Page 13 of Grimoires & Glamoury

“I’ll go drive straight over to the police department and talk to someone. Have them write up a report,” Ruth said. “I’ve got all the paperwork the bank gave me. Maybe it will help them find her, and the money.”

“Keep me in the loop,” I said. “And why don’t we plan on meeting at the store tonight—say after close—and see if we can figure out a way to save the Witches Ball.”

“I could be there at six,” Ruth said.

“Perfect,” I said. “Call me if you need anything else.”

“I will,” she said. “Thanks, Lorna.”

We ended the call and I shut my eyes knowing the scandal of the missing Witches Ball funds would be all over the community within hours.

What in the hell has Shelby gotten herself mixed up with? I wondered. First there was a priceless grimoire apparently stolen by her boyfriend. Next their roommate had been murdered, and she and Sawyer were both missing…and now I’d found out that she’d cleaned out the Witches Ball bank account. Taken the cash and ran, apparently.

This was beyond bad. It would only be a matter of time before the police wanted to question me about what I knew about Shelby. Because they would speak to any of her friends, family, and employers. And once Ruth filed her report about Shelby cleaning out the account...

I debated calling Montgomery and sharing this news with him, but what I needed before doing that was deeper information about the missing couple. And I needed it to be gathered through conventional means.

Fortunately, I had a guy. He was a mundane, but damn good at his job. Selecting a number from my contacts list, I sent the call through.

The phone rang twice and was answered. “Nash Ellington, private investigator.”

“Hey, Nash,” I said. “It’s Lorna.”

“Hey gorgeous, what’s up?” he asked.

“Are you in your office? I need to talk to you.”

“I am,” he said. “I’m free until four.”

“Perfect. I’m on my way.”

Ending the call, I slipped my phone back in my purse and quickened my pace, heading back to the bookstore so I could drive my car over to Nash’s office.

Nash Ellington’s office was located in a brick strip mall in Five Points South. On either side of him, was a laundromat and a small Mexican grocery store. As I parked, I smiled at the Lady of Guadalupe novena candles on display in the window and walked to his entrance. Maybe I’d purchase one on the way home. Guadalupe was all about miracles, and I could definitely use some of that energy right about now.

Pushing the door open, I found Nash sitting behind his L-shaped desk with a bottle of Mexican Coca-Cola and a to-go container of food. He was tall, blonde, and buff with a military short-style haircut.

“I’m sorry,” I said automatically. “I’m interrupting your lunch.”

He waved that away. “It’s fine. Take a seat.”

I took one of the chairs in front of his desk and no sooner did I sit, my stomach decided to growl. Very loudly.

A wide grin split his face. “You want a chicken taco and some chips? I’ve got enough to share.”

“I would,” I admitted. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

Nash handed me a paper napkin and passed me a taco. It smelled delicious. Next, he scooted the chip container closer, then reached under his desk and pulled another soft drink out from a mini fridge. He twisted the top off and passed that over too.

“Thanks,” I said.

“What brings you in?” he asked and then took a bite of his food.

“I was hoping you could look into someone’s—well, two individuals’ backgrounds for me. Where they are from, and who their people are. And I need it done quietly.”

“As in off the books?”

I shook my head. “No, I need you to keep this on the down low because one man has been murdered and two other people are missing. I am concerned that one of the missing—who is an acquaintance of mine—might have gotten mixed up in something dangerous. Because from what I just learned, she also recently made a large withdrawal from the Witches Ball bank account.”