I didn't have much time to prove it; if you believed Kerrity, I had only a couple days. I didn't doubt that she had the political pull needed to get an arrest warrant, if she wanted to.
I hated it, and I definitely didn't like it as a system, but it was the system, and I would have to play by the rules. At least for now.
“All right,” I said, although I wasn't sure who I was talking to.
Millie gave me a puzzled look.
“I talk to myself,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.
Now she looked like I was mad. Which I was, sort of. Millie crowded me towards the door, waiting until I was just outside before slamming the door in my face. “Goodbye,” she said through the door.
“Bye,” I said to the closed door, baffled.
“That could have gone worse,” Mocha said cheerfully.
She was sitting against the wall, licking her paw.
“Do you have anything else to add?”
“Things could have gone worse,” Mocha said again. “There, that’s helpful.”
“Do you say anything else?” I said, exasperated.
“I do indeed.” A pause. “That was something else. New words.”
“You're too smart for your own good,” I informed her tartly.
“I’ll now go cry in a corner,” Mocha said.
I rubbed my forehead. It was like having a child that was smart, yet still couldn't take care of itself. It seemed to be able to feed itself, at least a bit. Or either way, she hadn't mentioned food since breakfast.
“What next, oh wise one?” Mocha asked.
“You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I asked.
“Oh, I was,” she said affably. “I just want to hear what you’re going to say.” She gave me A Look. “I’m not going to give you the answer. You have to work for it.”
Eventually, eventually I would be grateful for these learning opportunities. But now? Now they were just aggravating. Even worse, I was fairly certain Mocha knew that.
My phone beeped, so I pulled it out of my pocket.
Where are you?
It was from Wren. She cared. After being on my own for six months, it was different having someone looking out for my welfare again.
Went and talked to Millie.
I’m at your place.
I blinked. I’ll be right there.
“Going to fill me in?” Mocha drawled.
“Maybe.” I shot her a look. Payback, right?
Wren was waiting at the gate when I parked my car, fingers tapping restlessly on her thigh and anxiety written all over her face. She met me at my car door. “You okay?” she asked.
“Dealt with politics, but I’m generally unharmed.” In retrospect, it was sort of funny.
“You met Kerrity, then.” She looked dark, but it faded quickly. If the politics had been going on long enough that I was getting in the middle of it, it had probably been frustrating to them for much longer.
“Is she always like that?” I asked, even though I was fairly certain I knew the answer.
“Yes,” Theo said, appearing from behind the gate.
“Wait, where did you come from?” I balked, feeling confronted.
Theo gave me an odd look. “I went upstairs and knocked on your door. That’s why Wren texted you.”
Oh. “Sorry.” I ran a hand through my hair, getting caught in a couple tangles that had formed since that morning. It felt like days had passed, when in reality it was less than twelve hours.
“You talked to Millie?” Wren asked, apprehensive.
I nodded. “Went to the B&B.” I paused. “Met Jerry and Claire.”
Theo was the one who laughed. “I adore them.”
I stared at her. I would have expected that from Wren, but not from Theo.
“Why did you talk to her?” Wren asked, dragging the conversation back to the topic.
“I don't know anything about this town,” I pointed out, rather reasonably if you asked me. “And it's her sister who died. If anybody should be able to tell me if something changed, wouldn't it be her?” I hadn't had a sibling of my own, but I had friends who had. They weren't always perfect, but they were often good friends.
“Not all families get along that well,” Theo said carefully.
There was an undercurrent there I had seen hints of before. “Bad blood?”
“Something like that,” Wren said with some darkness in her eyes. “Their whole family is involved in shady stuff.”
I added that to my list of things to look into later. When I had free time, and I wasn't under investigation for murder.
“Millie mentioned that you worked at the café?” I asked, looking at Wren.
Wren looked caught off guard, but she nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “When Mom and I needed to supplement my income at the store.”
I made a note to ask about the store later. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to the end of my to-do list, the way it kept growing. “Can you tell me more?” I asked.
“About Millie?” Wren looked at me, inquisitive. Then she glanced around; I wasn’t sure why she was so apprehensive. It just added weight to what she was going to say. “This would be better off at home.”
“Upstairs home or your home?” I glanced at the gate.
“The main house.” Theo stepped forward, reaching out and touching Wren’s shoulder. “There’s a family dinner tonight.”
Wren’s face lit up. “That would be perfect.” She looked at me, hopeful. “We'd love to have you for dinner.”
I opened my mouth, trying to find an excuse and not able to come up with one. I could feel Mocha radiating smugness next to me. She did like to torture me, and apparently had figured out that social conventions were one way to do that.
Besides, maybe I would learn something that would help me in my case. “Okay,” I said, since I didn't really have a choice. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Eleven
It had only been a couple days since I had seen the main house and it was as imposing as I remembered. Casual, but there was a weight to it now that I knew what it was. “Lettie lives here?” I asked.
Wren nodded. “Mom and Lizbeth come by every so often.”
“We spent a lot of time there,” Theo added.
“And they’re her adopted daughters?” I asked. I had asked it multiple times, but I still was surprised by it every time I heard the answer.
