Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

“You don’t want to.” Becca’s voice was somber, and Clara had to fight the urge to go to her. As much as the little cat wanted to comfort her person, she knew that materializing in front of the Superette would not have the desired effect.

“Ugh.” Ande put her hand over her mouth, as if she could block the image. “That’s right. Are you okay?”

Becca shrugged, staring off into space as if she were a cat or simply done with the conversation. And then, just as Clara had begun to hope that maybe this would be it—that her friend’s sympathy would stir in Becca a desire to talk about anything but the events of the previous Saturday—Becca took a deep breath and turned to face her elegant friend.

“In fact, I was wondering.” Becca was holding her voice steady, but Clara could hear the tension vibrating within her. “I gather you and Suzanne were chatting about something—after the coven meeting?”

“Oh, it wasn’t important.” Another wave, as if the question were a pesky fly. “Not in light of what’s happened.”

Becca’s voice dropped. “Ande, are you dating Trent?”

The other woman flushed, a deep red infusing her caramel-colored cheeks, and her long, dark lashes sank to shield her eyes. “I went out with him a few times. But I wouldn’t say we’re dating.”

“So that wasn’t what you wanted to talk to Suzanne about? I remember you calling to her—that she’d ‘promised’ you something?” Becca’s voice was gentle, but there was something in her expression that her cat recognized. It was the look she got when she was hunting down an elusive reference—as intense as what Clara had seen on Laurel’s face that one time a mouse had gotten into the apartment.

Ande didn’t take refuge under a nearby refrigerator, however, or even duck inside the store. Instead, she stood straighter, emphasizing the good six inches she had on Becca. She had an imposing presence anyway, and as she squared her shoulders, two separate shoppers held their grocery bags closer as they made their way around her.

“What? No.” She dismissed the question before launching her own. “Is that what Larissa is saying?”

“I—never mind.” Becca tended to look down when she was embarrassed, and she began to stare at the sidewalk, as if unsure whether the gathering dusk would soon obscure whatever she found so fascinating there. “I just…”

“You can’t think I…over a man…” Ande’s face froze in horror as the implication of Becca’s question hit home. “No, he and I—it was never serious. In fact—”

She stopped so short, Clara peered around to see if either of her siblings had grabbed her tongue.

“In fact?” Becca dared a glance up, as curious as a cat waiting to hear what the taller woman was about to say.

“In fact, Suzanne and I were kind of working on something together.”

Becca nodded, waiting for the other woman to continue.

“Okay, this is going to sound crazy.” Ande crossed her arms and leaned in. “You know I’m an accountant, right?”

Becca’s curls bobbed as she nodded.

“Well, the coven actually has a bank account. Silly, I know, but that’s how Larissa set it up, back when we started, for our monthly tithing and anything else that came up. And a few weeks ago, she asked me look into something. I think she got whacked on taxes this year. Anyway, she wanted to know if we could apply for nonprofit status.” Ande rolled her eyes. “I mean, she has a point. We probably should come under the religious exemption, as practicing Wiccans, but that requires a whole lot of paperwork that I’m not sure we want to get into—or that I want to do gratis.” A wave of one of those elegant hands, as if she were summoning the seafood department to come out to greet her.

“But anyway, when I was looking at the statements, it was pretty obvious that some money has gone missing. We don’t have a lot, but it’s added up over the years, and even with Larissa’s carelessness—her bookkeeping is positively reckless—we’re down a couple of thousand dollars.”

Becca didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Even in the fading light, her confusion showed on her face.

“Crazy, right?” Ande chuckled. “When Larissa started it, I think it was more like a personal account—a way for her to put some money aside. She provided the seed money for expenses—you know, the fliers and the tea. And, well, she has the bucks, so why not? But the balance is definitely not what it should be, especially since we’ve all been ponying up our five bucks a month. Though it could just be that awful tea is more expensive than any of us knew.”

Becca’s lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “The witches’ tea?”

“Awful,” Ande repeated. “But anyway, I told Larissa that it would be really complicated to apply for a change in our status and that if she wanted to pursue it, I was going to have to find out what was going on with the accounting, you know? Larissa told me to forget about it. Said it didn’t matter, she’d make up the difference, and went on about how the cohesion of the coven was what really mattered. Our trust is our power, and all that. She’s got more money than the queen, so I’m fine with that. It was Suzanne who wanted to pursue it.”

“How’d she know about it?”

Ande had the grace to look sheepish. “I might have mentioned it when we were all getting our coats a week or two ago. She said she’d found something—and that she thought more of us should know—and promised to tell me. Only I never got to find out what it was. I thought she’d tell me on the ride home, but no luck.”

“And you didn’t follow up?”

A sad smile as she shook her head. “Frankly, I didn’t think it was a big deal, though it seemed to matter to Suzanne. I mean, we’re kind of Larissa’s pet project, and so if she didn’t care about making up the difference, why should I, right?”

“I guess.” Becca sighed. “I wasn’t aware of any of this.”

“Well, you’ve been dealing with your own stuff.” Ande’s voice was gentle. “We all know about the breakup and your job…” She didn’t have to say more. Becca’s eyes had already begun to fill again.

She blinked back the tears as Ande kept talking.

“Besides, it probably wasn’t anything,” she was saying. “Larissa thought Suzanne was just being paranoid. She’d taken to calling her ‘zany Zane,’ like she had gone utterly nuts. I thought that was a bit harsh. Honestly, it made me wonder if maybe Larissa had it in for poor Suzanne.”

As soon as the words were out of Ande’s mouth, she tried to backtrack.

“I don’t mean it like that,” she said, waving her hands again, as if she could clear the air. “Larissa wouldn’t. She’s not a killer. But she is a drama queen, and I thought maybe she was embarrassed that I saw how sloppy her bookkeeping was—or even that she was enjoying, well, pitting us against each other.”

“She does like to be the center of attention.” Becca looked thoughtful. “And when I found Suzanne, her door was open.”

“Her door?” Ande sounded confused and gasped as the import of Becca’s statement hit her. “You mean, like she opened it for someone? Oh, you can’t mean…Becca, no.”

“Did the police talk to you?” Becca answered Ande’s question with her own, a curious look on her face. “Because they should really know about this.”

“No.” Ande started backing away. “They haven’t. And why should they? I mean, all I can really say for sure is that Larissa is careless with her bank balance and she doesn’t want anyone to know it.”

“I don’t know what to think.” Becca laughed softly. “Because I told the police that Suzanne was my friend too, and they’re still asking questions about me, Ande. They think I might have done it.”