Witch One Dunnit? (Rachael Penzra mystery) Read Free Page B

to return to school so I could learn a new trade.  There isn’t anything out there I feel deeply drawn to.  I didn’t want to be a teacher and work with the young, I have no desire to become a nurse and succor the sick. I guess what I really want to be is rich, and while a hundred thousand was nothing to sneeze at, it wouldn’t change my life all that much.  It would be great to have something for retirement, but I wondered how much would be left by then.
       “Everything, of course, will be up to you.”  I could sense his nod, as if in approval of my ambitions.  My business, which I felt so uncertain about, seemed to raise me in his estimation.  “I do think, however, you’d be smart to look into your aunt’s store before you make any decision.  She had a good business head.  She was wise enough to see the homeopathic field, if I might be forgiven the pun, blossoming , and to take advantage of it.  I must admit I wouldn’t have thought of it myself.”  He paused and asked, carefully.  “You did know her well enough to be aware of her, er, spiritual interests?”
       “You mean, do I know she practiced Wicca?” I asked, tickled by his delicate wording.
       “Well, ah... yes.”
       Poor man.  He sounded so uncomfortable with the subject.  “My aunt was very open with me, Mr. Goldberg.  She was a strong, smart woman with deep beliefs.”
       To my surprise, he sounded pleased with my assessment.  “She certainly was, and she said much the same about you.  I had reason to ask about you when she drew up her will.  Not that it was any of my business,” he quickly assured me.  “But naturally I was curious.  She thought very highly of you, and she was pleased with the idea of leaving her possessions to a family member.  Prior to changing it, her will left everything to several ecological and animal charities, which meant everything would have to be sold, and I don’t think she really wanted that.  She loved her home and her shop and she hoped you’d feel the same way.  However, she was quite adamant that the decision was to be entirely yours.  She does ask you try it for a year. You can always remain, if you choose, and start a cleaning business in the area.  It’s full of tourists and big-money estates.  Lots of money.”  He chuckled to show he was being humorous. 
       I didn’t join in on the laugh.  Money, when you need it, isn’t a joke.
       I admit I felt obliged to at least think about trying to run the store for a year, simply because I still retain some of my Minnesota upbringing.  To take the money and run would surely be an ungrateful thing to do. 
       But for all my cold reasoning, I was afraid to make such a big move.  My own little niche in the world might not have many windows, but I felt safe there.
       After my phone conversation with the lawyer, I called my daughter Molly.  She wasn’t thrilled with the news.
       “But Ma, if you go, you’ll be so far away from us!  You hardly get to see the grandchildren as it is.”  She’s my oldest, and is very much the eldest child.  She married right out of high school, moved to Texas with her husband, and proceeded to help run a ranch, raise three kids, and paint whenever she found an extra moment.  It always amazes her when her paintings sold regularly.  What amazed me was how much money she makes from them. 
       “Honey,” I reminded her.  “I have trouble getting down there to see the kids now.  I have to fly to see you no matter where I live—Nevada or Minnesota.  With this inheritance and the income from the shop, if I’m half-way careful, I’ll have money and time , not only to visit you more often than I do now, but to pay for you coming up to see me.  Think how the kids will love Minnesota.  They’ll have a chance to see real snow and do all kinds of things they can’t do in Texas.  And it’ll only be for a year.  If I don’t like it, I can come back here.”  I