“I was meaning to talk to you. But not like this!” I joked.
“Oh yeah?”
“With the new cat café law expansion, Alice said you might want to open a sister cat café for adoption. I have some info here,” I told her, fumbling in my purse.
Brooks’s watch tumbled out along with my wallet.
Cora reached down for it.
“I’d love to!” she said then looked down at the watch in her hand. “Early Christmas present? From a certain lawyer perhaps?”
“It’s Brooks’s; we’re looking for murder clues. Seems like Oakley wasn’t the only person he was cheating on me with.” I took the watch back.
“How a man as dumb as Brooks could juggle three affair partners is astounding,” Zoe said dryly. “The women of Harrogate truly have no self-respect.”
“How horrible for you, Emmie,” Cora said, her eyes wide.
“Well, keep me posted on the cat café.”
“The ho-ho hogroast was worth the wait,” I said as we made our way back to the café, eating and window shopping.
The air dropped by ten degrees as a black cat crossed my path.
I shivered. “Are you lost, little guy?”
The cat hissed and did that weird thing cats do where they crab walk sideways like they’re possessed by the devil.
“Salem, did you find us a customer?”
Smokey incense wafted out of a stall.
“’Sup, Lilith?” Zoe asked the town’s resident potential witch and purveyor of the only decent spices you could get in Harrogate.
“I hope you didn’t come to finally take me up on the offer of the voodoo doll,” the black-haired woman said.
“Maybe we could go ahead and buy it,” Zoe mused. “You know, it could help you process your cheating husband’s untimely death, especially if he fucks you out of your own house.”
“As much as I would have like to sell you the doll, it’s gone. I can make another.” One of her black fingernails trailed along the shelves filled with creepy Victorian artifacts. “We’d have to do a little grave robbing.” Lilith smiled like that was all she’d ever wanted in the world. “Or we could make one of a living person. Perhaps Oakley. Or one of the other women who were sleeping with your husband.”
“I don’t have disposable income to spend on voodoo dolls that don’t work. I need to up my spice order. The cardamom buns are flying off the shelves,” I said firmly.
“Oh, they work.” Lilith’s eyes were pools of black.
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re implying,” I said sharply.
“I know you didn’t kill him.” She stroked the black cat with a pale hand. “I know who did, though.” She flashed an enigmatic smile.
“Who?” I choked out. “I need proof.” Suddenly, the thought that this could all be over was overwhelming.
“The man who bought Brooks’s voodoo doll made with hair and nails you gave me.”
“Who?” Zoe demanded.
“Marius.”
“That’s absurd.” I barked out a laugh. “Just tell me how much for the extra spices.”
“Ask your grandmother why a man who dresses like a boring corporate drone is buying a voodoo doll.” She pulled out a deck of tarot cards. “Read your fortune?”
