I suppressed a smile at the term cad and leaned forward. “What does he do for a living?”
Mimsey looked surprised. “You know, I’m not really sure.”
“He manages things,” Iris said.
“What kind of things?” Jaida asked.
Iris shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just something Zoe said once. Her mom was involved in all sorts of stuff, but her dad just seemed to be, you know, around.” She sighed. “I guess she’ll be coming back from college for a while. I’m going to text her. I’d like to see her, tell her I’m sorry about her mom.”
Suddenly I realized the connection: Iris had lost her mother when she was quite young. She lived with her stepmom, whom she adored, in the small basement apartment of her stepmom’s house.
Lucy nodded. “I think it would be nice for you to connect with her.”
Iris reached for the curtain, then paused. “Katie? Ben said Zoe’s mom didn’t die accidentally. That she was killed. Are you going to find out who did it?”
I met her eyes. She’d worked for us long enough that she knew I sometimes got involved with police cases.
“If I can help, I’ll do what I can,” I said.
“We all will,” Jaida said.
A smile fluttered at the corners of Iris’ lips. Her voice was strong. “Good.” She turned and slipped back out.
“Oh, poor Zoe,” Cookie said. “Do you think she might accept an amulet of comfort? I could make it and give it to Iris to give to her.”
“That would be a kindness,” Bianca said. “But do you have time?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make time,” Cookie said, gazing down at the tiny person resting in her arms.
Mimsey shook her head ruefully. “Death is so hard on the young ones.” When she looked around at all of us, her eyes were bright with determination. “Now, what’s the plan?”
I took a deep breath, thinking. “We need more information. I could ask Steve Dawes if he knows anything about Leigh, the gallery, any possible enemies. He’s reporting on crime now, but he had the downtown arts and business beat for a long time.”
Silence fell over the group. Steve and I had almost been a thing, about the same time Declan and I were becoming a thing, and there had been a history of bad blood between them even before I’d stepped into the picture. Plus, Steve was a member of the local druid clan, who were not exactly rivals of the spellbook club, but not exactly friends, either.
“Do you have a better suggestion?” I asked.
“No, it’s a good idea,” Lucy said in a brisk tone.
“Okay,” I said. “I’d like to talk with Leigh’s ex-husband. Detective Quinn has likely already spoken with him, since in murder cases it makes sense to look at the spouse, or in this case, ex-spouse, first. Maybe I could ask Quinn—” I stopped myself and shook my head. “No, he won’t tell me anything without good reason. And to him, there isn’t a good reason.”
“Yet.” Mimsey quirked an eyebrow.
I looked at Bianca. “Do you think Leigh’s assistant would be at the gallery? Or do you think it’s closed?”
She gave a kind of facial shrug. “Easy enough to call and find out.”
“Right. If it’s open, you and I can stop by and chat with her. Wait—her?”
“Yes, her. Paisley Long,” Bianca said.
“I can do a little digging through public records on Walker Stokes,” Jaida offered. “Gregory offered to take over whatever I might need him to at our practice so I can help out his goshdaughter.” She made a face. “I know this is about Leigh, but it’s about Teddy, too.”
We all murmured agreement.
“Katie, what about Leigh’s friends?” Lucy asked. “The others in their book club?”
“There was Leigh’s sister, Calista.” I thought back. “But I don’t know the names of the others. I think two of them were mother and daughter. Oh, wait. I heard them call the tall one Jo. No idea about last name, though.”
“Could the bookmark Mungo found belong to Calista?” my aunt asked.
I felt my lips twitch. “Indeed, it could. Maybe I’ll track down her number and give her a call.”
“Would her last name be Markes?” Cookie asked from the computer screen.
I looked over and saw Isabella now slumbering in a bassinet while Cookie typed furiously.
“Yes, it’s Markes.” She answered her own question. “I’m sending you her address.” She made a noise of speculation. “Nice digs. In the Victorian district.”
Mimsey said, “That’s the home that’s been in the family for generations. She must be living there.”
“I wonder if Leigh was as well,” I said.
Cookie typed some more. “No, she has a house in Midtown.”
We heard a flurry of voices out in the Honeybee proper. Apparently, the spell Mimsey and Bianca had placed on the barrier worked both ways, because we couldn’t make out a single word being said. Lucy jumped up and looked around the edge of the curtain.
“Tour group,” she exclaimed, and that was all it took.
The curtain slid back and was pinned to the wall, and Lucy and I hurried out to help Ben and Iris with the rush. The other members of the spellbook club said goodbye to Cookie and Isabella, brought our dishes back to the kitchen, and removed the reserved sign. Soon customers drifted in to peruse books and lounge on the comfy furniture.
The members of the spellbook club left, beginning with Mimsey. Jaida was next, and I waved to her as I saw her moving toward the door. She started to wave goodbye but then realized I wanted to talk to her. I held up two fingers, and she gave a nod and gestured toward the street. I also nodded, and two minutes later had left my coworkers to deal with the last of the customers while I slipped out to the sidewalk.
