Grimoires and Where to Find Them Raconteur, Honor (read along books TXT) 📖

“Thank you so much. Here’s my card. If someone comes here looking for any of the names I mentioned, could you call me? I’d like to know.”

“You think someone will?”

“Well, this guy is using this address as an emergency contact, so odds are, someone might.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.”

“Not dangerous, I promise,” I soothed her. “Just be quick to call so I can handle it.”

She held the card firmly in her hand, expression determined. “I will.”

“Thanks for your time.” I turned and left, and only when we were out of the door did I growl. “Figures. I wonder why this address, though? Did he live here, does he know someone here? The apartment he rented was much cheaper than the houses in this neighborhood. He had to use this address for a reason.”

“Because it’s respectable.” Foster waved a hand around us. “If you’ve lived in the city for a while, then you’ll know this part of town as being respectable. People with office jobs live here. I mean, look at the woman we just left. She’s obviously a housewife, with her husband making the living. How many people can afford to do that?”

True enough. Middle class, that was the bare threshold. I was glad to see he was thinking like a detective. Maybe my training methods were working, despite how crazy this investigation was.

“So, to make it look better on an application form, he uses an address that’s respectable. It means he’d planned that part out ahead of time. Nice guy. I think your reasoning is sound because I can’t see a thief living here. Neighbors are too nosey in places like this, they’re bound to ask questions. And this pretty much confirms that Abbott is an alias.”

“True, it does, but what do we do now?”

“Hmm. Walcott said he heard Massimo likes to hang around Blue Rose Street, specifically the bookshops there. I sent the other two over there already, but that’s a lot of ground to cover. Why don’t we go see if we can stir anything up? I think we’d just be in the way if we tried to help out at the apartment building.”

“I can’t even go into the apartment building,” Foster said with a shrug. “No magic in me to help, and I’d be sick pretty quick if I tried.”

“Yeah.” And I wasn’t about to send him off investigating on his own. That was not a good idea. “You know where Blue Rose Street is?”

“I do. It’ll take about thirty minutes to drive there.”

“Then let’s do it.”

It was a crazy, crazy day, an emotional rollercoaster that none of us wanted. I did not consent to these problems, okay? Really, could have done without the whole shebang.

I wasn’t much help with the cleanup of the apartment, and despite me and my trainees rushing madly about interviewing people, we came away with more questions than answers. I tried checking on Henri several times, but it was always Phil who answered. Henri was fast asleep—and snoring, from the sound of it.

Moments like these I felt really blessed having the Felixes. They were the perfect guardians when people were down and needed someone to watch over them. I would have been far more worried about Henri if not for Phil acting as a little guardian angel.

Phil informed me on the last phone call that he remembered what I said, about how purring made people feel better. So, he was purring to Henri while he slept.

My heart. So many feels. Not sure if I could take it.

I felt that Henri definitely deserved a reward after today’s madness. And I wanted to treat myself, too, as it really had been a whirlwind. So, I might have stopped by a certain spot in a certain magical conservatory on my way home.

Master Gardner Pam Pousson, upon hearing that I had imported seeds and seedlings from another planet, had immediately volunteered to grow them for me. There had been a light in her eye of pure challenge and excitement. Considering the possible pitfalls of planting something from Earth here? I was perfectly willing to let her try. Besides, I had a black thumb for plants. Odds were better with her doing the growing.

And, y’know, strawberries were sort of an invasive species. My mother had informed me of this even as she handed everything over. Be careful, strawberry plants like to take over any garden.

I personally didn’t see the problem, but I thought we should probably start with a contained environment, right? Just in case. Hence, magical greenhouse.

I knew the place semi-well, after having worked a case here and coming in and out to check on my beloved plants. I came in through the glass side door, breathing in deeply with a happy smile. The fun part about having an extra-sensitive sniffer was moments like these. Everything smelled rich and amazing in here. It was like giving my nose self-care just by stepping through the door.

Stepping to the right side, I went directly for the glass-enclosed corner that held my strawberries. Pam had created it for the plants, and for a temporary structure, it looked pretty solid to me. Opening the slender door, I stepped through, then paused, eyes growing wide with delight.

“Oh!” I turned, taking it all in. The last time I’d seen them, there had been fruit on four of the seedling plants, and I’d taste-tested and approved them. Pam had taken that approval and run with it, using more magic to speed the process along, including both growth and propagation spells. I knew she had, and I’d been trying very hard to wait patiently for more berries.

Very, very patiently.

Like today, for instance. I’d hoped for one or two ripe ones I could take home with me.

Instead, every plant had multiple berries on offer.

Oh, yeah, baby. Now we’re talking.

Someone approached me from behind; I could hear the footsteps against the stone pavers. I turned to see who it was.

Pam gave me a smile and a wave. She was in her