Part 2 (1/2)

I wondered-a bit late, perhaps-about the wisdom of buying a haunted building. I'd acquired it in my usual, perverse way, by acting first and thinking later. Dante, I'd considered a bonus after the fact.

That was then. This is now.

An owl hooted, and Chakra came to sit on my foot.

I picked her up and we both calmed. I wondered if our ”familiar” attachment had to do with any untapped, other-worldly talents I might own.

I came by my ability to specter-speak naturally, only one of the arcane endowments from my late mother-a broom-carrying witch, as it turns out.

That black cat out of the bag-as far as my father is concerned, as in: he can't know that I know-I'd learned recently from Mom's best friend and soul-mate witch, Aunt Fiona. She hadn't exactly mothered us over the years, unless you counted my craft, needlework, and early sewing lessons, but she'd always been there for us.

So far, I haven't shown any signs of spell casting or moon dancing. Except in my recurring dream of being held in my mother's arms while we danced with Aunt Fiona under a full moon, a dream I usually have before a significant life change. But the jury's still out on whatever witchcraft or magic I might harbor.

What kind of witch, I ask you, owns a yellow cat?

For fun, I'd recently haunted the occult section of a bookstore, thinking a spell for kissing toads into studs could be fun. I mean, if somebody had to do it, I was up for the job. Other than ghost gab and a weird clairvoyance around certain vintage clothing items-an apt.i.tude I discovered when my sister Sherry was accused of murder-I don't know what other metaphysical skills I might possess. But I'm game to find out.

Four.

Design can have such a positive impact on the way people live and on their relations.h.i.+ps and moods.

-GENEVIEVE GORDER I took Chakra to make use of the sand near my driveway before we checked out the boxes by the front door. They were stuffed with old clothes and notes from Mystick Falls neighbors, friends who didn't want me to fail and must have known I was coming home today. Gossip travels the fast lane in Mystick Falls.

The brunt of the donations might best be used for dust rags, which would hurt their feelings, though I did spot the occasional treasure.

I was up to my elbows in old clothes when Eve, my best friend, a platinum blonde two weeks ago but a raven-haired vixen today, pulled up in her Mini Cooper convertible, top down.

As she got out, her h.e.l.ls Angels jacket fell to the ground. She picked it up and tossed it in her backseat.

”You're early, Cutler! Don't deny it,” Eve said with a one-fingered scold.

I went to meet her. ”I know. I've already been inside.”

”You know that I like to be first on the scene,” she griped. ”You said to meet you at nine, and it's only eight thirty.”

”Don't get your knickers in a knot, Meyers. I was glad to have some alone time to wallow.”

She gave the building a dubious glance. ”In misery?”

”In possibilities, brat. It's a showpiece, and you know it.”

She shrugged, toying with me, and looking good in the boot-cut black jeans I'd designed and st.i.tched for her. She wore them with a delicate, black silk baby-doll cami and clunky Doc Martens.

The walking ”fas.h.i.+on don't” with the huge heart, who'd watched my back and saved my b.u.t.t more times than I cared to remember, handed me a caramel latte and an Allie's maple frosted doughnut.

”Yum. Thanks. You've been to Rhode Island?”

”New England educators' meeting.”

I opened the cup's sippy slot, recaffeinated, munched on the primo treat, and sighed in appreciation, while Chakra curled around our legs.

Eve drank her coffee black, the way she wore her clothes, and she did both with gusto.

”Your hair looks great,” I said. ”I like the cut, but now it's the same color as your clothes.”

”It's a confirmed fact that sports teams who wear black are more intimidating, like warriors prepared for battle.”

”So that's why you wear bold and black, so people will take you seriously and appreciate your brain?”

”Well,” she said, looking me up and down, ”when a man starts by looking at your spikes and works his gaze up your bare legs, it's not your brain he's thinking about.”

Our arguments about her single color apparel choice of black could go either way, but I conceded defeat. ”Eve one, Madeira zero.”

She bowed regally. ”You're hardly a zero, my friend,” she said, ”but I hope whatever's in your surprise storage room is worth the trip.”

”It must be. Somebody just tried to break into it, but Chakra and I scared him away.”

Eve stepped closer, horror etching her features.

Uh-oh, I thought. I should have kept my mouth shut. ”Meyers, swear you won't tell. I don't need a lecture from the men in my life.”

”Somebody broke in? While you were here? Who? Why? Are you all right?”

”I didn't see who, and how the Hermes would I know why? I'm fine. Don't I look fine?”

”Did you call the police?”

”What do you think?”

”Oh,” Eve said, ”not calling is why you expect a lecture, and I wouldn't blame the men in your life. You really should have dialed 911.”

”I do not need an investigation further delaying my opening.”

”It's not the investigation, it's the investigator you don't want to deal with,” she said with a smug expression, knowing me too well.

”Exactly. Better I should stay away from the Wiener.”

”I'm sure he feels the same about you, with good reason.”

I crushed my napkin. ”Thanks.”

”Who else are we waiting for?”

I checked my watch. ”My dad and Aunt Fiona should be along in a bit.”