Southern Bound - A Paranormal-Mystery (Max Porter Mysteries Book 1) by Stuart Jaffe

iota. Get me out of here, Max. Send this cretin packing and get me free."
    Max crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. With a shocked gasp, Drummond said, "This a joke? You won't help me? For crying out loud, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm just anxious. Please, pull out your phone, so we can have a conversation."
    The slim line of Max's mouth curled just a bit. Listening to Drummond whine had brightened his morning, and despite the pounding in his head, the aches in his muscles, or even the consistent pressure mounting on all sides, Max found the discomfort of a ghost amusing. However, the longer Drummond persisted, the more Max saw the play as cruel rather than simple teasing. "Taylor," he said. "I've got a terrible headache. Do me a favor, please, and get me some ibuprofen or something."
    "Sure, sir," Taylor said and stepped into the bathroom. "I don't see nothing here. Where else would you have them?"
    Snapping his fingers, Max said, "Oh, that's right, I must be all out. Will you please go downstairs and get me some? There's a convenience store on the street. I'm sure you'll find something in there."
    Taylor hesitated. The tug-o-war between this request and the overriding rules set out by their mutual employer battled on his face. Max sensed that Taylor was going to refuse, so he added, "Taylor, this is not a test. You're doing a fine job, okay? It'll only take you a minute, and I promise I won't tell on you. I just really need to get rid of this headache."
    "Oh, okay."
    When Taylor left the office, Drummond clapped his hands. "Well, done. You're starting to get the knack of some of this job. A few days ago, you'd never have pulled of such an easy lie like that."
    "I'm not lying. That witch of yours gave me a horrible headache."
    "You saw her, then. Great! What did she say? What do we have to do?"
    Max got out his laptop and powered up. "Taylor'll be back pretty fast and we can't have a non-stop phone conversation while he's here."
    "That's true. You're not that great a liar, yet."
    "But I can type out my answers here," he said, pointing to the laptop.
    "Fine, fine. Now before that dimwit gets back, what did the witch say?"
    "She said that you're under a binding spell."
    "Gee, really? I could have told you that."
    "Then why didn't you? From what Connor said, I gather you know a lot about witches and voodoo and all that nonsense. Why not just tell me what you need instead of sending me off into the night like that?"
    Drummond stepped closer to Max like a father trying to explain the hard choices of parenting. "I'm sorry about that, but I didn't think you'd believe me otherwise. Even though you've handled this whole ghost business very well, and I'm proud of you about that — heck, most people would've packed up and moved home already — but now we're getting into something a little harder to swallow. Ghosts is one thing. Everybody has a haunting story in their lives — friends, family, or personal experience. There's enough evidence out there to bring in enough doubt that you can accept such a thing when it's in front of your eyes. But witches? Magic spells? That's a whole lot harder to accept."
    "I suppose. I'm just sick of being everybody's pawn."
    "Help me get free from this binding spell and I promise you, I'll do all I can to get you in a better position."
    Taylor walked in carrying a paper bag. His eyes burst out at the sight of the laptop. "You-You-You can't do that in here. Please, Mr. Porter, put that away."
    "Just give me the bag," Max said, his headache winding up again at the sight of relief.
    As Taylor handed over the bag, he said, "You know you're not allowed to use that laptop in here. Please put it away. I promise I won't tell."
    Max popped two capsules in his mouth and swallowed them dry. "No," he said, savoring the moment of defiance. "You can tell Modesto or whoever you want. Go ahead. Tell him I don't care about his stupid rules anymore."
    Drummond nodded his approval. "You tell him."
    With his face