Witch Slapped (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 1) by Dakota Cassidy

an incredibly delightful sense of humor. I’ll definitely give you cheeky.”
    “Ooo. Talk dirty to me,” I joked, crossing the street.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Forget it. It’s a crass American joke form an even crasser American ex-witch. Now back off and let me get my tacos made from recycled lettuce and the maw of dandelion.”
    “Is this my cue to let you have a moment to yourself?”
    My head bounced up and down as I gave my eye of the tiger to the taco truck with its candy-striped awning and fun dancing tacos wearing sombreros hand painted on the side. “It’s your cue to let me wrestle with some mystery meat and extra cheese in peace.”
    “Very well. Peace you shall have.”
    The cool/warm encompassing me, a strange yet indefinable sensation I’d felt as I talked to Win, evaporated, meaning he’d gone back to the plane he was from to let me think.
    Waving to my favorite taco vendor, I skipped to the window of his truck with one thought in mind—eating. I met Tito two days after I’d arrived back in Ebenezer Falls, and we’d been making beautiful music in my mouth together since.
    I loved his thick Spanish accent, his adorable attempts at broken English—which he had once confided he practiced often in order to get his permanent visa here in the US—his jovial smile, his generous helpings that kept me full enough to sometimes skip dinner…a blessing on my wallet.
    Thankfully, he was sans his usual long line of hungry lunch crowd. Peering up at him, I smiled.
    And Tito slammed the window shut in my face with a scowl.
    I looked at the hours on his sign and frowned. It was only three and it said he was open until ten. Standing on my tiptoes, I rapped on the window. “Hey, Tito! You’re supposed to be open until ten. I get bankers’ hours, but even bankers don’t call it a day at three.”
    Nothing but silence and the sounds of the street greeted my ears.
    So I knocked again. “Tito?”
    There was a low mumble of something, something I couldn’t distinguish. I leaned in closer, my calf muscles straining, and then I saw the top of Tito’s head, his thick, dark hair just cresting the window before falling away from my limited line of vision.
    And now I was getting angry. “Hey! I know you’re in there. I can see you! What’s the world come to if a starving woman can’t get a taco at three in the afternoon when closing time isn’t until ten, Tito?”
    And then the vendor appeared at the window, pointing his chubby finger at me in accusation. “We don’ serve murderers!”
    No bueno .

Chapter 5
    M urderer . I’d been branded a murderer. By a taco vendor, no less. Boy, did that cut deep.
    I plucked at my soggy drive-thru burger, dropping an equally soggy French fry into my mouth as Belfry munched on his apple slice in my purse, and Win reassured me one more time he would pay me back for the cab fare to wherever this 711 Samantha Lane was located.
    “I promise you,” he said. “You’ll have all the money you need if you’ll just indulge me.”
    I’d waved him out of my ear. “Reign in the sunshine. Still a little raw here, Win.”
    After that, the ride was mostly silent. Me sitting shiva at my accused murderer pity-party, Win humming some odd tune I didn’t know.
    When we pulled up to the address he’d given me, I realized my wallowing had kept me from paying attention to my surroundings. How had we gotten out here to the bluff?
    Closing my eyes, I inhaled the scent of the Sound. I loved this place. I loved the stretch of a quarter mile of nothing but trees and the occasional break in them where the mountains peeked through. I’d come here hundreds of times during my childhood, taking the two-mile bike ride from the outskirts of Ebenezer Falls right here to almost the end of our small town.
    Everyone always thought it was spooky out here, but I was a witch who talked to the dead. Naturally, not a lot spooked me. I couldn’t remember anyone ever living in the house Win claimed was