Page 73 of Fresh Old Bounties

“Ha-ha. If you remember anything, you’ll let me know?”

“Of course. Mind if we continue this later? Dan is pointing at his watch and giving me dirty looks.”

I laughed. “Sure thing, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She ended the call, and I considered the two names on the screen. Admittedly, not much to go on, but bigger cases had been solved with less information.

Or so true-crime TV had led me to believe.

My next step consisted of approaching the investigation into Grandma’s past from the magical side, so I spent a few minutes going through the Council’s public directory until I found a phone number for Grandma’s local Council branch.

As was the case for Olmeda, Grandma’s town didn’t have its own Council branch but was under the oversight of a bigger city.

The automated system picked up right away, and I made my way through its labyrinthic pathways until I reached a real person. Different Council branches might pride themselves on their local flavor, but at their bureaucratic center, they were all the same nightmare.

I greeted the woman on the other side of the call, gave her my name, and explained my business. “I’m looking for information about a local witch by the name of Hazel Oakes. She died eighteen years ago.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Avery, but we can’t divulge our members’ information.”

Which reminded me I still had to look into Bagley’s accounts. Between spying, robberies, and tossing hotel rooms, it had slipped my mind. “I understand, but I’m her granddaughter.”

At least this part I wouldn’t have to fake.

“I’m sorry. We can’t give any kind of information over the phone. If you could come in person, perhaps we could arrange something.”

“That’s not possible at the moment. Isn’t there anything I could access online? I’m mostly interested in any intern she might’ve had, or other local witches she might’ve entered a coven with.”

“As I said, that’s highly private information.”

“Would it help that I was registered at your branch in the past?” Until the move to Olmeda, that’s where I’d maintained my Council membership. “Hope Avery, registered by Hazel Oakes at birth.”

“Hold, please.”

Tinkling music filled the call. Very Zen. Very on brand. I eyed the merchandise bookshelf in the corner. Maybe I should add some music. Did anyone buy music CDs anymore?

The soothing music stopped abruptly, and the witch returned to the call.

“Ah, yes, I see your membership file, Ms. Avery. I still need to corroborate your identity, though. Could you send a photograph of yourself holding your Council ID clearly visible?”

She rattled an email address. I took a selfie with my ID, then emailed it to her. A few minutes later, she called me back.

“Everything seems in order, Ms. Avery. What files would you like to access? We haven’t gone fully digital yet, so I might be unable to send some things, you understand. For those, you’ll have to come in person.”

“I understand.” I gave her a list of requests—known friends, partners, interns, any warnings on her file—and my thanks, then hung up.

What next?

My mind went blank.

Very blank.

Was this all I could really do to clear Grandma’s name? A call to Mom and a request for old records?

But what else could I do? The bounty hunters would have no idea about who had hired Ian’s ex-partner, since it had been off the books. I had no access to face-recognition software or the time to run around showing Mystery Man’s face to passersby in case anyone recognized him, and Ian was in charge of searching the robber’s phone.

An unwelcome thought slithered into my head.

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