Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

“No, it’s fine.” Marcia dismissed her slight cattiness. “I wasn’t just thinking of our queen bee. I mean, look at Trent. Doesn’t he seem to think he’s our end-all and be-all?” Becca didn’t get a chance to respond. “Really, what does he contribute?”

Clara watched as her person mulled over the possibilities. “He does have a certain charm,” she murmured, earning another dramatic roll of Marcia’s large, dark eyes. “I mean, who else?”

Even as she voiced the question, the answer hit her. Larissa might be overbearing and Trent a flirt. But it was Ande who had first told her about the coven’s financial irregularities and that Suzanne had been concerned. Becca wanted to trust her coven mate’s grudging promise that she would talk to the police. That didn’t mean she couldn’t check up on the alibi she’d given her.

“Marcia, Ande said she was with you last Saturday, when—” Becca broke off, unable to finish.

“Yeah.” The other woman sounded thoughtful, but a trace of a smile lit her face.

Becca paused, taken aback, and then forced herself to go on. “Was Luz with you too?” She winced as she asked the corroborative question, but in the fading light her pained expression was invisible to all but her cat.

“Well, yeah.” Marcia chortled. “You can ask her.”

“Ask Luz?” Becca turned, confused, only to see Ande approaching.

“I don’t think that was canon.” The taller witch joined them, in the guise of handing out the paper cups.

“It most certainly wasn’t,” agreed Marcia. “We were supposed to do a regular circle, invoking the elements, and then toast Suzanne after.”

“Hey, guys.” Kathy approached, jug of cider in hand.

As she filled their cups, Becca took the opportunity to ask, “Did you think that was odd?”

“What, that?” Kathy turned to look at Larissa, who seemed to be deep in discussion with Trent. “Someone likes to be center stage is all.”

“Maybe.” Ande and Marcia exchanged looks.

“That’s right.” Becca nodded. “Weren’t you saying there was something off—”

“Ande!” Larissa called. “Do you have those cups?”

“Don’t mind her.” Kathy took Becca’s arm, turning her away. “She’s a bit—I don’t know—she gets paranoid.”

“Larissa?” Becca gently detached herself from the younger woman’s grasp.

“No, Ande.” Even as Kathy lowered her voice, she gave the name her usual dramatic emphasis. “She can be a little obsessive.” Her voice sank to be quieter still. “I heard what she was saying, but I’m not sure I would believe it. I mean, accusing someone of embezzling? In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the police were looking at her, you know.”

Becca only paused a moment before responding. “No, she and Marcia were together that afternoon.”

The redhead’s eyebrows registered her surprise. “Really? Was Luz there too?”

“I…I think so, but I’m not sure.” Becca looked around as if searching for more confirmation, but Kathy was already reaching for her arm once more.

“Come on.” She led her away so quickly that Clara had to scurry to avoid being kicked. “Let’s get some of those cookies before they’re all gone.” She had a point. Marcia was already on her third. A gingerbread spice mix, Clara could tell, as she raised her black leather nose to the air. And even though Trent appeared more interested in the cider, Larissa was pushing a paper plate of the cookies toward him as the other women arrived.

“May I?” Kathy reached over to nab one. “Thanks.”

Becca, Clara observed, had hung back once Kathy had released her arm, and now sidled over to Trent.

“I’m sorry about your amulet.” She kept her voice low and dipped her head. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring at the warlock’s chest. “And about Harriet.”

“Harriet?” His voice rose, puzzled.

“My cat.” Even in the growing dark, Clara could see that Becca was blushing, and that her own awareness of her rising color only made the flush worse. “The orange and white one.”

“Oh.” One hand went to his chest again, and Becca turned away. Clara wished she could tell the shy, sweet girl that her pink cheeks were barely visible to the other humans.

Trent must have sensed something, though, because as Becca moved away, he reached for her, and as if the warmth of his chest was carried through his fingers, she became redder still. “She doesn’t usually do things like that,” she said. And just for a moment, Clara had to wonder if her person was really talking about her sister cat.

“It was no big deal.” Trent’s voice was low too, almost as if he were sharing a secret. “It was just the chain for my—that thing.”

“Your amulet?” Becca chirped in what Clara thought of as her helpful voice, even as Trent’s mouth tightened in dismissal.

“And what are you two up to?” Larissa shoved the plate of cookies between them before he could respond.

“Nothing much.” Becca took a cookie. “Thanks.”

“Keeping yourself busy?” One dark brow arched in emphasis. The question appeared to be directed to Becca, but even as she spoke, the older woman turned to stare at Trent.

“I’m basically focusing on my research,” Becca offered when it became clear that the man at her side would remain silent. When Larissa’s brow rose further, she explained. “I’m kind of an amateur genealogist. I mean, I might as well use my research skills for something.” More silence, and Becca couldn’t avoid the awful suspicion that she was being judged. Something about those dark eyes and the raven-wing black of those brows. “And I’m looking for work still, of course.” Still nothing, and so she ventured on. “I called Graham today.”

The other woman blinked at that, so slowly that Clara almost thought she was a cat. “Your friend?” Becca offered.

“My mentor,” Larissa corrected her with a nod. “Of course. I’m so glad, dear. I’m sure he’ll look after you.”

“I hope so.” Becca sounded a little anxious. “He agreed to see me, but I’d hate to think that this was just because Suzanne—”

“Nonsense.” Now it was the older woman who was patting her arm, her lacquered nails nearly black in the fading light. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll make sure he knows how special you are.”

Becca swallowed so hard that Clara looked up in alarm. Humans didn’t have hair balls. She knew that, but the young woman before her was patently unnerved. Her older colleague didn’t seem to notice, however. In fact, she’d moved on to Trent and was leading him down toward the water.

“What was that?” Kathy again, her mouth full of cookie.

“Oh, I followed up with that job lead Larissa was telling me about.” Becca’s gaze followed the older woman as she walked away. “Only, well, I’m wondering if it’s a good idea. I’m not sure—” She stopped abruptly, and Clara’s ears perked up, the black sensor hairs inside tingling. “I’m not sure what kind of reference she’ll give me.”

“I get it.” Kathy finished the cookie and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, while Clara studied her human. Becca had changed her mind about what she’d been about to say, and her pet wanted to know why. But Kathy didn’t seem to notice. Leaning in, she dropped her usually brassy voice down into a conspiratorial hush. “Larissa uses her purse strings to control everyone, and you don’t want to just step into Suzanne’s shoes. I mean, talk about bad luck! Hey, why don’t you call my boss instead?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Becca turned, as if seeing the other woman for the first time. “I meant to tell you. I did reach out—Eric Marshfield, right? He said he’s not looking for anyone now.”