Witch for Hire by N. E. Conneely Page B

friend, but she's more of a second mother." Fondness, love, curved my lips in a smile.
    Liam's eyes were locked on my face. "If you ever need a wolf's thoughts or help give me a call." He slid a business card across the table.  
    I picked it up, seeing crossed wrenches before reading Liam McNeil, mechanic, and a phone number. "I—umm, thank you. I don't feel like I earned this."
    "Call it an Irishman's whim." He smiled and they filed out of the dining room. He paused at the door, "Have a lovely afternoon, lass."  
    I carefully stored Liam's number in my phone, tidied up my apartment, and changed into jogging clothes. I took a short run, basking in the fall glory. This time of year was brief; I had to enjoy it while it was here. I'd showered, but hadn't made it out the door when my phone buzzed. "Oaks Consulting."
    "It's Jones. They couldn't find any trolls. There were signs of them living in the area, but even when they walked right over the areas the trolls should have been, they couldn't find anything."
    "Let me guess, the boss is mad that the map isn't working?"
    "No, but he wants you back here to fix the spell."
    "I'll do some research, but there's nothing wrong with the spell. They could be hiding in caves or tunnels. I'll see if there's another spell that will work. I can come up on my own time in a day or two."  
    "Thanks, Michelle. You're great."  
    "I try." I hung up the phone.  
    Great. Just great. The last thing I needed was to get in trouble because the trolls weren't were the map said they were. I knew the spell worked. It should have worked without the constriction against human blood, but now it was a better spell. The only way to improve it was to have something that belonged to each of the missing trolls. Then I could make tracking spells for specific trolls. Tomorrow, after I'd done some research, I'd call Jones with some ideas.  
    Shrugging off the worries, I headed out to the car. I had more work to do before I could have fun. Twenty minutes later, I pulled in to the Cherokee County Sheriff's Department and went inside.  
    "Hey, Rodriguez, what'd you need me for?" Rodriguez was about my age, and still had a bit of a Spanish accent from spending his first ten years in Mexico.
    "I've got some antiques, mostly junk, for you to look at." He was attractive with black hair, a classically handsome face, and lots of charm.  
    Laid out on the table were random bits of this and that. Some things were common household goods, other things less mundane. There was a set of tongs clamped onto a wooden block, a steak knife, two dinner plates, a standalone toilet paper dispenser, an office chair, a stapler, a glass vase, a pewter cup, and a wooden bowl.
    "Which one do you want me to look at first?"
    "The tongs. I just picked them up this morning. They had latched onto a nice old woman's nose at the secondhand shop. She was shopping for her granddaughter. I got there and unwound it enough to transfer it to a new object but I couldn't remove the spell. She was nice about it, but made me check everything else she was buying."  
    My smile matched his. I held my hand over the tongs to check them out. Rodriguez hadn't done a bad job, but some of what he'd done to get the tongs off the old woman's nose made it harder to remove the spell. It wasn't his fault; he was doing his job to neutralize the threat to the civilian. A few tricky minutes later, the spell was gone and the tongs were just tongs.  
    "They're normal now. Someone wanted them to hold salad without dropping any of it." I glanced over at Rodriguez; he had his head buried in his hands, stifling laughter. "Clearly, the spell was damaged. What's next?"
    "It doesn't really matter. None of them should give you trouble, but watch out for the bowl and vase."
    "Alright." I tested the steak knife next. It was spelled to be extra sharp and strong, able to cut through tile. Focusing my power through my wand, a nice sturdy oak, I slowly drained the power out of the