Three Witches and a Killer: Wicked Western Witches Book 1 Read Online Free Page A

Shadow Crossing, though that changed quickly enough.
    Growing up, all talk of witches and magic was a forbidden subject in our house. Of course, that hadn’t detoured me one tiny bit. Every chance I got, I was visiting the aunts and learning everything I could.
    No one really understood why Fredrick Costello turned his back on his family and the gifts he was born with, but I think I knew. It was no coincidence that he’d done this on the day he brought my mother home.
    No Costello spouse had ever lived long enough to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary. If you were marrying a Costello, your wedding day kiss was the kiss of death. Dad wasn’t about to take any chance with my mother’s life, which had probably been a good thing for Day and me.
    Problem was, they’d been married almost thirty years and Mom was the same feisty southern girl she’d always been.
    Based on this new evidence, my aunts concluded that the curse was only on the Costello women.
    I had to agree. I’d been married less than two years before my husband bit the big one, although I wasn’t sure it really counted since we were technically divorced when he was zombified.
    There was rarely any vehicle traffic in the square, aside from the occasional delivery driver. I liked it that way. Living in Reno had given me a whole new appreciation for my small hometown.
    Taking the stone walkway through the town square, I contemplated the problem of approaching the Petrova family.
    I’d just passed the massive white gazebo that sat in the middle of the square when I noticed some people near the hanging tree.
    I was pretty darn sure they hadn’t been there when I’d walked through the square on my way to the public works building.
    These weren’t just people. They looked like pilgrim ghosts.
    Ghosts weren’t out of the question. It sure wouldn’t be the first time I’d come across a ghost or other odd creature in Shadow Crossing.
    Stopping abruptly, I blinked several times in an attempt to clear my vision. They were still there, and I’ll be damned if they didn’t look just as real as the hanging tree.
    There were two women and a man. The man looked to be in his sixties; the women a decade or so younger. Both the women were wearing bonnets and old-fashioned flower print dresses. The man was in a black suit and had a matching black derby on his head.
    The group appeared to be nailing something to the hanging tree.
    As I approached, the man turned from his task to stare at me. The deep wrinkles on his face did nothing to soften the chill in his icy blue eyes.
    Raising his arm, he pointed a bony finger at me. “There’s one of them!”
    The women gasped in union. It was so perfect; I was convinced they’d been practicing just for the occasion.
    “Repent Witch! The end is near!” The man bellowed.
    That’s when I noticed the sign he’d posted on the tree. It was one of those End of Days signs that crazy people in big cities liked to shove in your face.
    “You are destroying public property,” I told him, ignoring his warning of doom.
    “You will burn in the fiery Pit! Your only hope of salvation is death and acceptance of the New Light!” He went on as if I hadn’t said a word.
    He’d just threatened my soul!
    No way was that acceptable. “Okay, I’ve had enough. I’m calling the police. No one threatens my soul and gets away with it.”
    Snatching my phone from where I’d tucked it just inside my bra, I dialed Buck’s number.
    “Sheriff Hascall,” he answered.
    “Buck, you might want to get over to the hanging tree. There’s some religious nut nailing stuff to the tree, and he even threatened my soul.”
    “I’m waiting for a Coney Dog at the Caldron. I’ll be there quick as I can.”
    “Okay, hurry. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop them from ruining more public property, not without hurting them anyway.”
    “Just don’t do anything,” he said.
    “What do you mean don’t do anything … as in what?” I