by Jane Hinchey
“Ha. And he believed you?” Paige snorted.
“Probably not.”
With a shrug, I pulled my tattered notebook out from under the counter. This was my work-in-progress book. I used it to play with new recipes. I’d started planning a blueberry muffin that I wanted to infuse with optimism. The first batch had tasted awful, but I definitely felt optimistic after taking a bite. I also had a strawberry cheesecake that I wanted to infuse with a sense of summer—the holiday vibe, long, hot days at the beach, sipping cocktails with the person you like most in the world by your side. With these cancellations, I had more time to spend on my new creations.
“Do you know a woman named Rebecca?” I asked Paige as I thumbed through my notebook.
“I know a couple of Rebecca’s. You’re going to have to give me a little more to go on.”
I laughed. Of course there were multiple Rebecca’s in Redmeadows. Duh. “All I know is that a woman named Rebecca was arguing with both Jodi and Ted yesterday at the afternoon tea. I’m wondering who she is. And how I can go about finding her.”
“Ah, well, no, I can’t help you. The Rebecca’s I know would never have been invited to a high society event like the Quinn’s’ afternoon tea. Do you have a description?”
“Shit. I don’t. I’m such an idiot. I should have asked Mrs. Quinn for one, but I didn’t. She was intent on ringing the Watcher and I bolted.”
“Mrs. Quinn called the Watcher on you?”
“No. She remembered the argument when we were talking. She wanted to share the info with the Watcher. And I didn’t want to get busted, so I high-tailed it out of there.”
“I’m guessing you got busted anyway?”
“Big time. I went to see Jodi, and who do I run into? Watcher Ben Hoffman. And he’d already spoken with Mrs. Quinn.”
“Was he awful to you?” Paige said sympathetically.
“The opposite. He was really nice, but insistent that I stop poking around. For my own safety.”
“He thinks you’re in danger?” Paige gasped, hand at her throat.
“Not really. He just pointed out that someone murdered Ted. If that someone discovers I’m poking around—and possibly getting close to revealing their identity—well, I could become a target.”
“He’s right! I hadn’t thought of it that way before. Shit, Kristina, this could get dangerous.”
“Which is why I’m here in the kitchen, baking.”
Paige studied me for a long moment. “You’re not going to drop it.”
I shrugged. No need to implicate her. If things went pear-shaped, then what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.
I hoped.
4
“Meow.”
“I’ll be careful, Velma. I promise.”
“Meow. Meooooow.”
“No, I will not stay in tonight.”
“Meeeeooooow.”
“I’ll be back real quick, and I’m using a cloaking spell. Okay? Happy now?”
“Mrooow.”
“Good girl.” I scratched behind her ears and she purred, rubbing against my hand. Velma was a worrier. She’d heard me muttering as I got changed into my cat burglar costume. Well, I didn’t have a cat burglar costume, but I was dressed in black. Black chucks, black jeans, black long sleeve T-shirt, black beanie. It wasn’t really necessary since I’d be casting a cloaking spell so humans couldn’t see me, but I was in 007 mode and I wanted to dress the part. Why? Because tonight I was going to spy on Jodi. She was involved in this somehow. I just knew it. My plans had been momentarily thwarted by Ben, but I hadn’t let his words of caution deter me for long.
Once I was home from the shop, I’d prepared dinner, fed Velma, and then headed upstairs for a shower, the whole time plotting and pondering my next move. I needed to find out what Jodi knew. It was doubtful she would tell me anything useful personally, so stealth was my only option.
Dropping a quick kiss on top of Velma’s soft head, I headed downstairs and out the front door, pausing on the step to cast my spell. Once done, I hurried down the remaining steps and out onto the footpath. I stopped and waited for a minute. A couple were approaching—the perfect chance to test my spell. Would they see me? I stood to one side and pulled faces. Nothing. They walked right past, oblivious to my presence.
Jodi didn’t live far from me, only a couple of streets over. While Redmeadows was quite big, it was also quite small, depending on the circles you moved in. Given that I’d just rendered myself invisible, I couldn’t catch a cab, so I set off at a light jog, mindful to slow to a walk when people came near, lest they hear the thud of my footsteps. While my apartment was a standalone, narrow, three-story red brick building, Jodi lived in a multi-level apartment complex.
