Murder Under a Mystic Moon

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “I think so,” I said, falling a few steps behind as I regretted every doughnut I’d eaten over the past month. We reached the pickup, splitting ranks as Mur headed to the driver’s side, and I, to the passenger door. I yanked the handle. Thank heaven it was unlocked. As I scrambled in, Mur gunned the engine and threw it into reverse. She wheeled that baby around as easily as if she was handling a Porsche, and we jolted our way back through the windbreak, out into the main part of the valley.

  I turned to look out the rear window. Nothing followed, though I could see a pair of red eyes staring at us from the thick undergrowth. Sighing, I fell against the back of the seat.

  Murray headed straight for the road near the house. “I’m sorry, Em, but I have no desire whatsoever to stop and question the bikers.”

  “Not a problem, just get us out of here.”

  She turned onto the road that would lead us back to Highway 9. The last rays of sunlight vanished as we drove along. I shuddered, thinking what might have happened if we’d tried this in the moonlight. Though I couldn’t be sure, I’d lay odds that the Warriors of the Mountain grew stronger after the sun went down. I sure wouldn’t want to meet one of them in a dark alley. My forehead twinged and I rubbed the sides of my temples.

  “Mur, the Warriors of the Mountain. What do the legends say about them?”

  She shook her head. “They’re known all over the world by different names. They protect the land and its creatures of the land from intrusion. Some people call them demons. Yet other cultures consider them sacred servants of the mountains, rivers, and valleys they guard. Essentially, they protect areas against human intrusion.”

  “Well, they do a damned good job of it, that’s all I have to say.” I thought about Jimbo’s insistence that Scar had been killed by some creature out there. If the Warriors of the Mountain existed, then I had little doubt the Klakatat Monster also lived in the mountain. I still believed that Scar’s attacker had been all too human, but we would have to walk softly now that we knew there were indeed strong spirits out here.

  “There are ghost stories about this area that date back to when people first arrived in the region,” she continued, her voice still shaking. “I even remember hearing tales about how my ancestors wouldn’t go near Klickavail Valley. The medicine men warned them away. Now I see why.”

  A shiver raced up my spine. “Some places just aren’t meant for human exploration.”

  Murray made another turn and we were on Highway 9. We’d be home within fifteen minutes. “I’m worried about the bikers, Em. Sure, they’re trouble, but there are some powerful forces in that valley. Maybe one of the boys stirred up some of those old energies. If so, then everybody near the area could be in danger.” She sighed and I knew she was thinking of Jimbo.

  We rode the rest of the way home in silence. We were no longer dealing with just a murder mystery. The other-world had stepped in and we had big red targets painted on our auras. Murray dropped me off at the shop and I jumped in my car and started up the engine, eager to get home to Kip and Miranda.

  Chiqetaw was a wonderful place to live, but I was only now beginning to realize that this unobtrusive little town seemed to be built over a psychic powerhouse. I flipped on the overhead light and took a peek in the rearview mirror. Yep, a nasty welt graced my forehead, right over my third eye. Praying it would fade with time, I stepped on the gas. I needed a quiet night at home in front of the television, with a bag of burgers and fries, and one of the cats planted firmly on my lap.

  Chapter 13

  TO KEEP THE kids from asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer, I pulled my bangs over the reddened skin of my forehead before entering the house. Klickavail Valley was beginning to scare me more for its bogeyman denizens than for the bikers that made it their home. Compared to the Warriors of the Mountain, Jimbo and his buddies were fluff bunnies, all sweet-and-sunshine.

  Miranda had left me a note that she’d brought home leftovers for me from Mrs. Trask’s house, and that she was upstairs in her room, reading. After a quick “hello” back and forth on the stairs, I ambled into the kitchen. The Tupperware container contained sliced roast beef, along with a substantial serving of garlic mashed potatoes and gravy. Arranging the food on a plate, I popped it in the microwave and, while nuking my dinner, I hunted in the downstairs bathroom for the antibiotic ointment. I ran a thin layer over the welt, hoping the redness would fade soon.

