“What tasks?” Clara looked up at her oldest sister, but Harriet’s round golden eyes merely blinked once before returning to her dish.
“If only you were really my familiars.” Becca was leaning back on the counter. Although Clara’s ears flipped back to catch the sigh that followed those words, it was clear that Becca was simply airing her thoughts. “My great-great-grandmother referred to her cat as her familiar, but maybe that was just a figure of speech. Or, I don’t know, a convention of the time. She couldn’t have actually conversed with her cat, could she?”
Clara’s ears flicked, but a heavy paw came down on hers. Harriet.
“No.”
Clara pulled back. “But you were the one who started her on this whole magic thing. If you hadn’t summoned…” She stopped. There was no way to remind Harriet that it was her laziness that had prompted their person to believe she was a witch without insulting her. Besides, Becca had already shown an interest in magic by then.
“It’s in the family,” Harriet mumbled, her mouth full. “It was going to happen anyway.”
“And you’re the one who is supposed to look out for her.” Laurel shot a glance Clara’s way as she sat back and began to wash her face. “Not lecture your elder sisters!”
“I’m sorry.” Clara dipped her head and stepped back from her food dish. Laurel eyed the leftovers, but wisely let Harriet dive in. “But I don’t understand.”
“Don’t be such a kitten.” Laurel sat back to wash her face, scrubbing at her tawny fur with one brown mitt.
“I just feel like you could help me sort this out.” Becca was speaking to herself. Clara knew that. And yet she couldn’t help reaching out to her person, which she did, batting at her leg with one gentle paw.
“What is it, Clara?” Becca roused to lift her pet, cradling her in her arms. “Did Harriet steal your food again?”
“Did not!” A faint grunt of protest as the marmalade cat looked up, her yellow eyes narrowing.
“I didn’t say you did,” Clara mewed softly. “I only wanted to let Becca know that we’re here.”
“So much for being discreet.” Laurel’s implication was clear.
“That’s not fair.” Clara squirmed in Becca’s grasp, desperate to make her sisters understand.
“Whoa, okay!” Becca released her and she jumped to the floor, but even as she did, she turned toward her person with a plaintive mew.
“You three.” Becca shook her head. “You’re worse than the coven sometimes.”
The three littermates froze. This was too close to home.
“Speaking of, I wonder if I should consult the coven?” Becca wandered back into the living room.
“We have to be more careful!” Clara did her best to keep the hiss out of her tone. It wouldn’t help to antagonize her sisters more. “You know the law!”
“I’m not the one who was squealing like a…like a…” Harriet’s short nose bunched up in thought.
“Like a little mouse,” Laurel purred. “Clara, you’re such a clown sometimes.”
“Clara the clown!” Harriet echoed, her voice taking on a singsong quality.
It was all Clara could do to keep from snarling in her own defense. Instead, tail down in a dispirited droop, she followed her person into the living room and jumped up on the sofa beside her.
“Hi, Ande?” As Clara leaned in, Becca absently stroked her spotted back. “Do you have a few minutes?”
Clara couldn’t hear the response as Becca shifted, reaching for her laptop. And as much as she would have liked to spread herself across the warm keyboard, she contented herself with leaning against Becca’s hip as her person quickly typed out some notes.
“Thanks. I’ve been working on this case, and I’ve sort of hit an impasse.” As Clara watched, Becca summoned up a familiar picture. The plant they had just seen, only set in what looked like a lush summer garden. “What can you tell me about aconite—wolf’s bane?”
A slight squawk, as if from a startled sparrow, had Becca shifting. “No, I’m not. I’m trying to stay clear of what happened to Frank Cross. I promise.” Clara looked up at her person. Becca rarely lied, but this was stretching the truth. “Though I do wonder…”
More squawking, and Becca put the phone on the table.
“Hang on,” she said. “Okay, I’ve put you on speaker so I can look it up. Yup, this looks right.”
“What? Becca, what’s going on?” The voice of the other coven member was tinny but recognizable. “You have an aconite plant there? With your cats?”
“No.” Becca shook her head, although the other witch couldn’t see her. “I mean, I have a cutting, but it’s all wrapped up. I wanted to make sure it was from Gaia’s plant.”
“Wait, Gaia, who was having an affair with Frank? Asafetida Gaia? She has aconite, the real thing? Do the police know? Because aconite poisoning can look like a heart attack.”
“I gathered that already.” Becca’s voice dropped. “I also think it might be what made her so sick. I don’t know if you heard—she’s in the hospital.”
“She’s—” Ande caught herself. “Becca, this sounds bad. You don’t think it was some murder-suicide pact, do you?”
“I don’t think so.” Becca bit her lip, deep in thought. “Though someone told me that Gaia knew Frank had a heart condition. A ‘bad ticker.’ Only Gaia’s plant was stolen. That’s the one that I have a clipping from.”
“Wait, I’m missing something.” Ande’s confusion came through loud and clear. “Back up. You have a cutting, but you got it from a plant that was stolen?”
“Yeah, it’s a longish story, Ande. Gaia said Elizabeth Sherman, you know, Margaret Cross’s sister, took the plant from her after telling her how dangerous it was. But Elizabeth said she didn’t, even though I found it at Charm and Cherish, in the back room, and—”
“Hold on.” Clara could almost see the taller witch holding up a long, slim hand to stop Becca from going further. “You went into the back room? I thought the store was closed.”
“It is.” Becca lowered her eyes even as she worked to keep the embarrassment from her voice. “But, Ande, I had a tip. And, well, this is what I do now. I investigate.”
“You got a tip?” Clara’s ears pricked up. The other witch sounded suitably disturbed. “Becca, why aren’t you taking this to the police? This is serious.”
The calico breathed a sigh of relief at this good common sense, but Becca was shaking her head. “I can’t, exactly,” she told her friend. “I mean, Tiger pointed out that it could make it look like I’m involved. You know?”
“Tiger?” Ande might not have been able to see the slight flush that crept over her cheeks, but she must have heard something in her tone. “I don’t think I’ve heard about any Tiger.”
“Oh, Tiger? He’s, uh, he’s Gaia’s ex. He’s been helping. Well, kind of…” There was no hiding the stammer now.
“Becca.” Ande cut her off. “I don’t need any special powers to know that something else is going on here.”
“It’s not…it’s not what it seems.” Becca rallied to complete the sentence. “They’re broken up, but he still cares about her. She told me that herself.”
“Uh-huh.” Ande’s voice dripped with skepticism. “And he’s telling you all of this and not her, why?”
“Because.” Becca was firm. “He doesn’t want to talk with her. He feels he needs to keep his distance and not, you know, give her false hope.”