Spells and Scones by Bailey Cates Page B

And she was out the door.
    *   *   *
    As I turned onto Abercorn Street, I glanced over at Margie. She sat in the passenger seat of my Volkswagen and stared straight ahead without blinking.
    That morning I’d placed a tiny bouquet of basil and lavender in the Bug’s narrow bud vase. It was a combination I often used because of the two herbs’ many magical associations. Basil was a standard for protection, but tonight I was glad it also dispelled confusion and calmed fear. Margie and I could both use some of that. Lavender, which grew here and there throughout mygardens at home, also afforded protection, as well as healing and peace. Steering around Lafayette Square, I casually reached out and adjusted the herbs in the vase, squeezing them enough with my fingertips to release their combined aroma into the air.
    â€œDo you want to let Redding know we’re on our way?” I asked.
    â€œI called him when I was waiting for you.”
    She looked down at the books in her lap. Dr. Dana’s face was on the cover of both of them, her retro look the same on both volumes. I wondered whether the rather outdated advice she’d provided stemmed from a fifties sensibility as well.
    â€œYou don’t think she did it, do you?” Margie asked out of the blue.
    â€œI assume you mean Angie Kissel? I have no idea.”
    Mungo made a noise in the backseat. I ignored him.
    She turned in her seat. “I saw you talking with her. It seemed pretty intense.”
    Not for the first time I fervently wished my discussion with the former witch hadn’t been so public. Everyone seemed to think we were buddy-buddy now.
    â€œYou’re going to try to prove she’s innocent.” Margie couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice.
    â€œNow, why would you think that?” I asked.
    Movement in the rearview mirror drew my attention. Mungo had apparently decided not to stay in my tote bag as usual. Instead, he leaned on the back of my seat with his front paws and bored a hole in the back of my head with his eyes.
    â€œMungo, will you please sit down back there?”
    He blew hot breath in my ear but did as I asked.
    Margie said, “Oh, you don’t talk about it much, at leastnot to me, but I know you’ve been involved in murder cases before. I’ve seen that Detective Quinn at your house a bunch of times. And then there was all that business about voodoo and Mother Eulora a few months ago.”
    â€œThey don’t even know for sure that Dr. Dana was murdered,” I hedged.
    She made a rude noise. “Your own boyfriend said it was a crime scene.”
    â€œ
Possible
crime scene.”
    â€œWhatever. She was too young for it to be a heart attack or something like that. And she was a health nut, too. Talked about it all the time on the radio.”
    â€œTalking isn’t the same as walking.” I turned toward our neighborhood in Midtown, already thinking about a plate of pasta and a salad.
    From the corner of my eye, I saw Margie roll her eyes.
    â€œOkay, it was probably murder,” I said. “More than probably, in fact. Poison. And Ms. Kissel definitely had a problem with Dr. Dana.”
    â€œI’ll say,” Margie muttered.
    Yet Angie’s dislike of the psychologist didn’t necessarily translate to a murder motive. “That other gentleman who was there tonight didn’t like her, either,” I said. “He confronted Dr. Dana in front of everyone, too.”
    â€œHe left and didn’t come back, though.”
    â€œMaybe. But we can’t know that for sure. And he’s not the only one. That back door to the alley was open. Anyone could have come in that way.”
    In fact, Nate and Phoebe had gone out to move Dr. Dana’s car closer. Together. Could they have conspired to kill her? From what I’d seen, Phoebe didn’t much care for her brother-in-law. Besides, if one of them had dosed the water bottle,