The Devil's Teeth (Ravenwood Mysteries #5)

by Sabrina Flynn

  "Thank God for that," he said, and then took another enthusiastic bite. It gave his mind a firm nudge. "Tim." He had all but forgotten the old man. Riot quickly swallowed, and started to rise. "I promised I'd bring him dinner."

  Lily placed a hand over his. "I'll take it."

  "He's not fit for ladies."

  "Is he ever?" Lily stood, and plucked a plate from the counter. "Seeing that man turn brick red is always amusing."

  "You'll be blinded today."

  Lily laughed as she placed a napkin over the plate. "Sit, eat, and take your time. Miss Isobel will never forgive me if those cheekbones of yours get any sharper."

  "Yes, ma'am." As soon as Miss Lily left, he tossed a piece of roast to Watson. "Don't tell anyone."

  Cards fluttered under Riot's fingertips. The blur reminded him of hummingbird wings flitting from one hand to the next. Hypnotic. Soothing.

  A soft knock inserted itself into his contemplation. Watson looked up from where he was melting in front of the hearth.

  "Yes?"

  "It's me."

  "Come in," he called.

  The fat cat rolled onto his other side to watch the door. Sarah poked her head in the room, and Tobias slipped under her arm. He skipped over to land in Ravenwood's chair. The boy wore striped pajamas that had been let out to the threads, and that stopped at his shins. He was growing like a weed.

  Riot tucked his cards away, and stood. "Stand for a lady, Tobias."

  The boy glanced at Sarah, blew out a breath, and slid off the chair.

  Sarah was wearing her nightclothes, too. Robe, nightgown, and slippers. "Would you like some tea?" she asked.

  Riot pointed to a snifter with his forgotten brandy inside. "No, thank you. Take my chair."

  "She's just using tea as an excuse," Tobias said. "We want to know what happened."

  Riot sat on the ottoman, and reached for his brandy.

  "You can take my seat," Tobias said.

  "I've never much liked that chair," Riot said.

  But Watson did. The cat roused himself to jump up on the throne. He sat and began cleaning his claws.

  Tobias frowned at the thief. "Why not?"

  Rather than argue with the cat, Tobias sat on the floor.

  "That chair never did fit me right." Riot drained his snifter. "I suppose Tobias told you about his day?" he asked Sarah.

  She nodded. "It was boring up to where the other newsboys chased him off."

  "You mentioned a police officer on patrol," Riot said.

  "Two different ones. A fellow with a mustache and a straight back. Maybe around your age, Mr. A.J. And another one."

  "What did the other one look like?"

  "Mean enough to steal the coins off a dead man's eyes," Tobias said.

  "You can't just say 'mean'," Sarah said. "Lots of folks look mean."

  Tobias stared at his slippers. "He was white, and had long sideburns, no neck, and big hands."

  "What time did you see him?" Riot asked.

  "He came round a few times during the day. Even looked in the window."

  "Right before Mr. Nicholas left?"

  Tobias nodded. "There was a fellow in a peacoat following Mr. Nicholas, too, but he cut out towards the docks."

  "And did anyone follow Nicholas from the cable car?"

  Tobias shook his head.

  "Did you summon the police after you took me home?" Sarah asked.

  Riot squared his deck. "I did not. The officer was waiting for him at home. He arrived a few minutes before Mr. Nicholas returned. I believe he's the same officer who Tobias described as looking mean."

  "That's strange," Sarah said.

  "I thought so, too."

  "I saw the time sheet while I was in the back room," Tobias said. "Mr. Nicholas comes in every morning at seven, and he leaves every evening at seven, too. Except on Sundays. It's closed."

  "It's infinitely easier to burgle the home of a reliable gentleman than an unreliable one," Riot said.

  "But who summoned the police? And why'd they wait so long?" Sarah asked.

  "I don't think the police were ever summoned."

  Both children looked at him, puzzled.

  "Maybe the policeman saw the cracked window," Tobias said.

  "I suspect something more," Riot said.

  "What's that?" Sarah asked.

  Riot stood. "I'll tell you when I've confirmed it."

