When Mason had calmed, I walked back out to the table where Trinity and Natalie were still talking. Natalie raised her eyebrow slightly in question as I got to the table. I paused to give myself time to adjust from the soft soothing tans and greens of the cat area to the darker, more dramatic look of the main café. The soft music that played in the background throughout the building brought the two sections together.
I noted a couple of locals had come in. Brian Welks worked at the bank next door. He walked over every day at this time and got a plain black coffee. I think he just wanted to get out of the bank. Sarah Meyerson was getting a fancy coffee of some sort. She’s definitely not a creature of habit.
Sarah ran the bookstore up the road. Naturally, she specialized in magical tomes and half the store had difficult to find books about familiars. I’d found books on familiar cat care that taught me some things I hadn’t learned in class. She also had books on the advantages of various familiars.
Naturally, she carried the usual items like choosing a familiar by your astrological sign, but those were usually purchased by people from out of town. No one living here would buy into that sort of nonsense. Sarah had spells in place to keep non-magical folks from noticing the store so they didn’t just wander in. Even then, she had a small selection of ordinary magic books in the front to keep them occupied, so that give she or her worker had time to do a “go away” spell on them.
I liked the way her shop smelled of old books and dust, though it made me sneeze. I sometimes went in to look through the short books she had on famous familiars. Of course, Sarah kept her familiar, Bongo, in the shop. Bongo was a five-year-old Boxer. He wasn’t a typical familiar and his magic tended to have a martial edge. He probably helped with the magic to keep ordinary folks outside
Sarah had no doubt been drawn to him, not only because she needed a familiar to help at the store, but because she tended to be confrontational. The two fit together well. Although Sarah is pretty no-nonsense and doesn’t back down from a fight, she’s quite friendly once you get to know her. I tend to think of boxers like that as well.
In addition to Bongo, Shayla, a Himalayan, lived in the store. Shayla had lost her witch a few years back. She’d been young enough to get adopted again but hadn’t matched with anyone except Sarah. Instead, she’d become a store cat, greeting everyone who came in and guarding the place when Sarah and Bongo went home.
Brian nodded at me and smiled. Sarah waved, and I waved back.
“So what was going on with Mason?” Natalie asked when I got to the table. Her mug held on the dregs of her tea.
Trinity had started picking at her scone. It was nearly gone so at least she’d started eating. Perhaps Mason’s yowl had distracted her from her work problems.
“Mason felt someone’s spirit. Not a happy spirit, either.” I kept my voice down. We might not have many people in the café, but I didn’t want to spread the news around too far.
“Like someone was killed?” Natalie said, her voice hushed. She might talk to everyone, frequently at a volume louder than she should, but she also knew the value of keeping her voice low in certain situations.
I nodded.
“Who?” Trinity asked, also whispering now. The way we were huddling, we were probably more suspicious than if we’d just talked normally. I noticed Brian glance our way more than once as I hurried to my place on the bench.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Mason thought he recognized the energy but didn’t know who it was.”
“So at least it’s not your family.” Natalie had clearly ascertained that would be my biggest fear and worry. All three of us were close to our families, though we might complain about them regularly.
Natalie’s family was out of town, as was typical, so it’s unlikely that they were in trouble, not given that a local police officer had gone off without getting his coffee moments before Mason saw the spirit. It takes a bit of time for spirits to orient themselves to wander and perhaps give warning to anyone with a sensitivity towards their death.
It wasn’t normal for Mason to see spirits. Someone had clearly just died. They’d probably spent a few minutes hovering over their body, trying to make sense of what had happened. Upon realizing they were dead, the spirits can sometimes go fleeing around, attempting to contact someone they know. Disoriented as they are, they frequently get turned around and bump into any magical creature they happen to notice. In this case, it was Mason. Officer Alsez’s call had to be about the same death. Waverton is neither that large nor that dangerous.
Trinity frowned. Her family lived in town, just around the corner, not far from the cat café. The house Trinity had grown up in was just two blocks over, a big old two-story house built around the turn of the last century. It was brick with a narrow front stoop rather than a porch and a big old screen porch to the side where we’d spent a lot of time playing in the early summer and fall.
Her parents still lived there though Trinity and both her brothers had moved out. Trinity lived on the other side of town, about two miles from me, in a nice townhome apartment. Both of her brothers were attorneys and had their own homes in one of the older neighborhoods in town.
“I know Mason said he sort of knew them, but I didn’t get the impression that he was aware of who exactly it was. He knows you far too well not to get a sense of your family,” I told Trinity. She still looked worried. Her phone was out and her fingers flew over the keyboard as she texted her brothers and her parents.
