If I could actually see Win, I’d bet five bucks he was rolling his eyes at me right now. “Fine, fine. You’re the boss. Just remember, the spirits respond well to me and my hair swishing.”
I made a face at the air. “When I was a witch, I never had to swish my hair to get the spirits to communicate with me. They just did. No bribes, no flirting, no cash exchanged hands.”
“She speaks the truth, Winterbutt,” Belfry agreed, tucking back down into the green leaf. “Though, cash would have been nice.”
Win scoffed in that way he had when he wanted me to hear he was disgusted. “That’s because you’re a woman, Stevie. The game of pick up is not a two way street. It’s a proven fact that women are far more successful at picking up men than the other way around.”
“I bet that fact checker was a man. A man who didn’t want to admit we just have better game. And you basically just admitted you’re trying to pick up Kitty.” I pointed to the door of the room separating us from what we’d privately dubbed Séance Command Central, and said, “Now go. We need to finish up because I have a lunch date with Forrest.”
“Oh, then by all means,” Win drawled with his uppity British lilt. “We shouldn’t waste a second longer. I wouldn’t want you to miss a ham on rye on my account.”
Forrest Sherwood was our next-door neighbor here at the shop. He owned Strange Brew, the coffee café to the right of us. He was also an old high school acquaintance who’d taken an interest in me since I’d moved back to my hometown, something Win didn’t seem to care for much.
He was always picking at Forrest, who, of course, is thoroughly unaware of Win’s existence. Win’s dislike of Forrest leaves me scratching my head sometimes. Forrest’s a nice guy, who works hard, makes amazing coffee and has the cutest grandfather ever named Chester.
But I didn’t have time to address Win’s sarcastic jabs at Forrest today. Today was all about finding our feet out here in the business world.
Madam Zoltar’s had been reopened just a week, and we were finally seeing some foot traffic as the people in town, and tourist’s alike, curiosity got the better of them. Everyone wanted to know if the formerly accused murderer Stevie Cartwright really could communicate with the dead.
I won’t get into the murder accusation. Suffice it to say, even though I was utterly innocent and totally exonerated, the fact that my fellow Ebenezer’s had all but tarred and feathered me during the time of the investigation into Madam Zoltar’s death still stung. So maybe I still feel a little grudgy despite how kind the townspeople have been since my good name was cleared.
After checking on Belfry to find him fast asleep, I pushed open the door of what was once Madam Zoltar’s small apartment, now our storage/coffee room and wiggled my finger over my shoulder at him. Pointing to Edward, our grieving boyfriend who was waiting for me to help him find Kitty’s will, I said, “Let’s do this, Spy Guy.”
“Is everything all right?” Edward asked, his sweet face lined in worry as I reentered Séance Command Central.
I patted him on the hand to reassure him, before taking a seat at my brand new reading table. “Everything’s fine. Sometimes I just get so overwhelmed by the spirits and their shenanigans, I need a moment to gather myself and refocus.”
That’s not a lie either. Win could make the man above need a moment, so someone like little ol’ me didn’t stand a chance.
I took in a deep breath and looked Edward square in his eye. “Now, where were we?”
Edward reached his forefinger up under his round, thick black-rimmed glasses and wiped a tear from his eye. “You said my Kitty was here—right here in the room with us.”
“Yes. She absolutely is.” I closed my eyes again and focused my attention on asking the appropriate questions for Win to relay. “Kitty? Edward’s here. He wants you to know he misses you very much and he has a question for you. Can you help?”
“Kitty says to tell Edward she’s busy,” Win supplied.
I stirred in my chair and cleared my throat, our mutually agreed upon signal for quit screwin’ around.
“So, Kitty, like I said, Edward has a question for you. He’d like to know where you left your will. It’s not in the place you said it would be, and your ex-boyfriend Marlon is threatening to take poor Snape away from your beloved Edward. Where did you put your will, Kitty?”
“She says she’s still busy.”
I clenched my teeth and muttered under my breath, “Well what is she doing? Her nails?”