I stared at Zephyr, wondering why I hadn’t thought of that.
“You’re a genius,” I told Zephyr, who beamed.
“And I’m not?” Orchid asked.
“You, my dear,” I said, “are a genius in another way. I could hardly run this place without you.”
At that moment, a raft of tourists entered, bent on fingering my merchandise and perhaps buying something that would help them remember their vacation to the French Quarter. That was fine with me. I would smile and praise their excellent tastes, and I was sincere about that. A fine antique was a far better keepsake than some beads. Well, I thought it was. The shoppers spread out, and for a while, I forgot all about the crafts-people and the possibility that that there might be a bow maker in the mix of artisans. When I remembered, I smiled. I had a lead. I had a mission. I need a woodworker, a person who could make a bow out of fine wood. It might not be easy, but there had to be someone. It was just a matter of investigating. I could do that.
A call to Gigi informed me that there was a huge crafts fair every Saturday at a parking lot near the Superdome—when there wasn’t some kind of sporting event. I could find anything I needed there, or so Gigi said. After speaking to her, I wondered if I could wait till Saturday, which was one whole day away. I laughed at that. My second call was to Gwen. Would she work Saturday morning for me? I scored a bingo on that one. For the first time in a while, I was almost happy. Perhaps, I could avoid jail, perhaps.
Andromeda joined me on my walk home.
You walk happily.
I feel better, Andromeda. I have hope.
Hope is a good thing.
A very good thing.
When I reached the house, I felt something was amiss.
You feel it?
I received no answer. Andromeda had disappeared. I knew I was going to miss him. Still, I couldn’t wait outside. I unlocked the door and turned to the bushes.
“Want to come inside, Dalmer?”
Chapter 12
I didn’t offer Dalmer a drink, as I didn’t want her to stay. I was being more than hospitable in letting her come in. We could have settled our business on the porch, but I sensed she wanted some sort of confidentiality, as she had been hiding in the bushes. A confident person would have waited on the porch.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I need a favor,” she said.
Dalmer was not a young witch. In fact, she was an older witch. That wasn’t bad, except in her case, she was an irritant. Not many other witches liked her. Not many people liked her.
“What favor?” I asked.
“I know I don’t deserve a favor,” she said. “I mean, I was wrongly outspoken at the beauty salon.”
“And pub,” I added.
“Yes, that, well, I am sorry for that. Sometimes, my mouth gets ahead of my mind. I really do regret what I’ve done. I hope I haven’t offended you too much.”
“I can live with it. What do you want?”
“Well, there is a new coven being organized, and well, I’d like to join.”
“And you need recommendations.”
She nodded. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I am a competent witch, as I’m sure you know. So, it’s not as if you would be lying or something.”
“There’s more to being a good member of a coven than competence. Covens are formed to produce certain kinds of magic, beneficial magic. They require cooperation and camaraderie. Those are skills you seem to lack.”
“I recognize my shortcomings,” she said. “And I like to think I can hold my tongue when I need to.”
I studied her a moment. I knew she had come to me because most of the other witches had turned her down. After all, she was not a model of friendliness. And since she hadn’t wanted to be seen at my house, she expected to be turned down. Then, she could deny she ever asked.
“Give me the names of the other witches involved,” I said. “Covens are powerful, and I would not wish to help one form that shouldn’t be one, if you know what I mean.”
“The coven is dedicated to good works. I can assure you of that.”
“Then, you won’t mind giving me their names.”
She didn’t hesitate, which was a good sign.
“Of course, I will. I’ll write them down and send them to you.”
“Good. So, here’s how we’ll work this. I’ll look over the names, and if I find the others worthy witches, I’ll give you a qualified recommendation.”
“Qualified?”
“I’ll tell the others that you’re competent but are in need of improved people skills. That’s fair. It’s up to you to demonstrate that you have worked on those skills.”
Dalmer’s face twisted, and I was certain she was about to say something nasty.
“Before you say it,” I said. “Think a moment. You do not have to utter every little thing that pops into your head.”
Her face relaxed. “You are correct. See? I am getting better.”
I wasn’t convinced that Dalmer had turned over a new leaf, but that wasn’t something I was going to dwell upon. After Dalmer left, I made dinner and planned my visit to the craft fair.
Craft fairs were always tributes to individual ingenuity. I was always amazed by what the human mind and hands could fashion. As I worked my way up and down the aisles, stopping here and there, I was joined by a lot of lookers and some buyers. I stopped at all the jewelry sellers and searched for Roxanne’s necklace, but I didn’t come across it. Some of the sellers offered to create something for me, but I had not yet reached that stage. I was still hoping to find the necklace. The antique dealers at the fair possessed estate sale merchandise but not the necklace. I was chasing a unicorn.
Wherever I stopped, I inquired about woodworkers, specifically bow makers. The furniture sellers were indeed woodworkers, but they didn’t craft bows. That was a specialty item. There weren’t many visitors to the fair who were looking for a bow. I was told to try a sporting goods store. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I wasn’t looking to go hunting. I needed to find the person who had created Eric’s bow. I left, having gained little insight into the murder or the necklace. I did manage to find someone who created engaging Christmas ceramics. That was something.
On the way back to the store, I happened by the flower shop. As I passed, I wondered if I could get more information from Eric about the bow on the wall. If he could point me in the proper direction, I would be ahead of the game. Surely, he knew people who created bows. As I entered the shop, I found Jennifer standing at the counter with Eric. Her laugh told me they were having a very nice chat. They looked like old pals, or perhaps something more. There was always a vibe between people who liked each other, or loved each other. It was always difficult to hide.
“Hello, Jennifer” I said as I approached. “I didn’t know you knew Eric.”
“Oh, Eric and I go back at least...three months.”
They both laughed.
“Actually,” Eric said. “We got to know each other when I started calling her about Thomas. Sometimes, he stayed beyond his welcome, and well, Jenny, here, was kind enough to come and take Thomas home.”
“It wasn’t all me,” she said. “There were nights when I needed Eric’s help to get Thomas into the house and passed out on his bed.”