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  A Witch Too Late

  M.E. Harmon and Paula Lester

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Harmon and Lester

  Copyright © 2019

  Crystalspringsmystery.meharmon.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitious.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Free Book

  Chapter 1

  “Nifty, nifty—life begins at fifty,” Cascade Lorne sang as she brushed paint onto the wall of her entryway. The big five-oh was only a few days away. It was another birthday, but it felt like a looming, hairy beast waiting to pounce.

  Fifty! How in the world did that happen?

  Just yesterday, she was graduating from college and planning for her wedding. She hopped down from the step ladder and backed up a couple of steps to survey her work.

  Lordy, Sterling would have hated this color. The thought of the disgusted expression on her ex-husband’s face made Cas burst into a fit of giggles. The idea of him hating the entryway’s new color delighted her. Boy, he would hate her plans for the rest of the house.

  The freedom to make her own decisions, even about something as simple as a paint color, made Cascade bask in the bright choice even more.

  Divorce. To put it simply, divorce sucked eggs.

  Deep down, she still had a flicker of love for her ex-husband. Sterling had been a risk taker. He’d loved taking life by the horns and wrestling it to the ground. Once upon a time, that had been alluring and sexy to Cascade.

  Before they’d met, life had been one disappointment after another for her. She’d been a scared little girl. Sterling had been the spark that had woken her up to live—to strive.

  The last ten years flashed back to her in a rush. She grimaced. He had changed so radically, almost overnight. To be fair, she had evolved too. But for Sterling, it had been as if a vampire had sucked all the wonderful vividness out of him, leaving behind a bland shell of a man.

  Yeah, he would hate this color, Cascade decided with a nod. Hopefully he wasn’t in some casino somewhere, losing all his money. Addiction was the monster that changed her husband.

  Cas turned in a circle. Every inch of boring old beige would be replaced with bright décor. If she was going to be fifty and single, Cas was going to start doing things her way. Determined, Cascade looked around for the second gallon of paint she’d bought. It had to be there somewhere. The loud jangle of the doorbell made Cas jump.

  She opened the door to find her neighbor, Mr. Percy, standing there holding the very paint can she’d been looking for. Sitting next to him was his little dog, a West Highland White Terrier with short legs, a lolling tongue, and a sweetly wagging stub of a tail.

  “Hi there, Cassie! I saw this in your driveway while I was walking Demon past your house. Thought you might need it.” Smiling, he held the can out.

  Cas felt a surge of annoyance at his use of the nickname she never went by. Then she groaned while eyeing the can. The game her strange neighbor liked to play was about to begin.

  It was hard to tell exactly how old Percy was. He was of average height with light brown hair that had begun to creep away from his hairline. Sometimes he seemed healthy and a little on the plump side. Other times, he appeared haggard, as if he’d suddenly lost twenty pounds due to illness.

  Overall, he was a nice enough fellow, always coming over and offering to do various tasks, even before Sterling moved out. But Cascade swore he always made an excuse to touch her. It was never anything overtly inappropriate but always enough to be a little unsettling.

  Sterling had laughed off her concerns. So what if some people were naturally a little touchy-feely? She was being silly. As long Percy didn’t cross the line, she should ignore him.

  Percy continued to dangle the can in the space between them. With a sigh Cascade hoped wasn’t too loud, she reached out. “Why, thank you, Mr. Percy. I was looking for that.”

  In the instant her palm wrapped around the metal handle, his grip shifted enough for his fingers to brush against hers. For the span of a heartbeat, they indulged in a mini tug-o-war for the paint can.

  TBefore the moment could become truly awkward, Mr. Percy released his hostage. “No trouble at all, no trouble at all,” he said with a smile wide enough to show off small but perfect white teeth. He bounced up on his toes a bit and peered over her shoulder, as if hankering for an invitation inside.

  When it was clear he wasn’t going to make a move to leave, Cascade decided to embrace the moment.

  “Um, this is good timing.” She put the can down beside the front door to keep it from closing. “I could use some fresh air and a little sunshine. The house is filled with paint fumes. C’mon, I’ll stroll with you and Demon to the sidewalk.”

  Cas crossed over the threshold and suddenly felt as if someone had tied bags of sand to her limbs. Goodness, where had all her energy gone? She covered her mouth and yawned.

  “Getting enough sleep these days?” Mr. Percy averted his eyes and developed a sudden interest in the rose bush next to Cascade’s front porch.

  “I thought so, but maybe not. I feel so lethargic all of a sudden.” She moved past Mr. Percy, being careful not to touch him, and paused until he got the hint and fell in step next to her.

  They slowed on the sidewalk in front of her house. The weather was still summer-like, but Cascade could feel the sly hint of crispness underneath the warm breeze.

  Her neighborhood was a suburb that had sprouted up around Crystal Springs, a major tourist hotspot. The homes here were eclectic. Some were two-story colonials while others were one-level ranches. Cas’ house was sort of in between—a cozy split level with brown bricks on the bottom and green siding on the upper story. She kept the grass in front edged, and trimmings from her mother’s rose bushes had rooted and blossomed strong and healthy.

