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We stepped through the doorway. There was nothing particularly extraordinary about the inside of her house. The décor was more modern than the outside suggested, all done in neutral shades. There was a bit of normal lived-in clutter and far more figurines than I found tasteful, but overall, it was a nice place. Some of the figurines were carved out of crystal, which I took as a good sign.
"Come in, come in," Mary gushed, beckoning toward the living room. "Sit, sit! Can I get you anything? Iced tea? Coffee? Tequila?"
"Er, no. I'm fine," said Seth, who was clearly becoming more and more uncomfortable with all of this. "Thank you."
He and I sat down on the couch, and Mary sat in an armchair across from us, leaning forward in a way that afforded an ample view of her br**sts. "What can I do for you?" she asked. "Are you here to buy something? I'd do anything for you. Anything ." She grinned at Seth, making her "anything" intentions obvious. "You're so much cuter than I expected. Will you sign my books while you're here? I own all of them."
She gestured toward a set of shelves on the wall, and sure enough, Seth's books stood out prominently. I had been a longtime fan girl of Seth's before we started going out, and I wondered uneasily if I'd sounded this crazed and desperate way back when. She probably would have passed out if she'd known about the advanced copy Seth gave me.
"Sure," said Seth. "I'd, um, be happy to." He elbowed me, no doubt in an effort to get me to state our business and save him. Still a little irritated from our car argument, I almost enjoyed watching him in her clutches.
"We're actually not here to buy anything," I told her. "We wanted to find out about a piece you might have recently made for someone."
Mary turned toward me, seeming to notice me for the first time. Her gleeful, ravenous expression dimmed and even turned a little suspicious. "Who are you again?"
"Georgina. We're wondering if you recently made a piece for a client. A carved disc about this big with some sort of arcane symbol on it." I approximated the size Carter had shown me.
Her face grew more wary and pinched. "I can't say."
I frowned. "You don't remember?"
She shook her head. "I keep records of all my pieces. But that's confidential. I can't give that kind of information away."
"This is really important," I said. "We think...there may be a crime involved."
"Sorry, Giselle. I can't tell you about that. Not unless you're with the police or something."
"Georgina," I corrected. Her adherence to client confidentiality was perfectly understandable-but well, I wasn't really concerned with what was morally correct right now. Giving Seth an elbow poke of my own, I hoped he'd jump in and use his author god power. It took him a few moments, but he did.
"It would help us so much, Mary. We'd- I'd -really appreciate it." He stumbled over the words a little, but from the way her face lit up, you'd think he'd just murmured the sexiest thing in her ear.
"Oh, Seth," she sighed. "I really would do anything for you...but, well, I do try to respect my clients' privacy. Surely a man like you understands that."
"Well, yeah, of course I-" I elbowed him again. He shot me a quick glare and then returned his gaze to her. "That is, I do understand, but like I said, this is really important."
Indecision warred on her face, and I kind of admired her principles. She actually looked uncrackable, and I had a feeling Seth wasn't going to be too much more assertive. Glancing beyond her, I noticed a hallway leading off to another part of the house. I keep records of all my pieces .
"You're right," I said abruptly. "We can't expect her to give out that kind of information. Right, Seth?"
He turned to me again, giving me a curious glance. "Right?" It was more of a question than an agreement.
Mary nearly melted in relief, her eyes all over Seth. "Oh, I knew you'd understand. I could tell right away that we think just alike. Kindred spirits and all that, you know? Just from the way you write I-"
"Hey, Mary?" I interrupted.
She looked over at me, again seeming astonished that I was still there.
"Do you have a bathroom I could use?"
"Bathroom?" she repeated, like it was a crazy concept.
"It was a long drive," I explained sweetly. "Besides, that'll give you and Seth a chance to get to know each other while he signs your books."
Her face brightened again, and she turned to Seth without another glance for me. "Oh, sure! That's a great idea, Georgia. It's down the hall."
I stood up. "Thanks."
Seth and I made brief eye contact. There was a look of both panic and wariness. He didn't want to be left alone. And he also knew I wouldn't give up the fight so easily. He suspected that I was up to something.
He was right. I was about to go break into Mary's records.
CHAPTER 15
Mary's excited blathering rang through the house as I hurried down the hallway. I could see the bathroom at the end and three closed doors along the way. Great. Did they have to be shut? With my luck, they'd probably squeak. I could only hope that Mary would remain too loud and too distracted to notice.
The first door opened-with no squeaking-into a bedroom. The bed was unmade, and clothes had been pushed into piles against the wall. An old dresser sat against one wall, and a nightstand with some papers stood near the other. There was also a mirror on the ceiling.
Shuddering, I considered going in to investigate the nightstand papers but decided to hold out and see if I might find an office behind one of the other two doors. Shutting this one silently, I continued down the hallway.
The second door did squeak, and I froze, waiting for Mary to come tearing down after me in an effort to bludgeon me with one of Seth's books. I wasn't entirely sure how far his star power would go to save me if caught snooping. She didn't look like the violent type, but one never knew. Fortunately, she kept talking without pause, and I stuck my head inside the new room. It was just another bedroom, a guest one by the looks of the dust and lack of personal items. I closed the door, grimacing at another squeak. One more room to go.
Jackpot.
The third wasn't an office, but it did appear to be a workspace. Wide tables lay along the walls, covered in chunks of crystal-clear quartz, smoky quartz, etc.-in various states. Some were raw and jagged; others were polished and carved. Tools like blades and picks lay nearby, along with a more sophisticated and modern-looking device I couldn't identify. Maybe some type of laser cutter.
Best of all, there was a two-drawer filing cabinet against the wall. I hurried to it, still mindful of Mary's chatter, and opened the top drawer. Over a hundred file folders with names met me. I pulled one at random and saw that it did indeed have a job order. There was a description of the item, client information, job status, and a picture of the finished product. Unfortunately, having all this information meant little to me. I had no idea what name had been used for the seal-or if Mary was even the one who had made it.
Frustrated, I opened the next drawer and found financial records, like bills and bank statements. I also located folders labeled "work logs" categorized by month. I eagerly pulled out this month's and discovered a simple list of dates, client names, and brief descriptions of products. All-except for the three most recent ones-had check marks beside them. Finished products, presumably.
I scanned the dates before Jerome's disappearance, cross-checking against the descriptions. Green Tara statue . Bracelet . Athame . Three invoices in the last two weeks caught my attention: round pendant, talisman, medallion . I recognized none of the client names, but the culprit could no doubt have used an alias.
Returning to the second drawer, I found each client's file. The pendant was the right size and shape, but it had a hole drilled in it for a chain or string. I couldn't say why, but something told me the seal's original form would be whole. The talisman turned out to be the wrong shape. It was thick and oblong, more like a stone someone would keep in their pocket for good luck.
I was starting to panic now. This was taking too long, and I couldn't hear Mary anymore. God, espionage had been so much easier when I could turn invisible. With shaking hands, I pulled out the last file-the medallion. The client was Sam Markowitz, and he'd picked it up four days ago. The photo depicted a flat, quarter-sized disc made of smoky quartz with symbols I didn't recognize etched onto it. Was that it? It was the closest I had to a match of Carter's description. There could be other matches-items ordered months ago-but I didn't have time to go through any more files. I shoved the medallion photo into my purse, closed the drawer, and hurried back out to the hall, half expecting to find Mary blocking my path.
