Page 107 of Under Daddy's Spell

“Aunt!” she exclaimed.

“Lucy is my mother’s youngest sister,” Jordan explained. “You moved from Shreveport, Auntie, and didn’t tell me?”

“I...uh... It was sudden. The space came open, and I had to jump on it. Being in the French Quarter has always been my dream.”

“How long have you been living the dream?” he asked while moving farther into the store.

Bewildered by this latest coincidence, and because the skulls on the shelves beside her were creeping her out, Tessa kept pace at his side.

“I don’t recall exactly, but it was right when the longtime owner finally moved out. I’d had my eye on this space for a while.”

An evasive answer if Tessa had ever heard one because she knew better. “The longtime owner would have been my father, which means you jumped on it about four years ago.”

Jordan looked from her to Lucinda. “What are you up to? And how did you know about Tessa?”

“I’m not up to anything. And I didn’t know Miss Delacroix until she came to me.”

“A friend of a friend referred me here,” she put in. “I’d never heard of Madame Lucinda before that.”

He grunted. “I see her hand in this. That the woman I’m seeing who has never been involved in the occult before is suddenly immersed in it and then finds her way to my aunt, who’s a supposed expert in it, is too convenient for me to buy as a coincidence.”

“That’s how fate works, Nephew. I didn’t sell her that book, and I certainly didn’t tell her to cast a spell on you. She came to me for help in undoing it after the fact.”

Tessa glanced up at his still-tense face. “It’s true. I sought her out, not the other way around.”

“Mother! Take a look at this...”

All three of them turned to the steps, where first a pair of boots appeared then jean-clad legs. A torso covered in a tunic of sorts, which matched the gothic décor of the store, came next.

Tessa stiffened. The gravelly voice seemed familiar. It couldn’t be the same man. That would be a bigger coincidence than the one Jordan was alluding to.

Then he appeared.

“It is you!” she exclaimed at the same time Jordan uttered, “Victor.”

“You know him?” she asked as they turned to each other in surprise.

“He’s Lucy’s son, which makes him my first cousin. The question is, how do you know him?”

“He’s the one who sold me the spell book for a dollar.”

“Victor, you lying thief!” Lucinda screeched. “You said it was stolen, along with the others. Ashural’s book is worth a small fortune. How could you sell it for one measly dollar?”

Like a deer in headlights, he stood frozen, staring back at them then he wheeled and ran up the stairs from where he came.

“I’m going to kill him,” Lucinda muttered furiously.

None too pleased with him either, Tessa helped dig Victor’s hole a little deeper. “Not to rat out ole Victor, but there were over a dozen first editions in the box, along with the spell book. Short stories by Edgar Allan Poe,To Kill a Mockingbird, and a book of poems by—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Lucinda groaned. “Emily Dickinson.”

“Why is Victor selling off what would be his inheritance? It doesn’t seem like his style, especially for such little reward,” Jordan asked.

“I revised my will recently. I intended to after the move but only recently got around to it. Since he lives with me andtakes care of me”—she used air quotes here—“Victor thinks he’s entitled to everything. But I left my rare book collection to Lucretia, and he’s pissed off about it.”

“Who’s Lucretia?”

“Victor’s sister.”

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