A Ghoulish Midlife (Witching After Forty #1) - Lia Davis Page 0,33

road and toward my house.

With Olivia’s window tint and the erratic way she was driving, I couldn’t really get a good look at the woman’s face, of course. Still no idea who she was.

I turned my attention to Owen, who was frantically trying to buckle up. “What are you doing in our car?!”

He looked even paler than usual. “I was just wondering why you were staking out my house.” Brushing his hair out of his face, he leaned forward. “Can I ask where we’re going?”

“Your house?” I asked, playing dumb. I didn’t want him to know we were there to spy on him. “You live by the lighthouse?”

“No,” he said. “I live in the lighthouse. I moved to town recently.”

“Turn around,” I told Olivia. “Get him out of here.”

She made another quick U-turn. “Do you know the woman that was at your house?” she asked as she pulled back onto the road.

He shook his head. “No, but you two were acting so strangely I didn’t have a chance to get a good look at her.”

Olivia pulled back into the lighthouse parking lot, but the woman’s car was gone. “Nice to meet you,” Owen said. He hopped lightly out of the car and sauntered toward the lighthouse.

“What the hell?” I screeched. “Take me home please!”

The entire five-minute drive back to my house, I chastised her for going after a man she didn’t know. “All of this screaming and drama happened because you were too nosey, and you got me all nosey. Now why don’t you go home right this minute and tell Sam everything that happened. Maybe he can look into this Owen guy, because I’m telling you, the guy is a witch.”

“I will,” she said with a grin. “Right away.”

She stopped at the curb at the end of my driveway. Her eyes twinkled when she rolled her window down to say goodbye. “You gotta admit, that was fun.”

I rolled my eyes and waved at her. Olivia was going to get me killed.

But I didn’t contradict her. It had been fun, dammit.

Chapter Eleven

The rest of Friday was uneventful, and I spent it going over everything that had happened the day before. I still haven’t heard back from Wallie on the witch hunter research mission I sent him on. Then again, he was pretty busy with his classes.

Today was a new day. I got to sleep in without my phone ringing or the sounds of the workers. I’d just gotten settled on my novel and was making a good pace. I’d eaten breakfast, had a shower, and was sipping my second cup of coffee.

With no plans to go anywhere or do anything but write all day, I groaned in frustration when the doorbell rang. Somehow, I knew this meant I’d not be getting back to my writing, not anytime soon, anyway.

Besides, the house was freaking out the construction workers, despite our little talk a few nights ago. Old Vicky wasn’t having any of this selling business. That was frustrating on a whole other level. I’d heard the workers talking about the house being haunted, even though I kept trying to blame things on Snoozles.

They weren’t buying it.

The house wasn’t the only thing clouding my thoughts. I had a dead friend, and speaking of, I needed to call Penny. Her poor husband had been killed, apparently, by a witch hunter, and I didn’t have the first clue what that meant for me or my wellbeing. Not to mention creepy Owen.

Sighing, I hit save on my document and jogged down the stairs.

The construction crew had taken the weekend off. They’d offered to work for overtime pay, but I’d declined. I wasn’t in that much of a rush to get back to Philly.

“Who is it?” I called through the door. I could only see someone’s outline through the frosted glass.

“Sheriff Walker.”

Oh. It was Drew. Sam’s boss. Okay. Suddenly I was glad I’d showered. I hadn’t put on makeup, but at least my hair was clean and hanging down my back instead of greasy and piled up on my head in a bun.

I unlocked and opened the door. “Please, come in. We’re renovating, so excuse the mess.”

A bump from the kitchen reminded me I hadn’t warned Alfred to stay out of sight. Surely, he knew not to let the sheriff see him.

I indicated for Drew to sit on the sofa with his back to the kitchen, so if Alfred came into view, maybe Drew would miss it.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” I asked politely.

He grinned and