Out of breath, I stood outside for a few minutes, eyeing the building. Glancing at the time on my phone, I sent up a prayer, hoping I’d timed it right. Paige had found out that Jodi attended Pilate’s classes on Monday nights. She should be getting home right about now, and I could follow her all the way into her apartment. If I’d already missed her, then tonight had been a colossal waste of time.
The heavy scent of vanilla and sweat hit my nostrils and I turned. There she was, all flushed and sweaty in her workout gear. As she moved past me, I glided in behind her, careful not to touch her or give her that prickly sensation of someone standing too close, but I also made sure I wasn’t so far away that I couldn’t slip through the door behind her.
So far, so good. We were in the foyer. I waited while she got her mail, then followed her into the lift, maneuvering myself into the front right-hand corner, away from the panel. She hit the button for the eleventh floor and flipped through her mail while the elevator delivered us smoothly upwards.
With a ping, the doors opened into a long, narrow hallway. She turned left, and I followed all the way to the end. Nice—she had a corner apartment. Again I squeezed in behind her as she unlocked her front door, just before she kicked it closed behind her, flicking the deadbolt and chain in place.
Oh, crap. I hadn’t thought about how I was going to get out!
Jodi’s apartment was the perfect size, neither too big nor too small. Its open plan had a sleek white kitchen off to one side, a dining area next to it, and a lounge area along the big windows at the front of the building. All of it was decorated like a spread from a magazine. Mostly neutrals, accented with splashes of light blue, with a sea shell here and there. Very tasteful. And very different from my eclectic decorating efforts. If I saw something I liked, I’d get it, with little thought about whether it would match what was already in my home. Jodi appeared to have purchased every last item in her apartment with a certain design idea in mind. I kind of envied her that. Her place looked neat, tidy, and well put together.
She dropped the mail onto a side table and crossed to an open door on the far side of the room. Her bedroom. I stopped in the doorway when she started pulling her clothes off, tossing them at the overflowing hamper in the corner on her way to the bathroom. I had no desire to spy on Jodi naked. Quickly stepping back into the lounge, I started to look around in earnest. But now that I was in her living room, ideas failed me.
I wanted proof she knew Rebecca. I wanted a lead that would tell me who Rebecca was and where I could find her. I hadn’t stopped to think about what those leads might actually be. Hurrying into the kitchen, I began pulling out drawers, looking for an address book, a diary, a journal, anything that might have the information I needed. Nothing. Just tons of recipe books, but then again, like me, she liked to cook. I had to stop myself from flipping through her recipe books—I’d give her that courtesy at least.
Finding nothing in the kitchen, I shuffled through the mail she’d left by the door. Bills. Junk mail. Nothing exciting or incriminating. I searched the lounge, looking under cushions, skimming through the bookcase. Nothing.
Damn it.
The shower shut off and I crept over to the bedroom door, pressing my back against the wall just outside. I listened as she
moved around. It sounded like she was putting clothes on, thank God, otherwise this whole escapade would have gotten a ton more awkward. She breezed past me in a cloud of vanilla and my nose twitched. Holy shit. Do not sneeze. Do NOT sneeze. I pinched my nose, breathing through my mouth, until the urge passed.
Jodi had pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and was busy pouring herself a glass. I slipped into her bedroom and began quietly opening drawers. Then, on the bedside table, I saw it. A photo of Jodi with another woman. They had their arms around each other. Jodi’s blonde head rested against the brunette’s. The brunette looked vaguely familiar. Had I seen her at the afternoon tea? Could this be Rebecca? Picking up the frame, I carefully removed the backing. Bingo! Printed in neat handwriting were the words Jodi and Rebecca, summer 2012. Putting the frame back together I slid my phone out of my back pocket to snap a photo. Now I knew what this Rebecca looked like. But if they were friends—close enough friends that Jodi kept a photo of her in her bedroom—there had to be more. A phone number. An address.
