“Honestly, Becca, they’re fine.” Ande, a member of Becca’s self-styled coven, wiped tears of laughter from cheeks that were a shade darker than Laurel’s fur. “I mean, if you didn’t have cats, maybe you wouldn’t have your powers.”
All three cats stopped at that and stared up at the newcomer as she walked past them into the kitchen. Even Becca froze, mouth open as if about to phrase a life-altering question.
“That’s so funny you would say that,” Becca managed, her voice breathless. “I was just reading—”
“Yoo-hoo!” Before Becca could elaborate, another voice rang out. “Everything okay?”
“Marcia.” Becca turned to greet the petite newcomer who bounded in, dark eyes wide. “How’re you—I mean, merry meet!”
“Merry meet yourself, Becca. But you shouldn’t leave your door open like that!” Taking off her ever-present Red Sox cap, she ran a hand through her brunette pageboy. “I got scared there for a minute.”
“Why?” Ande stepped back into the apartment’s main room. She was holding the teapot that was always filled for the coven’s gatherings. “What’s up?”
“Don’t you come through Central Square?” Marcia looked from Ande to Becca in disbelief. “Something’s happening at Charm and Cherish.”
“Oh, yeah, I was down there this morning.” Becca took the teapot from Ande, who stood stock still, and proceeded back into the kitchen. “Are the police still there?”
“Yeah.” Marcia dragged the word out as she looked from Ande to Becca. “You okay?”
“Of course.” Ande managed a smile. Laurel, meanwhile, had re-emerged and began sniffing at Marcia’s high-top sneakers. “Becca, what were you saying?”
Marcia wasn’t waiting. “Did you hear anything?” She tagged after Becca, stepping over the cat. “Is it related to that hit and run? I got an alert that the police are on the lookout for a red sports car with out-of-state plates. I guess the poor guy is still critical. It’s a good thing there was a vet nearby.”
“Good thing he knew emergency medicine.” Becca raised her voice to be heard over the running water.
“Yeah, well, that’s part of the training, isn’t it?” Marcia looked at Ande. The taller woman simply shrugged. “They’re calling him the hero vet.”
“Isn’t that redundant?” Becca waved Marcia off as she reached for the kettle. “But, no, that was down by the river. The reason for all the fuss around the shop is because of Frank Cross, the owner’s husband. He’s…well, it seems he’s died.” Clara could hear the water reaching a boil. With her superior feline senses, she could also hear Ande’s startled gasp. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I hear it might have been a coronary.”
“And you were there?” Ande’s voice was tense with dread. “At the shop?”
Becca shook her head as she counted out scoops of the fragrant mint tea.“Three. Four. Uh-huh,” she said. “No, not when it happened. I mean, I was at the shop earlier, but I think he was at his office when—oh, bother.”
“You’d gotten to five,” said Marcia. “And it’s just us three today.”
“Well, there’ll be seconds.” Becca shot her friend a grin as she poured the water into the teapot. “But, anyway, Margaret had wanted to hire me for a case—she had a problem with the shop. I told her I had a conflict and I couldn’t take it. But there was one thing I thought I could straighten out for her, just to put her mind at rest. It involved Frank, kind of, so I went down to his office—you know that car lot on Putnam? Anyway, he was alive then.”
“Well, this must be something different.” Marcia turned her Sox cap in her hands as she thought. “There were a ton of cops by the shop, not an ambulance or anything.”
“Margaret did tell me some valuables had gone missing,” Becca confided, her hand going up to the blue stone pendant. “She thought maybe Frank had taken them. That was…well, that was part of what I was looking into.”
“Speaking of, nice necklace.” Marcia reached over. “Lapis?”
“Thanks. It’s supposed to help discern truth from lies.”
“Interesting.” Marcia eyed the necklace as Ande stepped closer. “How’s it work?”
“When did you speak with Margaret?” Ande’s question saved Becca from having to confess her ignorance.
“Late this afternoon.” Becca reached for the mugs. “I went there right after talking with Margaret. She lives above the shop and—”
“Becca,” Ande interrupted her, her face serious. “Tell me you told the police about this.”
“I didn’t get a chance to,” her host said as she fit the mugs and the teapot onto a tray. “I was trying to get to Margaret, but the police wouldn’t let me in.”
“Of course they wouldn’t.” Ande took the tray from Becca and handed it off to Marcia.
“What are you talking about?” Becca turned from Ande to Marcia, who looked as puzzled as Becca did.
“I don’t know if it was just a coronary, Becca.” Ande’s brow furrowed. “And I am so glad you’re not working for her.”
Becca shook her head in confusion.
“You don’t get that many cop cars for a medical emergency.” Ande pulled Becca back into the living room and sat her on the sofa.
Marcia followed up before Becca could protest.“Ande’s right,” she said, setting the tray on the table. “You said there was some kind of a problem and that Margaret thought her husband was stealing from her? Maybe his heart didn’t simply give out. Or not by itself, anyway.”
Chapter 12
The three cats scurried as the three humans all began talking at once.
“That makes no sense.” Becca stared, wide-eyed, at Marcia. “She loved him. She was afraid he was leaving her.”
Marcia couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“Oh, goddess help me, you don’t think that my turning down her case drove her to do something—”
“Hold on. Is anyone saying that Frank Cross’s death wasn’t natural?” Ande turned from one to the other. “Anyone besides us, I mean?”
“No. This is pure speculation.” Becca was trying to be the voice of reason. “Besides, I was with her—”
“When he was still alive!” Marcia voice belied her size, and her exasperation along with it. “But it all fits. I saw a cop questioning Gaia—you know, the girl who works at the shop? And they took Mrs. Cross out the back.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Ande was only repeating what Becca had said, but the emphasis she put on the words made both her friends turn. “The way things were between them, she wouldn’t even necessarily know.”
That brought Becca up short.“Ande, what’s up?” she asked.
“Wait, you know them?” Marcia followed her friend as she moved over to the sofa. As she sat, the three cats emerged from under the table. The shouting, at least, seemed to be over.
“I’ve done some work for the Crosses.” Ande, who had settled beside Becca, was staring at her hands. Almost, Clara thought, like she wanted to groom. “And, yeah, I’ve gotten to know them a bit.”
“Work?” Marcia, who had settled in the easy chair, turned from Ande to Becca. “You mean, you’ve done their taxes or something?”
“I’ve done hers.” Ande glanced up, her hands unlicked. “And the store’s. Not his business, though there’s some overlap. I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t say anymore.”
“That’s interesting.” Becca drew out the word. “So you didn’t do the books for his car lot?”
“No.” Ande shook her head, her dark face grave. “Becca, you’re not looking into anything at that lot, are you?”
“I’m not,” she answered, her voice still thoughtful. “Margaret Cross tried to hire me because she thought someone was embezzling. I couldn’t take her case because I had a conflict of interest, because something else came up—but when I went to tell her it all got mixed up with her husband.”