How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss Book 2) by Willow Mason (great novels txt) 📕

“Who replaced the windshield?” Jared asked, running his hand over the intact glass.

“My dad fixed it up along with the dent from the…” Pru swallowed with effort. “The power pole. He was a panel beater.”

Jared opened the driver’s side door, releasing a waft of stale air. A chemical tang made my nose twitch and a matching wince told me his sensitive nose wasn’t enjoying the odour.

“Can you…?” I shrugged, feeling awkward with Pru standing so close by. “Smell anything?”

He shook his head while Patrick took photographs of the interior, blinding us in flashes. “The seatbelt seems intact,” he commented, sitting in the driver’s seat to get a better view. “Or did your dad fix that too?”

“Just the outside.”

I stepped back as Patrick unleashed the power of the flashbulb on the inside of the car. Jared ran a hand along the paintwork of the front bumper. “He did a nice job.”

Nice but pointless. It must have been hard to go from the anticipation of walking his daughter down the aisle to repairing the vehicle that claimed her fiancé’s life. Not a milestone any father wants to mark.

“You said Andrew was up for a promotion?” I walked outside the garage, needing a breath of fresh air to blow my maudlin thoughts away. “What was his job?”

“Oh, some stupid title. Applied learning specialist or something like that.”

I could hear the air quotes in Pru’s voice, even though her arms stayed tightly folded. “But he was trying for a higher position?”

“Team manager.” A faint smile ran across Pru’s lips, disappearing as she stepped forward in alarm. “Don’t touch that!”

Jared shot her a guilty expression as he replaced a water blaster into its designated area. “Sorry.”

Pru’s anxiety was so palpable I could feel it worming its way into my nerve endings, tightening them until I had to cross my arms, too. We stood, shoulder to shoulder, like sentries guarding treasure.

“There’s medication in the glove box,” Patrick said as he emerged from the vehicle, his appetite for photographs temporarily sated. “Did he take it often?”

Pru took it from his hand, running her thumb lightly over the label. “It’s omeprazole, for stomach acid. He’d be fine for months, then when he got in a tizzy over something, his reflux would act up.” She sighed and handed it back to Patrick. “I thought he had an ulcer a dozen times, but the internal cameras never found anything. Just put it back where you found it.”

“I think it might’ve passed its expiry date.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not that it matters since nobody’s taking it any longer.”

“Did the promotion at work mean a lot to him, then?”

Pru stared at me as though I’d spoken in a foreign language. Finally, she shook her head. “Of course, it meant a lot. Extra pay was always welcome, and it meant he could get a look-in at the next position he wanted.”

“Must have been stressful.”

Patrick’s comment earned a wry smile. “Yeah. Not as stressful as him driving straight into a pole.”

Jared picked up the tarpaulin, shaking it out. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything more here,” he said, jerking his chin at the opposite corner.

I helped him cover the vehicle again, feeling like I was spreading soil on top of a coffin. If the car belonged to me, I wouldn’t learn to drive either. The oppressive knowledge of what had happened to the last occupant would stick fast.

As if reading my thoughts, Pru rubbed the back of her neck and shivered. “I should’ve sold the stupid thing or given it away. It wasn’t like I needed the money.”

“Didn’t Andrew have life insurance?”

Patrick dropped right out of the favourite’s ranking. “Far more than I’d need to murder him if I felt inclined, since that’s what you’re implying,” Pru snapped. “But I didn’t kill him.”

“We’re not implying anything,” I said sternly, fixing Patrick with a hard stare.

“Investigations are mainly a way to rule things out,” he offered with a suitably chastened grin. “Please don’t take anything to heart.”

“Those tools don’t seem to get a lot of use,” Jared said with a last wistful glance as he pressed the button to lower the door. “Would you mind if I—”

“They’re Andrew’s.” Pru’s voice was sharp with tears. “Nobody else gets to touch them. That’s the way it was when he was alive and it’s the way it is now.”

“I’m sorry,” Patrick said as she walked us stiffly back towards the house, pausing at the back door. “We just seem to be upsetting you. Please understand it’s not our intention.”

“Oh, it’s not you. It’s Andrew’s change. The mess he made of the dining room. It’s—” She broke off, stifling a sob against the back of her hand. “This place. I hate the way it feels, now.”

“You should get away for a few days.” Patrick jerked his chin towards his waiting vehicle. “Come home with us and Desi will put you up in a room for a few nights. Probably safest until we sort out what’s going wrong with your fiancé.”

I thought she would decline. Accepting the offer didn’t seem in keeping with Pru’s personality type at all. But the day was full of surprises.

“That would be fantastic,” she said in a small voice. “If you’re sure.”

“Of course, we’re sure,” Patrick said while I was still coming to terms with the offer. “Grab whatever you need, and we’ll head straight there.”

Pru stared at the closed door and the keys in her hand. “Come on, then,” she said, stuffing them into her pocket. “This place has nothing I need.”

Chapter Nine

Annalisa tilted her head to the side to keep her crown aloft, sticking her long tongue out to worry the chain around her right paw. <Although I was born for greatness, I’m not sure royalty needs to wear this many trinkets.>

“That’s nothing,” Wendy said. “You should see the crown jewels. They have rows and rows of all sorts of shiny stuff, made with the biggest stones you’ve ever seen.”

<If you can’t handle the jewellery,> Paisley interrupted, <then I’m