  The microwave beeped and I cautiously extracted my plate, using a potholder to avoid getting burned on the glass. As I slid into my chair, I took a long whiff of the flecks of rosemary, marjoram, sage, and oregano swimming in the rich gravy. I closed my eyes as a mouthful of mashed potatoes slid down my throat. Yum. Heaven on a fork.

  The phone rang. I wiped my lips on a napkin and answered. It was Murray. “Hey, what’s up?”

  She snorted. “I just filled Jimmy in on our little adventure. He was not amused. And he never heard of that guy, Bear.”

  “Really? I thought he knew just about everybody out there.”

  “The guy’s probably new. People come and go from the enclave all the time, and nobody keeps track of everyone who comes through. I was thinking, though, we could go back this weekend and talk to the men like we’d planned to.”

  “As long as we go before dark.” I had no desire for a reprise of our little adventure.

  “Hell, yes! You’re not catching me out there at night again!”

  We said goodnight and I hung up, wondering why she was so gung ho. Murray usually went through channels; she was a by-the-book woman whenever possible. However, the fact that she was snuggling with Jimbo might just up the ante. The loyalty factor, Harl and I’d dubbed it when talking about all the crazy—and not so crazy—things that women would do for their boyfriends, lovers, and husbands.

  After finishing off Ida’s delicious meal, I trudged up to my bathroom, soaked for a good hour in a tub full of bubbles, and tumbled into bed, dead tired. At least all I had to do the next day was sell china and gossip with my customers.

  CINNAMON AND I were rearranging a display of new teas that we’d just set up the week before when the bells over the door tinkled and I turned to see Murray, with Kip in tow. One look at her face told me that he was in some sort of trouble. I left Cinnamon to finish up and motioned them into my office.

  Murray closed the door behind her and jerked her thumb toward one of the chairs. Kip slid into the seat as she took up her stance behind him, her hands on her hips.

  “Kip has something he wants to tell you.”

  I sat down behind my desk. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  My son’s gaze was glued to the floor as he mumbled. “I tried to sell monster fur.”

  “Monster fur? What are you talking about?” I looked at Murray for help.

  She cleared her throat. “Emerald, I caught your son on the street corner, hawking some dilapidated-looking dreadlocks that he and his buddy Sly were calling Klakatat Monster fur. They were charging a buck for a small swatch.”

  Oh God! I stifled a laugh and gave him the look that I reserved for serious breaches of behavior. “Kip, maybe you should explain yourself?”

  He bit his lip. “Umm, we said you got it up in Klickavail Valley and that you said it was fur from that monster.”

  Shit! I burst into a coughing fit. My son was committing fraud and he was doing so under the shelter of my name! That damned Sly, he had to be behind this.

  “Tell me, please, how in the world did you get the idea that this would be okay?” My desire to laugh vanished as I thought about the potential for disaster. Not only was Kip playing on the wrong side of the law, but what if someone like Cathy Sutton got wind of this? Time to put the breaks on, before this crap got out of hand.

  Kip shrugged. “This mornin’ Sly and I wanted to go buy comic books, but we didn’t have any money and I didn’t want to get into my piggy bank. We got to joking about the monster, and then Rasta came in… I dunno whose
idea it was, really, but Sly got the scissors and we cut a bunch of hair off.”

  Rasta was Sly’s dog. Oh man, his mother would be pissed out of her mind. I didn’t know what breed it was, but the dog was bizarre, with long grey hair that trailed almost to the ground. Looked like it had dreadlocks.

  “You cut off the dog’s hair and sold it as monster fur?”

  With a flutter of his long lashes, Kip nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He knew he was in trouble when he started calling me ma’am. I rubbed my forehead. The welt had faded, leaving only a pale red mark, but now a headache leaped up to take its place. “Just out of curiosity, how much hair did you cut off this dog?”

  Again, a shrug. “We figured it’s summer, Rasta’s prob’ly hot. We didn’t hurt him, Mom! Honest!”

