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Eden pulled into a parking spot on Jackson Street and dropped some change into the meter. The antique shop was a large, red-brick building with “Antiques” painted in multi-color block lettering. Inside, it didn’t look like any of the musty antique shops she’d been to before. It had a playful feel to it, with checkerboard tile floors, vintage posters on the ceiling, and even a soda fountain.
“This doesn’t look like the kind of place an old, plant-loving recluse would frequent.”
“Yelp has a picture of thick-cut, chocolate-covered bacon,” Gabi said. “I wish I had taste buds.”
“And a digestive system?”
“Rub it in.”
A hipster picking through vintage records gave Eden a strange look.
“Gabi, you’re going to have to act like a normal phone for a few minutes,” Eden whispered.
“Okay. I’ll just butt-dial your ex and then afterwards, I can pretend to lose service. Sound good?”
“Please don’t,” Eden whispered. “Just give me a few minutes. How far back does this place go?”
“A normal phone wouldn’t answer that.”
Eden walked past a case of antique brooches and an enormous collection of salt and pepper shakers. It was entirely possible that Martha Thorne had simply gone antique shopping, and that it had nothing to do with her death. Plenty of older people loved antiques.
Eden frowned. “I really don’t know what we expected to find here, but if someone remembers Martha, maybe they can tell us what she bought. I’ll check at the front register before we go.” She glanced at the time on her phone screen. “I promised my boss I’d stop by while I was in town, and he’s expecting me in half an hour.”
Eden was just about to turn around when a heavy wooden door at the back of the store caught her eye. There was a sign over it that read “Hoodoos.”
“What’s this? It looks like a separate shop,” Eden said.
“Hold me up so I can get a better view.”
Eden held the phone up. “Who’s whose personal assistant?”
“Hoodoo is a word associated with voodoo or witchcraft. Looks like we’ve come to the right place.”
A chill went through Eden. “You think this is where old Martha Thorne did her weekend shopping? Maybe Clixie was right. There’s more to people than you know.”
Eden stepped towards the door, her stomach fluttering with excitement as she tried to imagine what was inside. “I wonder if it smells like chicken livers and incense and a hundred ancient, leather-bound books. And hopefully there’s a strange old man at the counter who knows exactly what we’re looking for.”
“Ooh, and his eyes will turn white when he talks to you,” Gabi said.
Eden turned the handle and pushed open the door. She stepped into a tidy room lit with rows of trendy, industrial-style light fixtures. The wood floors looked original, but everything else had been updated. There were several bins labeled with mini chalkboard signs, and glass shelves filled with a variety of products lined the walls. Eden half-expected to see large, over-priced bath bombs loaded with glitter and tubs of luxury body butter.
“This isn’t what we were expecting at all, is it?” Gabi said.
“How do you know? My hand’s covering your lens.”
“The security system in here is different. It has remote internet access. I hacked into it.”
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“I’m a computer who can think for myself. I can do a lot.”
Eden stuffed the phone back in her pocket. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Did you say something?”
Eden turned her head. A young woman sat at a register in the back of the room. She wore large glasses and a vintage sweater with rainbows on it. She looked like she was tinkering with something, but had paused when she heard the crazy woman who’d just come in talking to herself.
“Sorry—no,” Eden said.
“Her eyes didn’t turn even turn white.” Gabi’s voice was muffled through Eden’s jeans pocket.
The girl looked up again. “Can I help you?”
“Uh, actually, maybe you can.” Eden glanced at the shelves as she walked through the room. Regardless of the modern interior, the shop was full of just the kinds of things Eden would have expected. There was incense, along with packets of herbs and colored stones. Eden slowed when she passed a sign that read, “Ground Bone, $4 per ounce.”
She reached the counter, where the girl was working away at her project again.
“I can’t get it to—go—back—in.” She shoved one more time. Then she sighed, letting go of a shrunken head that had apparently stopped resisting and settled back into its little body.
The girl smiled. “That ought to do it.” She set it aside, looking up quickly. “Don’t worry, it was never alive or anything. Well, not technically.”
“That’s a relief,” Gabi said.
The girl studied Eden. “So ... you’re not one of our regulars. Did someone refer you?”
“Well, kind of,” Eden said. “You see, a neighbor of mine was just here last weekend.” Eden paused, wondering how much to reveal. “Something happened to her.”
The girl’s face clouded. “Oh, I’m sorry, but all of our customers sign a waiver. We can’t be responsible for any issues resulting from the use of our products, and none of our products are intentionally sold for the purpose of harming others.” She winked. “But if you’re trying to get back at an ex-boyfriend it’s kind of don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“It’s nothing like that. I’m not blaming your store or anything.”
“Good.” She took a sip from a tall foam cup and tucked it away again. “I’m Madison, by the way.”
“The thing is, Madison, I’m just trying to figure out what happened to my friend. Her name was Martha Thorne.”
“Hmm. Doesn’t ring a bell.” She paused, narrowing her eyes. “Are you a cop? You don’t look like a cop.”
“No. I’m just a concerned neighbor. I’m hoping to pick up some clues about what was going on in her life before she passed.”
Madison clapped her hands suddenly. “Oh, like Jessica Fletcher? I streamed the whole Murder She Wrote series. She’s so lit! So how can I help?”
