Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

“ What did you do?” Clara was standing, back arched as she stared at her sister.

“ That’s mine!” Harriet had struggled to her feet. Ignoring her sister, she turned to the invader, her growl growing to a high-pitched whine.

“Kitties! What’s the—” Becca had returned, laptop in hand. “Kathy, watch—”

Too late, Harriet had already coiled—an orange and white fury with one goal in sight. Launching herself, she wrapped her paws around Kathy’s hand and sunk her teeth into the soft flesh of her thumb.

“Ow!” Pulling her hand back, the redhead freed herself with a jerk that sent the amulet flying to the floor. That’s when Clara saw her moment. With one leap, she landed on the gold replica and—hearing the thud as her sister hit the floor beside her—sent it flying.

“Kathy, are you okay?” Becca was kneeling on the sofa beside her visitor, examining the bite marks on her hand. “It doesn’t look like she drew blood.”

“I’m fine.” The redhead snapped, pulling her hand back to cradle it against her body.

“I’m sorry, really.” Becca looked mortified. “Sometimes they fight, but they’ve never…” She broke off. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Kathy was already rising. “Good luck with that guy you’re seeing.” And with that she was gone.

“Harriet, Clara, really!” The slamming of the door had frozen both cats in their tracks. Clara looked up at her person in dismay. Harriet was still glaring at her sister. That lucky shot had set the little gold piece skidding under Becca’s big armchair—where the original had ended up after Harriet first grabbed it and where the marmalade was too stout to follow. “What got into you?”

Clara rose and approached her person carefully. Tail down, in dismay, it was all she could do to gently rub her head against Becca’s outstretched hand. To try to explain about Harriet’s ability—and her selfish decision to recreate the amulet that she had so envied—was beyond her. Even if she could manage the language skills, to let a human in on the powers they all shared was forbidden. Not to mention how hurt Becca would be if she ever found out that it was her plump feline who had managed that original summoning, rather than herself. Becca was just beginning to have faith in herself once more. Even if she could, Clara would do nothing to discourage her now.

Chapter 33

By the time Maddy came by, Becca had rallied. Harriet was still upset, of course, and had already boxed Clara’s ears twice. Laurel, perhaps wisely, was staying out of this particular squabble. She sat on top of the bookshelf, observing the proceedings with her cool blue eyes.

“I think everyone in that coven of yours is crazy.” Instead of cookies, Maddy had brought a bottle of wine, and after pouring them both healthy glasses, she had plopped down on the sofa and listened to Becca’s story once again. “And I’m glad you walked out on this Nathan—that’s definitely the same guy.” She paused to pour herself more. “Do you think he could be Suzanne’s stalker?”

“I don’t know.” Becca looked into her own nearly full glass as if it held the answer. “He keeps texting me now too.”

“What does he say?” Maddy sidled up to her friend, as if she expected her to pull the phone out right then.

“Well, he started off worried about me, asking why I ran off.” Becca raised her glass and twirled it before taking a tentative sip. “Then he asked if he’d done anything wrong.”

“Anything wrong—like stalking you.” Maddy sat back, set on her conclusion. “I mean, first he calls out of nowhere and asks questions about you, and then he takes what should have been your job.”

“It wasn’t actually out of nowhere,” Becca began to protest, but her friend cut her off.

“But you said you didn’t tell him about the coven, and he knew about that, right?”

“Yeah, but he does know Larissa, so she probably told him.” Becca had had time to think. “Maybe Larissa recommended him for the job too. If he also has a family connection, it makes sense.”

“Stalker.” Maddy seemed to be relishing this. “And a creep. But I blame that Larissa too. I mean, she said she’d refer you for that job.”

“Yeah, but…” Becca looked at her friend, as if she weren’t sure if she should continue.

“Becca?” Sensing something good, Maddy put her drink down.

“Something someone said—I think Larissa might, you know, keep her boyfriends.”

“Keep, as in retain?”

“Not exactly.” Becca lowered her voice, although neither Harriet nor Laurel were listening. “Keep as in pay for. And that first time I ran into Nathan he said he was visiting a relative but …”

“Ah.” Maddy sat back, resting her wine glass on Harriet’s pillow. Clara, who had been paying attention, thought the plump woman did not appear overly surprised. “And suddenly the handsome painter gets a referral to a cush office job. Though he’s not going to keep that lovely sun-kissed look if he comes to work for us.”

“But why would Reynolds hire him?” Becca hugged her knees to her chest, like she did when she was thinking, and turned to face her friend. “I mean, to be honest, he didn’t seem particularly pleased when I said Larissa had sent me—he even told me that she’d used up her credit, or words to that effect.”

“Well, maybe you’re in luck, then, kiddo.” Maddy shifted to face her, moving her glass back to the table, much to Clara’s relief. “Maybe you’re still in the running. Maybe this wasn’t even a real interview. He wasn’t in there for long.”

“Maybe.” Becca looked doubtful, and Harriet used that moment to swat once more at Clara.

“What’s up with your cats?” Maddy looked at them as if seeing them for the first time.

“They’ve been fighting.” Another shake of the head. “I don’t know why. I think Clara stole a toy. I saw something go flying.”

“Don’t you dare!” Clara hissed, and immediately regretted it. Only after the words were out of her mouth did she realize that her sister hadn’t been paying attention.

“ Meow!” Too late now. With her most plaintive mew, Harriet drew all eyes to her as she lay down and stretched her paw under the armchair. “Please!”

“Oh, poor kitty.” Becca was up in a moment. “Hang on.”

While Maddy watched, Becca tilted the chair back, revealing a well-chewed catnip mouse, a wad of aluminum foil that Laurel had become obsessed with over a month before. And, yes, the replica of Trent’s golden amulet.

“What is that?” Maddy was on the shiny piece before Harriet could right herself, carrying it to the kitchen to examine it in better light. Short though she was, once she stood up, she was out of the cat’s reach.

“That’s—no, that’s impossible.” Becca seemed as stunned as Kathy had been.

“Becca?” Maddy looked from the trinket to her friend.

“That’s Trent’s. From my coven, the, uh, warlock.” Maddy’s brows went up, but she kept silent. “He came back after the coven meeting, and we were sitting on the sofa.” The color in Becca’s cheeks only made Maddy’s brows rise higher. “He had that on a chain and it must have been swinging and, well, you know how cats are with moving objects. Anyway, Harriet took a swipe at it and broke the chain. But I thought he’d picked it up.”

“You’ve been busy.” She fixed her friend with a quizzical stare. “So it wasn’t all painter boy?”

“It wasn’t like that.” Becca looked down, her cheeks positively scarlet. “Well, it might have been. Only, I didn’t expect it. I mean, he’s been flirty, but, Maddy, I think he’s flirty with all the women. Anyway, he had just kissed me when that—when Harriet intervened. She scratched him too. Not intentionally, I don’t think. Just that her claw got caught. Anyway, that, ah, broke the mood, and he left soon after.”