"Why?" Deva asked, her brows drawing together in confusion while she wrapped up Beth's injuries on her arms and chest.
But Beth didn't have to tell me why, because I already knew. Pulling a little notebook out from behind the counter, I opened it to the marked page. “This is the list of people requesting our help.”
With a low whistle, Deva looked over the list. “That’s got to be twenty names.”
At least. I'd been shocked by how many people had been calling us recently. Beth had told me it was really strange. That before I came along, she was lucky if she had one person a week. Now, we had a voicemail box filled with messages we hadn't even had a chance to check yet, and even more people we'd talked to and agreed to help. At first, we'd quickly agreed to each person, but now we were having to tell them it might be a little while until we could get to their problem. It was sort of bitter-sweet. Beth and I were both happy to make more money and stay busy, but this whole thing was verging on being overwhelming.
“I know, it's a lot," I confessed, more exhaustion in my voice than I'd wanted to show. "I don’t think we can spare the time to try to help Callie again. We’ve tried three times, but this curse is bigger than us. She’s going to have to try someone else. We can’t be the only game around.”
"We aren't," Beth told me. "I already texted Callie with the name of another agency. I'm not sure how much Callie knows about the supernatural world, but the number I gave her was to a group of witches with a strong ability when it comes to shapeshifting."
"That's something at least," Deva said, gathering up the trash on the table and dropping it into the trash before washing her hands.
“At least we’ve dealt with the worst cases,” I said. “We sort of prioritized them, the way a hospital emergency road would, rather than first come first served.”
Deva returned to the table and took the list, focusing on the names and the info after them. Each name had a short description of each person’s problem listed beside them. “You know, I think a couple of these I could help with the right recipe.”
Help with?A strange chill rolls over me.Of course, our other friends could help!
“I never thought of that,” Beth said excitedly.
“And, when I opened Deva's Delights, I wanted to help people, and I do, but this way I could help individuals in a different way.” Deva’s eyes brightened. “Let me see what I can cook up.”
I couldn't possibly explain how grateful I was, so I just gave her my best smile. Overhead, one of Beth's birds flew over our table, then landed on her perch in one corner of the office. Buster, who was sitting on his scratching post, eyed the bird with a look that made me want to take it far from the grumpy cat. But Beth had reassured me that Buster was all bark and no bite. She'd actually caught him snuggled up to the cat sleeping one day. It made my heart soften a little toward the cat who always seemed to have something snarky to say about me.
“Stop staring,” Buster said. “Your eyes will freeze that way.”
“Oh, hush, you curmudgeon.”
Marble, another one of Beth's cats, crossed the room, and lifted the little doggy door we'd had installed to let the animals enjoy the deck and the fresh air. I almost asked what in the world the cat was doing, when Beth's lizard went shooting out the door. Marble fell after him, lazily, and then the two of them adjusted themselves on the deck just outside the window we're seated by, apparently bathing in the sun.
"These animals are so dang lucky," I mutter.
Beth laughs. "Well, we're lucky to have them too."
"Darn right," Buster mumbles, not even bothering to open his eyes.
I shook my head, but I was smiling.
We sat down to the lunch Deva had brought with her, and I started telling them about the fiasco at Carol’s this morning. “You guys, I couldn’t tell her.”
“Why not?” Beth asked with surprise in her voice. “It’s for her own good.”
How could I explain? I knew all logic said I should tell her. That by letting her date a possible murderer, a man who had asked me to kill someone, and then the same person had ended up dead, was a bad idea. Even though we hadn't told Vance or the other detectives, Bryan was our number one suspect. And yet, I hadn't.
It took me a minute to form the words, but nothing sounded right, so I just started talking. “I’ve never, and I meanneverseen her that happy. This is beyond anything I’ve ever seen from her. And I just... I couldn't do that to her. Not if we're not sure.”
Deva nodded. “It's true. She positively glowed when she walked into the house last night.”
“She’s happy, let her be happy,” Buster the cat said in his gravelly voice. “You only live once. And the guy smelled okay to me.”
Smelled okay? Uh, yeah, not sure if that should be the deciding factor on what to do with Bryan, but I wasn’t about to say so. Buster could be a real pill when he's in a mood like he was today. Okay, the mood he's typically in.
But Beth arched her eyebrow at the kitty. “Glad to know your opinion.”
“You’re welcome.” He stretched and arched his back, then presented Beth with his butthole before jumping off the counter and ambling toward the stairs.
“Maybe he’s right,” Beth mumbled as she unwrapped a sandwich. “You do only live once.”
