Ceremony in Death (In Death #5)(77)

“Not at the moment.”

“I appreciate it. If you could, ah, give me just a moment.” He shot her a sheepish look. “Isis prefers not to have caffeine in the house. I’m weak,” he said, taking another sip. “She knows I sneak off every morning to feed my addiction and pretends not to. It’s foolish, but it makes us happy.”

“Take your time. You get that across the street?”

“That would be a little too close to home. And to be honest, the coffee’s filthy there. They make a decent cup down at the corner deli.” He sipped again with obvious pleasure. “I gave up cigarettes years ago, even herbals, but I can’t quite do without a cup of coffee. Did you enjoy the ceremony last night?”

“It was interesting.” Since the morning air was sharp, she tucked her ungloved hands in her pockets. Traffic, both street and air, was beginning to thin a little with the first commuter rush passing. “Getting a little brisk to run around naked in the woods, isn’t it?”

“Yes. We probably won’t hold any more outdoor ceremonies this year. Certainly not skyclad. But Mirium had her heart set on being initiated to first-degree witch before Samhain.”

“Samhain.”

“Halloween,” he and Peabody said together. She shuffled her feet as he smiled at her. “Free-Ager,” she muttered.

“Ah, there are some basic similarities.” He finished off his coffee, stepped over to a recycling bin, and neatly slipped the cup in the slot. “You have a cold, Officer.”

“Yes, sir.” Peabody sniffled, determinedly blocked a sneeze.

“I have something that should ease that. One of our members recognized you. Lieutenant. She said she’d given you a reading lately. On the night, actually, that Alice died.”

“That’s right.”

“Cassandra is very skilled and very sweet-natured,” Chas began as he started up the steps. “She feels she should have been able to see more clearly, to tell you that Alice was in danger. She believes you are.” He paused, looked back. “She hoped that you’re still carrying the stone she gave you.”

“It’s around somewhere.”

He let out a sound that might have been a sigh. “How’s your neck?”

“Good as new.”

“I see it’s healed cleanly.”

“Yeah, and quickly. What was in that stuff you put on it?”

Humor flickered in his eyes, surprising her. “Oh, just some tongue of bat, a little eye of newt.” He opened the door to a musical chime of bells. “Please be comfortable. I’ll get you some tea to warm you up since I kept you standing.”

“You don’t have to bother.”

“It’s no bother at all. Just be a moment.”

He slipped through a doorway, and Eve took the time to study his living quarters.

She wouldn’t call them simple. Obviously, a lot of the stock from the shelves downstairs made its way up here. Large, many-speared hunks of crystals decorated an oval table and circled a copper urn filled with fall flowers. An intricate tapestry hung on the wall over a curved, blue sofa. Men and women, suns and moons, a castle with flame spewing from the arrow slits.

“The major arcana,” Peabody told her as Eve stepped up for a closer look. She sneezed once, violently, and dug out a tissue. “The Tarot. It looks old, hand-worked.”

“Expensive,” Eve decided. Art such as this didn’t come cheaply.

There were statues in pewter and carved from smooth stone. Wizards and dragons, two-headed dogs, sinuous women with delicate wings. Another wall was covered with odd, attractive symbols in splashes of color.

“From the Book of Kells.” Peabody lifted her shoulders at Eve’s curious glance. “My mother likes to embroider the symbols, like on pillows and samplers. They look nice. It’s a nice place.” And it didn’t give her the willies like the Cross apartment. “Eccentric, but nice.”

“Business must be good for them to be able to afford the antiques, the metalwork, the art.”

“The business does well enough,” Chas said as he came back with a tray laden with a flower patterned ceramic pot and cups. “And I had some resources of my own before we opened.”

“Inheritance?”

“No.” He set the tray down on a circular coffee table. “Savings, investments. Chemical engineers are well paid.”

“But you gave it all up to work retail.”

“I gave it up,” he said simply. “I was unhappy in my work. I was unhappy in my life.”

“Therapy didn’t help.”

He met her eyes again, though it seemed to cost him. “It didn’t hurt. Please sit down. I’ll answer your questions.”

“She can’t make you go through this, Chas.” Isis slipped into the room like smoke. Her gown was gray today, the color of storm clouds, and swirled around her ankles as she moved to him. “You’re entitled to your privacy, under any law.”

“I can insist that he answer my questions,” Eve corrected. “I’m investigating murder here. He is, of course, entitled to counsel.”

“It isn’t a lawyer he needs, but peace.” Isis whirled, her eyes alive with emotion, and Chas took her hands, lifted them to his lips, pressed his face to them.