She nodded. “Sam was their sister.” There were no air quotes around that. She took it deadly seriously.
No matter what, Sam was family.
“Thanks,” I said, my stomach fluttering in a way I couldn’t describe.
She looked confused, but I didn't explain, because I wasn't sure I could. Knowing that my mom had been loved, even before she had me, or met my father – it was reassuring, even though she was gone now.
“Looks like almost everyone’s here,” Wren said thoughtfully, taking a look at the cars parked. I recognized one, even though I wasn't sure who it belonged to.
“Is yours here?” I asked, curious.
Wren smiled faintly. “No,” she said. “Mom and I share a car. She’s going to be late.”
I nodded. “Do they know I'm coming?” I asked.
“No,” Wren said honestly. “But they’ll be happy to see you.”
They had been welcoming, but I was less certain after the whole murder accusation. Maybe she was right, and I was just being paranoid. But then again, I’d come to a new town and almost immediately gotten accused of homicide. I thought I’d earned some paranoia.
Wren grinned at me, as if she could read what I was thinking.
“We’re a good sort,” she said, sounding cheerful.
I glanced at her, and I let myself smile. “I bet you are,” I said, and I meant it, too.
Wren looked strangely pleased at that, like somebody was acknowledging something that everybody else tried to hide.
“Lettie can be a bit grumpy,” Wren said, as if she was sharing a secret.
I glance
d at her, wanting to make a comment about the stereotype of cranky old women, but stopped. I wasn't sure how to take magic into account with all of this. She had been a bit cranky, but overall nice.
From the way she was looking at me, she didn't expect me to understand quite yet.
“Okay,” I said.
“The only one I’m not sure of is Ethan,” she said, not at all sounding surprised.
“I'm guessing he misses these frequently?” Given his job, I wasn’t surprised.
She laughed. “I'm pretty sure the first time he actually showed up on time, Aunt Lizbeth would faint. Come on in,” she said, waving a hand at me.
I followed, listening to her talk about the dinner meal in the background as we officially entered the house. It was full of old-timey decorations, like a large grandfather clock, steadily ticking wall clocks, and antique furniture, but had a cozier feel than I'd expected. Yes, it felt like it was dated, but it also felt comfortable, like a place I could imagine living for a long time.
Lettie appeared, her eyes shrewd. “You.”
I just stared. I wasn’t sure what to say, and then of all things, her hair was bright yellow like a canary. That was the last thing I had expected.
“Hello,” I said. “I like your hair.” It was even true.
Wren looked aghast, and Lettie went from neutral to stone. Immediately I cringed. How had I screwed up?
“Thank you,” Lettie said, her face reverting back to normal. “I’m glad someone appreciates it.” She shot Wren a look before disappearing back into the house. It felt like I had passed some sort of test.
“Right,” Wren said, clapping her hands together. She was obviously distracted, although I wasn't sure by what. “Mom!” She directed her shout upstairs.
“In the lounge,” Ella shouted back. She was close enough that it was quite loud, and I rubbed my ears.
“I’d forgotten how loud humans are.” Mocha sighed. I did jump at that, almost tripping over my feet. It was impressive, how coordinated I was.
“When did you get here?” I asked.
“I’ve been here the entire time.” Mocha gave me a long look. “You just don’t pay attention.”
She was probably right. Then again, I had a valid reason to not always pay attention.
“Let’s go this way.” Wren grabbed my arm and led me down the hallway, which branched into a few rooms. I could see a sliding door that was hiding the kitchen, could smell some of the cooking in there. Wren went through a different door, revealing Theo lounging on the couch and Lizbeth reading a book in an armchair.
“Hello,” I said, feeling out of place.
Theo turned and threw a salute at me, but she looked tired, and was covered in mud from her head to her toe.
I glanced at her, and then at Wren. What did they do for living? Magic was cool and all, but it couldn't have been a very good career field.
“I work with horses,” Theo said, although she had turned away from me.
“Can you read minds?” I asked suspiciously.
Theo rolled her eyes. “Of course not,” she said. “You were staring at my clothes. It was obvious.”
Wren sighed. “Theo, stop harassing her,” she said, although the words were playful.
“It's not my fault she's easy to harass,” Theo said, attempting to sound innocent. She failed. Wren shook her head at her, but there was a smile to her lips. Very much a sisterly vibe. I looked between the two, wistful.
“I didn’t grow up with any siblings,” I said. I caught surprise, mixed with relief. That interested me. Then again, if they hadn’t known about my existence – or if they had – maybe I was confirming for them whether or not I had a sibling.
“Mom,” Wren yelled, sticking her head out of the lounge towards the kitchen.
“You don't have to summon her like that,” I said, not necessarily wanting to be the center of attention.
“Oh, I do,” Wren said regretfully. “Otherwise you wouldn't see her for months. She’s a bit sidetracked.”
“And you wonder where you get it from,” Theo said, her voice teasing.
Wren rolled her eyes at her, deliberately. A tall woman I recognized from the first night as Ella came out of the kitchen, covered head to toe in flour.
