by Clea Simon
She broke off and blinked back more tears, though if they were for the man who had died or the job she had lost, Clara couldn’t tell.
“Anyway, it wasn’t more than a couple of times. It wasn’t like I was going to be his girlfriend or anything.” Clara saw Becca open her mouth to comment and then close it again, unable to find the words. “If it weren’t for that old witch of a sister-in-law showing up, I don’t think anyone would have found out.”
“You mean Elizabeth?” Becca latched onto the name.
“Yeah, it was right after she stole my plant. She marched in and said something about ‘dangerous friends.’ I knew then the jig was up.”
For a moment, Clara thought Becca was going to speak out. Gaia was being as unreasonable as Laurel or Harriet. When she didn’t, Clara had to wonder once again at the similarities between them. When Becca finally did respond, it was in a deliberate tone that Clara knew meant she had put some thought into her words.
“Gaia, we need to go to the police.” When the other girl started to speak, Becca put up her hand to hold her off. “Not about the asafetida. I understand that you were upset, and I think we can just pretend that didn’t happen. But about what you heard or may have heard about Frank. And now with this about your plant… I spoke to Tiger.”
The other girl stared at her like she’d grown a second head, the black smears around her eyes adding dramatic emphasis. “Tiger? How did you…?”
“I am a witch detective.” The corners of Becca’s lips twitched. She didn’t, Clara noted, mention her lunch with Gaia’s ex. “And I’m sorry if I overstepped. But you did hire me to look into what was going on, and then you said that he was still worried about you, and I saw—I might have seen—someone hanging around the shop after I left this morning.”
“That might just have been Tiger.”
Becca shook her head. “I know you said he worries too much. But maybe he’s got reason. I gather that he knew about your affair with Frank.”
“Tiger? No, he didn’t…”
Becca cut her off before she could continue. “Maybe he didn’t want you to know that he knew, but he did. I don’t know if that’s connected. But he told me he thinks there was bad blood between Margaret and her husband. Really bad.”
A shrug led Clara to believe the black-clad girl didn’t care that much about the other woman’s distress. “Frank wasn’t serious about me. He was never going to leave her.”
It wasn’t a question, and Becca didn’t answer.
Gaia acted like she had heard something, though. Kicking at a pebble, her lower lip jutting out like a toddler’s, she glanced over at her companion. “I guess I messed up, huh?”
Becca held her tongue and the two walked in silence for a bit, until Gaia stopped and turned toward Becca. “You think that’s why she tried to frame me?”
“Frame you? Did you ever, um, meet at his office?”
“No.” Gaia looked miserable. “I went down to the lot once, but I didn’t like the sleazy guys he worked with. Is that where he…?” For a moment, the death of her former paramour seemed to register, before she brushed it away as if it were a mere annoyance. “No, I didn’t mean…that. Poor guy. Just that she tried to set me up for stealing.” She bit down on the words. “Why she told you, told everyone, that I was taking money out of the register.”
“And you weren’t?” Becca’s voice was as soft as kitten fur. “Not even as a loan?”
“Me? No.” Gaia scoffed at the idea. “I don’t care about money. If I did, you think I would have stayed in that dead-end job? Besides, Tiger’s always telling me I can work with him. He makes pretty decent money.”
“Do you like to ride?” Clara couldn’t tell if Becca was curious or slightly miffed. The little calico found herself relieved by the idea that the pale messenger still harbored feelings for this pale and painted girl.
“What? No, in sales. I’m good behind a counter,” she said, waving off any evidence to the contrary. Even as she did, the reality of her situation seemed to hit home. “Not that I’m going to get any kind of a reference now,” she moped.
“It does seem like maybe it was time to move on.” Becca spoke as gently as she could. “But you said you weren’t even sure you were fired.”
Another shrug. “I don’t know for certain. I mean, it’s Margaret’s shop, but I think her sister is really behind it. She’s the reason Margaret hired me.”
