Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

In the pause that followed, her shoulders sagged.

“No, no news.” Her assumed cheer was drooping as well. “I answered some questions for them, and I guess they talked to—well, they’re talking to some other people as well. Look, Kathy, I was in the middle of trying to research something—” A pause, and she sat back up. “You do? Wow, that would be great. With everything going on, I could use some good news. Thanks.”

An hour or so later, the bell rang and Becca jumped to answer it. Despite having hosted the coven only five days earlier, she’d spent much of the time since the phone call cleaning up—as if the tufts of fur her pets had placed so carefully in the interim were something to be ashamed of.

“Kathy, come in!” Becca ushered in her guest. “I guess I should say merry meet, but…”

“Darling, don’t worry about it,” said the redhead, whose all-black outfit seemed somewhat at odds with what had become a bright spring afternoon.

“Thanks. Is that…” Becca hesitated. “Are you in mourning?”

“Of course,” said Kathy, who plumped down on the sofa right in Harriet’s spot. Clara looked around for her oldest sister, but she and Laurel had made themselves scarce, which was odd. Laurel, in particular, usually relished a chance to adorn black clothing with her lightest brown body fur. “Oh, you mean—all black?”

Becca nodded and took her usual seat, while Clara made herself comfortable on the arm rest.

“I just came from work.” Kathy shooed the word off like a pesky fly. “I want them to respect me there.”

Becca nodded again, as if this made sense to her.

“Do you have, like, a glass of wine or something?” Kathy leaned forward, her voice becoming conspiratorially soft. By force of habit, Clara looked around. Laurel had appeared in the doorway, tail up inquisitively.

“Oh, sure!” Becca retreated to rummage in the kitchen, while Clara leaped to the floor to fill her sister in.

“Something about a job,” she mewed, ever so softly, in her brown-tipped ear. “ Though I think this one wants to gossip.”

“I know that.” Laurel glanced sideways at her sister, her blue eyes looking deceptively innocent.

“Oh, look at your cats!” Kathy called into the kitchen. “They’re head-butting each other.”

“They are?” Becca appeared with the glasses and the bottle of Chardonnay she’d opened on a whim two weeks before. “Usually, they fight.”

“Cats.” The redhead reached up to take the bottle with an exaggerated shrug. “Who can tell? Anyway, I’ve been meaning to stop by and see how you were doing. I’ve been thinking about you. How awful that must have been—finding her and then being interrogated by the police.”

“Told you,” Clara whiskered to Laurel as the guest shivered dramatically.

“Well, not interrogated, actually.” Becca stared into her wine. “They just asked me about what I saw and how I know her, and everything.”

“Horrible.” Kathy shook her head. Her mouth was pursed in concern but her eyes were wide with interest. “What you must have seen…”

In response Becca only nodded and took a swallow. When she started to choke, the other woman jumped up to pat her back.

“Sorry.” Becca wiped away the tears from her coughing fit. “Yeah, it just brought it all back.”

“I can only imagine.” Kathy eyed her own glass, then appeared to think better of it. “They don’t have any suspects yet…do they?”

“I hope not.” As her guest blinked, Becca rushed in to explain. “I mean—I don’t think so. Only I’m worried they might think I was involved.”

“Oh, they can’t!” Kathy protested, reaching for Becca’s hand.

“They called me back in this morning to answer more questions.” Becca sounded glum, even as Kathy held onto her. “And they said they might have more.”

“Well, we know there’s nothing in that—and we’re all here for you. Here.” Kathy topped off her glass, and lifted her own in solidarity. “Interesting.” She examined the bottle.

“It’s been in the fridge for a while.” Becca admitted.

“It’s fine.” Kathy waved her off and took another swallow, wrinkling her freckled nose at the taste. “After all, you’ve had quite a shock. But anyway, that’s not why I came over.” She raised her glass in a salute. “I’ve got a job for you!”

“Yes?” Becca actually shifted to the edge of her seat. Kathy grinned and almost shimmied with satisfaction as she took another sip.

“ She’s toying with her.” Laurel’s tone made her sister turn. She was staring at Kathy as she choked down the wine. The expression on the feline’s face was a little hostile but also a bit respectful, and Clara didn’t think it was because of their visitor’s ability to drink.

“How dare she!” Clara could feel her ears going back.

“ No, it’s okay.” Laurel raised one dark chocolate paw, ready to bat her younger sibling. She was leaning in and listening—using her skills to hear the thoughts behind the words. “She’s dragging it out to make it last. She wants to bond. Like we do.”

Clara lashed her tail, unsure of that, and Laurel wisely lowered her paw.

“It’s not a glamorous position,” Kathy was saying. “And maybe you wouldn’t even want it. Only, well, I know how tough it is out there.” Now it was her turn to lean in, and her voice got softer. “You know what a hard time I had after Joey and I broke up,” she said. “How I fell into a depression.”

“I don’t think I knew you then.” Becca’s voice was gentle, and when her guest didn’t respond, she kept talking. “I’m sorry it was hard for you.”

“Thanks.” Her friend looked down into her glass, her voice unusually quiet. “The coven really saved me. We witches have to stick together.”

“Definitely.” Becca smiled, though Clara could see the uncertainty around the corners of her mouth. “If only I could be sure we’re really witches.”

“You’re not?” The redhead’s eyes went wide in surprise. “I thought you, of all people…”

“Well, I’m hoping.” A faraway look came over Becca. “You know, I did some research on my own family, and it does look like there was at least one wise woman—a ‘wyrd sister’—in my family tree, back in the 1760s. In fact—”

“Well, don’t tell Eric that when you speak to him!” Kathy interrupted.

“Eric?”

The brassy curls bounced as she nodded. “Eric Marshfield, my supervisor. They’re looking for someone to handle data entry. They want to modernize the system, make it so you can see comparables. I think that’s not your thing exactly, but the company’s growing…”

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” Becca grabbed a pad and began making notes. “I can do systems, and, frankly, I need a job. Thanks, Kathy. After all that’s happened…”

“I know.” Kathy tried the wine again, with only a small wince this time. “It’s just unbelievable, isn’t it?”

Becca swallowed, going slightly green. Clara made a mental note to knock the wine bottle over if she got the chance. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t hear what the trouble was with her and Ande, did you?” Kathy seemed not to notice Becca’s discomfort. Then again, she’d finished her own glass.

“No.” Becca shook her head. “Suzanne said she wanted to talk to me about something, but I never got to hear about what.”

“Trent gave us all a ride, and there was definitely something going on with those two. Larissa noticed it too. You know,” Kathy leaned close. Clara’s ears pricked up. Laurel might be right about the desire to bond. That didn’t mean the calico wanted to miss out on anything. “I hear they were both into the same guy. I wonder if the police know about that.”