Free Gone With the Witch by Heather Blake Page B

by the FDA because of salmonella risks.” Sunbeams set Harper’s face aglow as she talked. “But that doesn’t stop people from selling them.”
    I was again impressed with Harper’s steel-trap mind. Tiny turtles. Who knew?
    â€œDid Natasha have any enemies?” Mimi asked, turning her full attention on me.
    It was times like these that I had to remind myself that Mimi was just thirteen years old. Barely a teenager. Sometimes she seemed much older and wiser than her years.
    At her question, I immediately thought of Vivienne Lucas.
    If I had just learned my husband had been carrying on with Natasha, I’d be mad enough to kill her. And him. But the timing was off. Glinda had confirmed to me that she told Vivienne of what we had seen in the hallway between Baz and Natasha only moments before the woman collapsed. I found it highly unlikely that Vivienne had been carrying around cyanide with her for just-in-case scenarios.
    No. If Natasha had been poisoned, someone had planned it. Meticulously.
    But who?
    And why?
    Just thinking about someone gliding around the showroom floor with poison in their pocket gave me the willies. It was so . . . menacing.
    Evil.
    â€œI’m not sure,” I finally said.
    Mimi shoved a spiral of hair over her shoulder, but the curl immediately sprang loose again. “Does she have family here?”
    â€œNot that I know of,” I said, pressing a throw pillow against my aching stomach. “But I didn’t know her very well at all.”
    â€œMe neither,” Harper chimed in. “Mrs. P and Pepe might know more about her.”
    â€œWe have no business asking them about her,” I said.
    Mrs. P, whose real name was Eugenia Pennywhistle,and Pepe were two of my favorites in the villages. It didn’t matter a bit that they were mouse familiars—I counted them as dear friends. They were the closest the village had to town historians, which Harper knew perfectly well.
    â€œPlease?” she begged, grinning like a kid at Christmas.
    She was seriously in the wrong line of work. I knew she loved the bookshop, but she ate, slept, breathed criminal justice and all its offshoots, especially forensics.
    As much as I wanted to know what had happened to Natasha, too, I dashed Harper’s hopes.
    â€œNo. Natasha was a mortal, so we have no business snooping around. Let Nick handle it.”
    If she had been a witch, as a Craft investigator I would have been obligated to check her background. It was my job to look into any criminal activities that might involve our heritage. Elder’s orders. But as a mortal, I had no jurisdiction.
    â€œParty pooper,” Harper said. Then after another moment, she nodded to a fluffy black lump glued to my left side and added, “What are you going to do with her?”
    Her.
    I looked down.
    Titania stared up at me, her amber eyes unblinking.
    Earlier, I’d really had no other option than to take her home with me. The Wisp had been evacuated, and I couldn’t very well leave her there.
    Without her headdress and heavy jeweled collar, both of which I had removed the moment we walked through the back door, she was cuddlier than ever. I scratched her head. “I don’t know. Wait until someone claims her, I guess. A distant relative, maybe. A neighbor?”
    â€œI think she claimed you,” Harper pointed out matter-of-factly.
    â€œShe does seem to like you,” Mimi agreed.
    It did, in fact, seem that way. Titania hadn’t left my side since we left the Wisp.
    If she was going to stay here for a bit, I’d need to get some supplies as soon as possible. Food, a new (lightweight) collar, a kitty litter box. The basic necessities, since I didn’t think Tilda would take too kindly to sharing. I planned a visit to the Furry Toadstool as soon as it opened tomorrow morning to pick up what I needed.
    I was making a mental shopping list when the sound of a rooster crowing echoed