“Something my aunt Tilly told me helped a lot in the last case.”
“Silly Tilly?” I pictured one of his eyebrows arching.
“Turns out there’s a wise side to her I never got to know when Morgana and Bronwen were alive.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said. “Lay some of that Tilly wisdom on me.”
“She told me that it’s more uncomfortable for us to raise the topic of the deceased than it is for the one in mourning. The grieving person usually finds solace in talking about their lost loved one.”
“That does make me feel a little better about contacting the families,” Travis said. “Maybe Tilly should add dispenser of wisdom to her resumé.”
We divvied up the list so I had three names and he had two. “I can handle all five if your real job needs you,” I assured him.
“I appreciate it, but I want to do some of the legwork in this case even if it means losing my beauty sleep. Besides you have a business to run too.”
* * * *
Elise Harkens came by the shop the next morning before opening, armed with a bag from the Breakfast Bar. Seeing her gave my spirit and my stomach a lift. I knew something was up the moment she walked in wearing makeup and high-heeled boots under serious pants, the kind you wear to church or an upscale restaurant. Or a job. “Do you have two minutes to talk?” she asked, dangling the bag under my nose as bribery.
By way of reply, I hiked myself onto the counter and patted the space beside me. Elise hopped up and set the bag between us.
“I’ve missed you,” I said.
She opened the bag and handed me a coffee and a bear claw. “That’s why I’m here. If we don’t catch each other up more often, we’ll need a month to do it.”
I removed the lid from my coffee and breathed in the heady aroma before taking a sip. “Is there a job I don’t know about?” I asked, too curious to wait until she brought it up.
“It sort of happened by accident,” she said. “You know I’ve been toying with the idea of going back to work. I don’t want to deplete my resources, and the money for the boys’ education has to remain sacrosanct.” She took a nibble of her pastry. “When I was up at the high school the other day, because Zach forgot his homework again, Lois Frame saw me and stopped to chat.” Elise read the question on my face and added, “She’s vice principal now. She said I saved her a phone call. It seems one of the English teachers went on maternity leave and her replacement quit the day before she was due to start. Some kind of family crisis. Lois asked if I might be interested. Since it was only for three months, she thought it would be a great way to ease back into teaching.”
“It does seem like a win-win,” I said. “If you enjoy it, you’ll know for sure you want to get back into teaching. If not, you only have to hang in there for three months while you contemplate other options. Seriously—what other job can you test drive?”
“That’s what I thought, so I said yes. I don’t start with my classes until tomorrow. Today is all the paperwork and a crash course on the curriculum, the school’s principles of education and teaching, yada, yada. I don’t have to be there until ten.” She sounded excited, but jumpy.
“Jitters over tomorrow?” I asked.
“Jitters on steroids. I haven’t been in front of a class in fifteen years. Plus Zach hates the idea of my working there even though I won’t be his teacher.”
“You wouldn’t be home in time for Noah if you had to commute to another high school.”
“He knows that, but he’s a teenager; he lives in the land of me, myself, and I. Communications with Earth are spotty at best.”
“I’m proud of you for not caving.”
Elise sighed. “Go me.” We were quiet for a bit, eating our bear claws and drinking our coffee. She broke the silence first. “You wouldn’t happen to have a little spell, something to prop up my confidence and make me fearless for the big day?”
There were a number of spells for courage and composure, but the spell to make one fearless was universally eschewed. Too many practitioners had tried it and wound up dead. A healthy dose of fear is a good thing, in spite of how uncomfortable it may feel. “The best spell I can give you is a calming spell,” I told her. “You already have more than enough courage and confidence; your nerves are simply blocking your access to them. Once you’re calmer, you’ll see that I’m right.”
“Do I need to write it down?”
“No, it’s really simple. Just look at the palm of your hand and repeat after me: ‘As I focus on my palm, I become relaxed and calm.’ Continue chanting it and looking at your palm until a feeling of peace comes over you. It’s a riff on repeating the sound ohm in meditation.”
“It’ll really work? Sorry—stupid question,” she said sheepishly. “You wouldn’t have given it to me if it didn’t work.”
“It does depend to a great degree on your input, your belief that the magick works.”
“I should know that by now,” she said, shaking her head.
“You do. You just need some centering.” The past five months had been hard on her. I don’t know if I would have handled things as well as she had.
“I’ll get there,” she said with her usual grit. “You’re up now, lady. What’s new? What’s going on with that handsome reporter of yours?” One of the things I loved about Elise was the honest interest she took in her friends no matter how deeply mired she might be in her own morass. As I ran through the investigation to date, her eyebrows cinched together. I knew that look. She was trying to tease something more from the few facts I’d laid out for her.
“Elise, you’re going to be late,” I said, suddenly noticing the time. Jolted out of her thoughts, she hopped off the counter, pulled on her coat, grabbed her purse, and was out the door in less than a minute. Too many appointments were casualties of our time together. We really had to start setting an alarm on our phones or get a good old-fashioned timer with a blaring bell.
Chapter 12
An influx of guests from the ski resort took up most of my lunch hour. They arrived as I was hanging the I’ll-be-back clock in the window. I couldn’t afford to close my door on that much possible revenue and word-of-mouth, so I set the clock aside and unlocked the door. They were a lively, raucous bunch who’d spent the morning on the slopes and were looking for a diversion before a second go-round in the afternoon. Most of them had clearly thrown back a hot toddy or two by the fire, before hitting Main Street. Their faces were red from a combination of the cold and the alcohol. They spent freely on gifts for the holidays as well as on products for their own consumption.
By the time they departed, I had ten minutes left. Grab lunch or try to set up an interview with a family member of one of the deceased? The phone call won. Since memory can fade with time, I’d decided to start with Martin Frank, the victim who’d been gone the longest. I wanted to speak to his family before their memories of the event deteriorated any further. Finding the phone number for his wife was harder than I anticipated and probably for the same reason I’d chosen the Frank family—six years had passed since his murder. There was no listing for Frank online. It was possible the number was unlisted. It was also possible that Martin’s wife and children had moved away or that she was now Mrs. Somebody Else. I used up my ten minutes with nothing to show for it. Since no one was beating down my door to come in, I stopped into Tilly’s shop before reopening, to ask if she had any ideas on how to locate the family or at least a working phone number.
“White magick won’t help you,” she said, picking up the plates from her last high tea. “It boils down to an invasion of privacy.” I wasn’t surprised by her answer, but I was disappointed. I took the