The Witch’s Grave by Shirley Damsgaard

wasn’t much calmer. Cops crawled all over my cottage, looking for evidence.
    My first call had been to Bill, my second to Darci to please come and pick up a wide-eyed Tink and get her out of harm’s way, and my third was to Abby. Darci had evidently broken every traffic law to arrive at my house in record time. Even though I could see that she hated missing out on the excitement, she packed up Tink and tried to overcome Tink’s reluctance at leaving with promises of homemade banana splits waiting for them at her house.
    While I sat on the couch in the living room with Lady curled up at my feet and Queenie resting on the back, Abby bustled around in the kitchen making tea. Ha—tonight I had no intention of drinking any, no matter what she said. I didn’t need Abby’s home remedies floating around my system.
    Bill sat on the other side of the coffee table in a wing-back chair, and, at the moment, didn’t look too pleased with me.
    “Now do you believe me?” he asked in a taut voice.
    “Believe what?” Abby asked entering the living room. She carried a tray full of steaming cups. After offering a cup to Bill, she held the tray toward me.
    “No thanks,” I said, giving her a knowing look.
    An expression of innocence flashed in her green eyes, but I wasn’t buying it. I shook my head and waved the tray away.
    Turning back to Bill, she said, “I’ll take the men in Ophelia’s office some tea, and when I return, I want an answer to my question.”
    After watching her leave over his shoulder, he focused his attention back on me. “You didn’t tell her?”
    “No, I didn’t want her to worry.”
    “Not telling her wasn’t smart,” he said with a frown. Pulling out his notebook, he flipped it open and removed a pen from his shirt pocket. “Tell me everything that happened today.”
    I held up a hand. “Wait a second. I don’t want to sound snitty,” I said carefully, “but I live within the city limits of Summerset, and this isn’t your jurisdiction. Why isn’t one of the police questioning me?”
    Bill’s hand stole to his head and he gave it a quick rub. He looked exasperated. “I’m doing the chief a favor while he’s on vacation. These officers are new—they haven’t even been to the academy yet—so Tom asked me to cover anything unusual while he’s gone.” He poised his pen over the notebook. “And residents getting shot while standing in their backyard is definitely unusual.” Giving the pen a click, he rolled his shoulders like a wrestler going into the ring. “Any more questions?”
    “No.” I tucked my feet underneath me and waited.
    “Let’s start with the shooting.” He glanced down at his notebook. “Your call came in at 11:45, so the shooting happened after eleven-thirty. Are you normally outside that time of night?”
    “Of course not,” I huffed. “I’m usually fast asleep in my bed.”
    “What was different tonight?”
    “I’d been doing a little…ah…work in my office, and—”
    “Were the lights on in your office?” he asked, cutting me off. “Could you be seen through the window?”
    I thought about it. Someone could have watched me while I sat at the desk, but I wouldn’t have been visible sitting on the floor with my runes. Did I want to try and explain that one? No.
    “Yes, the lights were on and, yes, I suppose someone would’ve been able to see me most of the time.”
    I felt a little shiver at the idea of being watched in my own home.
    “So you finished working and went outside.” Bill scribbled in his notebook then looked up. “Why?”
    I focused on a spot over his shoulder. “Um, well, I needed some fresh air before I went to bed.”
    “How long were you outside before the gunshot?”
    “Not long—no more than ten minutes.”
    “What happened next?”
    “I’d started to walk back to the house when a dog barked. It startled me and I dropped something—”
    He didn’t let me finish. “What did you drop?”
    Just then Abby came