by Cate Lawley
“Are you twelve?” Although that wasn’t fair, because twelve seemed a little young for someone with a porn fascination. I could only hope he’d gotten that out of his system while locked up with Nick and his aunt.
A knock at the door precluded a response, but I gave him a look that said this conversation was not over. I answered the door to find Sylvie on my doorstep.
“I saw you were home and that the lights were still on. I just wanted to see how everything went at the vet’s office.” She lifted a basket. “For Clarence.”
I gestured for her to come inside. She hesitated, but then nodded.
Clarence stretched and then began a slow saunter to his bedroom. “Hi, Sylvie. Excuse me while I sleep off my bender. I gotta get some shut-eye, or I’m a gonna be a cranky kitty.” He gave me some side-eye, and I knew he was thinking he’d avoided our little heart-to-heart about pornography, alcohol, and gluttony—oh, and wandering away with any murderous stranger who invited you for beer and brats.
Sylvie indicated the basket she’d brought. “I’ll leave this in the kitchen for you.”
“Oh, that’s for me?” Clarence scanned the basket. I’d swear his eyes lit up at the little stuffed mouse and the kitty grass, but he retrieved the DVD. “Thanks!” He had to speak around the DVD clenched in his mouth, but his enthusiasm was unmistakable.
He also hotfooted it to his room much faster than my seven-hundred-dollar vet bill would have indicated possible.
Sylvie watched him go with a conflicted look. “I guess he’s feeling better. Wait, can he operate a disc player on his own?”
“He can type, use the phone—including programming my new cell phone—and open doors. I think it’s safe to say he can manage it.” Except we didn’t have a player for those discs, so he was likely thieving my laptop right now to watch it. Sylvie looked guilty enough, so I kept that tidbit to myself. “What movie did you bring him?”
That brought a smile to her face. “My Fair Lady. I loved that movie as a child. I don’t know if he’ll like it, but I thought I’d give it a try. Anything to get him interested in something besides bare breasts.”
“Agreed, and thank you.” I took the basket from her and headed to the kitchen. “Kitty grass?” It was a bright green and a few inches tall.
She shrugged, looking sheepish. “I couldn’t exactly go to bed, you know, not knowing…” She shook her head, then licked her lips. “I squeezed in at the big-box store just a few minutes before they were closing. I asked the lady at the pet store, who was a little put out. I told her it was a get-well basket, and she started to grab these things from the shelves. So I just went with it. The DVD I already had.”
“Can I get you a glass of wine?” I saw she was going to decline, and quickly added, “I’d like the company. Please.”
Lips pressed together, she nodded. “If you haven’t talked to Tamara, then you won’t know—Nicky’s been hospitalized. She thinks they’ll poke around for a while and eventually put him into care when they can’t figure out what’s wrong with him.”
She seemed to prefer red, so I retrieved a bottle of my favorite red and two glasses. “I feel a little bad for Mrs. G, being placed in that situation, but—”
“She’s moving.” Sylvie cleared her throat, turning slightly pink. “I suggested this might not be the best neighborhood for her, given the role she played in events.”
“That’s best for everyone, Sylvie, even Mrs. G. You did the right thing speaking up.”
As I opened the bottle, she settled herself at the kitchen table. She looked uncomfortable, ill at ease in a way that I’d not seen before. Sylvie normally glowed with a mellow cheerfulness that I found endearing, and I missed that.
Picking up a glass, I started to pour. “This wasn’t your fault.” Since she wouldn’t meet my eyes, I figured I might have hit the nail on the head. Unless . . . “Or maybe you think Clarence and I—”
“No! Poor Clarence.” Then she grinned. “Although it was a little funny to find him in that state after expecting just about anything else.” She chuckled, caught my eye, and then broke into a belly-deep laugh along with me.
When our amusement had died down to intermittent chuckles, we sipped our wine and shared what I thought was a rather companionable silence.
But perhaps not, because when Sylvie did speak, it wasn’t of companionable things. “You know it was my fault. If not mine directly, then my family’s.”
“I’m not sure I’d claim Nick as family. Or even Mrs. G. She was wrapped up in events that I suspect spiraled out of control. Under normal circumstances, she’s probably not a person to make those choices.”
“I’m sure you’re not wrong. Although”—her nostrils flared as she toyed with her wine glass—“she probably befriended me in pursuit of that stupid rock. Either way, she and I both will be happier if she’s living across town.” She took a sip of wine. “As to family, Geoff, whatever you say, you can’t actually pick and choose them. They are or they aren’t.”
“Not very happy with your grandmother right now, are you?”
