by Cate Martin
"Your grandmother was eccentric then?" Sophie asked with an indulging smile.
"Eccentric? Yes, you could call her that," Mina said with a faraway look on her face. "She always had the most gorgeous things. Spanish shawls and golden trinkets and so much jewelry. I rather wonder where it all went when she passed."
"Gifts from suitors?" I asked, trying to imagine a reason she would be named in William Brown's will. I remembered the single conversation I had had with him. He didn't seem the type to be nostalgic for a past love.
"Suitors?" Mina said as if pondering the word. "I never thought of that. Perhaps some of them were. Even in old age, she was a stunning woman. More than just her looks; when she stepped into a room, she instantly had everyone's attention. What's the phrase? Magnetic personality."
"Perhaps she was friends with Mr. Brown then?" I asked.
"Oh, perhaps," Mina said, but she didn't sound convinced.
"Not a lover, not a friend," I said, ticking off my fingers. "Did they maybe have a business connection?"
"That's what I've been assuming," Mina said. "My grandmother had many important business connections."
"Was she an investor?" I asked.
"Some sort of deal maker?" Sophie added.
"Consultant?" Brianna offered. Mina turned to Brianna with a grin.
"Consultant. Perhaps 'advisor' is the better word?" Mina said.
Mina was still looking at Brianna with that smile on her face, which left me free to examine Mina's face in detail. She seemed sincere. Her eyes matched her facial expression, and I saw no twitches, tics or tells to hint that she might be lying.
And yet, I felt like she might be toying with us. Maybe not in a diabolical way. More like she was having a bit of fun at our expense.
"What's the best word for it?" Sophie asked, still giving Mina her most winning smile.
"Medium," Mina said with a triumphant grin. "My grandmother was a medium, a fortuneteller, a communer with spirits. And she made many men rich, far richer than the gifts she had left at the end of her life would indicate. That's gratitude for you. Not that I'm complaining. I've managed to live quite nicely on the trust fund she left behind for me."
There was a sound from outside of two more cars pulling close to the curb to park behind Mr. Trevor.
"You have other visitors," I said, getting to my feet. "We won't take up any more of your time."
"It was very nice to meet you," Mina said, getting up from her own chair to walk us to the door. She was very spry for 71. More than just a lack of aching joints or unsteady gait; she moved like a trained athlete. But then, living off a trust fund as she did, she had probably always had time enough for exercise, for an active hobby or two.
"Thank you for your time," Sophie said. "If you should ever need anything, we live right next door to the house you're inheriting."
"Oh, that's very sweet of you, but I can't imagine myself knocking about in such a large, empty space," Mina said. "Perhaps the historical society would appreciate it? But honestly, I can't see how that decades-old will could still be legally binding. I doubt I'll see a penny. Which is just fine with me."
"Oh, Ms. Fox? One last thing?" I asked as she opened the front door to let us out and the police officers and lawyers in.
"Yes, dear?" she asked.
"What was your grandmother's name? Just for curiosity's sake."
"Her name was Cora. Cora Fox," Mina said.
"Thank you."
I was relieved to see that neither of the police officers waiting on the front porch was Nelson, although one of them quirked an eyebrow in a way that made me suspect that our descriptions had gotten around.
Even in a time when the charm school was long closed, its reputation for being filled with exceptional young ladies in the forgotten past, we made a threesome that was easy to describe and hard to forget. And we were already gaining a bit of a reputation all on our own.
"Well?" Mr. Trevor asked as he climbed into the car.
"Home," Brianna said.
"Then to 1927," Sophie added. "We have some leads to follow up."
Chapter 12
Brianna didn't seem to feel the cold as she moved from birdbath to sundial to clothesline, waving her wand and staring into the air as if it contained some sort of readout that only she could see. Which it probably did. She had put a wool coat on over her day dress but hadn't bothered with any of the buttons, just let it swing around her in the chill breeze as she worked.
I, on the other hand, was freezing. I had chosen a sweater and skirt set and was also wearing a wool coat, but I missed modern technology's wind-blocking materials.
Sophie finally came out to join us, swinging a beaded handbag in one hand and toying with her long necklace with the other. She saw me watching her as she came down the porch steps and gave me a little wink then adjusted the cloche on her head. Like Brianna, she wore her coat open, but in her case, I knew it was a deliberate choice to show off the stunning dress beneath. The slinky material was a deep, rich red, almost too lustrous for daytime but she pulled it off.
"You like it?" she asked, giving a little turn.
"It's you," I said diplomatically.
"You have nicer things in your closet, you know," she said. "Although the blue of your sweater does match your eyes nicely."
"Girls my size are not what the creators of the dropped waist look had in mind," I said.
"Nonsense," Sophie said.
"Are we ready?" Brianna asked.
"Ready," Sophie said, grasping her handbag more firmly as she started dancing in slow turns around the orchard.
I didn't bother trying to see the magic. I was hoping it would be like a zen thing, where I could succeed only when I let the effort go. But I still really wanted to see something, which is probably why I didn't.
October 1927 was bright and sunny, and very hot.
