by Coralie Moss
“If our workload is that light right now, sure. Having more information for Christoph would be a huge help.”
“Gotta keep Grandpa occupied. I’ll run searches on the surrounding properties too,” she added, slipping her glasses onto her face and staring at her computer screen. “You know me. I am a dog looking for its favorite bone when there’s a good mystery needs solving.”
“You are a squirrel wondering where it buried all its nuts,” I added, to her delight. She grinned and forgot about me, and again, I was reminded how grateful I was to have an assistant like Kerry Pippin. She knew when to stop a line of questioning and when to exercise her expertise. I stirred honey into my second espresso and told myself I could slow down and sip this one.
I closed the door to my office with the excuse that after more than three days with relatives, I needed to focus. I wasn’t being entirely disingenuous. My list of relatives included an ex-mother-in-law, an ex-brother-in-law, and icing on the cake, an ex-husband, and all those exes put together at the same time really was the worst.
Now that we knew who’d killed the hidden folk on Salt Spring Island, I wanted to ask Malvyn if he’d ascertained whether Josiah and Garnet were also responsible for killing the two males Tanner found at other sites, earlier in the summer. I was curious about the Magicals’ system of justice in these cases. My heart hurt for Sallie. She might need therapy.
I left a message at Rowan’s clinic office, asking her to call when she had a moment. Using the office landline, I called the Pearmains’ number.
“Hyslop Pearmain here.”
“Hyslop, it’s Calliope,” I said. “How are you doing?”
“Considering our grandparents are missing, not great. But we’re aware that Tanner has a solid lead on their whereabouts, and we remain hopeful.”
“Are the sisters with you?”
“They are. They like it here.”
“Do you like having them with you?”
“We do.” Hyslop’s voice had lowered to a whisper. “Peasgood and I were hoping to get Gram and Gramp’s blessing to ask their hands in marriage. After that, our plan was to discuss the engagements with Néne and Sil’s parents. They think once their mother and fathers get over the shock, they could be convinced to see the wisdom in their daughters putting down roots in this realm.”
My jaw dropped open. “What do you mean, this realm?”
“Our druidic training took us to Europe and one other realm. We spent time in the French Alps and also at the Seelie Court.” Voices raised in the background. “Can you hold for a moment please?”
I added Seelie Court and Unseelie Court to a long list of questions for Christoph and the others, right under rings that sized themselves, blood, and more than a dozen other items.
“I’m sorry,” Hyslop said, “but I have to go. Néne and Sil are arguing over where to put a flower garden.”
“Give them each their own plot,” I suggested, adding, “on opposites sides of the property.” Through the glass panel beside the door to my office, I could see Kerry waving. I mouthed, “What?”
“Come. Here.”
I returned the receiver to the cradle and joined Kerry. “Did you find something?”
“How much do you know about your ex’s real estate holdings on Salt Spring?”
“I wasn’t aware he owned any property here,” I said, crossing my arms and settling one hip against her desk. “Aside from the building they renovated last year, the one where they have an office.”
I was on the verge of a belly-plummeting moment, and my hold was slipping. I squeezed my biceps and breathed through my nose.
“Your house abuts three other parcels, two of which are owned by the Flechette Real Estate and Property Development Corporation. The third one’s in a blind trust, same as the big parcel across the road from you. That one runs almost the entire length of Fortune’s Folly Road.”
That would explain how Doug and Roger had gained access to the woods behind the back of my house. “Does it look they own anything else on the island?”
“According to the real estate gossip sheet, an A. Flechette has entered in a bid on one of the orchards in the south end. Hmm,” Kerry murmured, clicking away with her mouse. “I had no idea that old property was under foreclosure.”
“Kerry, is that orchard anywhere near Brooks Farm?” Harper and Thatcher worked for the Brooks family.
“Uhhhh…yep. Across the road. I’m kinda surprised Lolly hasn’t snatched it up already.”
I grabbed my bag and my phone. Lolly Brooks had been in labor the day I met Rowan. No wonder acquiring a neighboring property wasn’t at the top of her to-do list.
