Bo poked his snout out between my legs.
“We might be too late,” the Husky contributed in the macabre tone of a dog addicted to crime shows. “The Lincoln sisters may have already been composted without their consent.”
Mrs. Chen stared at my dog.
“Is it me, or has his vocabulary expanded considerably since your move to the Hawthornes?” the witch asked me sharply.
I resolved to have a word with Pearl at the earliest opportunity.
“And to answer the mutt’s question, that’s unlikely.” Mrs. Chen waved a hand. “Their magic signatures wouldn’t have just frozen if they were dead. They would have vanished. And your compliance department would have been the first to know.”
I chewed my lip. The witch was right. Didi would have been screaming it like a banshee from the rooftops.
“What are the Marchefords up to these days?” I asked curiously.
“They run a small woodcarving business in North Amberford. They stick to themselves, mostly. The other covens keep tabs on them.”
That pretty much ruled them out as our suspects.
“And the Thornwicks? Anyone know what happened to them after they were kicked out of Amberford?” I asked hopefully. “Like, maybe they started a coven in a new town?”
“They wouldn’t have been allowed to.” Mrs. Chen’s eyes glimmered with an intensity that made my belly knot. “Covens share information from the East Coast all the way to the West. If the Thornwicks had started practicing magic again, they would have been reported. As far as everyone knows, they vanished off the map after their banishment. No one has seen or heard from them in decades.”
I stared. “Couldn’t they just have set up shop under a fake name?”
Mrs. Chen shook her head. “That’s not how it works. A family’s magical signature is unique. It cannot be changed.” She shuddered. “And the Thornwicks’ signature is pretty renown in these parts.”
There went my theory.
Bo crept out from beneath the settee. “Maybe they came back to Amberford and are, youknow, lying low?”
“If they have, no coven has mentioned it.” Mrs. Chen wrinkled her brow. “And it hasn’t made any of the chat rooms.”
Bo emerged fully and slowly wagged his tail. “You mean, Hexbook?”
“I prefer The Cauldron.” Mrs. Chen sniffed. “Hexbook is too hippie for my taste. As for Witchboard, that place is a cesspit of magic wannabes.”
Mimi sneered. “Upstarts, all of them.”
Chat room preference was evidently a big thing among witches and their familiars.
“I’ve told you everything I know for now,” Mrs. Chen said, signaling the end of our conversation.
I rose reluctantly. “Thanks. This was helpful.”
Mrs. Chen escorted us to the door.
“The Lincoln sisters are good women,” she said quietly. “They’ve healed more supernatural creatures in this town than anyone can count.” The witch paused, her hand on the doorframe. “I hope you find them. Before whoever took them finishes what they started.”
The weight of her words settled over me like a shroud as I found myself back in the hallway, the familiar smell of mildew and old carpet rising around me.
Bo’s tail drooped. “That was super ominous.”
My phone buzzed as we made our way down the stairs. It was a text from Samuel.
Meeting ran long. Heading back now. Find anything useful?
I typed back quickly.
