Magic Misled (Lizzie Grace #7) - Keri Arthur Page 0,52
a couple of days, but didn’t glean much more other than confirmation he was one of the men responsible for the storage unit break-in. Which made it rather odd that I wasn’t getting any information about his accomplice. Did he not know? I was tempted to push back further into his memories, but the ambulance had swung into the street and now sped toward me. I released the chain, rose to wave them down, then stepped back as they stopped.
The first medic grabbed her gear, then walked toward me. “What happened?”
I gave her a quick rundown, then got out of their way as they began administering help. The sound of footsteps had me looking around.
Jaz stopped beside me. “He’s alive?”
The medic nodded. “Strong heartbeat and no immediately obvious signs of major trauma. We’ll do a spinal and neck brace and take him to the hospital for tests.”
“Tell them we’ll have someone there shortly.” Jaz’s gaze rose to the balcony. “Did he leave anything upstairs?”
“He threw a flashlight at me. Other than that, I don’t think so.”
“Let’s head up and grab it. He’s wearing gloves, so there’s no point in dusting for fingerprints on the door.” She got her phone out. “You can tell me what happened on the way.”
I did so and then added, “You wouldn’t happen to know a motel that matches what I saw in his mind, do you?”
“Offhand, no.”
“That’s inconvenient.”
A smile touched her lips. “It does at least stop you haring off to investigate it, now, doesn’t it?”
I raised an eyebrow. “How long have you known me?”
“Lizzie, be sensible—you’re not a ranger—”
“No, I’m not, so if I find anything, I’ll call.”
“You know full well Aiden wouldn’t—”
“I don’t run my life around what he might and might not approve, Jaz.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it.”
I touched her arm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bite.”
“I know.” She squeezed my hand, then bagged the flashlight, checked both the door and the balcony for any other evidence, and left.
I immediately reached out for Belle.
I take it there’s a problem? came her response.
Attempted break-in at the café and the possibility you’re being followed.
Well, fuck. She paused. Likelihood of it being connected to the attempts at the storage unit?
Our would-be thief is one of the two involved, which means your tracker is likely the other. Keep an eye on things when you’re coming home, just in case they attempt something direct.
Mom can scan everyone we pass while I drive.
Meaning anyone intending ill might well find themselves either not remembering what they were doing or suddenly going in the wrong direction. Before I head to Aiden’s, I’ll extend the protections around the café to prevent unwanted human entry upstairs.
It wasn’t practical to do the whole building, especially when the wild magic was doing weird things to my spells. The last thing we needed was to have customers suddenly being ejected from the café.
Would it be possible to weave in a tracker? Belle asked. That way, we’re covered if they make a second attempt when none of us are there.
I have no idea, but there’s no harm in trying. Something Monty would have no doubt disagreed with had he been part of the conversation, given his constant warnings about the dangers of not playing by the spell “rules.” Enjoy the rest of your meal.
I’ve crème brûlée coming, so I most certainly will.
Envious, I said, then broke the connection. After making sure the sliding door was locked, I went down to the reading room to weave the new exceptions into the already ponderous layers of spells that protected this place. It took a while and left me more tired than normal, but at least I could rest easier knowing Belle and her mom were protected from any further attacks.
I grabbed a brownie slice out of the fridge and munched on that while I googled motels in and around Castle Rock. There was at least twenty, but only two resembled the images I’d caught in the thief’s mind. I rang Monty, but the call flicked over to his answering service. I didn’t bother leaving a message and rang Ashworth instead.
“Lizzie,” he said, the Scottish brogue in his voice deeper than usual. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?”
I smiled. He’d been away for nearly a week, working a case for the Regional Witch Association. He and Eli—his husband—had obviously been celebrating his return with a drink or two.