Drop Dead Sexy(64)

Just when I was about to eloquently respond with “oh” again, Catcher came out of the bedroom. “That was the field office. I’ve got a lead on the Granny Witch Thornhill.”

Molly’s gaze flickered between the two of us. “You’re an agent, too?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m a mortician along with being the coroner for Taylorsville.”

Her eyes widened. “That has to be the coolest job ever.”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “You really think so?”

“Yes. I’ve watched every single CSI out there. And Bones. I’m a Forensic Science major.”

“Get out of here. That was one of my majors at The University of Georgia.”

“Would you be willing to let me shadow you for one of my upcoming courses?” she asked with a hopeful expression.

“Of course you can. My town is pretty boring, but I’d be happy to go over the basics with you.”

Molly gave me a beaming smile. “Awesome.”

Catcher cleared his throat. “Um, if you two are finished bonding, Olivia and I need to get on the road.”

“We do?” I asked.

Catcher grinned. “You’ve been along for everything else. You might as well come along for this one.”

I smiled. “Okay. Where are we going?”

“About an hour from here to Ellijay.”

After glancing down at my dress, I frowned. “I’m going to need to go get my change of clothes first.”

“You go hop in the shower, and I’ll get your bag out of the car.”

“What about your shower?”

Catcher flashed me a wicked grin. “I’ll join you when I get back.”

“Um, ew. On that note, I’m out of here,” Molly said.

“Good riddance,” Catcher said. But then he pulled Molly to him and hugged her tight. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will.” After she pulled away, she kissed his cheek. “You be careful, too. Especially since you’re investigating dark shit like witches.”

Catcher laughed. “She’s not a real witch, so there won’t be any alleged ‘dark shit.’”

“I hope not.” She pulled out of Catcher’s embrace to come and hug me.

Although I was a little taken aback, it felt good that at least one member of Catcher’s family liked me. “It was nice meeting you, Olivia.”

“Same to you. And I look forward to having you come out to shadow me next semester.”

Molly smiled. “Me too.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Catcher said. He then pointed at me. “Shower.”

After giving him a salute, I said, “Yes, sir.”





After one shower quickie, Catcher and I got on the road a little after ten. We stopped for a quick lunch along the way. It was a gorgeous late February afternoon in Georgia where the weather gave a hint that springtime was just around the corner. I sat shotgun next to Catcher in his convertible. In spite of drawing my hair back into a twist, tiny strands whipped around my face from the top being down.

Although we were on official GBI business, Catcher chose to drive his convertible since it was such a pretty day. When I’d questioned if he would get in trouble, he’d merely shrugged and said, “I’ve got one of the best records in over half the Georgia field offices. Let them try to give me shit.”

So we zoomed along the interstate farther into the mountains to work on the Granny Witch lead which Zeke had given us. After Catcher and his fellow agents had done some investigating, he traced the woman to a New Age store called The Crow’s Caw on the outskirts of downtown Ellijay.

Catcher eased the convertible off the main road and into the store’s parking lot. The store was actually in an old house that looked like it had been built in the 1920’s. It had three cement stairs leading up to a wide front porch. We got out and made our way up the stairs. When Catcher opened the door for me, a bell tinkled over our heads, announcing our arrival.

From the moment I stepped inside, I was jolted into sensory overload with the different sights and sounds. An exotic drumbeat played overhead through the stereo system, and if I closed my eyes, I could also imagine being in the Caribbean. The smell of incense filled my nostrils as my gaze bounced around all the multicolored crystals.

A woman, who appeared to be in her sixties, poked her head out of a door made of beads. “Hello. Can I help you?”

“I’m not sure. We’re looking for someone called the Granny Witch,” Catcher said.

A cat-like smile filled the woman’s face. “I haven’t heard that term in a while.”

“I apologize if there is any negative connotation. You certainly don’t look like a granny or a witch to me,” Catcher said.

“That’s because I’m not.”

“Oh,” he murmured.

“I’m Jewell. The woman you wish to see is my mother.”

“Does she live close by?” Catcher asked.

Jewell nodded. “Yes. About five miles up the mountain. Just what business do you have with her?” Before Catcher could answer, she tilted her head at us and said, “Hmm, I would imagine an attractive couple like you who appear to be so in love wouldn’t need one of her love spells. Maybe something for fertility? She can get you pregnant just like this.” Jewell snapped her fingers.