“If I could somehow find out what she purchased ...” Eden bit her lip. She knew no respectable establishment would violate someone’s privacy that way, but she had to ask.
“We do keep a record of what our customers purchase. That way if complications arise we may be able to help. It’s kind of like when you go to the doctor’s office and they ask you what medications you’re taking because some things do not mix. But of course we don’t have HIPAA forms.”
“So does that mean you’ll tell me what she bought?”
“Um, no. I’m not actually allowed to do that. A lot of our customers are pretty secretive. We’re not afraid of legal retribution so much as ... other kinds.”
“I understand. It’s just that—”
Maddy’s phone chimed. She glanced at it and put up a finger. “Can you hold on just a sec? I have to take this.”
“Sure.” Eden tapped her foot. She checked her watch, wondering if there was any possibility of getting the information she needed and making that meeting with her boss. So far, it didn’t seem like this was going anywhere, but she’d come this far. She couldn’t leave now.
If Mrs. Thorne had spoken to Madison, maybe Eden could have used her inheritance to encourage her to talk, but the old woman must have spoken to someone else. Whoever it was didn’t seem to be around. Too bad Eden couldn’t make the girl’s computer talk—at least, she didn’t think she could.
A smile spread across Eden’s face, and she slipped her phone out of her pocket.
Madison walked around the register and hurried to the other side of the store. “I know it was here somewhere,” she said, searching through a low shelf.
“Gabi,” Eden whispered.
“Oh, now you want me to talk?”
“You hacked the security cameras. Do you think you can hack their system and find purchases from last Friday?”
“That’s a tall order.”
Madison started coming their way, then stopped suddenly, turning to search another shelf. “Where did you get off to?”
“Hurry. Please? I’ll—I don’t know. What do phones want?”
“The same thing everybody wants. A little quality time with someone they love.”
“What does that mean? You practically live in my pocket.”
“If you don’t know—”
“Fine, I’ll play chess or Fruit Frenzy with you.”
Gabi laughed. “I was just messing with you. But it’s a deal. One moment, please.”
Madison walked back to the register and placed a strange statue with legs like a spider behind the counter. “I’ll put it on hold for you, but don’t wait too long. They have a tendency to scurry off. I keep telling Auntie to get a case for them, but—okay. Bye.”
Madison smiled at Eden. “Sorry about that. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Eden glanced at her phone. A gathering data message filled the screen. That meant she had to stall. “Yeah, I do have a question.” Eden pulled a small notebook out of her purse. She’d used it to press the plant Beverly had clipped from Martha’s yard. “Do you know what this is?” she asked, handing the girl the brittle sprig.
She sniffed it. “Smells like basil.”
Eden tipped her head back, feeling like an idiot for not placing the scent. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she’d used basil oil a time or two.
“So for cooking or relaxation, that kind of thing?”
“Sure, although it can be used for other stuff too.”
“Like what?”
“Well, it can be used in spells and all kinds of things. The most popular ones have to do with prosperity, success, and love.”
Eden frowned as she stuck the basil back into the book. There was no way of knowing whether Beverly liked to make spaghetti or was using it for some kind of spell or curse. But the secretive way she’d been acting when she’d cut it convinced Eden that Beverly was into some kind of magic-making, just as she’d expected. Maybe she’d even used it against Martha. She’d been successful in killing her, after all.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything, but does the name Beverly Ackleton ring a bell?”
Madison’s eyes narrowed, as if she were thinking. Then she nodded. “It does sound familiar. But you didn’t hear it from me.”
Eden narrowed her eyes at Madison, trying to play the role of super sleuth, since it seemed to excite her so much. “Why would someone come in at a particular time, say, after four on a Friday? Do people normally make appointments to shop here?”
“Oh, that’s when my aunt comes in on Fridays. She’s kind of the expert.” Madison frowned. “Did your friend talk to my aunt?”
“Yes. Is that bad?”
“Well, it probably means she was into some serious stuff.”
Eden glanced at her phone again. She sighed as the screen flashed got it. A message popped up. There were two sales after four. Both paid cash, which I’d fully expect at a store like this. Here are the two lists of ingredients.
“Madison, could I have a little more of your time?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”
There was a notepad and stubby pencil on the counter. Eden grabbed it and wrote down the two lists. She couldn’t have Madison reading Gabi’s messages. “I’m trying to figure out what different combinations do. I have a couple of lists here. Do you think you could help me out?”
Madison eyed her suspiciously. “And where did you get these lists?”
“From a friend.”
Madison shrugged again and took the lists. “Okay, I’m still pretty new at this. I mean, I grew up learning it, but they’ve only just started letting me do the harder stuff, like working with customers, complicated spells, harvesting fowl organs, that kind of stuff.” She studied the first list. “Musk thistle, skull of a naked mole rat—This is probably for someone who wants to get their stuff back from an ex or a really bad roommate.” She grinned. “And you’re in luck. Free naked mole rat skull with every purchase today.”
“Ick. And the other one?”
“Hmm.” She squinted at the list. “Black chicken feathers, milkweed root unearthed on a full moon ... I’d say it’s either to combat gluten intolerance, or ...”
“Or what?” Eden was beginning to wonder if this sweet girl had any idea what she was talking about.
Madison looked up, her expression dark. “Someone’s trying to protect themselves from someone really dangerous.”