I scrambled to absorb Kostya’s explanation. “Wait, what’s this about matchmaking?”
Beryl butted in with, “Did Serena know that about Mom? Did either of you know? Because this is the first I’m hearing about it.”
“Serena was absolutely aware,” Kostya said. “The Board of Magical Governance was given access to her personal laptop and cell phone after her death. She had used a voice-recording app to make notes about the work she did for Moira. The old files were still on her phone.
“She’d tried to finish your mother’s pending contracts, though it would appear her ability or interest in helping didn’t last long. Serena’s primary magic was Unbinding, a fitting skill for a divorce lawyer. Moira’s primary magic was Binding. From what I’ve been able to piece together, Serena’s role in the business while your mother was alive was to create amicable contracts of dissolution between clients who felt their romantic arrangements had run their course.”
Kostya leaned in. “After Moira died, Serena tried to replicate your mother’s matchmaking techniques, even though bringing beings together romantically wasn’t in her skill set.
“She fell behind. Clients waiting for their love match got upset. By the end of her first year in charge, Serena had stopped returning phone calls and shut down the shop’s email account.” He paused to take in the entire room. “The doors to Needles and Sins have been closed for almost six years.”
“Fuck.” I planted my elbows on the table. The champagne was going to my head. I eyed the pizza, slid another slice onto the dainty plate, and contemplated whether to bite into the soft tip or attack the corner of crust. “Beryl, didn’t you think to check on the shop whenever you were in town?”
“Why? Because I’m the responsible one?” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth without smudging her lipstick. “I had no emotional connection to this place when Mom was alive. It’s difficult to imagine I would develop an affinity for it in her absence.”
“But—” I was days away from turning twenty-eight and still able to conjure the itch to pick a fight with my next oldest sister. She stuck out her tongue and looked away.
Alderose took charge. Alderose always took charge. “Mom’s talent for matchmaking doesn’t explain how she died or what you’re doing here.” Like me, her elbows were on the table. Unlike me, she was holding the corners of her pizza slice with her fingertips and toying at the cheese-laden tip with her tongue. Kostya’s gaze was glued to her mouth.
“Stop torturing Demon Boy. He was just about to tell us why we have to stay here and help a whole bunch of sad witches and warlocks find their one true love.” I giggled. One channel of my brain was stuck on the part about contracts and limbo and I could feel myself coming unmoored by the day’s sudden change of direction.
Kostya straightened his spine and smoothed his hands down his thighs. “I’m here at the behest of the Board of Magical Governance. Your uncle, Malvyn Brodeur, has opened an official investigation into your mother’s and Serena’s deaths. We have reason to suspect both women were murdered.”
2
The bite of pizza went soggy in my mouth. Tears stung my eyes. I tore off a paper towel and spat out my food.
“Da-amn.” Beryl’s whisper echoed my sentiment. Her slice ended up half on her plate and half on the table.
“When did the Board come to this conclusion?” Alderose stood, shoved her stool back, and spun away from the table. “And why didn’t Uncle Malvyn say anything to us first?” She patted the sides of her thighs and sighed when her hands came up empty of weapons. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us earlier, Kostya.”
“Rosey, I’m telling you now. Serena died less than a month ago. The only reason I’m here today is because I was just promoted to head the investigative arm that encompasses the Northeast Corridor. Suspicious deaths involving Magicals are flagged for my department. I grabbed the assignment seconds after it arrived.”
“Can you tell us what was suspicious about Serena’s death?”
“Her employers insisted on an autopsy after her required annual physical showed her to be in perfect health.” Kostya looked at his palms. “Serena and your mother died of the same condition—bacterial endocarditis.”
“A heart infection?”
He nodded. “An infection of the heart’s inner membrane.”
“Do they know what caused it?”
“Serena’s autopsy showed traces of psittacosis, an infectious disease transmitted through bird droppings.”
Alderose parked herself at the front door and braced her hands against the jamb. “Mom didn’t have birds, Kostya. She and Dad never even let us have pets.”
“Speaking of Heriberto…” Guilt washed across Kostya’s features. “Your father met me at their apartment two days ago.”
“Dad’s here?”
“He was here. Briefly. Said he knew about Serena’s death. He seemed surprised when I told him about the investigation and promised to consult a friend who might know something.”
My chest constricted. My father made time to see Kostya. Why didn’t he stay in town and make time to see his daughters? “Did he say anything about us?”
Kostya shook his head. Alderose repositioned her stool. Her leather pants creaked as she sat. She fumbled for my hand and for Beryl’s, then continued to address Kostya. “We grieved the loss of our mother once. We gave her final rites of passage, we laid her body to rest, we moved on. And now you’re telling us we have to reopen the doors to the past, and—”
“I can handle the investigation on my own, Rosey,” he said, hitting the tabletop with the side of his hand, “but the three of you know things I don’t, same as Heriberto. He—”
“What else did our father say?”
“He filled me in on the role he played in Moira’s business. I knew he ran a, a hair salon—I
