Page 22 of Fresh Old Bounties

Veva sipped the tea while she studied the shelf with all my tarot and occult stuff for sale. “I like your little nook.”

I brimmed with pride. “Thank you. I thought it fit the shop’s theme very well.”

“What do you think about selling some of my tarot sets here on consignment?”

For a moment, I was left speechless. To collaborate with someone as integrated in the paranormal community as Veva was a dream come true. When others saw she trusted me, they’d start trusting me.

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “I’d love to.”

Veva set her tea down. “I was thinking that for Halloween?—”

The back door slammed open, and a couple of seconds later, Dru burst through the bead curtain.

“He’s here,” she hissed, going to peer out of the window closest to the Corner Rose. “They’re showing him the Corner Rose again.”

Veva arched her eyebrows at me.

“Ex-boyfriend,” I whispered.

“Ah.”

All that needed to be said, really.

“About Halloween?” I said tentatively.

Dru muttered something else, plastering her face against a glass pane in an effort to get a better view of the street in front of the Corner Rose.

Veva gave her a pointed look. “Perhaps it’d be better if we talked about this later?”

“Let no others stop your plans, for they won’t stop for you,” I told her sagely. It was part of my morning affirmations list. One of my favorites.

“Well said. But in this case…”

My phone shook in my pocket with an incoming text, and I gave it a fast glance. Ian had answered my question about Bagley’s accountant.

Desmond Crane.

The name nagged a memory into place. Hadn’t that been one of the men Lewis had pointed out during my first PBOA meeting? A wide man on the short side?

The shop’s landline rang stridently, making me jump.

“Excuse me.” I grabbed the receiver and used my most welcoming voice. “The Tea Cauldron.”

“Hope Avery?” an electronic male-sounding voice asked.

“Speaking.”

“Have you decided on a price for the spellbook yet?”

“What? Who is this?” The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. It was obvious who it was, and I doubted they’d tell me their full name and address just because I’d asked.

“An interested party.”

I turned my back to Veva and cupped a hand around my mouth and the receiver. “I’m sorry, I don’t have Bagley’s spellbook. There’s nothing to sell.”

“Who’s Bagley?” the voice asked, a little snippy. “I want Hazel Oakes’s spellbook.”

Hazel Oakes’s… My grandma’s spellbook?

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