She looked up from her wine glass, and there was anger on her face. “No. No I’m not. How could she keep that from me? Not prepare me or tell me anything about our history.” She drew a deep breath. “And don’t get me started on my parents. If denial were a disease, they’d be eaten up with it.” Her eyes widened suddenly, and she covered her face. “Ugh. What a terrible thing to say.”
“First, cut your grandmother some slack. From everything I can tell, you adored her and she adored you. Don’t let what’s happened in the last few days change that. And remember, you were just a child when she died. Whatever power your family has, there’s probably a reason the bulk is passed through inheritance. Maybe it’s simply too much for a child. Maybe it needs to be given to the right person at the right time.”
She sighed. “Rationally, I know these things. But I’m mad. Knowing her, she probably wanted me to have as normal a childhood as possible. I did adore her.” A sad smile tugged at her lips.
“As for your parents—”
She interrupted me with a groan, and I couldn’t help a tug of sympathy at the sound.
“Yeah, a lot of people feel that way. But give them a break. Most people are doing the best they can. Maybe not everyone, but most.” I thought of my own parents, long gone, and knew in my heart that they’d done the best they could.
“Hector was right. You are an eternal optimist.”
“Be that as it may, I find most people turn a willfully blind eye to the wonders of the world when those wonders are touched by magic.” I leaned forward and touched her very gently on the forehead. “Consider yourself officially inducted into the special club. Now you have the ability to see. And that’s thanks to your grandmother.”
She grinned at my silliness and her dimple peeked out. “So you don’t blame me for your friend’s abduction or being pulled into a mess of explosions and family inheritance disputes?”
“One explosion, but not in the least. In fact, I was rather hoping that you would help me with a mess of my own.” I looked around. “Can you tell if we’re alone? You know . . .” I pointed to the corners of the room, where ghosts seemed to enjoy lurking.
“Oh.” She straightened in her seat. “Yes, I think I can do that. And I think it’s okay. What mess are we talking about?”
“Ah, so ‘mess’ isn’t quite a fair description. Mystery, perhaps? Genevieve Weber was murdered here in the neighborhood back in the seventies.”
She frowned at me. “Genevieve . . .” Her eyes widened. She hunched closer and lowered her voice. “Ginny?”
I nodded. “There’s something terribly wrong about the whole thing. Her death was misidentified as a suicide, her soul collection wasn’t entirely to protocol, and she came back. I didn’t even know souls that had crossed could come back. But regardless, it’s all quite unusual.”
“That does sound like a mystery.” Sylvie considered for a few seconds. “I’m in, on one
condition. You, Geoff Todd, have to tell me all about dating back in your day.”
“Ah . . .” Words failed me and my neck warmed. Ridiculous, because it was a simple enough trade. “Dating, ah, courting, yes, I can do that. Any particular reason?”
“Oh, no. None at all,” Sylvie said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
* * *
Don’t miss Geoff and the gang as they tackle Ginny’s mystery in the second Death Retired book. Sign up for my newsletter to receive a release announcement. Can’t wait to read more? Give my other humorous paranormal cozy series, Vegan Vamp Mysteries, a try!
Also by Cate Lawley
VEGAN VAMP
Adventures of a Vegan Vamp
The Client’s Conundrum
The Elvis Enigma
The Nefarious Necklace
The Halloween Haunting
The Selection Shenanigans coming in 2018
* * *
DEATH RETIRED
Death Retires
* * *
THE GOODE WITCH MATCHMAKER
Timely Love
Ghostly Love
Deathly Love
Forgotten Love
The Goode Witch Matchmaker Collection
LUCKY MAGIC
Lucky Magic
Luck of the Devil
Luck of the Draw coming June 2018
* * *
Writing as Kate Baray
LOST LIBRARY
Lost Library
Spirited Legacy
Defensive Magic
Lost Library Collection: Books 1-3
Witch’s Diary
Lost Library Shorts Collection
The Covered Mirror: A Lost Library Halloween Short
Krampus Gone Wild: A Lost Library Christmas Short
SPIRELLI PARANORMAL INVESTIGATIONS
Spirelli Paranormal Investigations: Episodes 1-3
Spirelli Paranormal Investigations: Episodes 4-6
Entombed: A Spirelli Investigations Novel
* * *
Writing as K.D. Baray
BEAUREGARD
Mistaken: A Seth Beauregard Short
About the Author
Cate Lawley is the pen name for Kate Baray's sweet romances and cozy mysteries, including The Goode Witch Matchmaker and Vegan Vamp series. When she's not tapping away at her keyboard or in deep contemplation of her next fanciful writing project, she's sweeping up hairy dust bunnies and watching British mysteries with her pointers and hounds.
Cate also writes urban and paranormal fantasy as Kate Baray and thrillers as K.D. Baray.
For more information:
www.catelawley.com
