A Witch's Tale by Maralee Lowder

reading her her rights, I think I’ll just include you in there too. You don’t look so squeaky clean to me.”
    Mac had heard the words, “Y ou have the right ...” thousands of times in his life, but he had never before experienced the sensation of hearing them directed toward himself . It was an experience he would just as soon have avoided.
    But those words were nothing compared to the ones that followed.
    “Cassandra Adams, I am placing you under arrest.”
    The deputy’s voice droned on as he read Cassie her rights, but Mac stopped paying attention to what he was saying. All he could think of at that moment was Cassie. Had the entire world gone crazy, he wondered as he gazed into her frightened eyes.
     
    “You take sleaze to a new low, McCormick. ” Sheriff Whitaker spat the words out, not bothering to hide his contempt. “I’ve known reporters to pull some pretty low stunts to get a story, but sleeping with Cassie Adams just to get the inside track wins the prize.”
    He slammed Mac’s press ID onto the table, the act demonstrating his disgust.
    “You don’t understand … ” Mac started to expl ain his association with Cassie but was stopped by the expression in the Sheriff’s eyes. Mac wasn’t sure he understood his relationship with Cassie himself. How could he hope to explain it to Walt Whitaker?
    “Yeah, right. And next I suppose you’re going to tell me you don’t really work for The Inquisitor , that you’re only in town for a little rest and relaxation.”
    Mac picked up his identification. Not bothering to respond to the Sheriff’s comments, he slipped it into his pocket. What could he say? Examining the situation through the professional eyes of a law enforcement officer, what other conclusion could be expected?
    “Actually, you did the girl a favor, though I doubt that was your intention. You’ve given her an alibi for last night’s murder. I may not think much of you, but I’m inclined to believe you when you say you two spent the whole night together at her place.”
    Mac was itching to question Sheriff Whitaker about this second murder. What a scoop that would be. But the threatening expression on the man’s face warned him off.
    “Because of you, we’re letting Cass ie go, for the time being . But I’m warning you, don’t get any big ideas about taking off with her. She’s not all the way out of the woods yet.” If possible, the scowl on the Sheriff’s face deepened even further. “As far as that goes, neither are you. You stick around town yourself, you hear ?”
    “Are you telling me I’m a suspect?”
    “I’m telling you that until we get this mess so rted out, everyone’s a suspect, you included.”
                 
    “I think I’m going to be sick.”
    One look at Cassie’s sweat- covered, bleached out face had Mac searching frantically for the nearest bathroom.
    “Over here,” he said as he shoved her through the door of the men’s room. Three men in deputy uniforms gazed at the pair in astonishment.
    “Sorry, guys, but the little lady’s going to be sick. You wouldn’t want her throwing up all over your nice marble floors, would you?”
    Without a word, all three exited, one of them positioning himself at the door to warn off any other unsuspecting males.
    Too nauseated to care where she was, Cassie was grateful that she managed to hold off being sick until Mac unceremoniously shoved her into one of the bathroom stalls. Drenched in a chilling sweat and shaking uncontrollably, she was comforted by his steady hand on her brow, another supporting her back. Normally she would have been mortified for anyone to see her like this, but instead of embarrassing her, his presence comforted her, much as Myra’s had when she had been sick as a child.
    “Done?” he asked after a few moments.
    At her answering nod, he gently li fted her and guided her out of the stall and over to a sink. He dipped paper towels into cool water and wiped the sweat from