Read Murder Most Witchy (Wendy Lightower Mystery) for Free Online Page B

us. It's okay," Wendy patted Magda's clenched hand and felt her relax slightly.
    "Miss Lightower," he said, looking at Wendy. "I wanted to come and introduce myself. Douglas Fry."
    "Nice to meet you," Wendy shook his hand. The name rang a bell of recognition in the back of her mind, but she couldn't place it, nor did she recognize him beyond having seen him the night before.
    "I understand that I have you to thank for making my family's collection look better than it has in a century."
    The memory clicked into place. A main portion of the exhibit was on loan from the Fry family. They were originally from North Harbor, but Wendy remembered hearing that the current family members lived elsewhere - Boston, perhaps.
    "I very much enjoyed working on the documents. I'm glad you like the exhibit."
    Aside from a friendly smile when he first walked up, Douglas had ignored Magda completely. He continued to speak exclusively to Wendy. "It looks wonderful. I'm so pleased that we were able to put these musty old books and fading pieces of paper to a good use. It is much better than having them locked away in the family vault."
    "Are you staying in North Harbor?" Wendy felt Magda tense beside her. If she had to guess, her friend was more interested in the answer than she wanted to be.
    "For the time being," he replied vaguely. "I haven't been here since I was a child. This place brings back a lot of memories. We used to visit my grandparents in the summers."
    After a few more moments of small talk and another round of thanks from Douglas, he took his leave. Only at the very end of the conversation did he appear to notice Magda at all.
    "Nice to see you again," he said with a smile, and his tone conveyed that he more than meant it.
    "That wasn't so bad," Wendy commented once he had gone.
    Magda mumbled something under her breath, and Wendy could tell that she was embarrassed about overreacting.
    "Let's go check out all this work I've been doing," Wendy changed the subject and slipped her arm through Magda's outthrust elbow.
    The two women wove their way through the crowds of people to the double wide entrance into the museum proper. The moment they left the bulk of the crowd behind them, Wendy could hear Derek's voice resounding and postulating to a small of group of very well-dressed men and women. While everyone that night had made an effort, this group quite clearly represented the cream of North Harbor society.
    Once again, Wendy met the stormy gray eyes of Archer, and the man actually had the audacity to wink at her. Blushing, she moved her glance further along the group. Archer stood close to another man who was shorter than him by several inches, which appeared to have been added to the older man's middle. He had hair so dark that it almost certainly had been dyed recently and cemented into place so that not a single strand moved. His cheesy smile marked him for a politician of the local, self-important breed. Even Wendy recognized Nathan Braun, the mayor of North Harbor.
    "Here we have a particularly interesting bit of local history. There are events in our past that not even our oldest families remember. I don't include myself, of course, as a local historian, and my family dates back to the town's founding, as does the family of our wonderful mayor." Derek was sounding very pleased with himself, and based on the way he was catching one diamond-crusted, silk-draped woman, he wasn't the only one. Nathan nodded and smiled smugly at Braun. “It is one of the reasons we were able to put this exhibit together. Without Mr. Braun's help, and my own not inconsiderable efforts, I can safely say that we wouldn't be here tonight.”
    Wendy lost track of Derek's speech when she noticed Nathan Braun peel away from the group and make a straight line toward the darkened end of the museum. Archer didn't seem to notice that his boss had gone missing. The way that everyone had studiously avoided watching the mayor's retreat and his choice to enter a