Page 23 of Killing Time

A small trickle of cold moved down Seth’s back, even as he told himself not to be a coward. So far, it looked as though the combination of Devynn’s magic and the power of the amulet was hiding them from the Wilcoxes, or surely they would have been confronted by now.

“I think we should take a walk downtown,” she suggested. “Probably a lot of the shops will be closed because it’s Sunday afternoon, but we might still be able to see if any of the buildings there have the Wilcox name on them, or contain businesses that are connected to the Wilcox clan.”

On the surface, that sounded like a good idea, but….

“How will you even know whether a business is owned by the Wilcoxes?”

Her expression seemed far too confident, given the situation. “Because I know the biggest one — Northern Lumber Holdings — still belonged to the family until sometime in the 1950s. I guess after that point, some massive multinational corporation made them an offer they couldn’t refuse, and they sold it. But it would still be a Wilcox company in 1947.”

Seth realized he needed to remember that Devynn was half Wilcox and therefore had access to a veritable treasure trove of knowledge about the clan. Sure, she probably didn’t know everything, but even being able to see one of their businesses downtown and take note of its location and size would be worth something.

“All right,” he said as he rose from the bed. “Let’s go exploring.”

He had to admit that it was much more pleasant to walk in downtown Flagstaff in 1947 than it had been in 1884, thanks to the paved sidewalks and streets. No scent of horse manure hanging in the crisp air, either, which was another definite improvement.

As they walked, he took note of the various restaurants and shops they passed, thinking it would be good to return to those shops once they’d opened…and to have a place to take Devynn for dinner that was something other than the restaurant on the ground floor of the Weatherford. Not that it didn’t look as though that would be a pleasant place to dine, but still, he couldn’t help but remember how many times they’d been forced to eat at the restaurant of the Hotel San Francisco because they just hadn’t had too many options in 1880s Flagstaff.

“There it is,” Devynn murmured to him, inclining her head toward a handsome brick building across San Francisco Street. “Northern Lumber Holdings.”

The place was shuttered and dark, as they’d expected it to be on a weekend afternoon. Still, it looked impressive enough, with the ornamental stone moldings that surrounded the front door and the cornices adorning the roofline of the structure.

“Looks impressive,” he replied in a similar undertone, and she shrugged.

“My ancestors made a lot of money,” she said. “Actually, they still do, although now it’s all in real estate and trust funds and the stock market. My cousin Lucas’s gift is luck, so he handles the investments and basically makes a pile for all of us.”

She sounded so blithe and relaxed when she spoke about money, as if it had never been a real concern for her or anyoneelse in her clan. To be honest, the McAllisters had a similar setup, if on a much smaller scale.

Still, he couldn’t help being curious as to exactly how much money she was talking about.

A glance around told him no one was nearby, no huge surprise when only one or two shops were even open on this block.

“So…does your clan have stipends like the McAllisters do?”

She smiled. “Are you trying to find out how much money I have, Seth?”

The dancing light in her eyes told him she was teasing. Still, he answered her seriously.

“I would never ask a lady such a thing. It’s impolite to talk about money.”

Devynn laughed outright then, and reached over to give his arm a squeeze.

“It’s okay. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything — well, at least not to another witch or warlock. The amount’s bumped up over the years, but right now, we’re sitting at a little over ten thousand for our monthly allotment.”

For a second or two, Seth could only stare back at her.

Surely she didn’t mean that she got more than ten thousand dollars every month? What on earth did she do with all that money?

Before he could say anything, she continued, now looking more amused than ever.

“You have to remember that things cost a whole lot more when I come from. All the same, it is a lot of money, more than a good percentage of the population earns. Most of us still work, though, just because it would look strange to have a bunch of Wilcoxes living in expensive houses and driving fancy cars with no real visible means of support.”

He thought of theprimuswho had preceded Connor, the man who now ran the Wilcox clan, and how he’d apparently been a college professor. Did universities really pay that much?

Apparently, it had been enough to keep up the façade.

“What does Connor Wilcox do?” he asked abruptly, and Devynn smiled again.

“He’s a painter — a really good one. He has regular shows in Flagstaff and Sedona and even down in Scottsdale and Tucson, so he’s not exactly your garden-variety starving artist. And Angela, his wife, designs jewelry that’s sold in a lot of high-end boutiques. From the outside looking in, their lifestyle probably doesn’t appear too questionable to people, especially when you factor in how Connor inherited everything when Damon passed away…and how Angela inherited the big house on Paradise Lane from her great-aunt Ruby.”

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