  She arched her back and bent down to give Demon a scratch. The dog lavished in the attention and rolled over to put her tummy in easy reach. Cas couldn’t fathom why Percy had named this sweet, fluffy little thing such a strange name. She thought Angel suited her much better.

  Mr. Percy chose the same moment to pet his dog, resulting in another brushing of hands.

  “Have you noticed a woman hanging around the neighborhood a lot lately, Mr. Percy?” Cas asked, drawing her hand back and taking a tiny half-step away. “I keep seeing her over and over. She has long, auburn hair, with an average build and about my height. She looks out of place somehow.”

  “Out of place like she’s lost?”

  Cassie shook her head. “No, not exactly. I guess it’s just a feeling I have. Her clothes are a little dated, but I’m no fashion goddess myself.” Cas laughed, but Mr. Percy’s lips turned downward and his forehead creased.

  Cas hurried
on. “Sometimes I see her walking around the neighborhood, or every once in a while, when I’m bringing in groceries or something, I’ll catch her staring right at me from across the street. She seems...sad somehow.”

  Mr. Percy scanned up and down the block as if the woman would appear like a specter. “If you think she’s up to no good, we should call the sheriff’s office and make a report.”

  “No, no. It’s not that serious. She’s probably just moved to the neighborhood or something.” Actually, Cas had had the uncomfortable feeling that the woman was following or watching her. She shivered at the thought but brushed it aside. Who would want to watch her? She wasn’t interesting in the slightest.

  “Well, I can’t say as if I’ve seen anyone like that. But it sure seems like people are moving in and out of our neighborhood at record speed lately,” Mr. Percy said while ignoring Demon’s attempt to chase a squirrel. The little dog yapped and jumped up and down at the end of her leash.

  “I’ve noticed that too. I think it must have something to do with the new auto paint production company outside of town. It’s putting Carlson’s, the small paint company here, out of business. Probably some people are losing their jobs and moving on out while others are getting hired by the new place and moving in.” At least that was the only logical hypothesis Cas could come up with.

  “True, true. You’re probably right about that. Do you need any help with your painting project?”

  The abrupt change of subject jarred Cas, and she stammered a little. “Uh, n . . . no, I’ll be fine. It’s my entryway walls right now, so it’s a small space. It’s the edging that I hate most, and I’m done with that part. It sure did make me feel tired, though.” She stifled another yawn and Mr. Percy’s lips twitched upward a little.

  It wasn’t quite a smile. No, it was more of a smirk. Did she say something smirk-worthy? What an odd man. She had half a mind to ask about it when a truck rumbled around the corner.

  They both turned to watch as a white Chevy Silverado pulled into the driveway of the house to the west of Cas’. “Huh. Another new person,” Mr. Percy mused.

  “He moved in a couple of days ago. Seems really nice, but I haven’t talked to him yet or anything.”

  Their new neighbor had to be about 5’11—tall but not too tall for Cas’ taste. Dark stubble dotted his cheeks, but he was the kind of man who made five o’clock shadow look downright sexy. He maneuvered out of the truck but went around to grab something from the passenger seat. It gave Cas a nice, long look at his rear view. The guy was slim but still managed to fill out his black t-shirt in all the right places.

  In fact, she was still staring at all his assets when he turned around and waved at them.

  They both waved back, but Mr. Percy made a disgruntled noise under his breath. “He looks like a pretty boy to me,” he said. “One of those guys who gets by on his looks and doesn’t actually know how to do any real work. He’s probably an executive at that new auto paint plant. I bet he sits in a big, cushy office chair all day with his feet up, planning golf outings and sending his secretary for coffee every twenty minutes.”

  Wish I was his secretary, Cas thought, but aloud she said, “Why, Mr. Percy, how could you know all that from just looking at the man? He seems perfectly cheerful and kind to me.” Cas was a little shocked at the vehemence in her neighbor’s voice, and she allowed a mild reproachful tone to creep into her own.

  Maybe he’d been bullied by guys who looked like Hottie McHotterson before. She laughed to herself about the nickname. Her new neighbor was hot, and she was single now. She found herself enjoying the feeling of being interested in a man who wasn’t Sterling.

  “Well, I’m a good judge of character is all. I can tell a lot about a person by how they carry themselves, and I don’t think I like the new neighbor. If I were you, I’d keep him at arm’s length.” Mr. Percy crinkled his nose.

  It was Mr. Percy who Cas wanted to keep at arm’s length. She tried not to stare but couldn’t help herself as Hottie opened his front door. Yeah, it would be nice to get closer to him. But would a guy like that be into a woman like her? Did men her age desire women her age?

  Thanks to yoga, she was in fantastic shape. She could use a hair trim though. Her russet-brown locks were past her shoulders, way longer than Cas preferred.

  Mr. Percy cleared his throat. With a small sigh and a last lingering look, she turned back to him. He was touching her again.

  Percy patted Cas’ shoulder. “I have to get going now, Cassie. Demon here needs to finish her business. You take care. And if you change your mind about wanting help with the painting, you just call me up, and I’ll come right over.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Percy. I will. You and Demon have a good evening.”

