We went up to Harper and Reina’s lounge. Paper room dividers and natural woods created a Zen atmosphere, and floor-to-ceiling-windows looked out over the garden, with its trees, shrubs, and a small pond.
We swapped our shoes for felt slippers and settled on the low sofas.
Reina curled a strand of my hair around her fingers. “This color is amazing. It reminds me of your aunt.”
I checked in with my gut. Here, in this room, among my friends, I felt loved. And protected. “I think she wants me to do something.”
“Of course. She’s passed her legacy on to you.”
“More than the lending library. I don’t know if you’ve heard that the police are investigating Jake’s death because of a letter.”
Reina gasped. “What have I missed?”
“I was going to bring you up to speed, but I didn’t want to spoil your homecoming,” Harper said. “I heard he was murdered, but that’s all.”
“That’s all?” Reina repeated. “You and I have very different opinions about the meaning of those two words.”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Now you’re freaking me out.” Reina shook her head. “Go on.”
“The letter is news to me, but I was wondering why there was all this sudden action.”
Ange took over. “Turns out, Jake died from a huge dose of digitalis.”
“And it was my aunt who wrote to the police about it. She suspected straight away that something was wrong.”
They all gaped at me.
“And I assume now you believe it’s your duty to snoop around?” Harper asked.
“To assist with bringing the killer to justice.” I averted my gaze. Any sane person would tell me to leave the investigating to the professionals. Any sane person, not currently living with a talking cat, in a house with a secret witch’s lair.
“That’s a lot to take in,” Reina said. “I guess that was the point of bringing him up tonight?”
“Yes.”
Reina extracted herself from the sofa and disappeared behind a room divider. She returned with pen and paper. She drew two vertical lines. “Means, motive, opportunity. That’s what we need to figure out.” She tapped the pencil on her teeth. “We are doing this together, right?”
“What kind of a question is that? Of course we’re helping Bex.” Ange’s eyes gleamed. “I thought we’ll start with the tarot.”
“Whoa,” Harper stopped her. “If we’re going to do this, we have to do it right and start at the beginning.” She gave me a quizzical glance.
I ticked my questions off on my fingers. “We need the time of death, who had access to the house, plus who stood to gain, either from an inheritance or from silencing Jake.”
“What do we have so far?” Harper took pen and paper from her wife.
“Let’s start with motives. And no word to anyone else outside our circle,” I warned.
Harper slammed her hand down. Reina put hers on top. So did Ange. I was last, savoring the connection. This was where I belonged.
“What happens in this room, stays in this room,” Reina chanted.
“There’s Doc Hansen’s grandson, and his parents,” Ange said. “Getting Kyle into an Ivy League school is all they’ve been striving for since the boy was born.” She scratched her nose, probably to help her thinking. “Then there’s that hunter, the one Darla mentioned.”
“The one we met tonight?” I asked, surprised. During our original chat, I’d had the impression Darla wasn’t too keen on the unnamed person.
“The cousin, Billy-Bob. He said it was a mistake, when he shot the wrong bird. Jake pointed out that only a week before he’d boasted about renewing his private pilot’s license with flying colors, without needing contact lenses.” Harper wrote Billy-Bob down under motive.
