Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

“The same—” Becca recoiled, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Ande was seeing Jeff too?”

“Who’s Jeff?” Kathy tipped her head to the side. “I’m talking about Trent.”

Chapter 16

“I knew that man was up to no good.” It was all Clara could do to keep from spitting.

Laurel stared at her sister with her blue eyes wide, the feline equivalent of raised brows. “Really, Clara?” Her normal mew sank to a near purr as her whiskers perked up—more a result, Clara had to believe, of her being right than in glee over Becca’s disappointment. “ You are such a kitten.”

“But you were the one who suspected him…” Clara closed her eyes, thinking of the ruined bouquet. Laurel always did try to misdirect attention from her appetites.

When she opened them, her sister was still there. As was that Kathy. Though, to do the shorter woman credit, she looked just as upset as Becca.

“You didn’t know?” Her mouth made an O of concern.

“Someone may have suggested…a while ago.” Becca shook off the exaggerated response. “But I’d heard that Suzanne was seeing my ex, Jeff.”

“Oh.” Kathy sat back and seemed to take that in, her round face growing serious. “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about that.”

“But you’re sure about Suzanne—and about Ande?”

A shrug. “No, I’m not sure sure. Not really. But that’s what I heard.”

“Where’d you hear it?” Clara tilted her ears forward. This seemed a legitimate question to her, the kind an inquisitive cat would pose.

“I don’t really remember.” Kathy looked at her wine glass, but then seemed to think better of it. “Maybe from Larissa? Anyway, it probably doesn’t mean anything—Trent’s, well, you know.” A shy smile brought out her freckles. “He’s Trent. Anyway, I should get going. Get in touch with Eric, though, and let me know what happens, okay?”

Becca walked her guest to the door in a daze and stood, her forehead leaning on the doorframe, for several minutes after she left. Clara circled her ankles in solidarity and allowed the young woman to heft her to her shoulder.

“ How undignified!” The calico looked down to see Laurel staring up at her.

Harriet joined her seal-point sister a moment later. “Does this mean we’ll get treats?” she asked, before Laurel swatted her, and she plodded off. Becca, meanwhile, had collapsed back on the sofa, her lids closing in exhaustion.

“I need to talk to Ande. If only I could just summon her.” Becca was talking to herself; Clara knew that. Still, she glared down at her sister in alarm. Had Laurel suggested this stupid idea somehow?

But the slim feline flicked her tail and turned away dismissively. She didn’t have to be psychic to read the angle of Clara’s ears, but, clearly, she was having none of it. Clara didn’t think either of her sisters could actually implant a totally new thought in a person’s mind, only suggest a direction. Then again, she was the youngest and not at all sure of just how much power they each had. As it was, Becca had let her smallest cat slide to her lap, and with a deep sigh, reached for her phone. “I should just call her,” she said, her voice flat with fatigue. “Tomorrow.” She put the phone down. Just then, a yowl sounded. Harriet—from the kitchen.

That roused Becca as nothing else could, and Clara jumped to the floor. Laurel was already on her way to see what their oldest sister was up to.

“ I’m hungry!” Harriet complained once her audience had assembled, her yellow eyes wide with pleading. Of course, her request sounded like a plaintive mew to Becca, but because the chubby creamsicle of a cat was standing by her empty dish, it wasn’t hard to figure out her meaning.

“Oh, kitty! I’m sorry.” Becca reached for the cabinet where she kept the cans. “It is your dinner time, isn’t it? Only—” She paused, and it hit Clara: she knew why Harriet had disappeared moments before.

“ You didn’t!” She hissed. Partly out of surprise. Harriet never let anything get in the way of her creature comforts. “ But why?”

“Yow. ” It was a non-answer as she turned her round eyes on her youngest sibling, her whiskers spreading into a supremely self-satisfied smirk.

“I could’ve sworn I had…” Becca paused, staring at the empty shelf and shaking her head. Seeing her dismay and evident fatigue, Clara concentrated, trying hard to will the young woman to keep looking. The little calico knew that while her sister could summon items out of the ether, it was harder to send them back. Besides, odds were that those cans had simply been moved to another shelf. Clara couldn’t imagine Harriet would ever really risk having no food in the house.

But any feline’s magical power has its limits, and Clara lacked Laurel’s particular ease with human thoughts. And so instead of doing a thorough search for those missing cans, within a minute Becca was cursing her own carelessness and muttering promises to her pets that she would return soon—with provisions.

“I wouldn’t let my girls starve!” She sounded so earnest it hurt Clara to hear her. “I know you depend on me.”

Harriet’s low, self-congratulatory “ thrrup ” was the only response. Clara didn’t even make eye contact with her sisters as she followed their person out the door. She knew they were up to something, but it was more important to the compact calico that she watch out for Becca than she grill her siblings. Besides, being the youngest as well as the smallest, she didn’t have much leverage. She wasn’t a tail biter like Laurel. And the one time Clara had tried to actually push Harriet, as opposed to reasoning with her, her big sister had responded by sitting on her. Her whiskers weren’t right for months.

Taking advantage of the deepening dusk, the little calico was virtually invisible even without a masking, her stripes and splotches blending in with the shadows as the after-work crowd filled the sidewalks. And as Becca made her way to the local grocery, Clara began to wonder if she’d made the wrong choice. Maybe Laurel and Harriet had merely wanted to get her out of the apartment. It didn’t take much to imagine what they might be up to, back there alone, and she was just about to turn around when Becca stopped short.

“Ande!” Clara looked up to see a tall, slim figure about to enter the store. The woman paused on hearing her name, and Clara could hear Becca whisper to herself: “Did I summon her?”

“Becca, blessed be.” The dark-haired woman managed a smile as she walked back toward her coven mate. But it was a weak one and didn’t touch her eyes. “What’s up? You headed to the Superette?”

Before their person could answer, Clara turned with a hiss. “Harriet!” Only instead of her fluffy sister, she saw a pair of almond-shaped blue eyes. “Laurel?” Clara corrected herself as the other cat took shape. “Don’t you see that Becca is going to think she made Ande appear? You knew she wanted to question her. How could you?”

“I was curious,” her sister purred. “Weren’t you?”

“No!” Clara stopped. “Well, yes, but…” It was too late. First, Laurel’s brown ears and tail faded into the shadows, and then her tan torso, until finally she closed those mischievous blue eyes and disappeared entirely.

Clara still sensed her sister’s presence and knew she’d be lurking somewhere, listening. But the youngest cat was in damage-control mode now. Drawing closer, she focused on the conversation between the two young women.

“I know, it’s just so horrible. I can’t imagine…” Ande spoke softly as the stream of post-work shoppers flowed past them. As she did, she shook her head, as if she could rid her mind of the last few days.