I suddenly heard a crash and noticed Pepe had disappeared. He popped out of the doorway a second later, looking abashed, with redness coloring his cheeks. "My apologies! I'm such a clumsy old thing. I accidentally knocked the game off the table while fetching a fresh handkerchief." He waved the cloth as though to verify his story.

Mrs. P squeaked, her eyes widening.

Before she could say anything, he grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss on the top of it. "I shall make it up to you, mon amour." He added three more kisses.

Oh, he was good.

She let out a sigh, then a laugh.

Oh, how I loved her boisterous laugh.

Looking up at me, she said, "How can I stay mad at him when he does that?"

I shrugged. "You can't."

She patted his cheek. "I will win the rematch."

He chuckled ominously. "We shall see about that."

I cleared my throat.

Both looked up at me, and Pepe gasped. "Is that linen?"

"You and Godfrey are more alike than you realize," I said to him.

He straightened his red vest. "There's no need to be insulting."

Pepe had lived with the Baleaux family since becoming a familiar hundreds of years ago. Even though they were not related by blood, he and Godfrey showed classic signs of sibling rivalry. Their squabbles often led to threats of biting (by Pepe) or acquiring a cat (by Godfrey). Yet underneath it all was a loyalty that ran deep.

"I'm getting a crick in my neck, doll." Mrs. P motioned for me to pick her up.

I scooped them both up and set them on the sewing table. I sat on the stool so I could look at them face-to-face. "If you have a few minutes to spare, I have some questions I'm hoping the two of you can answer."

"Ah, about poor Raina, I presume," Mrs. P said. "How's the case going, doll?"

"Slowly so far," I said, giving them a quick recap. "It's entirely possible that Raina was killed for personal reasons, but there's also the chance that she was just a pawn used by someone looking for the diamonds. I need more information on the Circe Heist."

Pepe's whiskers, which had been twirled into a fancy mustache, twitched. "It was long ago, ma chere."

"But your memory is long, is it not?" I asked. "You're always saying so."

Mrs. P elbowed him. "She's got you there."

"I truly do not know much."

"What about the accomplice? Do you know who it was?"

"Ah yes, the mysterious Phillip. As far as I know, he's never been identified. There's no one named Phillip in the village. After Sebastian died, Crafters were quite happy to forget the incident ever occurred."

It seemed to be a recurring theme, but information had to be out there somewhere. I decided a trip to the village library was in order. It would be helpful to read archived newspaper articles written at the time of the heist. Or, perhaps, if I was lucky, the microfilm has been digitized and I could search the old papers from home.

"Most Crafters are grateful the diamonds remain hidden," Mrs. P added. "Their power is dangerous in the wrong hands."

"Like Andreus's?" I asked.

"There are many," Pepe said softly, "who cannot be trusted with such power."

His statement struck me hard. "The same reason why the Elder's identity is kept secret." So she wouldn't be used. Abused.

Mrs. P. fidgeted. "That's quite a segue, doll."

"Ve mentioned this morning that the diamonds' power was similar to the Elder's. Do you two know who she is?" I asked, point blank.

"What is this, Darcy?" Mrs. P asked, concern in her eyes. "What's with the questions about the Elder? What does she have to do with Raina?"

Letting out a breath, I said, "Andreus mentioned to me that most everyone in the village knows who she is. I know that's not true, but I can't help but wonder why I haven't been told. I think I've proven I can be trustworthy."

Pepe's eyes narrowed. "He should not be speaking so openly of the Elder."

Mrs. P patted his hand while saying to me, "Ah, doll. Don't fret so. There's a year's waiting period before any new Crafter to the village can possibly learn of her identity. You've been here only eleven months. Patience, my dear."

"A waiting period?" I perked up. "Why hasn't anyone ever said anything?"

"You've never asked," she said, lifting her slim shoulders in a gentle shrug.

A year. Next month will mark a year that I'd lived in the village. Suddenly, my spirits lifted. I'd waited this long . . . what was another few weeks?

"But," Pepe said, wagging a finger, "it is not a guarantee you'll be told even after a year. I do not want you to get your hopes up that it will happen on a certain date. Many have lived in this village for decades and do not know. And it is only the Elder herself who can share the knowledge. No one else is allowed to reveal her identity."

And just like that, my spirits deflated.

"However," Mrs. P said, throwing him a side glance, "I think the Elder has proven she trusts you by giving you the investigative job."

My spirits picked themselves up, dusted themselves off.

"True, true," Pepe said. "As Eugenia so eloquently put it, patience, my dear. All will be revealed in due time."

I narrowed my gaze on them and repeated my earlier question. "Do you two know who she is?"

"Indeed we do," Pepe answered finally, keeping his gaze fixed on me.

I didn't ask who it was-they couldn't tell me diddly-squat without getting into trouble with the Elder. Her orders were not to be disobeyed. Otherwise Crafters faced immense consequences. Like losing their powers. Or being turned into a frog.

