Home for a Spell

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Book: Home for a Spell Read Online Free PDF
Author: Madelyn Alt
would certainly be a definitive example of kismet. One for the books, even. I told her about Lou’s timely email. “I’m just waiting to hear back from him—” Right on cue, my cell phone vibrated like a hive full of distressed bees on the antique wooden countertop. “Ooh . ” I grabbed it. The display panel on the front read Uncle Lou. Excited, I flipped it open and lifted it to my ear. “Hiya! So, what’s the verdict? Did he have anything? No biggie if he didn’t, I’m probably getting ahead of myself here. I know these things don’t grow on trees around these parts, and—”
    “Uh, Maggie? Can I cut in here a minute? Because I have two minutes to get to my last class of the day.”
    Heh. Verbal incontinence again. Oops. “Sure.”
    “My guy—Rob Locke—he says he does have something that might work for you. Should I stop by, pick you up, let you take a look-see?”
    “Yes, please,” I said, trying to be concise. For his sake. “If you don’t mind.”
    “No trouble at all. School lets out at three-oh-five. I need to take care of a couple small things, but I should be down your way before four.”
    “Great, see you then!” Maybe it wasn’t time to back down quite yet after all.
     
     
    Liss promised to cat-sit Minnie for the evening so that I didn’t have to worry about dragging her around town, and it was a good thing, too, since Big Lou happened to own one of the miniature ecofriendly cars that looked like it might be comfortable for seating a hobbit. I quickly disguised the skepticism that made my brow shoot straight up as I considered whether such a miniscule vehicle could possibly have room enough for one barrel-chested Irish American, let alone one big man, one medium-sized woman, and a massively large, brilliantly yellow fiberglass cast. Adding a cat into the mix, even in a soft-sided carrier, was bound to be trouble. I gave Minnie a kiss between the ears and a back scratch, telling her I’d see her later. The twitch of her black tail as she turned and presented her behind to me before nonchalantly padding away told me just how concerned she was.
    An old-fashioned kind of guy, Lou helped me into the small car—that must be where Marcus got the endearing habit—and within moments we were off, tootling across town in our goofy-looking chariot, making small talk that was just a little on the uncomfortable side of things because we had never been one-on-one together before today. It wasn’t as awkward as I had feared, though. Get Lou talking on all things high school, and there was no opportunity for embarrassing silences. Quite handy, that trait.
    The apartment complex proved to be in the older, southern end of town, over the Bolander bridge and south of the river. In fact, it was no more than five blocks from Marcus’s little Craftsman bungalow. It was an older complex, seventies-tastic in so-called architectural style, a typical two-up, two-down with exposed central stairs and a faux brick front. Maybe the age of the building should have scared me. It didn’t. For one thing, Lou had said something about the place being remodeled and ready for new tenants, so it was worth my time to take a look at it. And besides, Stony Mill didn’t have a whole lot of options. Beggars could not be choosers. Unless I wanted to move out of this town and to the city, which would tack on more than an additional hour of driving time each day, plus gas and wear and tear on my old VW Bug, Christine—which wouldn’t even work until this cast came off my leg anyway, which kind of made the urgency of the plan a moot point—or unless I wanted to pay a premium for the few up-to-date condos listed on Craigslist, then I would be smart to keep my worries to myself at least until I’d had a chance to see the place firsthand.
    Lou toured the parking lot in front of the row of apartment buildings so that I could see the lay of the land, then pulled up into the drive along the side road, where the office shared a
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