sit down.” I crowded him toward the living room again. Alfred out of Drew’s sight seemed like a good idea.
He perched on the sofa but sat sideways so he could see both the kitchen doorway and the living room.
“I’m a witch,” I confessed. I didn’t know how much Drew knew about the supernatural, but I wasn’t volunteering any more information than that.
"William was a necromancer. He had Alfred and Penny ask me to take him. I’ve yet to figure out what I’m going to do with him, but for the moment he’s my responsibility."
“Is there anything about his death you can tell me?”
“His widow thinks a witch hunter killed him.” I watched his reaction to see if I could tell that he’d heard of witch hunters.
He blinked several times. “That lines up with what I heard.”
“What did you hear?”
His face was impassive. “Just that there might be an active hunter in the area. Do you know of any witches moving into the area recently?”
“Besides me?”
We both laughed, and he didn’t repeat the question luckily. I didn’t want to tell him about Owen. Not yet. Not until I had a better read on the situation.
He stared at me, waiting on an answer to his question. I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t been in town long enough to know who is new in town. I haven’t even checked in with the local coven.”
“Why is that?”
I worked my jaw and thought of all the ways I could write him into one of my books. I just couldn’t make up my mind if he’d be a hero or villain. “I don’t plan to stay. My life is in Philly.”
I frowned hearing those words leave my mouth sending an uneasy sensation through me. Because my life and my heart had died in Philly.
Chapter Twelve
Sunday passed like a dream. I didn’t leave home, which was amazing. No construction noises waking me up or disturbing my writing. Alfred puttered around cleaning and tidying. I tried to stop him a few times, but he kept waving me off. I left him to it and chuckled every time he walked past my office, because a few seconds later, Snooze would follow. The large grey Maine coon actually hopped happily along behind the ghoul. It was the craziest thing. I was beginning to think the cat liked Alfred more than me.
Even with them occasionally distracting me, I got a lot written. By the time I went to work on Monday, I’d knocked out three chapters and felt like a real author for the first time in years. Waltzing into the bookstore, I greeted Clint with a huge smile. “Morning,” I chirped.
He arched an eyebrow at me. “What’s got you all chipper? Did you get some?”
I burst out laughing. As if. “No, but my character did. That’s close enough isn’t it?”
The laptop clacked as he shut the lid. “That’s not nearly close enough. We should find you a date.”
“Oh, no. Thanks but no thanks. My husband has been gone for five years, but I can’t imagine opening myself up like that again.” I put my purse under the counter and grabbed the coffee pot. “Thanks for the fresh pot.”
As I poured my coffee, I realized that I spoke about Clay’s death out loud without a crippling ache in my chest. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?
“Pour me one, please,” he requested as he set his travel mug on the counter.
“Sure” I brought the pot over and filled his mug. Our little coffee corner, as I liked to call it was nice. It had a full display of regular and decaf coffee pots, sugar packets and creamer. There was even a carafe with milk for those who like it in their coffee. The only thing the little corner of the shop was missing was pastries. “What’s the plan today?” I asked as I replaced the pot at the station.
“Actually, I need to go get my hair cut. I usually have to finagle an early or late appointment from my barber because we keep the same hours at our shops. Would you mind?”
I shook my head. “Of course not. I’m good with the register and if I have any questions, I can text you.”
He beamed as I handed him the coffee. “You’re a peach. I’m going to enjoy the experience, so don’t expect me to rush back.” As Clint slipped past me and grabbed his keys from under the counter, I waved at him.
“Don’t think twice about this place. I gotchu!”
He stopped at the door.