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Placing a hand on my shoulder, she smiled down at me. "Cicely, my mother had faith in you. I'm not sure what she expected you to do, but she was waiting for you to return. Don't let her down."
We finished up quietly, then Anadey removed her apron and called to Peyton while Jim paid the bill. Over my protest, he paid for all of us.
Once out on the street, Leo excused himself. "My employers are going to wake up soon for the night. I have work to do before then."
Rhiannon frowned. "It doesn't do to keep Geoffrey waiting, does it?"
Leo shook his head. "No. No, it doesn't. I have to change before I make my daily report. They require more formal clothes than Windbreakers and torn jeans." He gave Rhiannon a kiss and jogged down the street.
"Call me if you need anything. I'll get the paperwork started and let you know when things are ready for you to officially open the business. It will probably take about a week or so for everything to go through." Jim headed toward a silver Beemer.
As Peyton and her mother got in the backseat, and Rhiannon and I climbed in the front of Favonis, I couldn't help but wonder just how much Marta had known about what we were facing. And if there was any way of contacting her spirit to find out.
Marta's house had to be a hundred if it was a day. One of those wonderful places with a wide veranda, it included the requisite swing, and if we had warmer summers here in western Washington, I could imagine the parties that porch would have seen. As it was, Marta appeared to have used most of the space to store various bags and boxes--rock salt, sulfur, and potting soil; what looked like a huge box of short, white taper candles; crystals and other odd-looking rocks; pieces of wood that I guessed were for wands and short staves.
A sign was tacked on one of the newel posts. It read: BEWITCHERY GARDENS: FOR ALL YOUR MAGICAL NEEDS. Well, I knew I'd be changing that name. Just not my style.
"All of this stuff is yours. Well, maybe not the potting soil, but I won't begrudge you that if you want it."
Anadey unlocked the door and we followed her through the foyer into the living room, which totally upset my expectations. The furniture was sleek, not heavy and upholstered. A lot of chrome and glass, a gray leather sofa, bookshelves stained with ebony rather than a dark mahogany. Modern, with a minimalist bent. Not at all what I'd been expecting. A few scattered pictures of Anadey and Peyton ornamented the walls, and there were even fewer doilies and tchotchkes.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable while I find my list here . . ."
She hunted through a desk in the corner as I wandered around the living room. Marta had been tidy, that was obvious. Meticulous, in fact. Everything pointed the same direction, everything was lined up perfectly. As I moved over to the DVD shelf, I noticed all the movies were in alphabetical order by title.
Peyton wandered up beside me. "My grandmother was one of those everything-in-its-place people. I used to drive her nuts when I was little by dragging things off the shelves or out of drawers and putting them back wrong."
I glanced at her. Peyton was tall, taller than either Rhiannon or me, and she looked part Native American, with long, brown hair and a slightly flat nose, and eyes that were the color of dark chocolate. She wasn't classically beautiful, but something shone through that gave her a smoldering, sexy feel.
"Do you like working with your mother?"
She shrugged. "She started the diner a few years back and needed me to cook. We're getting to the point where she'll be able to hire someone new, soon, and I can do what I really want to do."
"What's that?"
"I want to open a shop called Magical Investigations. I'd like to work as a psychic investigator. I'm half-Were, but also half-magic-born, and I have a real knack with the cards. I've also got martial arts training. I moonlight now, taking a few private clients, but I'd love to do it full-time."
That gave me an idea. "Hmm. That sounds interesting. And it might be even more fun if you had another witch attached to the business. What do you think about working out of my shop once I get it going? We could team up if needed, especially since I know nothing about running a business. Our first case can be finding out where the hell my aunt is."
Peyton grinned. "My grandma was right--you're a go-getter. I'll think about it. Seriously, it might be a perfect match."
A moment later, Anadey had spread out several sheets of paper on the old oak dining table. "Come on over. She motioned to Peyton, Rhiannon, and me. "Sit down, please. There's a room upstairs with my mother's magical tools, but I'd like to wait on those. There may be something I want--for sentimental value."
"Of course," I said, once again not wanting to overstep my bounds.
"Then there are the supplies on the front porch, another room filled with supplies, and the books. On that shelf over there"--she pointed to one of the wide wall-to-wall built-in bookshelves--"the entire middle section is yours. Why don't you start with them? We've got some boxes and can easily pack them up this afternoon."
Rhiannon and I wandered over to the bookshelves while Peyton ran to get boxes for us. Tome after tome of magical work lined up, all for the taking. I was practically drooling by the time I had scanned two shelves.
Anadey let out a long sigh as she wearily rubbed her feet and leaned back in the rocking chair.
Peyton returned with a half dozen boxes for us, and then dropped by her mother's side. "Let me rub your feet, you've been on them too long today."
Sighing with relief, Anadey sat back. "So, tell me," she said after a moment. "Tell me about Heather."
Rhiannon put down the book she'd been looking at. "Not much to tell. I came home from work and she was gone." She crossed over to Anadey and held out the necklace. "This was all we found. Well, this and some blood."
"We think whatever's . . . in the woods . . . got her," I said.
