the Wicked

Mercy for the Damned
(Spring 2012)

Forged Bloodlines Series

Wake Me When the Sun Goes Down

Meet Me When the Sun Goes Down
(Fall 2012)

For more information, visit the author’s website at
http://www.lisaolsen.net

Preview - The Touch

Chapter One

Despite popular belief, Lexi wasn’t a psychic.  She couldn’t tell the future or produce the winning lotto numbers (or she wouldn’t be driving a beat up VW bug a year older than she was).  Nor was she a medium who talked to the dead or saw ghosts.  Her talents were a little ambiguous for most people to understand; what they did recognize was that Lexi Morgan was a little unusual.  She preferred quirky to bat-shit crazy, but people weren’t always that kind.

Peculiar, weird, strange, none of these were new to her ears.  Even for such a laid back place like Santa Cruz California, Lexi was considered odd in most social circles.  Eccentric was her favorite one; it made it seem like it was a deliberate choice to be the way she was instead of being born to a set of circumstances completely out of her control.   Distracted, crazy, spooky even; those usually came from spending more than a few minutes in her company, but usually only after she opened her mouth.  Even after years of practice, it was hard to keep track of what she
saw
and what people revealed voluntarily.  While it sounded easy enough to promise herself to keep a muzzle on her outbursts, time and again things she had no right to know just slipped out in normal conversation. 

That very same quality kept people calling Lexi when things hit the fan, though.  When something went missing, did you call the president of the PTA?  Nope, you called the weird girl with a knack for finding things.   So when the call came from her sister Allison, it didn’t take much in the way of deductive reasoning to figure out that she wanted something. 

The nice thing to do would have been to call her back and find out what she wanted right away.  Hell, the nice thing to do would have been to answer the call in the first place, but Lexi had just mixed the perfect shade of blue for a piece she was working on in her home studio (a fancy name for the converted garage, but it suited her purposes nicely) when the call came in and she wasn’t in the mood for whatever gossip Allie wanted to talk about, even on speakerphone. 

But at the third text with “911 need u 2 come ovr fst”, Lexi broke down and sent “b there soon” before setting her brushes to soak, muttering to herself the whole time washing up.  People had been begging her to help them find things all the way back to elementary school when it was actually considered cool to be special, as her Gran called it.  Growing up she’d always been the odd duck, unlike Allison, the very epitome of the perfect older sister.  Despite their differences and Lexi’s sometimes embarrassing peculiarities, the sisters were reasonably close growing up; especially after their mother’s sudden departure and their move to Gran’s place.       

Her relationship with Allie cooled somewhat since her older sister’s marriage to Neil Travers, even though they still lived in the same town.  Neil, (‘the tool’, as Lexi called him behind his back) was never easy to get along with.  Lexi made an effort to keep her opinions to herself though, or she’d never get to see her niece Chloe.

It was worry for Chloe that lent a touch of urgency to Lexi’s response, pushing the little yellow car though the busy streets until she reached Branciforte Drive.  There the traffic thinned out; trees casting the winding road into perpetual shadow no matter the time of day.  The sun struggled to filter through the canopy of trees on the property, lending the house a darker cast than the faded white paint would normally allow, giving it a slightly foreboding appearance.  Or was that just her mood?  She never felt comfortable in the big house; Lexi attributed that to not getting along with Neil.  But now her imagination supplied an eerie pall to the house, as though the peeling paint was somehow something more sinister than neglect. 

An unfamiliar dark blue Lincoln Towncar sat in the long circular driveway, drawing a pucker of worry to her brow as she noticed the government plates.  Whoever it belonged to, they were more than likely there in an official capacity since Neil worked for a software company and Allie hadn’t worked since Chloe was born.  A stab of guilt clenched her stomach into a hard little ball as Lexi hopped out of the car, each step that brought her closer to the front door filling her with a sense of dread.  Had something happened to Chloe and she’d been too selfish to stop her painting to come when Allison first called? 

With a quick knock of warning, Lexi let herself in to the old house, immediately uncomfortable as she stepped across the threshold, as though she was in enemy territory.  “Allie?” she called out, hoping like hell Neil wasn’t home. 

“In here Lexi,” came the response from the front living room where her sister sat with a man who wasn’t her husband at all.  The stranger held a mug of coffee in his hand, his attention focused on Lexi from the moment she appeared in the archway, dark eyes scrutinizing her from head to toe and back again. 

Lexi knew exactly what people thought of her on first sight.  Not that her appearance stood out all that much in a city like Santa Cruz, where people came from all over the world to share in its unique atmosphere.  A liberal town, it wasn’t unusual to see people running around barefoot, dressed in hippy chic or the latest in clothing made from hemp.  The Hare Krishna population could walk the main thoroughfares, tambourines and all, without even raising a brow.  Her personal style was hardly outlandish by these standards; Lexi preferred to dress for comfort in soft, breathable fabrics.  She didn’t own a pair of skinny jeans or high heels.  Her long hair had been through just about every hue imaginable to man over the years.  Currently a respectable medium brown (her natural color) save a few blue streaks (not so much on the respectable side), Lexi preferred to leave it loose to spill over her shoulders, or pulled back into a simple pony tail when she was working, as it was now.  There were plenty of artist types in town who liked to get creative with their own style.  Enough so that her gloved hands often went without comment, even on the hottest summer days, but the man’s gaze lingered there before returning to her face and Lexi could practically see the wheels turning in his head.