Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

Chapter 17

“That’s ridiculous!” Ande rejected the idea that Becca could be considered a suspect. “It had to be a stranger. She must have just opened her door to someone she didn’t know.”

Clara watched Becca as she listened to her colleague’s increasingly heated protest. Ande’s words echoed what Becca herself had said, her pet knew, and yet the focus visible on her person’s face suggested that her own dear person wasn’t accepting her own answer so readily from the other woman.

That focus seemed to grow sharper—and almost catlike—as Becca narrowed her eyes and pressed for more detail about the coven finances. If Becca had whiskers, Clara thought, they would have been bristling as Ande continued to stonewall.

“It’s silly, really.” The accountant fluttered those elegant hands as if she could dispel the thought. “Larissa doesn’t care, so I don’t even know why Suzanne bothered. Larissa is the one putting the money up.” But when Becca pressed her about what else might have been worrying the dead woman, Ande only shook her head.

“She and I weren’t that close,” she kept repeating. “I mean, she asked about my work—she had only recently started some new job herself, something Larissa helped set her up with, so I think it was just conversation, you know?”

Knowing how limited human senses could be, Clara snuck up to the other woman at that point, sniffing at the accountant’s chic boots to see if she could pick up on anything more than general distress. This close to a grocery store, such a task could be a challenge: the aromas of meat and fish, herbs and produce were as distracting as fireworks to acute feline senses. Before she could get a good take, Becca appeared to give up on the financial thread and instead began insisting that Ande inform the police about her conversations with Larissa. At that, Ande grew so distraught that she abandoned her errand, leaving before she had even begun her shopping.

But although the calico briefly wondered if Becca’s mission would be similarly derailed, she soon realized she hadn’t counted on her person’s loyalty and focus. No matter what else was on her mind, Becca wasn’t going to come home empty-handed. Of course, the flicker of fur Clara caught out of the corner of her eye as they entered the grocery might have had something to do with that. Clara didn’t think either Harriet or Laurel could influence Becca’s thoughts that much, but she was pretty sure they had found a way to keep both “cat” and “food” in the consciousness of their impressionable person.

“Don’t you have any of the turkey treat?” Becca was evidently under Harriet’s influence. The fluffy marmalade adored poultry flavors, and the shelf in front of her was fully stocked with Clara’s favorite tuna feast.

“I’ll check, miss.” The harried-looking clerk took off, leaving Becca standing there. Clara did her best to concentrate.

“I wonder if the missing funds were really what was bothering Suzanne?” She reached and—yes!—took two of the tuna cans from the display as she mused. “But if there was something else going on, why wouldn’t Ande tell me about it?” She absently reached out, putting two more cans in her basket, and Clara began to reevaluate her own powers of psychic suggestion. “Just because they both dated Trent…”

By the time the clerk re-appeared, a case of the horrid turkey treat in his arms, she’d loaded up on Clara’s preferred flavor. “Here you go.” His smile looked a bit forced as he held the opened case out to Becca.

“Oh.” She looked into her basket and back up at him. “Thank you,” she said, taking two cans. Clara was grateful her distracted human couldn’t see his expression as she turned toward the checkout.

“Maybe I should reach out to Larissa.” Becca might have thought she was talking to herself as she paid for the cans, but Clara wondered if her person sensed her presence nearby. After all, she was missing an important element—the cat’s concern over the direction her thoughts were headed.

“I mean, the police would never understand about the coven and why it matters,” Becca mused as she loaded up her bag. “They’ll just think she’s a Cambridge flake, starting up a coven of witches in this day and age. But if there is something hinky with that bank account, and Suzanne found out, that could be something. As it is, they’re only looking at Suzanne and Jeff, and if they find out Ande had gone out with Trent too, and Jeff tells them about Suzanne’s necklace—”

Almost out the door, she stopped short, causing a businessman on his cell to bump into her. “Watch it, lady!”

She let him walk by in silence, a look of horror on her face. “If they look at my search history and see I was trying to find out about her…” Hiking her bag higher on her shoulder, she began to walk again, faster than before.

Chapter 18

Even if looks couldn’t kill, Clara knew that by rights she should be singed hairless. Harriet was not happy with the selection that Becca unpacked, and from the way she glared at her baby sister, Clara knew her creamsicle sibling had sussed out that the little calico had made her preference felt.

“Honest, I was only listening . ” Clara protested in vain. “I only wanted to keep her out of trouble.”

“Like you want to be the only one who can use her power,” Harriet grumbled even as she played up to Becca, rubbing against her shins like she hadn’t seen her in a week. “Like you’re the only one with any magic.”

“I didn’t use any — ” Clara stopped herself. “I only passed through the door.” The little calico was fundamentally honest, but she knew better than to add that Laurel had been there too. Harriet was angry enough as it was. “And I did remind her why she had gone shopping. She was getting distracted.”

“Right.” Harriet grunted when she ate, which she did as soon as the first dish was placed on the mat. She might not like the tuna feast, but that didn’t mean she was going to pass up a meal.

“You can make the other cans re-appear tomorrow . ” Clara tried to make nice. “Besides, I’m worried about Becca. She thinks she needs to help the police solve Suzanne’s murder.”

“Not a bad idea.” Laurel appeared with a yawn, as if from a nap in some other dimension. “And she may have a chance to do some hunting tonight too.”

“Hunting?” Clara glanced up at Becca. She was listening to a phone message, a furrow appearing in her brow. “But she’s just come in. She’s exhausted.”

Laurel only lashed her tail in dismissal, and so Clara turned back to their person. Becca was standing and staring at the phone, as if it had just bitten her. When it began to ring again, she jumped.

“Hello?” She sounded as breathless as if she’d just come in from a run. “Oh, Trent.” She sagged against the wall. “I’m sorry, I just got your message. All of this with Suzanne, and now the police…” She paused. “It’s a long story. I’m sure I can clear it up. You haven’t spoken to them today, have you?

“Well, that would have been too easy.” Even her voice was weary. “But how can I help you?”

Clara’s hearing was as acute as any cat’s, and the magic helped. Still, even with her black-tipped ears tilted forward to catch every sound, she couldn’t hear more than a tinny voice saying something about “dinner.”

“Tonight?” Becca winced. “Well, to be honest, I’m kind of wiped out. And Larissa said we’re going to have our regular coven meeting on Wednesday.” More talk that the cat couldn’t hear. “Of course, you’re right, Trent. I do have to eat.”