“I’m trying.” I didn’t have to pretend to feel awful; I’d been so caught up in Candice’s trouble that I’d forgotten to think about how Bert was coping. Maybe I should go and see him later, with my special cookies and healing tea.
Ms. Vine waved at me with a roll of adhesive book wrap. The stack of romance novels she’d dug out was now cleaned, labeled, catalogued and ready to entertain the residents of Serenity Springs.
“One more to go,” she said with obvious satisfaction. The white cotton gloves in use for this sort of operation needed a good wash, and the bottle with the spirit cleaner was half empty.
“You could have left that to me,” I protested.
“Nonsense. It’s good to feel useful.” She shot me a quizzing glance. “I don’t mind taking over this shift, if you want to go somewhere else.”
For a proclaimed non-witch, she had impressive skills of deduction. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I’d like to see how Bert is coping.”
“That’s an excellent idea, exactly what your aunt would have done in this situation. I’d planned to go through another box or two with donated books anyway.” She practically shooed me away.
“Let’s have a coffee break first,” I said.
I switched on the coffee maker, put the treats fromSweet Surprisein a bowl, added two plates, and carried them to the table in the reading nook.
Ms. Vine removed her gloves and took two cups while I filled the thermos. “I’ve been thinking about the children’s section.”
“I’ve built it up as much as possible, with the limited income from the subscription,” I said.
“I don’t doubt that. I was thinking more of how to fill more needs. So many parents work full time and families become smaller. One of the projects Violet and I had discussed was a story-book hour, connecting the youngest with some of our seniors. I’m sure having honorary grandparents or aunties could fill a gap for both generations.”
Noah’s image came to mind, and my own, when all I had left in the world was my aunt. My grandparents lived too far away to figure evenremotely in my upbringing. “That’s an interesting idea.” It should also help with turning the library into gossip central.
“I’ll be happy to work with you on the concept, once you’re less busy with other important matters.” She nibbled a rum ball. “Delicious. You should take some for Bert and his wife, in addition to your own cookies.” She winked at me.
“I will, and I’ll take Cosmo too, in case they’re in need of emotional support.”
He’d stayed upstairs. Ms. Vine only had a spare key to the library, not to our private rooms. Only my coven had access to the apartment, in case of an emergency.
I devoured a rum ball, left two macarons on the plate, and boxed the rest up again. Taking Cosmo with me gave me a chance to brief him on the investigation and fulfill his cherished role as guardian cat of Willowmere.
He sauntered across the hallway to greet me. “I thought you’d never come home.”
“I wasn’t gone that long.” I peered into the jars. I had only three stress and pain reducing anise cookies left. “How’s that possible?”
“What do you expect if you drop everything to go on a fun trip and next thing there’s another crime for us to solve?” He stretched his back. “I’ll wake you a little earlier tomorrow to do the baking.”
“Not too early, please.”
“Have I ever neglected your creature comforts?” He raised a paw as I opened my mouth to list the occasions when he’d insisted on rousing me long before the crack of dawn. “Unless there was a very good reason.”
“That’s true,” I admitted. I took a fresh tin, scooped in three tablespoons full of shredded tea leaves, and added the label with the instructions for dosage and brew times. This one didn’t take theexactitude of other of Aunt Violet’s recipes, but it would ease distress. It also tasted delicious.
I’d considered adding a spell to help Bert cope with his nicotine withdrawal but decided against it. There was a limit to safe meddling with someone’s body and mind.
Cosmo darted ahead of me in the erratic weave I’d learned to anticipate. Sometimes I suspected that he exaggerated his feline traits to prove to the world that he was nothing but an especially beautiful sleek black cat.
In the car, I recounted everything I’d heard, seen, said, and thought. He listened attentively, sitting upright in his stroller on the backseat, with his face pressed against the plastic bubble. Our gaze met in the mirror.
“You’re sure both women lied to you?” he asked when I had finished my report.
“I’m positive. I didn’t sense anything too bad, other than an understandable grudge against the late Tim Boyd.”
“If they didn’t lie about him as well. What a pity you’ve never met him in a social situation.”
“He didn’t raise my witchy hackles during the few occasions I saw him at the fair. He seemed to be an ordinary guy thinking a bit too high of himself. That is, until we spotted him with Candice. That felt off, even from a distance.”