I'd try to be patient about her identity, but I did have other questions that they might be able to answer. "How long has she been Elder? Andreus mentioned that he'd been at her appointment many moons ago. I'm guessing that's at least ten years."

Pepe took off his glasses and used his handkerchief to clean the lenses. "Yes, it's been that long. Plus some."

"Twenty years?" I pressed.

"Somewhere thereabouts," Mrs. P murmured, examining her nails.

"Thirty years? Was it around the time of the Circe Heist? Is the Elder Andreus's mother?" That would certainly be quite the surprise.

"No, no," Mrs. P said, shaking her head. She looked at Pepe. "Whatever did become of his mother?"

"Zara Woodshall moved to the South Shore about six months after she and Sebastian divorced," Pepe said. "When Andreus asked to stay behind with his father, she reluctantly acquiesced."

"Did he return to her after Sebastian's death?" I asked.

Pepe shook his head. "No, he moved in with friends of the family here in the village. He was just starting his teenage years and didn't want to be displaced. However, he visited his mother often."

I said, "Cherise mentioned Sebastian had been cheating on Zara with Eleta. . . . Did Andreus hold any ill will toward Eleta for breaking up his family?"

Mrs. P said, "I believe Sebastian took full responsibility for that, doll. Zara knew full well what she was getting into with Sebastian but loved him enough to take the risk. Just as Eleta knew. There's something magical about those Woodshall men."

Pepe gave her a sideways glance.

She said, "What? I'm not blind. Women tend to fall for them hard and fast and become a little obsessed. Eleta never recovered from Sebastian's death and went a little off the deep end. It was only weeks after his death that she became a recluse, never leaving her house again."

"Ever?" I asked. I knew she hadn't emerged in the year I'd been here, but for thirty-five years?

"Ever," Mrs. P said. "She hired out yard work, had groceries delivered, Cherise made house calls. . . ."

"Was Eleta in on the heist?" I asked.

"Indubitably," Pepe said. "However, it was never proven-as much as the police tried." He leaned forward. "Eleta cast the spell to hide the diamonds not to save herself from prosecution, but to prevent anyone else from experiencing the heartache she was feeling. In her eyes, those diamonds killed the man she loved."

I didn't ask how Pepe knew-he was never wrong when it came to the history of this village.

Laughing, Mrs. P rolled her eyes. "I think she cast the spell because she didn't want to go to jail."

"Perhaps," Pepe said with a nod toward his beloved, "it was a little of both."

Ah, compromise.

They'd successfully steered me away from the topic of the Elder, and I suspected it wasn't by chance. I let it go. For now. "Do you think Zara Woodshall could be the anonymous tipster who turned Sebastian in?"

It seemed to me she might have held a grudge against the man. And perhaps she believed Andreus would come live with her if his father was in prison.

"I do not know," Pepe said. "It wouldn't surprise me if it was so. A woman scorned is quite a dangerous creature."

"Do you know if she's still alive?" I asked. Maybe she'd be willing to answer a couple of questions.

"I do not know that, either," Pepe said.

Mrs. P shook her head. "You could ask Andreus."

I could.

But I didn't really want to. He gave me the willies.

"How about Calliope Harcourt?" I asked. "Do you know if she's a Crafter?"

Both shook their heads.

"Finn?"

Again, they shook their heads.

This was going nowhere fast.

"How about the link between Andreus and Glinda Hansel? How are they connected? They looked mighty friendly this morning on the village green."

Mrs. P smiled. "That I can answer, doll. Remember that family who took Andreus in as a teenager?"

I groaned. "Please don't tell me it was Dorothy's family . . ."

"Indeed it was," Pepe said. "Andreus and Dorothy grew up as pseudo-siblings. I believe he is also a godfather to Glinda."

I was starting to get the uneasy feeling that keeping Glinda out of this case was going to be impossible.

Glancing at my watch, I stood up. "All right, well, thanks for the information."

Pepe grabbed Mrs. P's hand and hopped off the table. Both landed gracefully near my feet.

"Anytime, ma chere. Now if you'll excuse us . . ." He tugged Mrs. P's hand.

While they were usually eager to help with my investigations, both seemed a bit reserved with this case, and I suspected it had to do with my questions about the Elder.

As much as they might love me, their first loyalty was to her.

If I were in their shoes, I might run off, too. I could be tenacious when looking for answers, and they probably didn't want to slip up and reveal something they shouldn't. I imagined they wouldn't like becoming frogs.

"You'll see yourself out?" Pepe asked.

"Yes, you two go on in. I wouldn't want to moush your tails when I leave."

Mrs. P laughed and said, "Aha! I told you it was a word."

Pepe shook his fist at me. "La traitresse!"

Traitor.

I blew him a kiss as I turned to go, a smile on my face despite the fact that I was no closer to piecing together this case than when I came in.