Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

“But Larissa was definitely hiding something,” Becca said, as much to herself as her friend. “She didn’t want me to hear what she was looking for in the records. She tried to hustle me out of there.”

“She’s a weird old lady, from what you’ve told me.” Maddy wasn’t giving up. “She was probably just hoping to find out she had a witch in her background too.”

“Maybe.” Becca had to agree. “She did go on a bit about her heritage. Though between you and me, I think Fox might be a made-up name.”

The burst of laughter made her draw back from the phone. “You think?” Clara could picture Becca’s friend wiping away the tears. “Hey, kiddo, I think I may have found out something about the other candidate for the Reynolds job.”

“Yeah?” Becca’s cheer suddenly dissipated. “Let me guess, he’s got a master’s.”

“No, but he seems to be very chummy with Reynolds. The old buzzard walked him out, and I heard him say something about ‘your mother.’ Friend of the family, I’m guessing.”

“Great.” Clara didn’t really understand sarcasm. Cats don’t need it. But even she could tell that Becca’s response didn’t reflect her true feelings. “Well, without an advanced degree, I was a long shot for that position anyway.”

“I’m sorry. I’d have loved to have you here. Even though this Nathan is kinda dishy.”

“Wait—Nathan?” Becca stopped cold, earning a nasty look from a passing shopper

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you? He breezed right past Ms. White, so I asked. His name’s Nathan Raposa.”

* * *

Maddy hadn’t managed to calm her friend down by the time Becca got home. But Clara was grateful for the other girl’s attempts.

“I’ll come by as soon as I’m sprung,” Maddy had said, signing off. “I’ll bring wine—and chocolate.”

Clara didn’t have a chance to warn her sisters, as Becca clomped into the house in a mixture of anger and despair.

“I can’t even…” was all she said as the three cats circled in wordless sympathy. Clara had, by then, unmasked herself to join the throng. “And now, you!” This, alas, was to Harriet, who hadn’t moved quite quickly enough and nearly tripped their person.

“Harriet!” Clara head butted her older sister out of the way. “Watch it! Becca’s had a bad shock.”

“Becca? What about me?” Harriet sat and began to groom, but at least this time Becca saw her and managed to step around her. “Clearly nobody cares about me or what I want.”

“Quit grumbling.” Laurel rubbed against Becca’s shins and, as their person stopped to reach down and stroke her silky fur, took in her scent with a black leather nose. “ Interesting,” said the Siamese. “Jeff, and — what’s this? — I’m getting a whiff of patchouli, or is that pine?”

Clara looked on in dismay, unsure what to do. She’d already lost her chance at the best place next to Becca on the sofa. A soft grunt announced that Harriet had once again taken over that middle cushion, and she now surveyed her sisters as if challenging them to try to unseat her.

“Don’t you dare…” A low growl underlined that stare. “Mine.”

“Fine.” Clara settled on the rug as Becca made her way to the sofa.

“Oh, kitties.” Becca sat with an exasperated sigh. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“If the clown here would tell us, we would.” Laurel sidled up to her sister.

“I will, I promise.” Clara kept her voice low. It would do her person good to sleep. A nap, as all cats know, is always a sensible option.

But before Becca could drift off into a healing slumber, the doorbell rang and she sat up with a jerk. “Maddy!” At least she was smiling as she approached the door, although when she opened it, that smile disappeared. “Kathy?”

“Hi, am I disturbing you?” The perky redhead beamed up at her. “I’d been meaning to give you a call about Eric. I know you said he blew you off, but, believe me, he’s going to be looking for someone soon—if he isn’t already—and so I thought I’d drop by.”

“Oh, thanks.” Becca sounded more confused than grateful, but she stood aside to invite the other woman in. “Did you just get off work?”

“I was in the area.” That eager smile. “Anyway, about the job. We’re short now, even if Eric’s too cheap to admit it. I know Larissa’s friend is looking for someone too. But you didn’t sound too keen about that, and since I know one of the other girls I work with is going to give notice at the end of the week…well, my boss will definitely need someone, and we’re almost like family.”

Walking into the living room as she rambled on, Kathy eyed Harriet and then took Becca’s place on the sofa. Wisely, she didn’t reach for Harriet’s pillow.

“So, have you talked to Trent much?” Settling in, she leaned back to address her hostess. “I mean, since the whole thing with Suzanne?”

“What? No.” Becca passed behind her into the kitchen. “I still have trouble believing it—and I, well, I was there.”

Kathy fell uncharacteristically silent, her round face drawn with concern.

“I’m sorry.” Becca leaned back into the room “Would you like something to drink? I still have some of that wine.”

“Oh, no, thanks.” Kathy managed a smile again. “I’d take a Diet Coke, if you have it?”

“Coming up.” As Becca fussed in the kitchen, Kathy looked around. Harriet threw a protective paw over her pillow. The other, Clara noticed, stayed on the edge of the cushion. A nasty premonition began to make the fur rise along her back.

“Harriet...”

“I’m sorry, you were asking—were you close to Suzanne?” Becca returned with their drinks. “I gather she and Ande were into something together.”

“I didn’t really keep up with Suzanne, but Ande, I just don’t know.” Kathy took a sip, but her wide brown eyes stayed focused on Becca. “She’s been bad mouthing Trent, you know. No sense of loyalty.”

“Really?” Becca paused. “I thought they were on good terms.”

Kathy shook her head. “Not since she made that play for him. I don’t know what she was thinking, but she’s not his type, if you know what I mean. Same thing happened with Marcia, a little while before you joined.”

“Ah.”

Maybe it was that wordless exhalation or maybe Kathy saw something on Becca’s face, because hers grew suddenly concerned.

“Oh, dear! What is it?” She leaned in, her eyes wide with sympathy.

“Nothing major.” Becca shook her head, eager to stem the younger woman’s gossip. “It’s me,” she said at last. “I had a weird date with someone over the weekend. Another Mr. Wrong.”

Kathy giggled and sat back, as if waiting for the story. “Tell me about it,” she said. “But really, slandering someone is not the way to go.”

“I didn’t—” Becca sat up.

“Not you, silly.” To Becca’s surprise, Kathy stood to go. “I meant Ande. But hey, I’m glad I caught you. You really should send a resume over to Eric. Or—do you want me to?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. He kind of gave me the cold shoulder. Hang on.” Becca went to get her laptop, nudging the pillow as she rose. In response, Harriet slammed a paw down—but not so fast that Clara didn’t see something glitter.

Clara’s fur rose further.

“What’s that, kitty?” Kathy had seen it too, and as Clara looked on in horror, the guest reached over. Harriet, torn between guarding her pillow and the shiny toy, started to growl.

“No!” Despite the growing danger, Kathy wasn’t addressing the cats. Instead, she was looking at the small, gold object in her hand. A perfect replica of Trent’s amulet.