“True,” Antonia agreed. “With people coming in and out, we’d better get a fridge and keep it in the attics over the kitchen. We can leave those rooms untouched for a while.”
Elizabeth nodded as she gathered up the remains of the picnic basket: fruit tarts, some sort of pâte and crackers, and a generous bowl of salad. “Pity we have to toss these. If Sam were here, he’d make short work of them.”
“But since he and Stella aren’t due for another week…”
“I know, I know. It’s just Adela did such a job on me about not wasting anything in the Universe.” Elizabeth sighed, thinking how much she really missed her stepmother.
“Out of curiosity,” Antonia asked, “was the food good?”
“Yeah! Very good, in fact. I’m not that great on sausage rolls, but those were good, and the chicken was delicious.”
“Good enough to consider for our tearoom?”
Why not? “Definitely. She does catering after all, and heck, this would be convenient for her.”
“Better keep her in mind.” Antonia glanced out of the French windows. “Assuming it ever gets built.”
“It will! Use your vampire mind control if they drag their feet.”
That got her a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t it time we checked into the hotel? Let’s do that, then go over to Collins Car Hire. I need transport.”
“Monica’s gone to get the boys from school,” the gray-haired woman said, watching Elizabeth with sharp, intelligent eyes. “She left the keys and the forms for you to sign. I can take care of it if you’ll give me your license.”
Elizabeth put her license and credit card on the counter—her real ones, now recovered at long last—and waved at Antonia through the open door. If she had fridge buying to do, no point in waiting, and besides, on her own, Elizabeth might find inclined to chat a bit.
“You must be Ida Collins.”
The woman looked up from studying the license, raised a gray eyebrow, and nodded. “I am. This was my son’s business. I help my daughter-in-law with it now. American, aren’t you?” Elizabeth agreed, she was. “You bought Orchard House?”
“No, my employer did. I’m just going to be working down here, so I’ll need a car.”
“Is your employer American?”
“Antonia? No, she’s British.” No need to say just how ancient a Briton she was.
Ida copied down the license number. “After the previous owner, I wondered. She was American, you know?”
“I do. It was through Dixie that I learned about the house being on the market.”
“I wish your employer better luck than the last owner.” Ida pushed the license back across the counter. Elizabeth closed her hand over the plastic rectangle and hesitated, hoping Ida would say more.
She didn’t.
“Dixie didn’t talk much about Bringham. Said just that she’d inherited the house from distant relatives and they sounded like local characters.”
“Characters!” Ida almost spat it out. “Nasty, tightfisted, spiteful old bisoms they were.” She paused as if about to say more. Elizabeth waited, but Ida had gone silent.
“Dixie mentioned finding books on herb lore and Wicca in the house.”
As a conversational probe, that wasn’t much help. Ida nodded. “Those two were always up to something.”
“And according to Dixie, they blatantly ignored the Reede to do harm to none.” That earned her a sharp look, but nothing more. Ida just finished filling in the forms and reached over to a hook for a set of keys. “My stepmother is a practicing Wiccan. She taught me a fair bit, and I wondered if there’s anyone around who practices the old ways.”
The keys jangled as Ida slapped them on the countertop. “You’re new here. If you’re planning on staying around a bit, don’t mention witches, Wiccans, or whatever you call them to anyone. No one wants to hear anything about that. Not now!” She turned the paper around so it faced Elizabeth. “Sign here and here and initial those three boxes. You’ve got the car for a month. If you want it longer, let us know.”
She’d been fishing for a response and certainly caught one. Interesting. “Thanks.”
Ida separated the back copy and handed it to Elizabeth with the key. “The car’s the red one. Fred’ll show you.” She called behind the service center, “Fred, customer’s ready for the red Fiat.”
“Thanks,” Elizabeth said. “Sorry if I offended you.”
Ida acknowledged the attempt at conciliation. “You weren’t to know. I doubt Dixie told you all that happened here. Come to that, she couldn’t. Half the trouble was after she left, and I don’t blame her running off the way she did. Must have scared the willies out of her. Someone tried to kill her.”
And finally succeeded, but that was by the way. “How terrible! What happened?” Tom and Dixie between them had told her everything, but Ida’s slant on it might be illuminating.
“The bastard got my only son instead. That’s why I’m working here. I moved back to Bringham to help out Monica. She wanted to keep the business going for her sons, but it’s too much on her own, and that useless mechanic…” she paused. “Fred! Customer’s waiting for the Fiat!” For a septuagenarian, Ida still had fine voice projection.
“Coming!” a voice called from outside.
“Thanks,” Elizabeth said to Ida. “Sorry again if I said the wrong thing.” Ida smiled and waved it off, and Elizabeth went out into the June sunshine with Fred.
The car was a zippy little compact with a hatchback that might well come in handy. After listening patiently to Fred demonstrating windshield wipers and automatic windows, Elizabeth drove off. Following Fred’s sketchy directions, she headed back toward Bringham.
As the car pulled out of sight, Ida reached for the phone, punching in the numbers with a shaky finger. “Emily Reade. It’s important.” While she waited to be transferred, her free hand tapped on the counter. This was bad news. Why did these darn Americans have to keep on turning up and causing trouble? Not that this one had done anything yet, but Ida trusted her instincts, and her instincts sensed upheaval and disharmony.
“Emily,” she all but snapped when Emily finally answered. “We have to meet. Soon. Very soon. I’ve just spoken to the woman who bought Orchard House. She’s a friend of Dixie’s and knows far too much. Dixie told her about the house, her aunts, and I don’t know what else! Even dropped hints about us! Too darn nosy for her own good. We have to do something. We can’t risk any more trouble.”
Emily was not about to argue. They both knew she’d kept her job in the bank by a slender chance. “Better warn Mildred then,” she replied. “We’ll meet at my house tomorrow after I get home. Six o’clock. Will you tell her?”
After Emily rang off, Ida dialed another number and caught Mildred Rowan at home. “Mildred,” Ida said, her voice shakier than ever. “We’ve run into a snag.”
Chapter 2
When Elizabeth waved from the open door of the little office, Antonia took it as ‘All’s well,’ waved back, and drove down the lane. Elizabeth seemed set, and no doubt, would have a nice time chatting witchy stuff to Ida. The thought didn’t give Antonia as much of the creeps as it would most of the colony, or at least the newer members. She remembered the days when the old religion still held sway in the woods and around isolated campfires. Still, she wondered how Tom, raised when witches were publicly tried and burned, quite handled getting intimate with one. Not that