There’s this idea that magic and electronics don’t mix. Waverton proves that untrue every single day. We use cell phones. I have a computerized cash register. My car runs just fine. People watch television through thunderstorms all the time and it’s not a problem unless their house gets hit with a lightning bolt. Magic is the same way. Generally speaking, so long as I wasn’t trying to put a spell on my computer I didn’t have to worry about frying it. Except, you know, the same way anyone else would.
“Everyone has checked in,” Trinity said. “My brother Tyson says that he’s been seeing police activity around the library. He and Tim were worried about me.”
Trinity had her eyebrows raised and she looked from me to Natalie.
“We need to check this out,” Natalie said. She was already standing up.
Trinity looked back at her half-filled mug of chai.
“It’s probably cold,” Natalie said.
“It was supposed to be cold,” I said. Only Natalie had chosen a hot drink on such a hot day. “I’ll grab a paper cup and you can take it with you.”
“We can’t take the time...” Natalie started to say.
“I’ll grab a cup,” I said, already hurrying over to the coffee bar.
I’d had a carpenter rework the old dark wood bar so that there was a low area where the cash register sat and I’d pulled off the far end and put in a section with a glass front to show off the pastries. My espresso machine takes up a good portion of the employee side of the bar, the dark black of it rising up above the wood like a skyscraper. I love that thing.
I hurried behind the counter and grabbed a paper cup. No line of customers waited so I didn’t feel guilty.
“What’s going on?” Greg asked. He might have been young but he was reliable and available and willing to work pretty much full-time while he figured out what he wanted to do with his life. He wasn’t the fastest worker but he was thorough
“I don’t know,” I said. “Trinity’s brother said something is going on at the library.” When people talked about the library in Waverton they meant the specialty library. When they meant the public library with ordinary books, they specified the word public.
“Wow. I wonder if that’s why Officer Alsez left so quickly. He didn’t even wait for his coffee,” Greg said. No doubt to him this was a really big deal. I wasn’t about to be the one to tell him about Mason’s visitation. Even witches can get a little freaky about spirits.
“Hope you’ll be okay for a few,” I said.
Greg shrugged glancing over at Cade.
The café was uncommonly quiet. For the moment, the only people in the café besides me and my friends were the people in the familiar room. I had another group scheduled to come in shortly. According to Natalie, the group was staying for a few days at the hotel and were looking at all sorts of familiars. I always hoped that one of my cats would make a connection and find the perfect home, but it’s not always meant to be.
I quickly poured the rest of Trinity’s chai into the paper cup and hurried to catch up with her and Natalie. Natalie was already out the door. Trinity was looking back giving me a hurry-up wave.
Like it had taken me any time at all. I handed her her drink. It wasn’t even noon, but the heat hit me hard enough that I longed to head back inside to the air-conditioned space. I was thankful for my short sleeves, though they weren’t much help with the humidity that seemed to press against my chest making breathing an Olympic sport.
Natalie marched along ahead of us. Several police cars were parked just off the street with their trunks hanging out into traffic. An officer directed drivers around. Another was on the far side of the library, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing. No doubt they’d close the whole main street, which wasn’t good for the café. I hoped my out-of-town witches could find the place.
Other people had come out of the buildings across from the library. I saw one of Tyson’s paralegals on the sidewalk. Tyson wasn’t there, but I had no doubt he’d hear everything he needed to when she went back in. He was probably busy enough that he couldn’t stand outside watching. His paralegal probably didn’t have the time, either, but if there was a crime in Waverton, Tyson and Tim might be pressed into service as attorneys and it made sense to have someone taking notes on what was going on in real-time.
The library itself was a large, eye-catching building with three low concrete steps that ran the length of it, inviting people to run up them and go inside. The building had an unusual cream-colored façade that I don’t know the name of, and between the windowed front and the concrete steps was a broad covered porch held up by off-white columns. Two sets of double doors led inside, the slight hair-tingling feeling of magic present when you reached them. The specialty library was another place that didn’t attract the attention of non-magical folks.
It took a bit of magic to hide the five-story tall building. A basement hid below ground, though no one ever noticed that. Inside, the archives were on the top two floors and access was restricted. Not only were the archives locked behind doors, but more spells had been placed on those doors to keep anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there out. Trinity was one of the few people, along with Eric, who had a key and had permission to be inside the archives. It was probably why Eric was so certain she’d stolen the book.
Of course, he could have taken it and was trying to frame Trinity. A really determined thief could have gotten past the security, too. Nothing is perfect, not even magical security.
A reed-thin, red-haired woman sat crying on the steps. Oddly, I didn’t recognize her. A gray-haired, older woman was sitting with her, rubbing her hand against her back, slowly. Tom Alsez was with them.
An ambulance pulled up, sirens wailing. I had a very bad feeling.