Dark Magic (Harbinger P.I. Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

lot were a variety of models, and some of them looked like they dated back to the seventies, but all of them looked lovingly maintained and cared-for, polished paintwork and chrome gleaming in the sunlight.
    In the workshop, a white Honda Civic was up on a ramp and there was a guy in dark blue coveralls beneath it, draining oil from the engine into a pan on the floor.
    The office door bore a sticker that read WELCOME . Felicity and I went inside, into a small room with an old leather sofa and a wooden coffee table weighed down by stacks of car magazines.
    A window on the back wall looked out to a junkyard full of wrecked cars and trucks. Some of the automobile remains looked like they’d been rotting out there since the sixties.
    Containers of anti-freeze, oil, and windshield washer fluid sat on a wire rack running along one wall. There was a counter at the far end of the room with a door behind it that I assumed led to the workshop. The reception area smelled of rubber, grease, and cigarette smoke. A lemon-scented car air freshener had been hung over the counter but its scent was lost among the other, stronger smells.
    The door opened and a large lady in her fifties came to the counter. She had short blond hair and wore dark blue coveralls that matched the ones worn by the mechanic beneath the Civic. Her name, June, was embroidered on the left breast in white script. Her brown eyes flickered from me to Felicity and back to me again. “What can I do for you folks today?”
    “I’ve got a beat-up Land Rover that needs fixing,” I said.
    “Sure, let’s take a look.” She came around the counter and followed us out to the dusty parking lot. Standing with her hands on her hips, she inspected the damage on the vehicle. “Looks like you drove it into a brick wall.”
    “Not me,” I said. “Someone else.”
    June’s eyes fixed on Felicity accusingly.
    “Not me either,” Felicity said defensively.
    “Well, I’m sure we can fix it for you,” June said. She turned toward the workshop and shouted, “Earl!”
    The guy who had been draining the Civic came over, wiping his hands on an oily cloth. He had close-cropped gray hair and a matching beard. His frame was wiry beneath the coveralls. “Morning,” he said, nodding at us.
    “What do you think of this?” June asked him.
    “Looks like it’s been driven into a wall.”
    “That’s what I said,” she told him.
    “Can you fix it?” I asked.
    He nodded, eyes fixed on the crumpled bodywork. “Yeah, I can fix it but I may have to order a new light. Unless I can find a Land Rover in the yard with a light that isn’t busted up.”
    “How long will it take?” I asked.
    “If I order a new light, it’ll be a couple of days. If I go searching in the yard, maybe less. Depends if I find a suitable replacement or not. If not, then I’ll need to order a new one anyway.”
    “A couple of days is fine,” I said. “Just order a new light.”
    Earl nodded. “And while we’re waiting for that to arrive, I’ll get the bodywork fixed.” He looked at me closely. “Say, ain’t you that supernatural investigator fella from town?”
    “Yeah,” I said. “I am.” I had no idea how he’d recognized me. Maybe there were so few new people in Dearmont that he was able to guess who I must be.
    “I saw your picture in the paper,” he said.
    “The paper?”
    “Yeah, it was in yesterday’s Observer . There’s an article in there with a picture of both of you. How else did you think I recognized you? I’m not psychic, I leave that to June. She has a touch of psychic power now and then.”
    “It’s a gift,” June said. “I sometimes do tarot readings for the ladies at the hair salon. I told Mary Lou Robinson that her husband was going to be in an accident and two weeks later, he’d left her for another woman. Isn’t that uncanny?”
    I wasn’t sure how she equated being in an accident with being unfaithful so I just shrugged. “Anyway, I need to be somewhere, so