Then it hit me. How could I be so dumb? Where else would you keep that sort of thing but on your phone? Duh! I crept out of the bedroom and discovered Jodi now curled up on the sofa with her glass of wine, her phone in her hand as she scrolled through whatever was on her screen. Silently, I crossed and stood behind her, peering over her shoulder at her phone. She was on Facebook, posting updates and commenting on statuses.
Then I saw her like a post by Rebecca Keller. I straightened, then froze when Jodi twisted to look over her shoulder, right at me.
Thank God my spell held, otherwise this would have been incredibly awkward. With a shrug, she returned to her phone. I retreated to the kitchen, pulling myself up onto the counter. I sat and waited. I had no choice; I couldn’t slip out of the apartment until Jodi went to sleep. By the grace of God, I’d discovered something useful, but now it was time to get the hell out of dodge.
For two hours, I sat on that kitchen counter waiting for the social media queen to put her damn phone down and go to bed. Geez. I’d promised Velma I wouldn’t be long—plus, my concealment spell would start to fade soon. As it was, I’d propped myself up on the floor behind the bench, just in case it wore off while she was still awake.
Finally, the lights went out, and I could hear the bed creak as she climbed beneath the covers. I waited a little longer, listening as she tossed and turned until there was nothing. Creeping across the room, I poked my head around the door. She looked like she was asleep. I wasn’t going to poke her to find out.
Back at the front door, I slid the chain off, biting my lip as I tried not to make a sound in the now quiet apartment. The deadbolt clicked, the sound horrifically loud. I froze, listening. Nope—she was still asleep, or simply hadn’t heard me.
Gripping the door handle in my sweaty palm, I turned, wincing as that, too, made too much noise for my liking. I slid through the gap in the door and closed it behind me as quietly as I could. I cast a quick spell to make it impossible for anyone to break in despite the door being unlocked. Then I hurried down the corridor, back into the lift, and out into the street, jogging all the way home.
“Meow meow meow!”
“Yes, I know I’m late. My humblest apologies, oh furry one. It couldn’t be helped. But I have good news, Velma…” I scooped her up into my arms, nuzzling my face into her neck. “I found out who Rebecca is. Full name: Rebecca Keller, and she and Jodi are friends. Good friends, by the looks of it.”
With Velma still cradled in my arms, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, plopping her down on my bed with another quick kiss. Next step? Find out everything I could about Rebecca Keller.
5
“Care to explain what you were doing in Jodi O’Flannigan’s apartment last night?” Ben stood outside my door, frowning.
“Who said I was?” I bluffed, turning away and leaving him standing on the doorstep.
“She called the police this morning. Thinks someone may have entered her apartment while she was sleeping. She swore her door was deadlocked and chained when she went to bed last night, but when she got up this morning, it was unlocked. She also got the sensation someone was watching her last night. Care to explain that?” He’d followed me into the house and now stood in the kitchen doorway.
“Overactive imagination?” I busied myself making us both coffee. I had no idea how Ben took his and rather than ask—he was a little intimidating in cop mode—I simply made his the way I took mine. White with one.
Holding the mug out to him, I gave him a tentative smile. Of course, Jodi had called the cops. And it had been silly of me to assume Ben didn’t have connections with the human police force.
“You can cut the crap, Kristina. I know it was you.” He accepted the mug and took a sip. “Your magic was all over the place.”
“Oh.” Busted. Of course, another witch would know I’d been there. And to be honest, I hadn’t thought Jodi would call the police just because she thought she’d locked the front door. Anyway, she’d been perfectly fine. I’d made sure the door was secure.
“I told you we’re taking care of this,” Ben said. “Sit tight. Keep your nose out of it.”
“Sure.” I shrugged. I had no intention of doing that, and I was sure he knew it.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you believe me?”
He shook his head. “You’re impossible.”
I sipped my coffee, looking at him over the rim. He was as gorgeous as ever, his face freshly shaven, his hair neat. He hadn’t run his fingers through it yet. I liked him a bit rough around the edges, with a bit of stubble. Oh, who was I kidding? I liked him full stop.