Jaida was next door, looking at the offerings in the window of the Fox and Hound Bookshop. When she saw me, she sauntered back, and we met halfway.
“I was just going to get back to the office to do an online check on Walker Stokes,” she said.
“Thanks for doing that. I didn’t like the way Iris described him.”
“I didn’t either, but that doesn’t make him a murderer.”
“True.” I fell quiet.
“Katie?” She waited.
I took a deep breath and plunged in. “So, you know about how Connell is, well, missing.”
“Yeah.”
“And we all talked about how Nonna told me we needed help to get him back, right? But then there was the wedding, and Declan’s sister was a suspect in killing her ex, and finding Connell kind of fell by the wayside.”
Her gaze softened. “It did. I’m sorry. We didn’t forget. We just don’t know what to do next.”
“Oh, I know. It’s not anyone’s fault.” I licked my lips. “Jaida, Declan needs Connell. I need him to have Connell. He serves as Declan’s intuition, the red flag when there’s danger. After my dear husband is finished with his paramedic training, can you imagine the situations he’s going to find himself in?”
Slowly, she nodded. I could tell she was thinking. I barreled on.
“The help we need is a tether. It has to be someone who can straddle both sides of the veil, who has access to both worlds.”
I watched the realization dawn on her face.
“Do you think Teddy could serve as that tether?” I asked. “I mean, she’s kind of the perfect person to do it. She regularly sees spirits on the other side, and if we perform the ritual at midnight on Halloween, it should be extra easy for her to help us find Connell and bring him . . .” My growing hope died as I saw the look on Jaida’s face.
“I don’t know, Katie. Teddy’s special, as you well know. But she’s fragile. Skittish. I don’t know all the details, but I don’t think it’s been easy growing up with her ability, and I don’t think it’s easy to walk around with it day in and day out, either.”
I bit my lip. “She does make a living from it, though.”
Jaida didn’t say anything.
“Do I have your permission to ask her?”
My friend stepped in and wrapped me in a hug. “You don’t need my permission. She’s a grown woman and so are you. I’d be glad if she can help bring Connell back to Declan. I just don’t want you to count on it.”
I gave her a squeeze and stepped back. “Right. I won’t put all my eggs in that basket. But Connell wouldn’t be gone if he hadn’t stepped in to save my magic for me. I’m going to try anything I can to fix this for Declan—and Connell. He can’t be happy stuck in whatever between-world he’s in.”
“I’m behind you all the way, honey.” She smiled. “Let me know what Teddy says.”
Her words were encouraging, but as she turned to leave, I saw the worry pinching the skin around her eyes. I tried to remain hopeful as I went back inside the Honeybee.
Half an hour later, the traffic had dwindled to normal. Bianca had stuck around, helping out as she could. Lucy was in the kitchen, and Ben moved among the tables, tidying and pushing in the chairs. I had begun to restock the pastry case in preparation for the lunch crowd starting to trickle in when I heard Bianca on the phone.
“Hello, Paisley? Bianca Devereaux here.” I noticed her Southern accent was strong. Paisley was in for the gentlest hard sell around. “I was wondering what time the gallery will open today. I have a friend in town who might be interested in that Hanta sculpture. It’s such a lovely piece, and I was telling her all about it. The lines! Tell me you still have it.” There was a pause as she listened. “Oh, dear. That’s terrible. Just awful. This morning, you say? No, I haven’t seen the paper yet. Yes, I understand, of course . . . Oh? . . . Well, that’s very kind of you . . . Two o’clock should be fine.” She looked over at me, and I nodded. “I’m so sorry to hear about Leigh. A tragedy indeed.”
She ended the call and came over to where I stood waiting behind fresh rows of assorted muffins. “It was in the Savannah Morning News.”
Juggling two plates and a half-empty mug of coffee, Ben walked by. “I looked. Nothing in there about a murder.”
“It wouldn’t have made the presses for the print paper,” I said over my shoulder as I returned the tray to the kitchen. “It must be online.”
Bianca was already tapping on her phone. By the time I returned she was scanning the screen. “Not much info here. They found her body in her car in the parking garage behind the Marshall House. Nothing about how she died, only that it’s being investigated as a homicide. Reference to her family roots here in Savannah and the gallery, but not much else.” She looked up. “Pretty spare reporting, really. For Steve Dawes.”
I sighed. “Quinn must have put a damper on the story. Usually, Steve is quite thorough.”
“Maybe they just don’t know much yet.”
“At least not that they’re telling anyone at this point.”
“I’ll be back to pick you up at one forty-five. I can drive us to the gallery.” She grinned.
I grinned back. I’d never refused a ride in Bianca’s car yet. “See you then.”