  Tobias perked up. "We'll help."

  "There is something you can do."

  Two expectant faces waited.

  "Go to bed. Both of you."

  Sarah slumped back in the chair, and Tobias blew out a breath. "We don't get no fun."

  "Any," Sarah corrected. "I should have run off with Jin," she mumbled.

  Riot placed a kiss on top of her head. "Knowing Bel—Jin's likely regretting her choice." He glanced at the ever-present sketchbook in her hand. Sarah seemed to need it, to find comfort in it, like a child with a favorite stuffed toy. He tilted his head at her current drawing. It was Mr. Nicholas. "Sarah, can you draw someone from a description?"

  She frowned up at him. "I don't know."

  "You can always try."

  "I suppose there's no harm. Who do you want me to draw?"

  Riot pointed at Tobias. "The second policeman he saw. The mean-looking one."

  "Tobias isn't very good at describing things."

  "Then ask a lot of questions. But do it in the morning. Goodnight. Both of you."

  25

  Adrift

  ISOBEL

  Isobel tapped on the shutter before opening it. Moonlight streamed through, illuminating her sleeping twin. It was like looking into a pond's reflection.

  Lotario opened his eyes, and yawned. "It's late."

  She crossed her arms on the sill. "How's Jin?"

  "Not even a ‘Hello, my dearest brother, how I've missed you?'"

  "Hello, my dearest brother, how I've missed you," she repeated dryly.

  Lotario rolled his eyes, and eased himself up, leaning against the headboard. His bed was directly beside the window, as were all the beds at Bright Waters. Julius Bright believed nature healed: fresh air, sun, and stars. And a soft breeze. There were far worse treatments, in Isobel's opinion.

  "Forced praised isn't praise at all." Lotario reached between headboard and mattress. He came up with a bottle. "Schnaps? You look as though you could use a stiff drink."

  "I thought you weren't supposed to imbibe while here?"

  "Father brought it to celebrate." He looked suspiciously at the bottle. "I don't precisely know what he was celebrating, but nonetheless I pinched it as he was leaving."

  "I'll have a glass." She began climbing through the window, but Lotario made a hissing noise at her. She froze. Balancing awkwardly on the sill, she unlaced her boots, tugged them off, and tossed them on the floor. When she plopped on his mattress, a glass was waiting for her.

  "Where's Jin?" she asked.

  "She insisted on sleeping in your room."

  "How did she get on with the grandparents?"

  "I have no idea. When I tried to go into town, mother threw a fit. She finally sent Hop and father off to question the station agents. Then, while I was resting, mother took Jin out for a walk. When they returned, Jin demanded to know where your room was, then stormed out. I couldn't get a word out of her, but then she doesn't trust me.”

  "What did Mother do to her?"

  "Who knows. Mother said they had a 'pleasant walk'."

  "Hell," she murmured.

  "I'm sure that's what Jin thought. Mother and Father are staying at the Magnolia."

  "What did Hop and Father uncover?"

  "That Mr. Sheel boarded a train bound for Vallejo on Monday. He had a single bag, and was alone."

  It was a six hour train ride. And Mr. Sheel certainly had enough time to make a return trip.

  "And, no. No one saw him return," Lotario said, reading her mind.

  Isobel sniffed at her glass, and took a sip. It burned do
wn her throat, and she coughed. "Has father been dabbling in distilling again?"

  "Hmm. He's searching for the perfect Schnaps."

  She wiped water from her eyes.

  "I did warn you." Lotario studied the glass appreciatively. "Although I think burning water makes more sense in Portuguese than fruit brandy in German. Father should call it aguardente. How goes the hunt?"

  She told him about her conversation with Finn.

  "Do you believe him?"

  "I don't know," she said. "It could explain why he went out of his way to pick on Samuel. But I also remember why father dismissed him."

  Lotario sat up a little straighter.

  "Finn had a cruel sense of humor, and didn't much care for Chinese."

  "That could be said of about half the population of America."

  Isobel couldn't argue the point. "You know how protective mother and father are of Hop…"

  "Did Finn do something to Hop?"

  "Finn wouldn't take orders from him. I remember that much."

