As we hurried up the stairs, my mind raced. Whatshould I do with my concerns about Wind Spirit? Should I ask Carlos to check her out? As usual, my suspicions were based on very little substance.
I would call Bronwyn first, I decided. For all I knew, she might have been with Wind Spirit when Tristan was attacked, and could offer her coven sister a hard- and-fast alibi.
“I’m feeling a mite peckish, how ’bout you?” Oscar said as we entered the upstairs apartment. “I thought Calypso was gonna whip up something good in that mortar of hers, but it turned out to be nothing but some crazy-ass glamour magic.”
“There’s some lasagna in the freezer; why don’t you preheat the oven while I make a call?”
Then I went into the bedroom and dialed Bronwyn’s number. I explained to her I had reason to suspect Wind Spirit was involved in Tristan’s death, and in setting up Sailor.
Bronwyn sounded stunned and stammered, “I—I just can’t imagine how that could be true, Lily. I mean, I... Wind Spirit is an initiate to theWelcomecoven. We’re all about peace and light.”
“I know it’s hard to imagine, Bronwyn, but maybe she was just using you, and the coven, to get close to what’s going on. Or as cover, so no one discovered her motives.”
“I simply can’t believe it.”
“I know it’s hard to wrap your mind around. But sometimes friends aren’t all we would want them to be. Of course, I could well be wrong, but if you give me her last name and a phone number, I could ask Carlos to speak with her and see whether or not there’s anything to worry about.”
“Carlos will speak to her personally?”
“You know he’ll be polite, and discreet. It’s... You’reright—I’m probably wrong. But we have to check this out. Just imagine if I’m right.”
“Of course.” Bronwyn gave me Amy’s last name and phone number. “What will this mean for the Magical Match Tea? She’s part of the steering committee!”
I didn’t point out that the entire coven was part of the steering committee. “We’ll be fine. Oh! See, that’s another thing—remember how insistent Wind Spirit was that we should serve Renee Baker’s cupcakes at the Magical Match Tea?”
“They really are wonderful cupcakes, Lily. I don’t understand why you’re so mistrustful.”
I realized it was difficult not to fill my friends in on all the goings-on. How best to tell them what I feared about the cupcake lady?
“I have reason not to trust Renee, Bronwyn, and so do you. I can’t fill you in on all the details right now, but please believe me when I say she’s not what she seems.”
“If she concerns you, Lily, that’s good enough for me. We can make our own cupcakes, after all!”
“I believe I’m down for three dozen cookies, as a matter of fact.”
“Oooh, your special macadamia nut chocolate and butterscotch chip?”
“Of course,” I said with a smile. “I’ve already bought all the ingredients. Oscar and I will whip up a batch right after dinner.”
“Wonderful! Oh, by the way, did you pick up your messages? Maya found something she thought might interest you, about that symbol she was researching. She left a note with your mail.”
“Thanks, I’ll go check it out.”
As I hung up, I wondered whether it would be better not to involve Carlos. After all, what could I tell him? That Wind Spirit was stronger than she looked, andthat she was fond of cupcakes? I could hear him laughing now. Carlos was far too polite to actually laugh at me, but he’d give me that incredulous look of his, which was even worse. I could mention the mushrooms, I supposed, but that was about the only possible tangible link to Tristan’s murder.
Maybe it would be better to talk to Wind Spirit myself at the Magical Match Tea and try to coax her to admit her involvement. I had it on good authority that I could be very persuasive....
While I sat on my bed, pondering, my gaze alighted on the closet door. It was slightly ajar.
I hadn’t left it that way.
IknewI hadn’t left it that way. I might leave dishes in the sink, toss my nightgown in a corner, or let my Keds lie where they fell, but I was a nut about closing drawers and closet doors. It was the result of early training; in Graciela’s house, there were things that had to be kept secured behind closed doors.
I surged off the bed, threw the closet door open, and looked for the shoe box.
Gone.
“Did I hear something about whipping up some cookies?” Oscar called out from the other room.