“Kerry, I’ll be back. My ex has been…” I stopped to press my fingertips against my eyes. I wasn’t going lose it in front of my assistant. “My ex has not been acting in our sons’ best interests lately. Harper and Thatcher work at Lolly’s and I…”
“You go make sure they’re okay.” Kerry came out from behind her desk, gave me a hug, and steered me out the office door. “Call me. And let me know if there’s anything I can do from here.”
I pointed at my canvas bag. “Get the soil samples in there over to Rowan’s office. I’ll call her from my car and let her to know to expect you.” I gripped the knob and grounded myself in the look of concern in Kerry’s eyes. “And thank you.”
Getting to the southern part of the island meant I’d be driving through cell service dead zones for long stretches. I made myself sit in my car and call Harper and Thatcher, only to reach both their voicemails. Tanner was in—or on his way to—France. Christoph had no cell phone that I was aware of. That left River, Wes, and Kaz. I would start with Wes.
Taking a breath, I patted my chest, looking for the familiar reassurance of the pouch. Only, it wasn’t nestled at my sternum, and there were no leather cords looped around my neck.
Rather than hyperventilate, I walked myself through my morning routine and pinpointed when I might have inadvertently removed the pouch.
I called Wes.
“The boys left about thirty minutes after you,” he said. “Had breakfast first. Christoph and I made sure they had their amulets and the temporary portal stones, the pelotes. We made two for each and strapped them on their arms above the elbow. Either one of them can activate any of the four stones, and it’ll get them to the crabapple, Calliope.”
“Wes, I appreciate knowing about the stones, but I literally just found out the Flechette Group owns two of the properties next to mine and Adelaide has an offer on the orchard near the big farm where my kids work. I have this horrible feeling they’re walking into a trap.”
There, I said it. Voiced my worst fear, that Harper or Thatcher would be kidnapped by Doug or one of the Fae working for Meribah.
“I have to go, Wes. I have to go to the farm and see them for myself.”
“I’m coming too, Calliope. I’ll meet you there.”
The pouch. “Wes, wait. I forgot to check for Tanner’s pouch before I left. Can you go to my bedroom and see if it’s in the pile of clothes on my desk chair?”
I was fairly certain I had pulled it over my head when I took off my sleeping T-shirt. Forehead resting on my arm, I drummed my fingers on my dashboard, counted my breaths, and tried to come up with a safe place to stash the pouch.
“Found it. Right where you said it was. Do you want me to bring it with me?”
“There’s a pile of ribbons on my bureau. Tuck it under there. I know it’s messy but…”
“Done. I’m on my way.” Wes hung up, and I started my car.
Nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the feeling in your gut when you’re in a stupid tiny car, forced to drive slow because of gawking tourists, speed limits, an in-bred deer population, and hairpin turns. Gripping the steering wheel, I kept my gaze to the road and hollered behind closed windows for humans and deer to get out of my way.
Harper and Thatch liked to stop at one of two roadside bakeries on the way to the farm. I even knew whi
ch treat they would pick up for a long day of harvesting vegetables under the sun: Nanaimo bars. They would stick their desserts in the fridge in the barn and split one bar at each of their two breaks. I knew this because they would still be fighting about who got the bigger half as they walked in the front door after work.
I tore through the open gate at the first bakery, left my car idling, and smacked the screen door open. “Gail, did Harper and Thatcher stop in this morning?”
“No, not that I know of, why?”
“Just…nothing,” I said, flopping my hand in her direction and tearing back to my car. The next section of road was flat and all curves, with family farms and orchards to both sides, which meant I had to be on the lookout for tractors pulling out and sheep and chickens and—
There! Harper’s Jeep, parked in the near corner of the small lot fronting the second bakery.
I almost cried with relief. I parked perpendicular to the back of the vehicle and ran to the bakery.
The gangly teen behind the counter was a friend of Thatcher’s, and for the life of me I could not remember his name.