  "We didn't take orders from Hop very well either."

  The edge of Isobel's lips quirked upwards. "We don't take orders from anyone very well."

  Lotario touched his glass to hers. "Amen, sister."

  "Julius and I interviewed every miner. A few of them admitted to chasing the children away from the mines at one time or another, but most couldn't tell one child from the next."

  "Scruffy heathens."

  "The miners or children?" she asked.

  Lotario smiled like a cat, but didn't answer.

  "No one admitted to giving Titus a ride, or seeing him in the past week."

  "Someone is lying."

  "Or they are telling the truth. I have to consider the possibility that my instincts are wrong—that Samuel did do something with the boy on his way home."

  "But the bandages on Bebé. Samuel can only tie one knot."

  "So says Doctor Bright, who is protective of Samuel. I think he views him as a son, or at the very least he feels responsible for him. Samuel may have tied those bandages. He learned one knot, perhaps someone took the time to teach him another."

  "How do you account for the tracking dogs running in circles?"

  "Maybe they're senile."

  Lotario snorted. He took another sip. "I like your theory—that Titus hitched a ride on a wagon or horse."

  The words sparked an idea. "A wagon…" She took a long swallow, and let the burn ignite her mind. "How many times did we hitch a ride on a wagon without the driver knowing?"

  Lotario waggled his brows. "I was wondering when you'd think of that."

  Isobel cocked a brow. "Really?"

  "I am the smarter brother."

  She gave a sharp laugh. "So what's my next move, Mycroft?"

  Lotario looked extremely pleased with himself. "Track down everyone on holiday in Calistoga, and lay your horsewhip on them."

  "That's your fantasy," she quipped.

  Lotario ignored the comment.

  "Before I take such drastic measures, I'll stop by The Giant's Fortress. He wasn't at his homestead today." As children, she and Lotario had roamed the valley whenever their family stayed at the vineyard. The twins had dubbed a large Finnish hermit, The Giant. Mostly for his habit of chasing them off with axe or shotgun.

  "You should take Jin with you."

  Isobel stared into her glass. "There's a child missing. I'm fairly sure taking a child along to look for a possible child murderer is irresponsible."

  "Oh, come now. She needs it, Bel."

  Isobel looked up at the serious note in his voice. Her twin was rarely serious.

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because if you don't, I think she'll take off for good."

  "Riot and I can't keep her against her will. We wouldn't be any better than the people who put those scars on her."

  "She's adrift. You need to anchor her."

  As always, Lotario knew just how to make her see the light. Isobel swallowed his words, and let them sink deep inside her heart. "I will."

  Isobel walked into her room at Bright Waters. It was cozy rather than small. Moonlight streamed through the open window, along with a refreshing breeze. The bed was empty. Dread clutched her throat for a moment before she squashed it. An open window didn't mean Jin had left.

  She poked her head outside, and searched the ground. And then the trees. A foot dangled from an oak branch. Isobel changed into simple shirt and trousers, and plucked an apple from a bowl. She tucked it in her shirt, and climbed over the sill. She held onto the beam jutting from the adobe, then dropped, landing softy on the ground.

  Jin lay on an oak branch, staring up at the sky. Without a word, Isobel climbed up the tree, and put her back to the trunk. She followed the girl's gaze. Stars. Too many to count. Too vast for a logical mind. It made her dizzy to contemplate.

  Isobel shook away her unease, and took comfort in the simple things. An apple. She sank her teeth into it with a crunch.

  Jin glared at her.

  "I'm hungry," Isobel said. "Did you eat today?"

  "Mrs. Amsel kept trying to stuff food in me."

  "Whatever my mother did, I'm sorry."

  Jin raised herself on her elbows. "We went for a walk."

  "And?"

  Jin didn't answer.

  "Lotario said you stormed out."

  "Mrs. Amsel did nothing."

  "That's shocking," Isobel muttered. She ate the apple, core and all, and tossed the stem onto the ground. She was on the verge of leaving when Jin spoke.

  "Your parents are nice."

  "You may be the first person to ever utter those words about my mother."

  Jin did not reply.