“She is?”
Margaret’s words came back to Clara as she watched her person take this in.
Gaia stretched out her black-clad arms. “I guess I look the part. Or I thought that’s what was happening anyway. Margaret said something about her sister telling her to get ‘that girl,’ like she had me in mind, special. Only I think Elizabeth had it out for me for a while. Just last week, I heard her telling Margaret that she’d made a mistake. That she’d hired the wrong girl. Actually, she kind of liked you.”
Gaia regarded Becca with a gimlet eye.
“Me?”
Gaia nodded. “She must have seen you when we talked. Or maybe it was when you came in to hang up that flyer. Anyway, she was all excited that you’d come back to the shop. Wanted Margaret to reach out to you right away.”
Becca bit her lip, and Clara knew she had to be thinking about Elizabeth and her sister. Margaret had reached out to Becca, all right, but as a client. And Becca had sent her away.
“Anyway, I don’t know for sure what’s going on, only that she came in and told me to get lost. That I was gone. But I don’t know. Truth is, I think she’s going senile. That old bat couldn’t even get your name right. She kept saying she was waiting for Clara.”
“Well, that’s curious.” Now it was Becca’s turn to look distracted. But Gaia didn’t give her a chance to think it through.
“Wait a minute.” She reached out for Becca’s hand again. “Something doesn’t make sense.”
Becca shook her head, waiting.
“If Tiger was only warning me because he wanted me to be more careful around those Cross witches, then why is he still worried? I mean, it’s not like I’m still going to see Frank. Unless…” Even under her smudged makeup, the goth girl’s pallor was obvious.
“You don’t think that Margaret, that that crazy lady… Or maybe she’s working with her sister. Maybe they did do something to Frank, and now they’re going to come for me.”
“But you just said that Elizabeth basically threw you out of the shop.”
“Yeah, she did. But maybe she did it because she knows something—something about Margaret.” Gaia held Becca’s wrist in a death grip as she leaned in close. “She wants me gone before I can find out what really happened. Or before her crazy sister can kill me, too.”
Chapter 18
“We’re going to the police.” It was a statement, not a question. Still, Gaia tried to wriggle out.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she quailed. “I was being silly. Tiger always says I overreact.”
“Tiger should be coming with us, too.” Becca pulled her phone out.
“No, please.” Gaia reached for her hand, but it was a plea not a grab for the device. “Let’s leave him out of this. I’ll go with you.”
Becca thought for a moment, then accepted with a quick nod. It must have taken all her self-control not to hold the other girl’s arm, Clara thought as she turned and started back into the square. At the end of the block, she slowed. The brick building that housed the shop and the Cross’s apartment lay straight ahead.
“Why don’t we duck behind the store?” Becca asked, turning toward Gaia. “Just in case.”
Gaia managed a wan smile in return, and the two turned down the side street that would take them past the back of Charm and Cherish. This was a boon for Clara, as the smaller one-way was both less trafficked and, at this hour, shadowed by the block of buildings. The lack of light appeared to have affected the two young women, however. As they passed the neighboring structu
res, they walked in silence, each lost in her own thoughts.
Once they neared the small lot in the rear of Charm and Cherish, Becca paused to look up the alley that ran alongside. But the narrow passageway was empty now except for shadows. Still, Becca was so preoccupied that she almost missed Gaia’s sudden intake of breath.
“What?” Becca turned to her.
The other girl appeared frozen in place, as if her glittery sneakers were glued to the sidewalk.
“I can’t,” she said. “I really can’t, Becca.”
She was staring ahead at the tiny lot. Only one car was parked there now, a battered tan Toyota that was rumbling as it belched out clouds of blue smoke. Over the top, Becca could see a wiry head of grey hair.
“Elizabeth.” Becca sighed. The older of the two sisters had clearly just exited the shop, that gunmetal gray door propped open behind her. The light from the small window just past the door shone down through the shadow, highlighting the silver in her hair. “Well, she’s probably just taking out the trash.”
