Nora gingerly turned pages until the damage from the spill was no longer evident. At last, she came to a page crammed with writing. Words stretched from edge to edge. Hundreds of words, just waiting to be read.
But as Nora continued looking, her excitement dimmed. She couldn’t read the words. Not on this page or on any page that followed. Juliana’s notebook had been written in German.
Still, Nora could marvel over the drawings. Most were of plants, but every so often, an insect or animal would appear in the margin. There were bees, birds, and several snakes. And then, quite abruptly, the style of handwriting changed. The new script featured a less stylized, compact script, whereas the first was all dramatic loops and curls. There were no plant drawings in this section, either. The only illustrations, a mortar and pestle and a glass bottle with a stopper, preceded another handwriting change.
“Three different women,” Nora whispered.
Based on what Celeste had said about her lineage, three women named Juliana had contributed to this notebook. The third Juliana had written the least, preferring to focus her efforts on illustrations of plants. These drawings, which were far more detailed than those made by the first Juliana, were carefully labeled from flower to root. There were ten in total. Some of the plants, like the dandelion and poppy, were easily recognizable. Others didn’t look at all familiar.
A list accompanied each plant, and Nora guessed that its purpose was to describe the medicinal uses of root, stem, and flower.
The fourth Juliana used only two pages, and these were filled with a confusing array of geometric shapes, symbols, and doodles. Next to a pair of overlapping circles featuring a series of glyphs, the author had drawn a bowl of liquid, a knife, and a burning torch.
Nora tried to understand what she was seeing.
Are these spells? Did the fourth Juliana walk a different path than these other women?
After digging her phone out of her pocket, Nora opened the image of the Potion Page. Whoever created the fake page had copied some of symbols and glyphs from Juliana’s book.
“Was it you, Bren? Were you trying to impress the Maestro? Is that why you showed him this book?”
It must have been Bren. Why would Celeste share her family treasure with Wolf Beck?
Then again, Nora had no idea how Still Waters functioned. Maybe the community members shared everything. Maybe they kept no secrets.
Everyone has secrets.
Nora examined the blank pages at the end of the book. If Beck had his way, they’d be used to make a counterfeit grimoire.
With this in mind, Nora turned to the last page where she found paper remnants attached to the binding. Someone had cut pages out of the book. She counted four paper spines, which meant Bren and Beck could have forged and sold three occult artifacts. The fourth was the Potion Page.
Sheriff McCabe joined Nora at the gift wrap counter. “Is it the right bait?”
Nora folded the white paper around the book like a mother covering a child’s ears.
“Beck won’t be able to resist it. I’ll send images to Bobbie, who’ll pass them on to Monkshood81. If he agrees to the asking price, she’ll let him know the time and place for the exchange.”
“Good. Go ahead and take your photos. When you’re done, I’ll go back to the station and work out the details of this meeting.”
Using white tissue paper as a backdrop, Nora took a dozen photos of Juliana’s notebook.
When she was done, she wrapped the book in the tissue paper and held it out to McCabe.
“This is a piece of history. It belonged to Celeste. It should have been passed on to Bren. Generations of women from the same family wrote in this book. Can you imagine all that it’s seen—and survived—between the time of its first entry and today? It traveled from Germany to America. From Alabama to North Carolina. And God knows where else. Please be careful with it.”
“I’ll keep it safe,” McCabe replied solemnly. “I promise.” Outside, the sheriff locked the back door and Nora stared at Greg’s graffiti in disgust.
She then glanced up at the second-story windows and realized that Celeste had been in her bedroom while Greg had been spray-painting those scarlet letters.
McCabe turned to go, but Nora caught him by the arm and pointed at the door. “If Celeste was still alive when I found her, and I saw Greg Knapp right here before I went upstairs, then how did the killer get out of the building without running into Greg or me?”
“The spare store key is missing, so we’re assuming the killer used the front door. We can’t be sure because there’s no alarm system or security camera, which is par for the course around here. I love the trusting nature of the folks in this town. Until something like this happens.”