  "So what happened?" Isobel asked.

  Jin lifted a shoulder. "They are too nice."

  Isobel tilted her head, trying to unravel the girl. "Would you rather they scream at you?"

  Jin sat up, nostrils flaring. "Yes," she bit out. "They are being nice because they feel sorry for me." She gestured violently at her face.

  Isobel held up her hand. "That could be. Or," she paused, but the words got stuck. "By God, I'm about to defend my mother." Isobel raked her fingers through her hair.

  "You do not usually?"

  "No."

  Isobel scooted closer, and let her bare feet dangle over empty air. "My father would be kind to the devil himself, but my mother could try a saint. Lotario and I don't get on with my mother very well."

  "They were very nice to Lotario today."

  "Exactly. For what's it's worth, Ari and I are suspicious, too, but…" Isobel rubbed the back of her neck. "They've lost children. My sister died, and they lost a granddaughter, too. One of my brothers is missing. Another was… He died earlier this year. And they believed I had been killed. I think my mother is trying to change—but maybe she's just angling for something."

  Jin pondered her words. "Loss can turn to bitterness. I did not think it could turn into kindness."

  "Mei is a good example of that," Isobel said.

  Jin looked down at her hands.

  "You can still go, Jin. If you want to." Her voice was rough.

  "Do you want me to go?"

  "No," Isobel said truthfully. "But I want what's best for you."

  "I will miss her."

  Isobel nodded.

  "But I would miss you, too."

  "You'd get over me," Isobel said lightly.

  Jin shook her head. "I still miss my parents."

  Isobel didn't know what to say. She searched for some comforting words, but there weren't any. "Is that why you ran off after the walk with my mother? You remembered what it was like to have a family?"

  Jin didn't answer, not straightaway. Isobel let her be, until the faintest of whispers rasped into the night. "My mother smelled like jasmine and honey." Jin shook herself, visibly hardening. Her hand went to the opposite arm. Nails dug into flesh. Physical pain was far simpler than an empty heart.

  Isobel took Jin's hand. "My mo
ther smells like fire and brimstone."

  Despite herself, Jin snorted, but it was clipped short by a choking sound. The brief crack in emotion was quickly filled with anger. "I've ruined everything again!"

  "What do you mean by that? Again?"

  Jin pressed her lips together. There was no breaking that stubborn wall. The silence only deepened, but the girl didn't snatch her hand away. Progress, Isobel thought. She knew Jin didn't like being backed into corners—physically or conversationally. So Isobel let the subject die, and changed tack.

  "Riot isn't going to kill you. And we're not tossing you into the street for hitting Sarah. Sometimes sisters and brothers fight. I terrorized my older brothers all the time, and my parents kept me."

  Jin pulled away. "And what happens when you have a child? You will toss me to the gutter because I'm not the same as you. I am Chinese."

  "A captain does not abandon her crew. And I don't take kindly to mutineers. And…" Isobel shifted. "I very likely can't have children of my own, so I picked the ones I wanted. You are one of them. What's more binding—choosing a child, or being saddled with an accident?"

  Jin looked up in surprise. "Why can't you have children?"

  Isobel looked to the stars, wishing they held answers. "It doesn't matter," she said after a while. "And I'm happy for it. I've always preferred grown cats over kittens. They're more temperamental."

  Words were on the tip of Jin's tongue, but they never made it past her lips. The girl swallowed them back down, and the two sat in silence.

  "Would you like to come with me tomorrow? To look for the missing boy?"

  Jin nodded.

  "Good. You found that loose floorboard. I need a pair of sharp eyes with me. And speaking of sharp eyes—how is Riot?"

  Jin considered her question. "Besides angry with me?"

  "He's not angry. Trust me."

  "You were not there."

  "Exactly. Tell me how he is."

  "Since we returned to Ravenwood Manor we have not seen much of him. He's always busy. And I don't think he is sleeping very well."

  Isobel nodded. She wanted to scream at injustice. But then she was not entirely without blame.

  Isobel climbed down, and she watched as Jin fell backwards off the branch, caught her legs, and swung, landing on her feet in a neat drop.