Ritual Income: Witch of the Demesne by B.L. Brown

Author:B.L. Brown [Brown, B.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Good Intent Press
Published: 2023-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty Four

“How did your stepmom and Kayleigh meet?” Milla charged into the kitchen and grabbed her coffee cup for something to do with her hands.

“At the convention in New Orleans, like I said.” Sarah Sanderson settled at the nook. “Complete strangers and they carpooled home.”

“Economic of them.” Darkly wandered back in, Milla’s phone in hand

Sarah snorted, a derisive sound Milla was beginning to think came as second nature to the woman. “Sure, if you call roping my stepmom into shilling crap leggings to unsuspecting housewives ‘economic’.”

“And Jennifer was thinking about quitting as a rep?”

“Not thinking, she did.” Sarah tapped the screen twice and slid the phone across the table, showing them a private chat. Milla compared the timestamp to that of Jennifer’s last comment in the group chat. They were dated within minutes of one another and the private chat involved Kayleigh, Jennifer, and a third name Milla hadn’t yet seen. Sarah grunted, tapping the phone screen. “This was the last conversation my stepmom had with anyone before she died. She told Kayleigh she was tired of the hustle and was going to close the store when her lease ran out.”

“And who is this …” Milla squinted at the members of the private chat. “Annalisa?”

“Ugh,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “Their Upline, some woman they met in New Orleans. She was constantly texting my mom about buying more of that crap.”

“Why would she do that?” Darkly dropped a hip against the island, setting Milla’s phone down.

“Kayleigh and Mom were crosslines,” Sarah stated.

“And that means?”

“They were crosslines. They worked together, and a percentage of their sales went to Annalisa, but their sales and those of the women in their separate downlines didn’t directly impact each other.” Darkly nodded, eyebrows lifted, and Milla was hit with the sudden clarity that he hadn’t followed Sarah’s explanation at all.

“So the more people in your stepmom, or Kayleigh’s, downline…” she started.

“The more money trickled up to Annalisa at the top of the pyramid,” Sarah confirmed. “Jennifer would work with Kayleigh to set up events, though why Kayleigh didn’t open the boutique herself, I have no idea. Lord knows she did far better at selling the tacky shit. Then Jennifer told Kayleigh she was quitting and offered her the sponsorship of her downline. Kayleigh accepted, which is why she’s all over the chat group.”

“She knew she was going to get all of the sales percentages from the other women,” Milla said, her voice flat. Again, her gaze drifted to the button-eyed poppet. “And they met Annalisa in New Orleans?”

Sarah nodded. “Told you where you need to go.”

Milla wiped a clammy palm against her thigh and swallowed. For every new piece of information floating among the scattered corkboard in her mind, there was a city-shaped piece making her increasingly uncomfortable. For not the first time, Milla cursed her inability to use her fractured Way on objects. Her mother could scry information from a scrap of cloth, suss out intention, and divine where the wearer was heading, and what they’d been thinking.

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