“Hey, was Thatch here?” I asked.
“He was, but he didn’t come in.” The kid lifted his arm and pointed past me, to the big glass window. “I saw him and Harp pull in. Their dad pulled in behind them, kinda like what you did.”
“Then what?” I asked, digging my nails into my palms. Talk faster, talk faster.
He lifted his bony shoulders. “They all got into the Japanese mini-truck their dad was driving and left. I think he was pissed. They almost hit another car on the way out.”
“Do you remember which way they went?”
Tall and skinny leaned his head to the side. “South. And the truck was white, like all of ‘em.”
Tears blurred my eyes as I trotted to my car. This could not be happening, not after Christoph promised they would be safe.
Fuck.
Wes pulled in and parked at a haphazard angle, worse than mine. Slamming his door behind him, he asked, “They got them, didn’t they?”
I could only nod and point to the Jeep. The windows next to the front seats were down, two painfully familiar backpacks still in the back seat and both cellphones connected to the charger. I jogged around the car, not knowing what I was looking for, when Wes called out.
“Calli, c’mere.” He crouched near a back tire and pointed. “Look. The leather bands we made. Cut off. Same with their amulets. And the portal stones are crushed.” He squinted up at me. “Either whoever took the boys sliced off the bands, or your sons left them deliberately.”
“If Harp and Thatch cut them off, what does that mean? Why would they do that? They could have used the stones to get home.”
“And whoever took the boys could use the stones to bypass the wards and get to your house.” Wes poked through the broken bits with the tip of his knife then lifted the leather strips.
“It was Doug,” I said. “Doug took them. The kid in there said he saw their father pull up, argue with the boys, and then they all drove away in the same white truck.” I spun around, surveying the packed dirt of the parking area. “What the hell do I do now?”
Wes had the Jeep’s driver’s side door open. “Let’s take their things and leave a note. I’ll tell the kid in there you had a family emergency and ask if we can leave the Jeep here.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding and jangling my keychain. “I’ve got a spare key. And I need a minute to think.”
Chapter 19
Standing still might work for meditation, but it sure as shit wasn’t working for problem-solving of this magnitude. Wes jogged back to me.
“Can you call Rowan?” I asked. “I don’t think there’s anything she can do, but—”
“Already done. I’m calling the Pearmain house now.” Wes had his phone to his ear.
I mimed him hanging up. “Before you do that, can you call Ro again? Ask her if Lolly Brooks is human or Magical.”
“Lolly who?” he asked, stepping into the shaded side of the car and tapping his phone.
“Brooks. Lolly Brooks. Her family owns the farm where Harper and Thatcher work, and she’s a patient of Rowan’s.”
Who to call next?
“Kerry. It’s Calli. Something’s come up with my kiddos.” And I can’t explain it to you right now. Maybe not ever. “Forget about taking those soil samples to Dr. Rowan’s clinic. I need you to keep the office open. I’ll send over someone else to pick up the kit.”
I was desperate to know if the soil samples could be tested using magical means. If they could?
I called Rose, knowing I was making a big ask to someone I barely knew. “Rose. It’s Calliope. The Fae have my sons. And I need a favor. Do you know if L’Runa or any other Magical on the island has the ability to test soil samples for blood and DNA and memories?”
Oh my Goddess, what I was asking for was impossible. I wanted to know if dirt could hold memories.
“Of course she can,” Rose said, in her implacable way. “As can I. Although separating memories takes about as long as unpacking the DNA. Where are the samples, and when do you need the results?”
“They’re in a canvas bag at my office in Ganges. My assistant is there now. Her name is Kerry Pippin, and she works until four. I need the results yesterday, but what I really need to know is what’s in the sample on top.”
“I will go myself and call you as soon as I have any information.”
“Thank you, Rose.”
“Did you say Kerry Pippin was your assistant?”
“Yes,” I answered, that familiar sensation of waiting at the edge of cliff rocking bringing me onto my toes. “Why?”
“Could be nothing. I’ll speak more about the Pippins, depending on what I find when I meet this Kerry.”
