Witcher Upper - Amy Boyles Page 0,32
you don’t get out here and start making this renovation look like it’s supposed to, the deal’s off. I’ll find someone else to do the job.”
I headed toward my truck. “Dooley, now don’t you go being all hotheaded. What would Dottie say?”
“She’d say that I needed to stop bringing you peaches.”
“That hurts.” I opened the truck door and got inside. “Listen, I’m coming right now. I’ll be there ASAP, and I’ll make sure everything gets done.”
“You’d better,” Dooley snapped. “Or like I said, deal’s off.”
I hung up and sat a moment, staring out the windshield at Peach Street. It was all too much—Sadie’s death, the debt and now Dooley threatening to yank his business. Losing this job was the last thing that I needed to happen.
As the world crashed down on me, I pressed my head to the steering wheel, and this time I didn’t stop the tears from spilling. I let them come in great heaping waves, let them stream down my face and chin, falling onto the steering wheel.
After a few minutes they stopped. I glanced in the rearview mirror. My nose and the wells of my eyes were puffy and I knew a headache would come on, so I opened my purse and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen that I kept inside. I’d tossed it in there when we started working with Dooley and all the headaches he’d given me.
I found an old water bottle on the floorboard. About an inch of liquid sat in the bottom. Even though it was a few days old, I didn’t care. It made the pills slide down easier.
I exhaled and cranked the engine, going through all the things that I needed to do before heading out to the barn. Lady had to be let out, and I needed to grab my tool belt from the house. But time was a commodity that I couldn’t spare much of.
A tap came from the passenger window. Rufus motioned for me to roll it down. Since my truck had been built before the invention of electric windows, I slid over and cranked it by hand.
“Hey,” I said.
“Do you need my help?” he asked, raking his fingers through his hair.
“Help renovating a barn? What are you going to wear—those leather pants?”
He shrugged. “Until I purchase another pair, yes.”
“You don’t have any money.”
“Then how about I earn my keep? At least for one day?”
I drummed my fingers on the dash. “What are my other options?”
“I’m afraid there aren’t any. I can continue to search for the memory spell. In fact, that’s what I should be doing right now. Never mind, I rescind my offer to assist you in anything manual.”
Great flaming peas! “Okay,” I shouted after him. “You win. Come on.”
I opened the door, and he slid inside, a satisfied smirk on his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I said through gritted teeth.
His back sank onto the seat. “Ah, but you wouldn’t want me to raise a load of spells in perfect daylight—not where people such as the fine normal folks of this town can see them.”
“Exactly.”
He chuckled, clearly amused by what I’d said.
I eased the truck onto the road. “What’s so funny?”
“Other than the fact that I think you’ll find this town more surprising than you previously believed? Nothing.”
“I don’t know why you think there is anything magical about this town. Yes, you discovered some spells out in the woods. Those could have been left by anybody.”
He nodded. “Of course they could have.”
“And yes, there is some sort of wizard mafia, but that doesn’t mean Sadie realized they were wizards.”
“Of course not.”
I gave him a sidelong glance and noticed that Rufus looked entirely too comfortable in my truck. He relaxed beside me as if he owned it. I bristled in silence.
When we arrived at my house, I parked the truck and started to hop out. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, and don’t look for spells.”
His brows stitched together in mock hurt. “My lady, when I give my word about something, I mean it. I said I would not search for spells at the moment, and I won’t.”
“Huh.” Without another word and ignoring the fact that Rufus called me my lady, I sprinted up the steps and into the house. Lady was waiting for me by the door. I let her out to roam the front yard and headed into my bedroom.
Like most closets in older homes, mine was small, which meant it had to be immaculately organized. Otherwise it