I glanced at my watch. I had just enough time to check in with the gang at Aunt Cora’s Closet, and then head over to the estate sale. Fingers crossed, one of the dresses would be perfect. That way I’d be all set—just in case I could find a way to spring my man from jail in time for the handfasting.
I always love coming into my shop, to be greeted by the hustle and bustle of business and by the scents of fresh laundry and the rosemary and lavender sachets I hung on the rods. But on a day like today that sensation was multiplied many times over. The shop was crowded, but not with customers. Selena was there, along with Bronwyn and her boyfriend, Duke; Conrad and his friend Shalimar; Maya and her cousins Kareem and Richard.
“Lily!” Bronwyn called out, as she hurried over and gave me a big hug. “I’m so glad to see you safe. What in the world is going on?”
“I, uh . . . ran into an old acquaintance,” I said, though my attention was diverted by Oscar. Instead of greeting me as he usually did, he was lying on his silk pillow and making strange sounds.
“What’s wrong with Oscar?” I asked.
“He’s been doing that for a while. I’m starting to get worried about our little guy,” said Maya. “It sounds sort of like that hollow cough that dogs get.”
A loud, indignant snort, emanating from the direction of the purple silk pillow, expressed Oscar’s displeasure at being compared to a dog. Then the sounds began again.
It didn’t sound like kennel cough to me, though. It sounded like he was giggling—in a porcine sort of way. What was up with him?
Unless . . . it wasn’t Oscar? What if Oscar had a look-alike, too? I could only imagine the havoc it could wreak. Was a look-alike spirit capable of copying any individual it chose, or did every person—and gobgoyle—have his or her own unique counterpart?
“Sailor’s lawyer called back,” Maya said.
Dang, I’d hoped to speak with him.
“He left a message,” Maya continued, handing me a note saying there was an arraignment scheduled for tomorrow morning at ten.
I tried Petulengro’s number, but got voice mail again. I made a face, then saw Maya was watching me.
“I know, I know,” I said as I hung up. “I really need to get a cell phone.”
“I’m just saying . . . you run around town a lot, so it’s hard for folks to get in touch.” Maya gestured with her head and I followed her into the back room for privacy. We spoke in hushed tones. “Lily, I don’t understand. You’re saying there really is a Sailor look-alike walking the streets of San Francisco?”
“I’m afraid so,” I said. “I just . . . I’m not sure how to explain it to everyone.”
Maya nodded slowly. “How about an evil twin?”
I smiled. “Sounds like the plot of a soap opera.”
“I grew up watching a lot of ‘stories’ with my mom while she sewed. I know it sounds far-fetched, but how else are we going to warn folks that someone who looks just like Sailor isn’t to be trusted?”
“Good question. So, you’re okay with all this?”
“Okay with it? Not at all. But I saw him in the Lucky Moon. It was Sailor, but . . . not Sailor. It makes no sense, but I assume from the way you’re acting and the fact that Sailor’s been arrested that there’s something supernatural going on.”
When first we met, Maya didn’t believe in magic. She’d been exposed to a lot in the last year, and had been on a steep learning curve. I thought about Patience’s question, whether Maya might have abilities of her own, but I truly didn’t think so. She was simply highly intelligent, and had come to understand there was no way to explain the unexplainable . . . other than magic.
“I really don’t want—or need—to know the details,” Maya continued. “And I don’t want to freak everyone out, but I do want them to be safe.”
I nodded. “I agree with you there. Okay, let’s go with . . . creepy look-alike cousin.”
Maya grinned. “Yes, that’s so much easier to believe than an identical twin. Whatever you say, boss.”
I took another moment to call Selena’s grandmother, briefly explained what had happened, and asked her to be particularly wary of anyone who looked like Sailor, or any strangers that might come into her and Selena’s lives in the near future.
Then I joined the group in the shop and tried to explain why they should take care around anyone looking a lot like Sailor.
“I don’t think it will be a problem, but I want everyone to take precautions.”
“A couple of officers stopped by about ten minutes ago,” said Bronwyn. “They said they’ll cruise by occasionally, keep an eye on the place.”
“That’s good. But they won’t be here twenty-four/seven, so let’s stay on guard, all right? No working alone. I’d rather close the store altogether than have someone here by themselves. Understood?”
Bronwyn and Maya nodded. Conrad shook his head, blew out a long breath, and said, “Duuuuude.”
“Oh, hey, Conrad, did you overhear the conversation I had outside the other day with Sailor and a stranger? The time Carlos arrived and joined us?”
“The fight?”
“It wasn’t a fight, exactly.”
“Sounded like a fight.”
“I’m going to take that as a yes. You didn’t happen to mention it to anyone, did you?”
“No, nobody.”
I hadn’t thought so.
“Except . . . Let me think. . . . I think Wind Spirit came by right after. It’s possible I mentioned it to her, just, like, in passing.”
“Wind Spirit. You’re sure?”
“Yeah, dude. She used to be named Amy, and Wind Spirit doesn’t seem to fit her, in my view, but whatever she wants—am I right? Also, that doughnut dude was there.”
“What doughnut dude?”
“Not doughnuts . . .” He