Read Witch Slapped (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 1) for Free Online Page B

cheeks.
    Nelson cleared his throat and put on his “I’m in charge” face, meaning, quit passing pleasantries with the suspect. “Officer Paddington. Please take Miss Cartwright to the station.”
    Sandwich Paddington, who I was still trying to place, tipped his hat at Nelson, his pleasant face going crimson. “Oh yeah. Right. Right. Sorry, Stevie. It’s my job.”
    As Sandwich went for my arm to escort me out, I took a step back. “Hold up! Am I being arrested?”
    Officer Nelson gave me the policeman’s glare of authority. “Not unless you make me arrest you. We’d just like to ask you some questions in a more formal setting about what happened here, Miss Cartwright. If you’re not agreeable, I can certainly cuff you.”
    Shaking my head, I held my hands up. The last thing I needed to do was create a scene in front of the people who would be my neighbors. “That won’t be necessary. I’m happy to answer any questions you have.”
    With that, I made my way through the burgeoning crowd, past Chester, who growled at me and snapped his teeth, and out toward the police car, still trying to figure out who Sandwich was.
    I’d been cautious about getting too close to anyone during high school. I could do things no one else could—like talk to the dead—and I was still learning how to manage it when I grew into my teens. No one in Ebenezer Falls knew I was a witch, and at that very crucial time in my life, when I was awkward and my self-esteem was at its lowest, I’d put myself in self-imposed isolation.
    As we made our way to the curb, the eyes of Ebenezer Falls were on me. Burning a hole into my back, people whispering behind their hands.
    I was about to make my way to the passenger door when Sandwich scuffled behind me and gripped my elbow. “Sorry, Stevie. I have to put you in the backseat.”
    There was a groan from the interior of my purse I had no choice but to ignore as I got in the backseat, crossing my arms over my chest.
    “You want me to put the sirens on?” Sandwich asked, his face smiling at me from the rearview mirror.
    “To announce I’m being questioned in the death of Madam Zoltar?”
    His face went bright red. “Aw, shoot. I wasn’t thinking about that. I was just thinking people always ask because they think it’s kinda cool. Sorry.”
    I managed a smile. “It’s okay, Sandwich. Under any other circumstances, I’d be all for it. So here’s a question maybe you can answer. Am I under suspicion in the death of Madam Zoltar?”
    His wide shoulders bumped upward. “I dunno. Nelson just called for backup and when I got there, Gorton said Nelson’s orders were to bring you in for questioning and a statement. It’s standard procedure. That much I can tell ya.”
    That made me feel a little better, but not by a lot.
    As rain battered the windshield of the cruiser while we whisked through the streets of Ebenezer Falls, I tried to place his face, but failed miserably. “So you say we graduated together?”
    While I mostly kept to myself in my high school days, it wasn’t only due to the fact that I was a witch, but also because I did broody-Goth-rejected-from-society like a champ. I saw it on a show I’d watched and decided I had no real identity. Nothing people would remember me for. Like a signature label that said, “Hey, remember Stevie Cartwright? She always used to wear black clothes and matching black lipstick and we all thought she was part of a satanic cult?”
    I thought it made me dark and mysterious, when I suppose it just made me look like a good portion of Seattle’s youth.
    “Yep. We were in the same English class our senior year. Remember Mr. Stowe?”
    “A trip down memory lane. How quaint,” Winterbottom muttered in my ear.
    I ignored him, and the fact that he was a traveling ghost, unfettered by the usual hurdles ghosts encounter. Like moving from place to place without some object to tether them. I also continued to ignore the fact that he could communicate with