Fuck. What if Kerry was like Jack, able to hide her Magical status behind a wall of scent?
I was adding a mumbled “Thank you” as Rose disconnected our call.
“Rowan says as far as she knows, the Brooks family is human, though unseen Magicals could be working the farm, much like the hidden folk work with the orchards. She also emphasized Lolly was a new patient and all Ro did was help deliver her baby.” Wes opened the passenger’s side door, withdrew his backpack, and held out my gauntlets and wand. “I grabbed these before I left,” he said. “Christoph should be here any minute.”
“He’s up there in broad daylight?” I was two steps behind following Wes’s report and trying to recall if Kerry smelled like anything memorable, “Wes, I…”
I took my wand and gauntlets and made no move to pocket the one or don the other. Wes then offered me an energy snack ball, the ones made from seeds and dates and I didn’t know what else.
But I didn’t eat raw snacks. They gave me a stomach ache. “No, thanks. Not hungry.”
“Calli, it’s not edible. This is a pelote, made from soil taken from the base of your crabapple tree. We made extra. I texted our coordinates to Christoph, and he’s using one to get to me—us.”
Sure. I believed a little ball studded with seeds could transport a one-hundred-seventy pound man, one-eighty-five with wings. Until the suction of the insta-portal pressed my work-day uniform of short-sleeved shirt and cargo pants to my body. Wes’s clothes were doing the same.
Christoph blinked into being next to Wes, bumping his knee on the car door.
“Ouch.” He bent to rub his leg and stared at me. “Short of hitchhiking, I had no other way to get to you.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, stroking the ruffled feathers poking out in odd directions from one wing. Having Christoph with us meant there was no one at the house. I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea.
“Calliope, I didn’t have a chance to explain how your father’s rings work.” He showed me his hands and the steel-colored rings on his thumbs. His rings were the serious model, broader, thicker, and inset with stones. “Come here. Let me show you. This will allow you to fly with me or any other Aviator also wearing
their rings.”
“We don’t have time for flying lessons,” I said, anger flaring. “Doug has Harper and Thatcher, and we need everybody’s help to find my boys.”
Christoph caught my hands in his. “Look at me, Calli-lass.”
I did. I hung on to the calm command in my grandfather’s eyes as they went from warm brown to onyx, circled with that thin band of yellow-gold. When Christoph touched his rings to mine, it was like he plugged me in, buckled a seat belt around my tenuous grip on sanity, and fed me all his strength and confidence.
“We can only do this at night. Do you understand?” he asked.
I nodded. “If you ever take me flying, please don’t drop me.”
“I’ve never dropped anyone who didn’t need a good shaking up,” he said. “I’m going to release the connection now, okay?”
“Okay,” I said. He let go, his eyes lightened, and I returned to verging on freaking out. My phone dinged with a text message. I pocketed my wand and tucked the gauntlets under my arm. “It’s from Rowan. I have to read this.”
“I contacted Shamaha + gave her your number. She’s on standby. I’m at work until 6,” it read. Another text came in as I scrolled. “You are strong. You have good people around you. Go get your boys.”
I glanced up to see Wes and Christoph staring at me.
“Did something happen?” I asked, wiping my eyes.
“We need a strategy.” Wes inclined his head toward the front of the bakery. Hungry tourists had started to arrive for lunch. “If the Fae are behind Doug’s actions, we get one chance to find your sons and grab them.”
“You’re scaring her, Wessel,” Christoph said.
“She should be scared,” Wes said, hands gripping his hips. “We should all be scared. Let your fear keep you sharp. Don’t let it paralyze you.” He turned toward the bakery. “C’mon. Let’s go talk to the kid in there, see if he remembers anything else.”
“Order a sandwich for me,” I said, “and give me couple minutes. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.” I was being pulled forcibly in three directions: follow Wes and Christoph, sit in the Jeep and see what I could extract from inside Harper’s beloved vehicle, or get barefoot and read what I could from the ground.
