Larcency and Lace Part 18

"Probable cause?" I repeated.

Werner sighed. "Conspiracy to commit murder, for a start."

"You think Suzanne and I conspired to kill Sampson?" Tunney asked. "Why would we?"

"Miss Sampson is Broderick's sister," Werner said. "Consequently, he must have left everything to her."

"So you don't have a will," I asked.

Werner ignored me and focused on Tunney. "Since you're dating Suzanne seriously, it follows that the two of you could have killed Broderick to get rich."

Tunney chuckled. "Suzanne and I are not dating at all. We've been over for some time. You're a little mixed up there, Detective."

"Detective," I said. "Since I own the piece of real estate that matches Sampson's, I called the chain store and let them make me an offer. In doing so, I learned, right before the party, that Sampson had no choice but to sell. The IRS was breathing down his neck for tax evasion, and he didn't want to go to jail. Sampson died broke."

Suzanne shrieked.

Werner regarded Tunney, who grinned, but he put Tunney and Suzanne in the squad car anyway.

Werner looked back at me. "Stop sleuthing, Madeira. First chance you get, call the station with the seller's phone number for police follow-up. Now go away."

My jaw dropped. "Talk about grat.i.tude."

"Ladybug, let's go, before he arrests you."

"This isn't an arrest," Werner called after us. "I'm taking them in for questioning."

He'd ruined my party, even if he did wait until he got outside. The windows were filled with the faces of curious partygoers.

Our guests speculated that Werner had been waiting to catch Tunney and Suzanne together, a theory that didn't hold water. Whatever his reason, why did he have to take them in at my party? Celebrating ended abruptly after that, and though I hated to see everyone go, an empty house meant more time alone with Nick.

Eventually, only Fiona and the family were left.

"Tricia said she'd planned to stay the night, Dad," Alex said. "And since Nick and I have to fly out early in the morning, is it okay if we stick with the plan?"

"Of course. Fiona's staying as well."

I sighed. n.o.body had invited Nick. I walked him outside. On the front step, we resumed where we'd left off, his lips cool and hungry against mine, my fingers in the hair at his nape, my spirits lifting, my problems dissolving, until Aunt Fiona opened the front door, and we nearly fell into the front hall.

"I've been sent," she whispered with a wink, "though I'm not supposed to admit it. Use the keeping room stairs while your father's locking the back doors. He says Nick will ruin his suit climbing up the getaway tree."

"Yes!" I grabbed Nick's hand, and we ran. Let the spontaneous combustion begin!

Too soon, dawn arrived, and Tricia and I were waving Nick and Alex off. "Same a.s.signment, new location," was all they said before they left. As the waiting limo disappeared, Tricia and I commiserated, compared notes, and she giggled.

"I guess you had a good night," I said.

"Excellent and unplanned. Kelsey might be getting a new brother or sister. Don't worry," she said. "We discussed it first and decided it was a good idea."

"I'll bet you did." We went in arm in arm and met Fiona coming down beside Dad carrying Chakra and Kelsey.

"Oh, so now I know where you were all night, deserter cat."

"Sleeping at the foot of Kelsey's crib," Tricia said.

"Did they leave on time?" my father asked. "I mean, did Alex leave-"

I kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Dad."

"Well," he bl.u.s.tered, "as Fiona said, your mother and I had been married for years by the time we were your age."

"Hey, way to make a girl feel old."

"Not old," Aunt Fiona said. "Grown up and able to make her own decisions."

I checked the time. "With only ten days till my grand opening, this grown-up has to open her shop by seven for the electricians, not to mention setting out stock."

And I had to make sure that my resident ghost didn't materialize, speak up, and give the guy, or any of his men a stroke.

Twenty-eight.

The only way to get forward in fas.h.i.+on is to return to construction.

-JOHN GALLIANO.

"Dante," I called when I got to the shop. He appeared, and Chakra and I screamed.

He shook his head. "I rest my case."

"Well, if I do that, think of the people who don't expect you to appear."

"Like who?"

"The electricians who'll be here any minute. Do me a favor and stay invisible? I can't afford to repeat the plumber incident. There've been too many weird happenings here already. Before I know it, the place will have a bad rep, and business will suffer. Don't appear, okay?"

He disappeared.

"Dante, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You can stay while I'm alone." But he didn't reappear, and that concerned me. "We're friends," I yelled, worried I'd seen the last of him.

With the electricians upstairs, I set up tables and sorted donation boxes into two types, the scarecrow and the vintage. Vintage went on hangers, the rest on tables.

To my surprise, Aunt Fiona and Eve's mother came to lend a hand. "Mrs. Meyers, thank you so much for coming."