"My goodness," I said, unbuttoning my coat and slipping it off my shoulders. "It's like 80."
"Yes, how odd," Brianna said, pulling her notebook out of her pocket and writing furiously. "Both points are fixed in time and move in conjunction; I should be able to create a device that can tell us the weather before we cross over. Sort of a magical barometer," she said, flipping a page and resting the book against her thigh before sketching the rough outlines of what she was thinking of.
"Also, we could just consult the almanac in the library," Sophie said.
"No, what Brianna is thinking looks way cooler," I said.
"So, what are we doing first?" Sophie asked.
"Let's find Cora Fox first," I said. "It seems like that might take longer than the locator spell. I don't suppose there's any sort of address directory we could consult?"
"If she's even listed in such a thing," Sophie said.
"She must advertise," I said.
"I think mediums tended to find work by word of mouth," Brianna said, slipping her notebook into her dress pocket and only then taking her coat off. "Let's leave our coats in the house and take a look around. Maybe there's a directory in the library, or a local paper or something that might have a hint of where she could be."
Just like every other time we had gone back to 1927, we saw no sign of Miss Zenobia or any of the charm school students. Brianna had some theories as to why this was, involving time paradoxes and the like. We knew the school was active at the time, the neighbors saw other students coming and going, but we never did.
When we went into the kitchen there were three teacups sitting around the table, some half-drunk but all still gently steaming, as if someone had heard us coming and just got up and walked away before we came in.
We left our coats hanging from the hooks near the front door then went up to the second floor to the library. In 2018 Mr. Trevor brought the newspapers upstairs in the morning and left them out on a table near the glass doors that led out to the front porch. He had never traveled back in time himself, but someone in 1927 had the same job. Sophie and I started turning pages of newsprint while
Brianna went deeper into the library in search of a directory.
"Nothing in mine," I said as I turned the last page.
"Nor mine," Sophie said, picking up her paper to look more closely at the classifieds then shook her head. "Not a thing."
"There is a directory, but she's not in it," Brianna said. "Should we try the locator spell instead?"
"I have a thought," Sophie said. "Mediums were really con artists, right? Maybe the criminal underground is the way to go."
"You mean Otto?" I asked.
"He seemed like he had his fingers in a lot of pies," Sophie said.
"Yes," I agreed. "If he doesn't know where to find her, he certainly knows how to find out."
"So what are we going to do?" Brianna asked. "Just walk down there? Alone?"
"Sure," Sophie shrugged.
"But what if he's not there?" Brianna asked.
"Then we ask," Sophie said.
"It does seem like a rough neighborhood, even in the middle of the day," I said, and Brianna looked relieved that I understood her.
"Everyone knows we're from the school and respects us, remember?" Sophie said.
"I don't know if we know that for sure," Brianna said.
"Maybe we should find Edward first," I said.
"It's the middle of the workday," Sophie said. She picked up one of the newspapers to doublecheck the date in the header. "Yes, it's a Thursday here. And we don't know where he lives or where he works."
"But we know who might," I said. "Let's see if Coco is around."
"Again, we have a middle of the school day problem," Sophie said, but the three of us went outside anyway.
I hadn't made any particular wish to find Coco, and I hadn't had one of my feelings, but I wasn't entirely surprised when she was coming down her front steps just as we were coming down ours. She had an apple in her hand and took an enormous bite out of it as she gave us a happy wave.
"Hello, Coco!" I called. "I'm sure you're on your way back to school after lunch, but can we talk to you for a moment?"
"Sure," Coco said around a mouthful of apple and trotted over to stand under the tree with us. She swallowed then grinned up at us. "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm home in the middle of the day?"
"Don't you come home every day for lunch?" Sophie asked.
"No. I wish I did, our food is so much nicer," Coco said, taking another bite from the apple. "No, we were supposed to have stew today. You know what they do on stew day, don't you? They just use up all the rotten leftover bits from earlier in the week. So nasty! So do you know what my friend Carol and I did? We hid all the spoons. Every last one of them. They had to send us all home! If only we could sneak them all out of the school and bury them down by the river, we'd never have to eat their food again."
"Somehow I doubt that's going to work," Sophie said, but she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face.
"Coco," I said. "We're looking for Edward. Do you know where we can find him?"
"He's not here," Coco said.
"But do you know where he works? Or where he lives?"
Coco gave a disinterested shrug and continued to munch at her apple.
"Coco," Brianna said. "Do you know when he was here last?"
Coco wiped her sleeve across her mouth. "Yesterday afternoon. My sister Ivy had some guests before dinner. He was one of them."
"Thank you, Coco," Brianna said.
"You should get on to school before you're late," Sophie said.
Coco rolled her eyes but started walking backwards away from us. "I'll see you around?"
"Certainly," I agreed, and she turned and started running down the street.
I turned to Brianna. "How does knowing he was here yesterday help us?" I asked.
"I'm guessing a spell," Sophie said, and Brianna nodded. She looked around carefully to be sure no one was about before taking out her wand. She waved it over the grass in a low sweeping motion and murmured some words under her breath.
