“Larissa,” he responded, spitting the name out as if it tasted bad. “I mean, she’d already given me your number.”
“And about the coven?” She was relaxing—Clara could hear it—but she waited while he nodded.
“Larissa again.” He gave up the name with a sigh. “And I’m sorry, I should’ve told you—I’m sorry I scared you. For what it’s worth, I’ve had enough. I’m not going to cover for her anymore.”
“Cover?” Becca, intrigued, didn’t shut the door. She didn’t move to open it up any further either. Instead, she stood, one arm on the frame.
He nodded. “She thinks she can control everything. But I’m through with that.”
Becca waited, but it didn’t take any particular skill to see that she was factoring in what she’d heard about the older woman—and about younger men. Her “pets.”
“The job.” Her voice was flat. “My friend Maddy saw you today. I know Larissa is setting you up. Getting you that job.”
“What? No, I have a job. I paint houses.”
“Right.” Clara had never heard Becca sound so angry. She glanced over at her sister. Laurel’s eyes were wide. “Look, I get it. This is an expensive city, and Larissa is generous. Larissa likes to help people. Larissa likes her ‘pets,’ especially young, good-looking men.”
“Larissa,” Nathan cut her off before she could go any further, “is my mother.”
***
Ten minutes later, the two were sitting on the sofa, Laurel curled and purring between them. Clara, for her part, was trying to make sense of all she’d heard. So, for that matter, was Becca.
“I’m sorry I let it go on so long,” the handsome painter was saying. “She gave me your number and then she told me where you live. She seemed to really like the idea of us getting to know each other, and, no, she didn’t tell me you were in the coven together. She didn’t have to—as soon as I heard you say ‘Larissa,’ I knew. She only uses that name for her so-called ‘mystical’ endeavors. To everyone else, she’s plain old Risa.”
“Risa?” Becca tried to reconcile the old-fashioned name with the woman she knew. The jet-black hair. The scarves and the perfume. “Larissa is Risa. Your mother. That’s why you were bringing flowers over. But why Fox?”
“Just a translation.” He smiled, as if at a private joke. “Raposa means fox in Portuguese. So, yeah, Risa Raposa. I guess it’s better than what my father did.”
Becca’s confusion showed in her face.
“He anglicized it. Well, sort of. Reynolds was his version. I think someone told him that fox in French was renard, and he either misheard or thought that still sounded too foreign.”
“Reynolds—like Reynolds and Associates?”
“Yeah, you know them?”
“That’s the job—the one I thought Larissa—your mother—was setting you up for.” She couldn’t hide the humor in her voice. “Suzanne worked there, and my friend Maddy does too. She saw you at the office and thought you were there for an interview.”
“No.” He dismissed the idea, shaking his head. “I pity anybody who has to work for my father. I mean, no—you can’t think…”
“I don’t.” Becca finished his thought. “In fact, I’m trying to leave all that to the police, but I haven’t heard anything that would imply he’s involved.”
“Good.” A sigh of relief. “He’s not a bad guy, but, wait, you want to work for him?”
“Yeah.” Becca nodded. “Well, I’ve applied for a position there. Thought I had it too. Reynolds—your father—seemed to like me. But then Maddy heard that someone else was being interviewed—one of Larissa—Risa’s—pets. So…”
Before she could spell it out, Nathan interrupted with a laugh. A nice laugh, thought Clara. Not too loud, but it came from his belly like a purr. “No wonder you thought I was her boy toy!”
Becca didn’t comment. She didn’t have to.
“Believe me, I know about my mother. So does my father. It’s part of her whole thing—wanting to be young forever. It’s probably why she got into the whole magic thing.”
“Huh.” Becca fell silent, lost in thought.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to downplay your group, if it works for you.” Nathan leaned back, unburdened. “I mean, I understand about Wicca having spiritual aspects and everything…”
Becca wasn’t listening. “Maybe that’s why Trent didn’t look harder,” she said to herself. Nathan looked at her inquisitively, but she shook him off. “It’s nothing. A small thing that was puzzling me. That’s all. So, if it wasn’t about the job, why were you at the office today, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Hey, I feel like you have the right to ask anything.” He grinned a bit sheepishly. “He wanted me to drop by. I thought it was about finishing up that triple-decker. Yeah, he’s a landlord—and the source of most of my referrals, I’ve got to admit. Turns out, he wanted to talk to me about doing an intervention. They fight like cats and dogs, but at some level he still loves my mom. She probably still loves him too, but he’s worried. She’s spending way too much money, and he thinks she’s being ripped off.”
“That fits with something Ande—another member of our group—said.” Becca was thinking out loud. “Only, I had the impression that it was our group finances that were going missing.”
Nathan’s face said it all.
“The group finances are really Larissa’s—Risa’s.” The reality kicked in as Becca pieced together everything she’d heard. “Despite what we chip in, we’re just a pet project for her, aren’t we?”
“Hey, she can afford it.” Nathan was making nice. “I mean, Dad’s done well and she has a good income. Only, it’s not unlimited, and he’s getting sick of bailing her out.”
“Did you tell the cops all this?” Another, darker thought was clouding Becca’s brow. “I mean, about your mother and the money and all?”
“Of course.” He sounded concerned. “But she’s not—I mean, she can be pretty nutty and everything but she’s not a killer.”
Becca held back from saying the obvious—that somebody was. Nathan must have missed the look on her face, because he kept talking.
“Which, all things considered, is a good thing,” he was saying. “Because I know she had a real grudge against that girl, though I guess that’s over now.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he stopped. “You can’t think—” He gasped. “She’s—no, Becca, we’re talking about my mother.”
“I’m sure the police will get to the bottom of it,” said Becca, doing her best to sound encouraging. But Clara knew what was going through her mind—that the police had already suspected someone in their coven, and that her person believed herself to be a prime suspect because of her connection with Jeff. “They have to. I wonder if they know…”
“No.” Nathan sounded horrified. “Becca…”
“Suzanne was seeing my ex, Jeff. But before then, she’d gone out with Trent, at least a few times.” Becca laid out the points, as if talking to herself. “At least, I think so. I don’t know if Larissa—Risa—your mom knew, but I think maybe she and Trent might have something going. And I think Suzanne found out that Jeff cheated on her, so I’m wondering if she might have run back to Trent. Or maybe she had been stepping out on Jeff. Or even—”
“Becca, please.” The man beside her was pleading. “This is all crazy.”
“You’re right. I should leave it all to the police.” Becca stopped and managed a smile. “This is all…this is a lot to think about.” She rose and walked back to the door, turning to Nathan as he followed. “I believe you about what happened with us, and I’m sorry for running out on you,” she said.
“Of course.” He made his own brave attempt at a smile. “And I’m sorry I scared you, coming over like this and everything. Only, you wouldn’t take my calls.”
“No, it’s okay.” Becca took his hand, and for a moment it seemed like he would say something more. But then he turned and left