Free Spin a Wicked Web by Cricket McRae Page B

terms."
    Wow. "Really?"
    "Really."
    "That seems kind of mean," I said.
    He grinned. "I can call her back and tell her to stay. We could
all go out for dinner, if you'd like."
     
    "Nah. That's okay."
    "Thought you might say that," he said.
    "Listen," I said. "I'm on my way to talk to Ariel's roommate
about where to send her CRAG art. Do you know about Ariel's
brother?"
    He nodded. "His address was in her things."
    Of course. I knew he and Robin would've already gone to Ariel's apartment, but I felt a little deflated anyway.
    "His last name isn't Skylark?"
    "Nope. Kaminski."
    "Ruth said Ariel changed her name," I said.
    "Apparently so."
    " why?
    He lifted a shoulder. "She liked the sound of Skylark better
than Kaminski."
    "Did you learn anything else interesting?" I asked, a note of
frustration creeping in.
    "From the roommate? Not much." He looked regretful. "Robin,
well..."
    Ah.
    "Come over for dinner tonight," I said. "We're having lamb."
    His eyes widened. "Grilled?"
    "Of course."
    "Count me in."
    "See you then." I rolled up my window.
    He placed his right hand against it, the pattern of his palm
pressed against the glass. With one finger, I traced his love line. My
eyes lifted and met his. I bit my lip.
    We both smiled.

     
TEN

    ARIEL HAD LIVED IN an apartment on the second floor of a lone
twelve-plex on the corner of Maple and Pine. Someone had purchased and rehabbed the old building and painted it a sumptuous
apricot with green and maroon trim. Planter boxes lining the tiny
balcony railings dripped purple verbena, blood-red geraniums
and lobelia in deep rich shades of sapphire. A rack in front supported a row of bikes. To the right, an expanse of asphalt hosted a
series of compact and economy cars, most of them sporting parking stickers from the neighboring college. These were primarily
digs for students, and nice digs at that.
    I climbed the stairs, my sandals scuffing on the wooden steps,
and rapped on the metal door with my knuckles. Rustling sounds
came from inside, and then slowly the door opened.
    "Yes?" A tall woman in her early twenties grinned down at me.
Her hair was blue black, the kind that has to come out of a bottle,
and it fell unfettered to a pair of impressive-and unharnessedbreasts. She was so tall I found myself staring straight at them. My face grew hot as I realized what I was doing, and I craned my neck
up to look into a wide pale face with amused green eyes.
     
    "Hi," I said. "I'm Sophie Mae Reynolds. I'm a member of the
artist's co-op Ariel belonged to."
    The smile faded. "Oh"
    "She lived here, didn't she?"
    The woman nodded.
    "I'm sorry. You must be pretty shaken up by what happened."
    "Yeah. I mean, well ... yeah." She stepped back and held the
door open. "I'm sorry. Please, come in."
    I stepped into an herbal oasis. There were potted plants everywhere, at least fifty of them, clustered around every window, tucked
into corners and onto bookshelves under grow lights, lining the
kitchen counters. Every one of them had some kind of culinary or
medical application, and sometimes both. There were lavender and
rosemary, sage, oregano, and a variety of thymes. Mints were interspersed with feverfew, calendula, scented geraniums, and chamomile.
    "Wow," I said. "This is amazing. Is that borage?"
    She nodded, obviously pleased. "I grew it from seed. Would
you like something to drink? I have some iced tea."
    "That would be great, thanks."
    I wandered around the little apartment in wonder. All the plants
were incredibly healthy, not a yellow leaf nor leggy one among them,
despite being crammed into the tiny living space.
    She returned and handed me a sea-green concoction that smelled
of mint. "I'm studying horticulture."
    "Well, you've got the green thumb for it." I sipped from the tall
glass, condensation already forming along its sides. Mint and a myriad of other herbal infusions. "This tea is lovely, um ... I'm
afraid I don't know your name. We only knew that