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“No, especially since it already happened, but I figured it was worth a shot,” I said.
“What’ve you got?”
I backed up the video and showed it to her. “This happened the other day at a festival. Someone did a spell to make everyone suddenly start dancing, and they told that TV reporter that something was going to happen to demonstrate magic. But this woman”—I tapped Matilda’s image on the screen—“not only isn’t dancing, but seems to be doing some kind of spell.”
She leaned over to study it. “Your crowd isn’t dancing, either.”
“Yeah, because the guys cast a spell to shield us. So I’m trying to figure out if she’s also doing a shield spell or if she’s the one casting the dancing spell. I can’t seem to find a good shot of her before the dancing starts to see when she begins doing the magic.”
“Do you know who she is?”
“Her name’s Matilda, and she’s apparently from a really wealthy, powerful magical family. Owen and Rod know her from school, and they do
n’t like her very much. She was all over Owen when we ran into her, but he said she barely noticed him at school.”
“So, you want her to be the bad guy,” she said with a grin. “That’s one way to take out the competition.”
“No, not really. I only looked for her on the footage when I ruled out my other suspects, and I looked for her more out of curiosity than suspicion. That’s when I saw what she was doing. But I wouldn’t necessarily mind if she’s a bad guy.”
“Anyone with hair that swings like that has to be at least a little bit evil. Seriously, achieving that degree of smooth, not even the slightest bit of frizz, in this humidity must have involved a pact with the devil.”
“I know, right? Maybe I’d better take this to Sam.”
I sent a message with the video attached, and was surprised by how quickly I got a response—and how vehement it was. “Don’t even think about making accusations unless you have absolute proof,” his message said. “Their lawyers have lawyers, magical ones. We don’t want to tangle with them.”
I found that even more suspicious, and it only made me want to investigate her more. But I could see Sam’s point. If I tipped her off about my suspicions, I’d never stand a chance of catching her. She’d cover her tracks, and she had the resources for a good cover-up.
So, now what?
Research, to start with. I only had what Owen had told me to go on, so I looked up her family name. They owned a lot of property, in Manhattan and elsewhere, but several of their personal properties were listed as being up for sale. Interesting. Were they no longer planning weekends at the beach in resort areas across the globe, or did they need cash? The family business appeared to be travel services for magical people, which included magical hotels and resorts around the world, as well as magical transportation. That might have explained the property downsizing. Why own a vacation house when you own a hotel?
I wondered what made a hotel “magical.” Most magical people could conjure up whatever they wanted, so there was no need for room service. About the only way I could think of that a magical hotel might be different from any other was if all the guests were magical, then they could let down their veils and actually be magical people. That might be appealing enough to be worth it. Most magical people had money because their power gave them an advantage, so the target market was pretty high-end.
Still, it was hardly the making of a fortune, unless it was old family money and the business was just a moderately profitable hobby. Unfortunately, magical businesses weren’t publicly traded, so there was no financial information available to tell me how the business was doing. I’d reached a dead end, especially since I’d have to be careful about any inquiries I made. These people were probably very well connected in the magical world. Anything I said stood a good chance of getting back to them.
There was one place I could think of where I might be able to get the information I wanted. I headed up to Prophets and Lost. It was a weird department that wasn’t entirely reliable, but even if Minerva couldn’t use her powers to tell me all about Matilda’s family and their business, I suspected she’d have all the relevant gossip. We just needed to be able to talk privately. I trusted Minerva, but I wasn’t entirely sure about the rest of her staff.
Minerva was leaning over her crystal ball when I arrived, and it took her a moment to become aware of my presence. “Why, Katie, this is a surprise,” she said. “And I mean that. Odd, you’re psychically invisible to me.”
“All the time, or just now?” I asked.
She frowned. “You’d think I’d have noticed before now if it was all the time.”
“Or maybe there’s never been anything about me you needed to predict.”
“I think I usually read you through Owen, but whatever you’re up to right now, it’s not about him.”
“No, it’s not,” I said. “Not directly, anyway. Can we speak privately?”
“Of course!” She waved her hand, and the door closed. Gauzy red curtains on rods around the room shifted to surround us. “Not only do they set a mood,” she explained, “but they also keep anyone from prying. Now, how can I help you?”
“You know I’ve been working on all these public magic incidents, right?” I began, then went on to explain my progress and my suspicions. “What can you tell me about Matilda and the Mayfair family?”
“I don’t suppose you got any of her hairs, did you?”
“I didn’t get close enough for any to get on me. And that’s if a single strand of her hair would dare leave her head. Why? Do you need something from her for your spell?”
“Having a piece of her body does help, but I was mostly curious about her roots. There’s no way that color is natural. Ah, well, I guess I’ll have to do it the not so hard way.” She waved her hand over her crystal ball, squinted at it, picked it up and shook it, then looked at it from another angle. “There’s a shadow around her, but I can’t quite tell you what it is. I’m also getting a sense of money problems.”