  Yep. They’d shaved the dog bald. Now we’d all get to see what that poor thing looked like under all that hair. Shuddering, I turned to Murray. Time for good cop-bad cop. Unfortunately, since I was his mother, I always played “bad cop.” “So what now? Think you’d better book him?”

  She hooked her thumbs through her belt loops as she towered over him, staring down with a gaze that could pierce steel. “I don’t know. First let’s see how bad things really are. Kipling, did you actually sell any fur?”

  Kip’s lower lip wavered and he flashed me a look of panic. “N-n-n-not much. Just some to Suzy Warnoff and her cousin, Tyler. We charged them a buck each.”

  Thank heavens for that. Right after we were done here, I’d call Farrah, Suzy’s mother and one of my regular customers, and tell her what happened.

  I slowly stood up and leaned across my desk, staring at my son. “So, not only did you lie to them, but you lied in order to take their money. That’s stealing. I didn’t raise you to be a thief, and by God, you’re not going to end up one while you live under my roof.”

  He pressed himself against the back of his chair. “I didn’t think of it that way! I didn’t mean to hurt anybody… it just… Sly thought it would be cool and we were laughing and joking around and… somehow we just… did it.”

  I walked around the desk. “Perhaps next time you’ll think before you do something like this. You know, it seems to me that you and Sly have been in trouble a lot this past year.” I turned to Murray. “What’s happening to Sly?”

  She shrugged. “His mother wasn’t home. I’ll have a talk with her later.”

  About right. Sly’s mother paid as much attention to her kids as she would a fence post. “Well, what should we do about Kipling?”

  “Hmm. Maybe rather than jail, he should serve a little time down at the Bread & Butter House, helping out people who don’t have any money to spend on things like monster fur?”

  I flashed her a grateful smile. “Good idea.”

  “Aw Mom!” The whiny-monster reared its head.

  “Enough! It’ll do you good to see what life’s like for people who don’t have enough money to eat, let alone buy comic books. I’ll call them and make arrangements. In fact, I’ll probably go along myself. And Kip, since you took Suzy’s money, you need to dig out your piggy bank.”

  That caught his attention. My parsimonious son hoarded every penny he got. I was proud of his ability to save up money for the things he really wanted, but he needed to remember this lesson.

  “What?” He sounded about ready to choke.

  “Since you aren’t going to jail, you’ll have to pay a fine. After you give Suzy and Tyler their money back, you can donate half of what you have left to the homeless shelter. Will that be enough, Detective Murray?”

  Mur let him squirm for a minute. “Okay. But Kip, if I ever catch you up to a stupid stunt like that again, I’ll run you in. Got it?”

  He nodded, biting his lip.

  I walked Murray to the front door and we stood outside of the shop. “I can’t believe he did that. What am I going to do? I’ve already grounded him for the stunt he pulled in December. The way things are going, it will be a wonder if he makes it to twenty-one without ending up in juvey… or worse.”

  She laughed. “Oh come on, Em. He’s a kid and kids do stupid things. I doubt that the thought that he might be doing something wrong ever entered his mind. But I would curtail how much time you let him spend with Sly. I know you feel sorry for the kid. I do, too. But Sly’s headed for trouble and you don’t want him taking Kip with him.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” I shook my head. “Man, I hope this doesn’t get around.”

  With a cockeyed grin, she headed for the door. “I’ve got to get back to work. I happened to be driving by when I saw those two on the street corner with a big sign proclaiming that they had Klakatat Monster fur. Spelled it wrong, too.”

  I waved her off and returned to my office. Kip hadn’t budged an inch. I sat down beside him and tapped his knee. “You’re grounded from seeing Sly anymore except during school—”

  “But that means I won’t see him till next month!”

  “Hold on buster. Don’t you interrupt me again. We’ll talk about this when I get home. I want you to go straight home and stay there. And no Internet, and no phone calls to friends, and you can’t have anybody come over to play. Now scoot, and I’m going to call in fifteen minutes to make sure you got there.”