“What are you thinking about?” Those dark eyes zeroed in on me and I swallowed, drowning in them.
“You really don’t want to know,” I croaked, clearing my throat.
“Maybe I do.” His voice dropped to a deep husky growl and my lady parts tingled. Holy shit. Taking my coffee cup from my hand, he set it on the countertop, placing his next to it. Then he cupped my face in his hands and slowly lowered his head. My eyes drifted closed, the anticipation of his kiss almost killing me.
“Shit,” he cursed, and my eyes sprung open.
He released me, stepping away, and I looked on in confusion. Why was he backing down? When he reached into his pocket and took out his buzzing phone, I finally clued in.
“Hoffman,” he barked into the phone, running his hand through his hair, much to my delight. “Yeah, I checked it out. No signs of a break-in.” He scowled at me, and I realized that whoever was on the other end of the phone was talking about Jodi’s intruder. A wave of guilt washed over me. Scaring her hadn’t been my intention. I had simply wanted information.
Ben turned and walked into the living room, his voice low as he continued talking on the phone. Picking up my coffee cup, I finished the rest in a long gulp before rinsing the cup and leaving it to drain on the sink.
“I’ve gotta go.” Ben said as he returned. He quickly drained his coffee, rinsed the cup, and set it down next to mine. The simple domesticity of the gesture warmed my heart.
“Stay out of trouble.” He brushed his knuckles across my cheek, then turned to go, leaving me in hormonal overload in my kitchen. The brush of his fingers on my skin had triggered a fire in my veins that had also pooled in my belly. It took several deep breaths to get myself back in order, and by then he was gone.
“I’ve found out a bit more about Rebecca Keller.” Paige plopped her laptop on the bench in Jam’s kitchen and angled it so I could see the screen while preparing a batch of inspiration icing to go on the cupcakes cooling on the rack.
“She is quite gorgeous, isn’t she?” I admired the young, slim brunette in the chic dress.
“Very. She’s married to a man who’s quite a bit older than her. Roger Keller. He doesn’t do social media, but from what I’ve been able to find out on Google, he runs a successful consulting business and is very rich. Family money.
Here’s a picture of the two of them that Rebecca posted.”
I looked at the photo of Rebecca with her husband, a little surprised. He was definitely older, and more on the plump side. He had his arm around her as he smiled at the camera. On the other hand, Rebecca’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She’d angled herself away from him, one arm crossed over the front of her body. This was not a happy couple.
Or, to be precise, she was not a happy wife. Roger appeared perfectly content.
“How long have they been married?” I asked.
“Four years.”
“Tell me about his family money.”
“It comes from his mother’s family, and she still controls the purse strings. Roger doesn’t have full access to the family fortune; it won’t be turned over to him until she dies.”
“Hmmm. Do you know any more about Jodi and Rebecca? Their friendship?”
“Yes. They were in college together. There’s a suggestion that they might have been a couple, but when I was going through the Facebook posts, I didn’t see either of them come out and say it. Jodi attended Rebecca’s wedding. After that, there weren’t as many pictures of them together. Maybe one or two a year.”
I blew out a sigh. It wasn’t a lot to go on. Maybe Jodi and Rebecca had been a couple until Roger and his money caught Rebecca’s attention. Once she’d married him, her friendship with Jodi had drifted. Not unusual—that often happened.
“I wonder what Jodi and Rebecca were fighting about,” I said. “Their relationship would have been old news. They wouldn’t still be fighting about it, would they? Maybe Rebecca did leave Jodi for Roger, but that was four years ago. And what has that got to do with Ted?”
“Maybe Rebecca was having an affair with Ted?” Paige chimed in.
I looked at her in surprise. That could work. Rebecca didn’t look happy in the photo with Roger, so maybe she’d taken a lover. Ted.
“I have to talk to her.” It was the only way to get to the truth. Paige and I could be barking up the wrong tree entirely. Rebecca could’ve been unhappy in the photo because her feet were hurting, for all we knew. I was trying to twist the clues to fit my story, and that just wouldn’t do.