“The Marchefords don’t normally socialize,” Martha said warily.
Priscilla pursed her lips. “True. They haven’t attended a single community event in decades.”
Helen waved a hand dismissively. “It’s probably nothing.”
The Council moved on to closing remarks. Priscilla thanked everyone for attending. I rose with the others, my mind no longer on Council politics or salad debates.
The Marchefords had just become my next lead into the Lincoln sisters’ disappearance.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” I murmured to Bo as we followed Victoria and Pearl out of the room.
The Husky shot me a wary look. “You mean, how those sausage rolls would be great right about now?”
I swallowed a sigh. This dog had a one-track mind.
16
WOOD, LIES, AND SAUSAGE ROLLS
Didi staredat me as if I’d just suggested a naked moonlit sabbath.
It was the morning after the Council of Elders meeting and we were having a strategy summit in the main conference room at Hawthornes & Associates.
“The Marchefords were seen buying helium balloons, streamers, crepe paper, face paint, and sausage rolls,” the witch repeated flatly. “And the Council of Elders thought this was worth mentioning because…?”
“Because it’s strange.” I grimaced. “The Marchefords’ coven status got revoked. They apparently haven’t attended a community event in decades. And now they’re clearing out the general store in North Amberford like they’re prepping for a supernatural rave.”
Gavin’s horns popped out. He shoved them back down with both hands.
“The Marchefords were connected to theThornwicks,” he said nervously. “What if they’re involved in whatever happened to the Lincoln sisters?”
“Barney said they were pawns,” Didi reminded him. “Not masterminds.”
“Pawns can be reactivated,” Gavin countered.
This was a surprisingly astute observation from a man who’d set another complaint form on fire that morning because it startled him.
Bo’s head appeared above the edge of the table.
“Face paint and sausage rolls are classic luring tools,” the Husky said in a confident tone.
We all looked at him.
“I can’t believe I’m actually asking this, but according to who?” Didi asked dully.
“The Discovery Channel.” Bo’s ears pricked with authority. “There was a whole segment on cult recruitment. Step one: establish a welcoming environment with food. Step two: create a sense of spectacle.” He wagged his tail, his eyes bright with morbid delight. “Step three: mind control.”
“That was about a county fair in Ohio,” I said tiredly.
Bo licked his chops. “Still, the parallels are chilling.”
Samuel rubbed his jaw where he’d been leaning against the window with his arms folded.
“It’s worth checking out.” He met my gaze across the room, the mate bond humming warmly between us. “I’ve got the Alliance quarterly review this afternoon, so I can’t come. Take Didi and Gavin. Keep it low-key.”
“Low-key is my middlename,” I said.
Samuel’s face suggested he had compelling evidence to the contrary.
