Flo harrumphed. “If Madame Zelda ever comes back, maybe she can peer into her crystal ball and channel Colette from the Great Beyond.”
I snorted. “I’m pretty sure the only channel Zelda knows how to tune into with any kind of success is the Home Shopping Channel.”
“Is that where she buys those caftans?”
“Almost certainly.”
Flo shook her head slowly, brows furrowed. “I for one still think the seance is a fun idea. You never know, Zelda might surprise you. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”
“I’m not letting Zelda channel Aunt Colette.” I rolled my eyes. “But I really should try to track her down. If the next few weeks are anything like today, we’re going to need all hands on deck to deal with the customers.”
“Do you have her home address?”
“Yeah, I think so. It’s jotted down somewhere in my personnel files in the back office… Why? You think I should do a wellness check?”
“No, I thinkweshould do a wellness check. No way in hell are you going to track down that old flimflammer alone.”
An uncharacteristic bleat of laughter came from the direction of the front door, where Hetti was hauling the trash bag. By the time I glanced over, all traces of amusement were wiped from the barista’s face. She stared at me and Flo on the sofa with her typical apathetic expression.
“I’m out of here, boss,” she said. Her fingers, which were painted with chipped black polish, tightly gripped the plastic bag, which appeared full to bursting. “I’ll toss this in the dumpster behind the bakery on my way home.”
“Our alley should be cleaned up soon,” I promised her. “I’ll check in with Detective Hightower tomorrow, see if we’re clear to use our dumpsters again.”
Hetti nodded and turned for the door.
“Thanks for all your help today!” I called after her.
The only answer I got was the tinkle of bells as the door slammed closed. I took no offense. This was a standard exit for Hetti.
“That girl needs some serotonin,” Flo muttered, pushing to her feet. She pulled me up after her, ignoring my groan of protest as my tired bones screamed for sleep. “Come on. Let’s go get Desmond and get the hell out of here. Ten bucks says he fell asleep grading papers at your desk in the back. Twenty says there’s ink all over his adorable geeky face.”
“I’m smart enough not to take that bet.”
As we moved through the shop, I took mental note of all the things that needed to be handled before we opened for business tomorrow morning. The book display tables were a mess. The bundles of hanging herbs were depleted. Half our crystals were cleared out. (Surprise, surprise…we still had plenty of citrine.) The glass apothecary cabinets needed reorganization. The relic cabinets needed dusting and (ugh) Windexing. The bathroom needed fresh toilet paper and a proper scrub…
“Stop it.”
My brows shot up at Florence’s abrupt statement. “Stop what?”
“Hyper-fixating on everything you need to handle.”
I rolled my eyes. She knew me too well. “If I scratch some of it off my list tonight, there will be less to do before we open—”
“Gwen. No. You’re dead on your feet. You’re going to go home, get in your shower, and then sleep.” She pushed open the back door to the storage room. “In the infamous words of Scarlett O’Hara:tomorrow is another day.”
* * *
Tomorrow came around far too fast.
I nearly punched my alarm clock across the room when it chirped violently at half past seven. I’d slept, deep and dreamless, for nearly twelve hours, but it barely made a dent in my bone-deep weariness.
Fighting a yawn, I brewed extra-strength coffee and decided to skip my typical Sunday morning jog. Pretty much every week, like clockwork, I took a long run around town before heading to work, since The Gallows opened at noon instead of nine on Sundays. But I simply wasn’t up for it today.
It was the first of the month. Officially October. My favorite month of the year. As I sipped my coffee, I grabbed a familiar jar from my spice rack and wandered to the front door. Stepping out into the crisp early-morning air, I hopped from foot to foot to keep warm as I shook a healthy sprinkle of cinnamon across the front stoop, just as Aunt Colette taught me to do when I was a kid.
Cinnamon signals abundance, Gwendolyn. Place one teaspoon at your threshold on the first of each month. When it blows inside, it will bring good fortune into your home.
It wasn’t that I truly believed a common kitchen herb could have a tangible impact on my finances. But the ritual was something we used to do together. Now that she was gone, I continued the tradition because it made me feel close to her.