“Wait, what?” Ande interrupted. “Becca, I never said—”
“Look, I’ve got to go—and I’m sorry.” Becca dropped her voice, cupping her phone in her hand as the couple’s laughter got closer. “Just—you should know—I’ve also been hearing things. Like, that you were maybe trying to frame Trent.”
“Me? Trent?” Ande’s voice squeaked as Becca looked up in time to see the bearded warlock himself, showered and dressed once more in his usual open-necked shirt, escorting a laughing Larissa down the walk.
Chapter 38
“Maddy, there’s something going on here.” Becca made her next call to her friend, hitting the number even as she emerged from her hiding place behind a hedge. “Ande says she hasn’t talked to the police yet. And Trent and Larissa are definitely a couple.”
“Becca, do you hear yourself?” Her friend was leaving work. Becca could hear the traffic noise as she neared the T. “A woman was murdered, and you’re playing detective?”
“I’m not playing.” Becca stopped herself and pulled a bit of boxwood from her hair. “Maddy, the police want to talk to me again. They’ve been calling, and everybody knows I’m out of work and I need money—and that Jeff dumped me for Suzanne.” Before her friend could interject, she rushed on. “Someone’s been talking to the police, and I’m worried that they’re not getting the full story. I’ll go in and talk to them, I promise. But I want to figure out what’s going on first. I only came over here to talk to Larissa, and now…seeing her with Trent…”
Maddy snorted. “Well, at least I know why Reynolds is always in such a mood. I can’t imagine he’s thrilled with how his ex is spending his money.”
“Maddy, that’s not fair.” Becca felt a little bad that she’d texted Nathan’s revelation to her friend the night before. She’d been so overjoyed to find out that the handsome painter was neither job competition nor Larissa’s love interest that she’d probably revealed more than she meant to. Now Ande’s words came back to her. “You never know what’s going on in someone else’s relationship.”
Another snort. “Maybe not in theirs—but that Trent? Oh, come on.”
Becca bit her lip. Maddy was touching on the conclusion that she herself had reached. “There’s also—Maddy, I don’t think I told you, but I spoke with Jeff—”
“Oh, Becca!”
“No, we’re not getting back together—don’t worry about that. Only he brought up that Suzanne had thought someone was stalking her again. He thought it was me, but she’d also gone out with Trent and she had a necklace that she loved but that she never wanted to wear when she came to the group.”
“That coven of yours…” Her friend’s censure chilled the phone line. “And this is the guy you went out with too?”
“I didn’t really.” Becca caught herself. “Okay, maybe I did, but he’s been out with everyone. Ande as well as Suzanne, and I think Kathy has a crush on him too. Only seeing him with Larissa makes me wonder.”
“Becca, you’re not making sense.”
“I am!” Becca insisted. “She had this necklace—a crystal teardrop. I think Trent gave it to her, and that Larissa knew.” The image of her colleague, lying lifeless on the floor, came back—the horror of it. The streak of blood already growing dark. The knife protruding from Suzanne’s bare throat. “Maddy, I think the killer took the necklace.”
“Please, Becca,” her friend entreated. “This is a job for the police. You need to stop this—you need to tell them everything that’s going on.”
“I can’t, Maddy—not just yet. They must already think I’m involved, or else why would they be asking me to come in again? And, well, I don’t know, do I? Maybe she’d just taken it off. And the whole thing could be totally innocent.”
“Yeah? Well, who killed her, then?”
Becca didn’t have an answer for that one, and her friend knew it.
“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Maddy was fading as she descended into the subway. “Look, I’ll go with you tomorrow, first thing before work, okay? And tonight—do you want to come over? We can watch a movie or something.”
“I’d love to.” Relief suffused Becca’s voice, and for the first time since she’d left the house, Clara relaxed. “Oh, but, no, I can’t.”
Clara’s ears pricked up. As, it seemed, did Maddy’s. “No? Not another date?”
“Oh, I wish.” Exhaustion—or exasperation—drained the life out of Becca’s voice. “I can’t believe I forgot, Maddy. And now it’s too late to cancel.”
Silence on the line. Then, “Becca?”
“The coven is meeting tonight, Maddy! That must be where Larissa and Trent were heading, and I’ve got to rush home and clean up.”
***
In truth, Becca had over an hour before the group was scheduled to convene. That left her plenty of time to get home and pick up what was generally a fairly neat apartment. True, Laurel and Harriet had been bored in her absence, and had made their point by knocking several small objects off the bookshelf. The point, Laurel said, was to keep Becca busy while they debriefed Clara, a task for which the seal-point feline seemed to have more enthusiasm than their oldest sister, who had made herself scarce.
“Can’t this wait?” Clara looked on in sympathy as Becca frantically rushed around, picking up pens and paperweights. “Becca is in a tizzy.”
“How do you think we felt?” Laurel’s ears flicked backward, revealing a bit of temper. “You run out to talk to the police, and we don’t hear from you for hours.”
“I know, but we never got there.”
Becca was on her hands and knees, looking under the sofa. Searching once more, Clara realized, for the amulet.
“She ran into that Trent, and he showed her that he still has his pendant,” she explained.
“Good.” Harriet had ambled in from her nap. “Then I can make another. So you owe me a treat!”
It was useless. Clara’s spirits sunk, as did her tail, and she turned from her sisters to watch her person’s frenzied quest.
“Listen up!” A sharp slap to the side of her head brought her back. Laurel, her blue eyes blazing. “You act like you’re the only one who cares, but we want to do what’s best for her too. But you’ve got to tell us what you know—and quickly too! Those cookie eaters are on their way.”
“Cookie eaters?” Harriet looked toward the door.
“Harriet, focus!” Clara looked from one sister to another. She’d never heard Laurel speak this way, not to Harriet. Even the big marmalade seemed somewhat taken aback and sat blinking under that blue glare.
“I know I’ve been a bit lax.” Laurel had the grace to dip her head. Cats see a direct stare as an offensive move, and once she had their attention, the middle sister seemed ready to shift into a conciliatory fashion. “This has been a comfortable perch. But you do know our family history, don’t you?”
Harriet blinked and turned to Clara, who tilted her head inquisitively. “I know we have a duty to our people and that we come from a long line of witch cats.”
“And what happens when we don’t pay attention?” Laurel’s tone had become a bit schoolmarmish—only with an edge that worried Clara and set her spine tingling. “What happens when we aren’t careful?”
“We don’t get treats?” Harriet offered the most serious punishment she could imagine.
“Our people—the women we are bound to serve—are taken as witches in our place.” Laurel was practically hissing. “They’re taken away away and burned.”