Клеа Саймон - A Spell Of Murder

“—not where they can hear.” Suzanne had lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. “Look, I’ll explain more—Saturday at my place. Noonish? Please, Becca. It’s important.”

“Saturday at your place.” Becca sounded tired. “But if it involves the entire coven…”

“Just trust me, Becca.” Suzanne turned back one final time, her face drawn. “This is—this could be—big. And, please, for the Goddess’s sake, be careful.”

Chapter 4

The following two days passed with no more magic, but no catastrophes either, whether feline or human. Saturday dawned with all the sunny promise of the season, and the intoxicating scent of flowers and damp new grass through the open window had all three cats’ whiskers bristling. Only Clara noticed that Becca didn’t seem pleased by the beauty of the day. It was hours until Becca was due to meet Suzanne, but clearly, something was on her mind. Not that she forgot to feed the cats—she’d never do that—but she did almost mix up their bowls, putting the lion’s—or the lioness’—portion in Clara’s multicolored dish instead of Harriet’s before she caught her error. And when she committed the cardinal sin of laying down Clara’s dish ahead of Harriet’s, the calico stepped back before her big sister could even turn to glare, knowing that the first bites of breakfast were worth sacrificing for peace.

Once her own dish, with both her name and a golden crown motif, was set down, Harriet moved over. But Clara had barely gotten a few bites of what remained of her own breakfast before Becca set out. Worried as she was about the young woman, her pet knew she had to follow.

It wasn’t hard. While an otherwise intelligent and observant human, Becca was limited—Clara knew—by the preconceptions of her species. In particular, that meant she considered the cats with whom she cohabited to be house pets, unconscious of their real powers. Being indoors was fine for most felines, especially during what had been a rainy April, and Harriet particularly enjoyed being catered to. But although Clara observed the feline rule about hiding this ability, the fact is that without too much effort, she, like all her kind, could pass through most solid objects, at least if she could get a good focus on them.

And so as soon as Becca had locked the apartment door behind her, the multicolored kitty had hunkered down and stared at the closed door. Distracted as she was, the pretty brunette was just vaguely aware of the calico’s appearance as she passed through the door and manifested on the street behind her. Half in the shadows of that early spring morning and half a shadow herself, her mottled coloring adding an extra layer of camouflage, the little cat found it easy to trail Becca in her somewhat ethereal fashion. And although Clara did stop to nibble on an intriguing green—it was spring, after all—she easily caught up with her person by the time she had snagged a table at the local coffee house and settled in with a muffin and mug of something steamy.

“Maddy, over here!” Becca rose and waved, and Clara ducked beneath the table before she could be spotted.

“Becca!” A pleasantly large woman made her way over from the counter, her own mug in one hand, a slab of coffee cake in the other. “What’s up? You look good. Did you find a new job?”

“No, but…” Something akin to a purr warmed Becca’s voice as her friend took the seat opposite.

“Pity,” Maddy mumbled, her mouth full of cake. In some ways, Clara thought, Becca’s old friend resembled Harriet. “’Cause if you find something good, I’m going to follow you. Work stress is making me eat.”

Becca nodded. She’d been hearing about Maddy’s work troubles for as long as her friend had been at Reynolds and Associates, a market research firm in Cambridge’s Central Square.

“Reynolds has been in a mood recently. It’s enough to make me start smoking again too.” She took another bite of cake, as if in response. “Oh, you know it all.” Her friend didn’t have to be psychic to note how Becca’s focus had drifted. “Wait, did Jeff call you?”

“No.” The purr was gone. Becca’s voice had gone flat and lifeless. “He’s…that’s over, Maddy. He’s got some new girlfriend now.”

“I don’t know, Becca. I’ve heard that his new thing didn’t work out.” In the silence, Clara could almost see Becca pushing her pastry around her plate. Maddy didn’t wait long for a response. “I ran into him on the bus a few days ago,” she said, her tone oddly remote. “He was asking about you.”

“He was?” Becca caught herself before her friend could answer. “No, it doesn’t matter. It’s too late. You know I couldn’t take him back, even if he wanted me to.”

“Good girl.” The clink of a mug, and Becca’s friend washed the cake down with enthusiastic approval. “He’s no good for you. I was worried, because you’ve been so preoccupied lately.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Becca shifted in her seat, scattering a few intriguing crumbs. Cranberry, Clara thought. “I’ve really been trying to be mindful. To be present. But it isn’t Jeff, it’s the coven.”

“Oh, please.” Maddy’s chair squeaked as she sat back. “You don’t actually believe in that. Do you?”

“That’s just it.” Becca leaned in, excitement audible even as she kept her voice low. “Maddy, I did…something. I cast a spell. A summoning spell, and it worked.”

“Becca, please. How long have we known each other? You were the best researcher in Professor Humphries’ seminar, and now you’re saying you believe in magic?”

“There’s a lot about the natural world that we don’t know.” Becca’s enthusiasm wasn’t going to be that easily shut down.

“So become a scientist, for crying out loud!” More squeaking of chairs put Clara on alert. “I never thought I’d say this, but I think you should get back into spending your days in the library. At least then you were doing real research.”

“Maddy…” Becca began to protest.

“It’s those people, Becca.” Her friend wouldn’t let her. “They’re crackpots—or worse.”

“Maddy, please. They’re my friends, and, well, they rely on me. They respect me.”

A noise like a furball in the works caused Clara’s ears to perk up. But, no, it was simply Maddy laughing.

“Besides,” Becca sounded hurt, “one of them asked for my help on something.”

“Please tell me you’re not going to get involved.” Maddy had lowered her voice, even as it ramped up in urgency. “Those women are conspiracy theorists of the highest order.”

“They’re not all women.” Becca’s own voice grew quieter. “In fact, one member of the coven is a warlock, and he really believes in my abilities.”

“Oh, Becca.” Her friend’s tone softened. “I know you’re lonely, honey. But, please. Give it time.”

“I am, Maddy.” Becca with a confidence that made her cat proud. “And I’m exploring new interests and expanding my horizon. Just as you’ve always advised me to do. So, what’s up with you?”

A lot, it seemed. And as Becca’s buddy went on about some conflict in an office with a co-worker who sounded like a horror, the cat at their feet nodded off. Spectral travel was tiring. Besides, Becca had a busy day planned. As her cat, Clara was going to need her energy for the mysterious meeting ahead.

Chapter 5

Suzanne, it turned out, lived farther away than Becca had thought. Although still technically in Cambridgeport, her apartment was down by the river, in one of those old triple-deckers the city is known for, and Becca got well and truly lost—taking a shortcut that led her into a blind alley and then another that turned into a construction site—before she retraced her steps almost to the café and started over.