Lovable, pet.i.te, and soft-spoken, Olga Meyers twisted sentences like she thought in German and translated to English. She wore matronly cotton print housedresses and devoted herself to being a wife and mother. Except for the lovable part, she was the anti-Eve. I'd slept at her house so often after losing my mother, I remembered Mrs. Meyers's good-night kisses better than my mom's.

"Aunt Fiona?" I asked. "Don't you have any clients or court cases this week? You've been around a lot."

"I took vacation time when I knew you were coming home. I figured you could use an extra hand."

"Two hands, extra," Mrs. Meyers said, "with Eve and your dad, for the semester, back to college."

"Well, I certainly can use every hand." I gave Aunt Fiona a steamer to smooth out vintage wrinkles, because I knew she'd use a light hand, and asked Mrs. Meyers to fold scarecrow donations while I continued sorting. By ten, my second floor had working fluorescents, the electricians on their way out the door.

"Olga," Aunt Fiona said. "You needed to start baking by mid-morning for the church bazaar."

"Oh, yes." She kissed my cheek. "Anytime, I'll come and help, Madeira. You call."

Aunt Fiona and I stood alone. "Time for the ritual sweeping?" I asked. "If you still want to, I mean. If you think we need-"

She chuckled. "No reason to be nervous. You won't break into witch speak or get an uncontrollable urge to circle Mystick Falls on a broom."

I'm not nervous, I'm out of my mind, I thought. Once doors were locked, Aunt Fiona's two big needleworked bags of supplies yielded candles, stones, essential oils, herbs, and sea salt. She had also brought in two, count them, two well-used round-bottomed brooms. "Let's get started," she said. "G.o.ddess forbid your father should come by."

"Dad does have a key."

"But he also has cla.s.s this morning. The black and gray candles banish negativity, as does everything I've brought. I chose votives for fire safety and put the black on the floor in corners, not too close to the walls. We'll bless one room at a time and use the same candles in each. Between corners, place one gray candle with a selenite stone, and sprinkle rosemary and pine needles on the floor around them."

She touched my hand. "Okay so far? Not spooked?"

"I'm not," I said, surprised.

"Good. Now, it's important to imagine the negative energy swirling up and away from us as we work."

"What does negative energy look like? Green slime? Jelly shoes? Polyester?"

"Any shape that works for you. Try picturing a spiral of ugly rising through the rooms here and upstairs, then through the roof to disperse into the air. Make it a color you hate and send it flying."

"Smoky folds of chartreuse polyester. I can do that."

"But can you believe it?"

I didn't know I could buy into a "magical" sweeping away of negativity. I mean, given the building's history, recent and past, it couldn't hurt, yet I wasn't sure I could honestly believe. "I don't want to disappoint you, but it's not easy to believe in something that seems like a fairy tale."

"Then picture your mother as she looks in your dream of us dancing beneath the full moon. Imagine her guiding an ugly chartreuse spiral up and out of your building. She'll get rid of the negative energy for you. She'd fight a dragon for you."

Chakra jumped into my arms, and between her soothing presence and the image of my mother, anything seemed possible. "I trust you, Aunt Fee, and I trust my mother's beliefs and magical gifts. I just don't know if I'm ready to make them mine. But you and my mother can rid my building of negative energy, and I can help."

"Thank you, sweetie. Now, light the candles."

She took out the sea salt. "Normally," she said, "I'd use salt water, but I didn't want to stain your newly-finished wood floors, so last night I sprinkled water into the salt and let it dry on a cookie sheet in my oven, though I'll use it like salt water." At the threshold of the people door, she sprinkled it and raised her head as if in prayer.

Gray G.o.ddess, in your name,

We neutralize and banish the negative

From this place where death came.

Every inch, pediment to peak,

Negativity depart and nevermore seek.

With Chakra in my arms, both of us calm, I took it all in while I saw my mother whisking negativity up and away from here with the same love she gave to everything.

Aunt Fiona repeated the door blessing-negativity leave but never enter-at the huge unsealed side doors. I still owned two hea.r.s.es that would need to be wheeled out, after all, so I needed a set of usable barn doors, which also might work for a large display or s.h.i.+pment.

Aunt Fiona neutralized dressing rooms, bathroom, stairs, and the top floor, with door blessings at windows.

The longer she worked her magic, the friskier Chakra became, bouncing off of us, howling as if she were chanting her own call for shelter from harm. And through it, I thought I heard my mother laugh, faint but true.

When Chakra jumped back in my arms, I felt calmer, less skeptical, more hopeful about my spiritual beliefs and the possibility of aligning them with nature. An earth-based belief system made sudden sense. Time to open my mind about my heritage.

After the blessing, Aunt Fee lit two protective smudge sticks-bound, dried white sage leaves-one for each of us, which we held as we circled each room, up and down, the pungent, not unpleasant scent following us, banis.h.i.+ng negativity as we went. Aunt Fiona chanted: Purify this place with peace and grace.

Every floor, room, nook, and stair,