“No. We all feel like that when we come out of the menopause brain fog,” Ange said, unprompted.
“We were just talking about vacation plans and dreams. Seeing Jimmy and Ms. Vine singing in front of an audience was so good. It got me all excited about trying new things myself.” I let that sink in for a moment, before I continued. “Or refreshing old skills. How about you?”
Linda twisted her wedding band. “And what if I make a fool of myself?”
The snarky voice in my head whispered, an even bigger one than usually? I shut it down. “Who cares? At our age, we should be done with wondering what other people think, as long as we’re happy and hurt nobody,” I said.
“Exactly. That’s what Nick keeps on telling his patients.” Ange exposed her henna tattoo. “I think it’s awesome that you got one too, no matter where you got it. You shouldn’t cover it up with too long sleeves.”
Linda pushed back her sleeve to admire her mehndi, in all its glory, including a tiny irregularity in the lace design.
My body temperature rose for a heartbeat. I should have put two and two together sooner. “Did you have it done in Cannon Hill so nobody in Willowmere would be the wiser if you didn’t like it after all?”
Linda’s face said it all.
I’d never thought I’d see the day, but I felt sorry for her, truly, deeply sorry. Aunt Violet though had foreseen it. I’d almost forgotten about it, but among the notes she’d left me about her clients had been a cryptic one about Linda. “To give to her when the need arises.” Since my aunt’s gift to match books and people had predated her witchy years, I’d kept those notes and referred to them on occasion.
I sensed it with all the fibers of my being that for Linda, the need had arisen. I sprinted to my desk, unlocked a drawer, and took out my copy of the precious notebook. Locating the two books Aunt Violet had prescribed for Linda was a matter of minutes.
When I returned, Linda was helping Ange put aside chairs and a bookcase on wheels and roll up the carpet.
“What’s that?” Linda asked when I offered her the books.
“Inspiration. I’ve dreamed for ages about going on vacation to Paris.”
Ange peered over Linda’s shoulder. “We should totally do a girls’ trip there.”
Cosmo’s whiskers twitched. Maybe he wanted to come too, to relive his French era.
Linda sighed. “I’d love to go, but I’m not sure Garth would care. He hates being away from the business for too long.”
A lightbulb went off in my head. I knew exactly what my aunt had planned when she chose Parisian stories for Linda. “What if hecould easily combine pleasure and business? There’s no better place for a jeweler than Paris. And while he does his thing, you could take a patisserie class, or learn to dance in a cabaret, or whatever floats your boat.”
Ange hummed the first bar of a melody that had been at the back of my mind. She lifted an imaginary petticoat, swished it and flung her legs. I did the same.
Ange hummed louder.
“You’re insane,” Linda declared.
Cosmo purred.
I held out my hand and said something that took me as much by surprise as everyone else. “Give it a whirl, girl.”
My long-time nemesis capitulated. Together, with all three of us, we danced the cancan, until the yoga ladies came in and we sank panting onto the floor.
Linda fled with her books and tea. I couldn’t blame her. She had a lot to digest, and so had I.
Linda had just unwittingly exposed a lie and maybe pointed the finger at a suddenly strong murder suspect. Now I had to wait for the yoga class to end, to discuss the revelation with Ange.
I thrust my hands into my pockets, only to experience another witchfire wave as I touched a piece of cardboard. I’d all but forgotten about the business card I’d removed from the chest.
Was it another clue?
Chapter 18
The instant the last yoga lady had left the building, I locked the front door and pulled Ange back into the library.
She grinned from ear to ear. “Give it a whirl, girl?”
