Maris gave her temple a little tap and brought up an image of the tarot guidebook that came with the deck. “The two people are destitute, living in poverty. The woman is in bare feet in the snow, and the man has been injured.” She examined the card again. The couple really did look pitiful. “Behind them is a church, lit up from within and exuding warmth. Found in the upright position it means recovery from financial loss, or recovery from spiritual poverty.” She handed the card to Cookie.
The chef examined it, turning it over once. “Financial loss.” She looked up at Maris. “Could that mean the thefts?”
Maris tilted her head and pursed her lips. “It could be.” She thought for a second. “Or maybe the church has something to do with it. Or the stained glass?”
Cookie sighed. “Right.”
Maris turned back to the rug and, using her foot, unrolled it all the way back to the door. “Next time Mojo has a tarot clue for us, I hope it won’t be so much work.” She checked her watch. “Or time consuming. I thought today would be my catch-up day.”
“You’re not going to the festival?” Cookie asked as they left the room.
Maris shook her head. “Mac and I both had too much to do.”
Cookie paused, card still in hand. “I know we’re full up, but there’s always a way to make a little time for ourselves.”
Maris regarded her. “Oh really. I haven’t seen you in the garden recently.”
Cookie shook the card at her. “That’s exactly right. You haven’t seen me.” She smiled. “But I always make time for it. Even just a little bit of weeding, watering, or fertilizing. I never skip it.”
Maris stared at her. “Really?”
“Really,” the chef confirmed. “It doesn’t have to take long.” She shook the card at her before turning toward the parlor. “Before you do another thing in this house, take some time for yourself.” Although she’d disappeared inside, Maris could still hear her. “I always do.” There was a pause. “Now where is that box?”
24
Rather than bring her watercolors out to enjoy the fine weather and sunshine, Maris decided to simply take a walk. The entire property was larger than it first appeared, because a low wooden railing fenced off most of it. For the safety of visitors and guests, particularly the children, most of the rocky promontory on which the lighthouse sat was off limits. Though scaling the rocks down to the narrow bit of sand could certainly be done, you had to be fit as well as wear the right kind of shoes. Maris contented herself with a stroll along the small white fence, as she looked down on the jagged shore.
Like the larger tide pools north of the bay, on the scenic drive to Cheeseman Village, smaller versions dotted the natural ledges of dark rock below. Even from this distance, Maris could make out a few dots of color among the sand and seaweed, mostly deep oranges and bright blues. As a girl she’d climbed all over the area, watching the little creatures in the pools for hours. She’d then searched the field guides that Glenda kept in the library, which were still there.
“Take them with you,” her aunt had urged. “That’s what they’re for.”
Eventually she’d been able to identify some of the starfish, at least one type of crab, and the sea urchins too.
But as she walked along the fence, hands clasped behind her back, it wasn’t the little ecosystem’s creatures that occupied her mind—it was the thefts. She went over them again in her mind. Now that the album had been restored to its rightful place, it was down to Howard’s crystal ball, Eugene’s credit card machine, Ryan’s weights, Eunice’s phone, postcards from Inklings, and Bear’s honey. Though she hadn’t had the time to systematically question the business owners who weren’t magick folk, the pattern thus far pointed to magic practitioners losing items—sometimes items involved with magic.
“Magic,” she muttered.
That had to be the connection. The items themselves were so random, or at least they appeared to be.
Was there any way to use them together? One was a machine. One was food. One was a solid rock.
“No,” Maris said, shaking her head. It’d be impossible to use them together.
Or perhaps the five of pentacles tied them together. She counted up the items. There were six. So that aspect didn’t jive.
As she turned back to the B&B, she was surprised by how far she’d come. She’d been completely lost in thought. But as she headed back, she had to smile. She felt less harried, less in a hurry, and much more relaxed. She shielded her eyes with her hand out to the sun. It was another gorgeous day on the bay. The only better view would be from the lighthouse.
She gazed up at it, the faceted optics house gleaming in the sunlight.
“Claribel,” she said, and quickened her pace.
Though she might not have time to ask some questions in town today, there was one course of investigation of which she had yet to avail herself.
25
As Maris approached the door to the lighthouse, a warm sea breeze swirled all around her. She held her hair back from her face with one hand, and gripped the edge of the door that was opening with the other. As she moved inside, she let it go and it gently closed behind her.
“Good morning, Old Girl,” she said.
Although the interior of the conical tower was lit by windows as well as the light that poured down from the top, Maris realized for the first time that it was cool inside. Despite the blazing sun outside, the temperature here was more like that of early evening. As she wound her way up the wrought iron, spiral staircase, with its ornamental black balustrades and textured steps, she thought about the temperature and looked out through the first window. Though she was often taken with the views that it afforded, today she noticed the wall in which it
