“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.”
“Oh no.” Ande was shaking her head, as if this were worse. “You’re involved in that whole mess between Frank and Gaia, aren’t you?”
***
The flurry of questions and exclamations that followed sent Laurel leaping to the top of the bookcase again, while Harriet remained under the table. Only Clara, who had ventured out to the edge of the sofa, dared the torrent of voices.
“What are they on about?” Harriet was getting annoyed. “Are we going to have to stay here all night?”
“It’s about a man, isn’t it?” From her perch, Laurel’s blue eyes glowed. “I’m sure it’s about a man.”
“I think it’s about money.” Clara, like most cats, had only the vaguest ideas about finance and budgeting. She had learned a little, however. They all had when Becca had lost her last job as a researcher. Once she had set herself up as a witch detective, their person seemed less worried. At any rate, she spoke about it less frequently—at least until recently—and Clara didn’t think that was only because of the time she spent on the computer doing what her buddy Maddy called “freelance.”
“Money, huh!” Harriet snorted, and curled up on herself. Clara suspected that her older sister was even less clear on the topic than she herself was, but she didn’t try to explain. She also knew how grumpy Harriet could get when she was due for a nap. Instead, she turned her ears forward and tried to pick up the thread of the conversation.
“So, you don’t think Margaret Cross did something. Do you?” Marcia’s gaze swiveled between Ande and Becca.
“I know she was angry with him.” Becca’s voice was cautious, and Clara’s tail began to lash in sympathy. “But not that angry. She was worried about him. She thought he’d gone missing.”
“And that was in the afternoon, when she was home with her sister. But you found him easily enough. And you knew she was upset.” Marcia’s eyes fell on Becca’s necklace.
“Yeah, I did.” Becca reached for the stone. “But, honestly, I believe she just felt bad because he was cheating on her.”
“Like he was going to leave her. Only someone made it permanent.” Marcia turned back to Ande. “You knew something was up.”
“Yeah,” the tall accountant acknowledged, a rueful note creeping into her voice. “I know they were having…issues. But Frank would never leave Margaret. He couldn’t.” She bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from saying any more.
“It was her money.” Marcia put two and two together. “So even if he kept on fooling around—”
“Wait, you know about that?” Becca broke in. Her two friends looked at each other. “Did everybody know?”
“I made the mistake of going down to his lot once. Luz thought we could get a good deal on a car, but he had no inventory,” said Marcia. “What he had was a roving eye.”
“And roving hands,” Ande added. “I learned early on never to be in his office alone with him.”
“He’s lucky he hasn’t been sued,” Marcia piled on. “Then again, nobody would get much. Or it would be Margaret’s money. What?”
Ande had made a face. “He was talking with some other investors,” she said. “If you can call them that. Anyway, I stopped working with him.”
“Good for you.” This from Marcia.
“I didn’t realize he was so creepy. Still, this doesn’t look good for Margaret, does it?” Becca drew her knees up and hugged them to herself, prompting Clara to inch closer. “If only these other people would leave.”
“I think she was really upset when she couldn’t reach him.” Becca didn’t even look down as her calico nosed her toe. “But if he cheated on her and might have cost her money, too… I don’t know. Especially if…”
Now it was her turn to clam up. Her friends noticed and began prodding her.
“If what? Come on, Becca, it’s all in the coven.”
“I’ve probably told you more than I should have already, but this is all going to come out, most likely.” Becca’s forehead was creased, though if that was concern over breaking a confidence or worry about her client, Clara couldn’t tell. “The reason Gaia hired me is that she thought someone was trying to kill her. Or, maybe should I say, kill her, too.”
“And once the police hear that, they’ll wonder if they’re connected.” Marcia filled in the blanks.