Page 51 of Bright Dark Curses

A new spark came into her eyes as she leaned her elbows on the counter. “What do you have in mind?”

I didn’t have an opportunity to tell her because Norman Moore chose that moment to come inside.

“Good morning,” he said brightly.

Mei smiled and took her empty containers. “We’ll talk later?”

“Later,” I agreed.

Norman rubbed his gloved hands as he studied the blackboard menu. “Oh, how lovely. I’d like the day’s special and a muffin to go.”

“Coming up,” I said, turning to prepare the ginger tea.

“I love the atmosphere,” he said approvingly. “So cozy.”

“Thank you.” I studied his profile covertly. Nothing in his expression or posture screamed evil. Nothing felt evil about him. But how could anyone not sense the horrors emanating out of the pieces in his gallery?

He caught my stare and his smile grew. A friendly smile in a friendly face with warm, friendly eyes.

Very suspicious.

Grandma would not have approved of my unwillingness to give him the benefit of the doubt, but Grandma had probably not been stabbed as many times in the back as I had.

That I knew of.

But what if she had? What if she had met disappointment and betrayal but had risen over the defeats to still see the goodness in the world?

“Let experiences guide you, not shape you,” I murmured, handing Norman the tea and the muffin.

“What was that, dear?”

“Just talking to myself.” Grandma was right. I needed to hope for the best.

Besides, it’d be really awkward if I sprayed moon water on him and tried to figure out if he was hiding magic.

But could I suggest he visit the Crawler? Maybe Mark would do me a solid and tell me if their paranormal-type detecting ward lit up under Norman Moore.

“How are you enjoying Olmeda so far?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s such a lovely, lovely place,” he said enthusiastically. “I’m so glad I chose to open the gallery here.”

“Were there other candidates?”

“Yes! But my family is originally from here, you see, so when my agent told me about the Corner Rose being up for sale, it was like fate had come knocking on my door.”

The warmth in his words made me smile. “I do believe in fate. So your parents grew up here, then moved away?”

“My great grandparents. They kept a photo of their old house back home. It broke them to leave, but my great grandfather had a job offer he couldn’t resist.”

Considering it was Olmeda, Norman was lucky his great grandparents had moved because of a job offer and not because of horrible murder. Maybe that’s why he was impervious to the evil auras in his gallery—Olmeda was in his blood and with it came the ability to ignore the many horrors committed here.

Or maybe he was evil incarnate playing a part.

The moment he left, I rushed to the backyard with a stool and stood on it to peek over the fence and overgrown ivy into the Corner Rose’s own backyard. Someone had dealt with the weeds and the old, dead plants. There was a shiny new flagstone floor now with round, empty spaces delineated by metal rings. For displaying statues, maybe?

Nothing appeared out of sorts. No evil witch’s garden was being planted.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I got off the stool.

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