Clara peered up at her person. Even from here it was apparent the older woman was speaking to someone in the car. Gaia must have seen it too, because she emitted a faint groan.
“Maybe it’s just someone asking for directions.” But sure enough, the Toyota began backing out with a scraping sound that didn’t speak well for the exhaust. As it turned, Becca strained to see. There was something familiar about the driver, Clara thought. But with the windows up, she could catch neither scent nor sound.
“Funny.” As Becca looked on, the car headed away, leaving the small lot empty except for the dumpster. Elizabeth turned back toward the building, then paused to examine a plastic milk crate that had been left beside the door. A moment later, she stood, shaking her head, and left it there as she went back inside, letting the door shut behind her.
“Anyway,” said Becca, “she’s gone.” With that, Clara’s person turned to her companion, only to find that the goth girl had disappeared as well.
***
“Gaia?” Becca called quietly, whirling around to check up the alley. But the black-haired girl was nowhere in sight.
“I may as well talk to Elizabeth.” Becca sounded resigned. “At the very least, she can fill in some blanks for me.”
With that, Becca walked up to the alley and, after a moment’s hesitation, followed it up to the street, Clara hard on her heels. When she paused on the street out front, Clara waited. For a few seconds, Clara thought she might even have thought better of her errand and decided to continue on her original mission. But to the little cat’s dismay, Becca was only once more looking around for the missing girl. And possibly, she realized, strategizing. Then, pulling herself upright, to make her petite frame as tall as could be, she walked up to the colorful store and entered, to the now familiar jangle. Clara had no choice but to follow behind, passing through behind her before the bells had quieted.
“Hello.” The shop appeared empty. Although Clara could make out sounds, nobody stood in Gaia’s place behind the counter or between the packed shelves. “Anyone here?”
“Coming,” a familiar voice called from the back room, and Becca headed toward it. But if she was hoping to check out the storeroom, she moved too slowly. Elizabeth stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her. She was wearing a smock and work gloves, and in one hand held a pair of secateurs. “Becca, dear,” she said with a smile as she pocketed the pruning shears. Although she was fully shaded, Clara ducked behind a display of crystals as her person stepped forward. “Welcome.”
“Elizabeth.” Becca was smiling, Clara could hear it in her voice. She could also hear the strain underneath. This was a ploy, she realized. Her person was trying to disarm the older woman. “I was hoping to speak with you or, perhaps, with Margaret.”
She stepped forward, toward the back room. Elizabeth didn’t move. “I’m afraid Margaret is indisposed,” she said. “I’m sure you understand, what with Frank and all.”
“Of course.” Becca agreed. “I’m wondering if the police have shared any information with you?”
“The police?” Elizabeth’s voice rose as she began to pull off her gloves. “Why would they tell me anything?”
“Well, I gather you’re here, taking care of your sister…” Becca caught herself before she finished the sentence. She wanted the older woman to reveal herself, Clara realized with admiration.
“I don’t take care of Margaret,” Elizabeth said so quickly that Becca caught her breath. “I do try to advise her, of course. But it’s not like she ever listens to me.”
“I gather you didn’t like Gaia, the girl who was working for her.”
“That fake?” She brushed her hands together, dismissing the shopgirl like a last bit of dirt. “No. I had no use for her. I told Margaret.”
“And I assume you shared your suspicions with the police?”
“Of course.” Elizabeth sounded very matter of fact. “But that doesn’t mean… Oh, dear! Becca!”
Clara started forward in time to see Becca begin to fall, her knees buckling. She grabbed the counter just as Elizabeth raced around to catch her.
“Poison!” The calico stared, wide-eyed, unsure of what to do or how to help.
“I’m fine.” Becca leaned heavily on the older woman. “I just got a little light-headed. If I could just sit down for a moment?”