That was the last thing I had expected. “She cooks?” I asked.
Ella made a rueful noise. “I attempt to,” she said. “I'm not very good at it.”
I felt stupid for asking, but I was curious. “A witch can be bad at stuff?”
Silence reigned for an uncomfortable moment before Theo broke it with laughter. My ears burned, and I wished I could disappear.
“Just like everyone,” she said. “Some things we can do, some things we can't.”
“I figured,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“We all ask stupid questions,” Wren said, trying to sound comforting.
“She’s right,” Ella said, coming closer.
“So, what do you do?” I asked, shaking Ella's hand when she offered it.
She seemed tired, with purple smudges under her eyes. It spoke of exhaustion, something I'd experienced often during sleepless nights when Mom was in the hospital.
“Wren and I are a jack of all trades store,” Ella said, giving her daughter a warm smile. “It keeps us busy.”
“I'll have to visit sometime,” I said. I couldn't craft my way out of a paper bag, but if I was going to live here, and this was going to become my new family, I wanted to know more about them. It felt so strange to think about it that way, to think about the fact that my mother wasn't coming back.
The hit of emotion caught me off guard, and I kicked it savagely back. I didn't have time to be sad, not right now.
“So he really questioned you?” This was Lettie, coming back into the room holding up one of those tins that you never knew exactly what was in it. Cookies or sewing materials? One or the other?
“Yeah,” I said, glancing at her. “Is that really surprising?” I asked uncertainly.
“Ethan mentioned –”
“That Kerrity doesn’t really like your family?” I asked.
Lettie nodded. There was something in her eyes, but I couldn't read it. It could’ve been anger, it could've been sadness. “This is your family, too,” she said, her voice firm but without pity.
I didn't know how to take that, either. Instead I just nodded. I wasn't ready to give that much, not out loud.
“She's going to try and pin this on you,” Ella said, sighing.
“Typical her.” Lizbeth put her book aside, drawing attention.
“Yeah.” I didn't know what else to say.
Lizbeth lifted her head, sniffing the air. “Is that dinner I smell?” she asked wistfully.
“If you want it done faster, go make it,” Ella said tartly. They were very much like sisters in the same way Wren and Theo were.
I glanced at Lizbeth out of the corner of my eye, curiosity distracting me. So if Ethan was a cop, and Theo worked with horses – what did Lizbeth do?
“I'm a therapist,” Lizbeth said, the revelation rather blasé. Sitting there on the couch, dressed in jeans and a ratty t-shirt, therapist wasn’t exactly the career I had expected.
“Oh,” I said helpfully.
“I'm going to check on the food,” Theo said, since nobody else seemed interested in it.
I stood up to follow, making it to the door before Lizbeth cleared her throat behind me. I stopped, hesitating. Was she actually cooking? Could they cook? Or was this the case where they just hadn't got around to magically summoning dinner yet? There was so much I didn't know about magic, and even with having Mocha around I didn't feel like I was anywhere qualified to know anything about what I was doing.
“She's just heating it up,” Lizbeth said. “Not very interesting, I’m afraid.”
I turned back around, looking at Wren for confirmation. Wren just smiled.
“So how are you enjoying Elder so far?” Ella asked, sitting and crossing one leg over the o
ther.
“Beyond being a murder suspect, it’s been good.” My smile was crooked.
“Yes,” Lizbeth said, laughing. Her laughter was like bells. “I can't imagine it's been very relaxing. Do you need a place to stay?”
I shook my head. “I have the apartment.”
Lizbeth looked thoughtful, and then nodded. “Of course,” she said, as if she'd forgotten. “How silly of me.”
From the way Wren looked at her, I had a feeling I'd missed something, even if I didn't know what it was. Lizbeth smiled, and then nodded towards the kitchen. “Would you like to look?” she asked. “It seems to be taking her a while.”
Curiosity getting the better of me—it had to, at some point—I nodded and followed Lizbeth once she headed out of the door. I heard Wren arguing with somebody behind me, somebody who sounded suspiciously like Lettie.
When I entered the kitchen, I was surprised. It seemed about twice as big on the inside as it was on the outside. It was like the TARDIS, or magic tent.
“Is it enchanted?” I asked, glancing around the door frame.
“Sort of,” Theo said from where she was kneading some dough. “It's not technically an enchantment, but it's close.”
“I thought you were just heating stuff up,” I said, a bit baffled.
“I wanted biscuits.” Theo rolled the dough, testing its elasticity and seemingly satisfied. “Which means making buns for Lettie.”
Curiosity perked its head again. “So how does magic help with this?”
Theo paused, then put the dough in an oiled bowl, then checked the oven. The question seemed to have caught her off guard. “Sometimes we don’t use it,” Theo said.
I was kind of skeptical about that. It seemed so helpful, so useful, why would they not use it?
“If you use it all the time, it's not nearly as entertaining.” That was Lettie's voice, and she caught me off guard. All of a sudden, everybody was in the kitchen except for Ethan.
“Oh,” I said, almost feeling like a kid who’d got stuck with her hand in the cookie jar.
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