"Nice," Sophie said, looking at the grass all around her.
"What?" I asked, not seeing anything.
"Footprints," Sophie said. "Glowing footprints."
"Too many footprints," Brianna frowned. "Okay, I think I can narrow it down. If I alter the fourth syllable, I'll just be looking for the paths left by men. And if I stress the end bit a touch more, it should skew to younger men."
She waved her wand and whispered again as Sophie continued to turn this way and that, watching the grass around her.
"Four trails," Sophie said.
"I don't think I can modify it any better," Brianna said.
"Four's not so bad," I said. "Considering all of Ivy's suitors, this is probably the best you're going to get."
"This one," Sophie said, pointing towards the sidewalk.
"Why that one?" Brianna asked. "It's no different than the others."
"It feels like him," Sophie said with complete confidence that she immediately undercut by giving a little shrug. "I mean, we have to start somewhere."
"Okay," Brianna agreed.
I was a sweaty mess pretty much the minute we started walking. Brianna's dress had long sleeves, but the fabric was still fairly light, and she seemed comfortable. Sophie's dress was sleeveless; she was cool in both senses of the word. But my sweater was as bad a choice here as it had been back home when it had failed to keep out the cold.
Luckily we didn't have far to walk. The footsteps led us towards the cathedral then down a cobblestoned side street called Maiden's Lane. There were a few houses, but mostly the buildings here were carriage houses for the mansions built on the ridge where the slope was too steep for such things.
Of course, most of the inhabitants of Summit Avenue had cars now, not carriages, but the brick structures remained. And many looked like they had apartments over them.
The trail of footprints I couldn't see led about halfway down the narrow road before taking a sudden turn to the right, up a narrow flight of stairs to one of those little apartments.
"Do they end here?" I asked as Sophie started up the stairs.
"At the door," Brianna said. "Why?"
"What if he's not home? You don't see any path leading to where he might work?"
"No, just the one set of prints," Brianna said.
Sophie was already knocking on the door. She knocked again a moment later as Brianna, and I looked up at the dingy windows. They were so small and so filthy it was impossible to see even a hint of anything on the other side. He could be standing there now staring back out at us, and we'd never know.
Sophie knocked a third time, then gave us a shrug as she started back down the stairs.
"Now what?" I said.
"Time for Plan B," Sophie said, fanning herself with a fan that matched her dress. I was going to have to set some time aside to really explore what my own closets contained.
"Was Plan B the locator spell or going to see Otto ourselves?" I asked.
Sophie had been looking up at the apartment windows. She glanced back over her shoulder at me, but whatever words she had been about to utter died on her lips, replaced with a sly smile.
"Ladies," a voice said, and I turned to see Edward standing right behind me in the middle of the road. "It's lovely to see you again, although I'm curious how you knew where I live, and why you came here if you're looking for Otto?"
Chapter 13
I might have been caught off guard and left a little tongue-tied, but Sophie was as smooth as ever. Edward readily believed that Coco had given us directions and was amused by an abbreviated accounting of the missing spoons. Then she had him explaining all about his work in an office downtown and agreeing to forego his planned lunch at home for a hot meal off the street if he would agree to escort us back to Otto's hideaway.
"I know a man who sells the best hot sausages," Edward said as we walked into town. "He's from Bavaria originally. Old family recipe, he says. And he serves them up in a hard roll that's worth the cost all in itself."
&nbs
p; "Well, it's our treat since you're helping us out," Sophie said.
"It does sound fantastic," I said, and my stomach growled aloud just at the mental image. I was embellishing a lot from what he had told us, mostly because I was incredibly hungry and nothing beats Bavarian sausage.
"I haven't seen you around lately," Edward said, and I realized Sophie and Brianna had fallen a few paces behind us, deep in a whispered conversation of their own. His suit lacked a jacket and I suspected he had left it behind when he had headed out for lunch. He had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, and I wondered how he maintained such nice muscle tone while trapped in a desk job.
"I've been away," I said. "I had to go back to Iowa to take care of some things, but I'm here to stay now."
"That's good," he said, then cleared his throat nervously. Was I making him nervous?
"How are things with Ivy?" I asked, and he moaned.
"Oh, the same," he said at my questioning look. "We exchange letters, and it's like we're both thinking and feeling the same things, but then I go to see her, and there are all these other fellows who seem like they feel the same way, like she's the perfect one for them. But it's just as well if she's not ready to choose one of us. I'm hoping to get a promotion soon that will really increase my prospects."
"Yes, I suppose it would be difficult to make a marriage proposal to a girl like Ivy. She would have a lot of expectations," I said as diplomatically as I could.
"Yes," Edward said and cleared his throat again. "Her father has taken a shine to me, which is terrific. He sees how serious I am and how hard I work. And Ivy and Coco are his only children. No sons. So whoever Ivy marries will probably be the one to take over his business someday. Which is why I really hope I get this promotion. I'll have more responsibilities, that just has to impress him."
"And if you could afford to move into a nicer apartment?" I said with a smile.