“Of course.” Arms still around Becca, she began backing up, kicking open the door behind her. And as Becca apparently regained her strength enough to walk through it, Clara relaxed. The move had been a ruse, a trick to get into the back room.
“Would you like some water?” Elizabeth asked, showing Becca to a worn couch. Despite its sprung upholstery, it looked comfortable, Clara thought, with deep cushions and soft velvet that still retained some of its pile. As her acute nose informed her of its other recent usage, her ears went back. This, then, was where Frank and Gaia had their assignations.
The odors were too faint for Becca to notice, however. And as Elizabeth hurried over to a corner, where a sink and hot plate made for a makeshift kitchenette, she took in her surroundings. In front of the sofa, a scarred wooden coffee table held two dirty mugs as well as an opened deck of Tarot cards. Metal shelving lined the walls, stuffed with books and boxes, several wrapped in cellophane. The door to the shop remained ajar, as did one by the sink, revealing a small lavatory below a smoked-glass window. As Elizabeth ran the tap, Becca craned around to see the exit to the street. Her view was nearly blocked by large cardboard boxes, some open, others taped shut. Someone was in the midst of packing, though whether that work would require pruning shears or gloves, Clara didn’t know.
“Here you go.” Elizabeth slid onto the sofa beside Becca, handing her a plastic beaker of water.
“Thanks.” Becca managed a smile but did not, Clara was glad to see, drink. Instead, she turned to face the open boxes. “Are you, uh, changing out the inventory?”
“That? Oh, yes.” Elizabeth appeared flustered, as if she were seeing the boxes for the first time. “I’m afraid Margaret let things go, and so I figured that while I’m here I would try to get things in order. There’s so much that’s outdated and nothing has been taken proper care of. Of course, it would be a huge help if we had a proper staff.”
Becca nodded. “I ran into Gaia.”
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. “That girl,” she said. “She didn’t belong here. She had no feeling for the craft.”
Becca’s eyes narrowed. For a moment, Clara thought, she resembled Laurel. “That’s why you let her go?”
A startled laugh. “You thought—because of Frank? No, she did Margaret a favor, though my sister doesn’t see it that way. Frank was a liability from the get-go. She’ll be much better off now that he’s gone.”
Before Becca could respond, the jingling of bells announced the opening of the store’s front door.
“Elizabeth, are you there?” a voice, nasal and a little whiny
, called.
“Margaret?” She rose and turned. “Coming!”
Becca followed her back through to the front of the shop.
“Glad you’re feeling better.” She greeted her sister with a hug.
“What? Oh, hi, Becca.” The shorter sister had her coat on, and her pink cheeks attested to a longer walk than the half block from her apartment. Still, she bobbed her head toward her sister. “Yes, thank you, Elizabeth. The nap did me good.”
Becca looked from one sister to the other, but bit back whatever response she was about to make. “I’m glad you came by,” she said instead. “I’ve been meaning to offer my condolences. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The new widow sniffed, a bit dramatically. “Thanks. It was a shock.”
When nothing else followed, Becca leaned in. “If you’re up for it. I was also hoping to ask you a few questions.”
“Questions?” Even a human couldn’t have missed the way the two sisters locked eyes. But if Becca saw anything, she chose, once more, not to comment. Instead, she simply smiled and waited. “Of course,” said Margaret. “Elizabeth, would you make tea?”
With another glance at Becca, the taller of the two sisters retreated into the back. Margaret, meanwhile, removed her coat and carried it around the back of the counter. Although she sniffed again, Clara suspected that had as much to do with the chill outside that had pinked her cheeks as with grief. Surely, Becca had to notice that the widow had seemed more upset at the idea of her husband leaving her than at his death?
“With everything that’s going on, I can’t believe that Elizabeth fired my only employee.”
“I thought she was following your wishes?” Becca spoke quietly, so as not to be overheard by the woman in the back.