  Cas’ eyes wandered to Hottie’s house as she headed back toward her own front door.

  Maybe she should bake something for him. A welcome to the neighborhood peach pie or something. Or a lasagna. Something too big for him to eat by himself. Lasagna and pie, with garlic bread and salad too. And wine. He’d have to invite her to join him, wouldn’t he? He couldn’t eat all that food alone. Unless he wasn’t by himself. Or interested in women. Oh, please be single and straight, Hottie McHotterson!

  But bringing over food would be too obvious, wouldn’t it? The thought made her deflate. Cascade imagined every single woman within fifty miles stopping by with a casserole dish in hand. She couldn’t just throw herself at him like that. What did women do nowadays? Text?

  When she’d still been married, Cas had daydreamed about having a hot date with some gorgeous man who was totally into her. But since the divorce, she hadn’t exactly jumped back into dating. She’d gone online and looked at some of the dating websites. But she didn’t even have the nerve to download the current popular dating app. The idea of strange men judging her based on a stupid picture made her cringe.

  She yawned again as she reached her door and pushed it open. Maybe all this stressing out about dating was making her so darn tired. Cas really was exhausted all of a sudden, but that entryway wasn’t going to paint itself.

  She chuckled at the idea of bringing a bottle of red to Hottie’s house. That wouldn’t be happening tonight but speaking of wine—she’d welcome a glass right now.

  Cascade brought a glass of merlot back to the entryway. Wine was truly divine—a few sips and she was starting to get her second wind. But the drop in energy had been strange. Maybe she was coming down with something. She made a mental note to take some vitamin C before bed, just in case.

  Cas hummed to herself as she poured more paint into the pan. She had just picked up the brush when the doorbell rang again. “Grand Central Station around here today.” Feeling mildly irritated at a new interruption, Cas plopped the paintbrush down, wiped her hands on an old paint smock, and moved to open the door. She prayed it wasn’t Percy again. One encounter per day with Mr. Touchy was more than enough.

  For a moment, Cas didn’t know what to make of the person standing there. The visitor was . . . well, the word that came to mind was small. Before her was an extremely short man. He couldn’t be much taller than four feet high. He was also reed-thin, which compounded his overall small vibe. Cas decided that the green tinge of his skin must be a trick of the evening light. He had yellow hair—not blond, but actually yellow. And to top it all off—Cas blinked to make sure she wasn’t going nuts—peculiar silver flecks within his ice-blue eyes seemed to twinkle.

  The man smiled up at her. “Hello, Miss! I’m from SunSprite Deliveries. Package for you. Sign here, please.”

  SunSprite? What an odd name. But, if there were such a thing as sprites, he’d be a good one.

  The funny little man held out a clipboard. As she signed her name at the bottom of the delivery form, another strange thought occurred to Cas. Maybe this was some type of practical joke. Perhaps taking whatever this guy offered was a bad idea.

  But the package already sat heavy in her hands. The delivery man pranced—yes, the little skip
-dance he did qualified as prancing—down her walkway toward his van. And the van! How did she not see that thing before! It was a bright, hot-pink monstrosity with the word SunSprite sprawled in neon green across the side.

  Yep, he was positively spritely.

  Cascade shielded her eyes from the evening sun with her hand, trying to get a better look at the strange delivery person and his vehicle.

  Movement to one side caught her eye, and there was her gorgeous neighbor again. Either it was the prancing or the blinding splash of pink, but he’d paused while unloading something from the back of his truck. He stared at the van too. Her heart fluttered when he looked toward her, and they waved at each other again.

  Despite looking as if it could be part of a crazy LSD trip, the van drove off normally enough. It didn’t sprout wings and fly, as she’d half expected it to.

  Retreating back into her house, Cas took a sip of wine and turned her attention toward the heavy package. It was addressed, in neat cursive letters, to Miss Cascade North.

  How strange. North was her maiden name. She hadn’t used that in over 25 years.

  The package was a rectangular box wrapped in plain brown paper. It was easy to open, and she soon found herself gazing at a smooth, fist-sized, oval-shaped river rock with ebony glyphs etched into it.

  What in the world?

  She picked up the rock to get a closer look. It was warm, like a person’s skin. Milliseconds later, a cacophony of sound, lights, smells, and tastes accosted her all at once. It seemed like she could hear everything: leaves rustling in the trees outside, neighbors speaking in their homes, crickets in the grass, the burning pilot light in the oven, her own heartbeat, and the heartbeats of a hundred other people.

  Bright colors erupted in front of Cas’ eyes, as if a million fireworks had exploded and filled her vision with a kaleidoscope of hues she never knew existed. With each passing shade, a flavor erupted in her mouth. Suddenly, blue had a taste and so did emerald green, sparkling white, ebony, magenta, lilac, and so many more.

  And the scents! It was all and nothing. Fresh bread and flowers, honey baked ham and ginger-bread, sweet spices, burning rubber, sour fruits, and crushed boysenberries. It was like sensing everything she’d come across in life all at once.