  Without another word, he took off out of the store. I watched as he grabbed his bike and pedaled off in a mad rush. He would have just enough time to get home before I picked up the phone, and he knew it.

  I turned back to Cinnamon, who was working the early lunch rush. Lana came bursting through the door, breathless. As she tied her apron around her waist, I picked up a stack of inventory sheets and headed for my office. Maybe I could get something done before the next crisis diverted my attention.

  I WAS ALMOST through with the week’s paperwork when Cinnamon stuck her head in the door. “Harlow’s here to see you, Emerald.”

  Shoving the stack of completed forms and reports away, I pushed myself out of my chair and stretched. My body ached and I realized that I was actually looking forward to Saturday’s yoga class. I was tired of feeling blah and sluggish.

  Harlow was waiting at the counter. She wiggled her index finger at me.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I gave her a quick hug. “Sorely needing to evict that kid, I see.”

  She snickered. “Uh huh. Well, I’m hoping she holds off until James gets home. He called and said that he finally got his reservation confirmed and he’ll be flying into SeaTac next Thursday.”

  “One week left, then. Wonderful!” Everybody who knew Harlow’s husband had worried about him the whole time he’d been in Africa on a photo-shoot. He’d had a few close run-ins, and I had no doubt his photo spread would be astounding.

  She gave me a gentle smile. “I had to get out of the house. I couldn’t stand being cooped up any more, and when this baby gets her butt in gear and shows up, I won’t have much freedom to come gallivanting into town.”

  I led her into the tearoom, where I filled her in on Kip’s short-lived crime spree.

  She snorted lemonade through her nose. “Ouch! That hurt. I tell you, that boy will be the death of you yet. How will I ever cope with being a parent, Em? I’m just a big old kid myself!”

  “Like I’m not?”

  “Ha! Good point.” Pointing to the sandwich shelf, she asked if I would fetch her a turkey on sourdough. I snagged a couple, handing her one.

  “So what else is going on? You have the nursery ready yet?”

  Biting into the sandwich, she nodded. “Um hmm. All decorated and decked out. Say… Em… I need to tell you something.” She sounded serious.

  “What’s up?”

  “Andrew’s back in town.” She winced. She’d introduced us and was still apologizing, even though I told her to can it.

  I smiled. “I know. He came over to the house night before last.”

  Her eyes bugged out of her head. “What on earth did you do? What did he say? What did he want? Did y
ou throw him out on his ass?”

  Good old Harlow, she loved to dish and this time, I was happy to pile it on for her. “I guess his movie deal fell through and Zia Danes dumped him. He came back all nice and penitent and begging for another chance.”

  She stiffened. “Oh, Em, you didn’t—”

  “Of course I didn’t! What do you take me for? I told him that Joe was my boyfriend, and he rushed out the door, begging me not to make up my mind yet. He’s going to have to accept that there’s not a chance in hell that I’d ever take him back.”

  Harl shook her head. “He realizes what he’s lost and now he’s trying to get it back. Do you think you can ever be friends again? Would you want to?”

  I thought about her question for a moment. “You know, I honestly believe that we’d make good friends, if he can just accept that I’ve moved on. Things just weren’t right for us to be lovers, but everything worked out for the best. At least for me,” I added, grinning. “I think his ego’s stung by the fact that I found somebody else, more than him really wanting me back.”

  “Give him a little time. Once he sees you with Joe… I think he’ll understand. Speaking of Joe, have you told him about this?”

  Tell Joe? Was she kidding? I flashed her a skeptical look over my sandwich. “Um, somehow I don’t believe that he will appreciate this situation in the way that you do.”

  Harl shrugged. “Maybe not, but he has to know. Joe won’t trust you if you don’t tell him about Andrew’s visit.”

  Cripes. She was right. I’d given her the same advice when she’d found out she was pregnant, and was afraid to tell her husband. But man, oh man, I didn’t relish the conversation that I knew would emerge from my revelation. Joe thought Andrew was scum. With a sigh, I promised that I’d talk to him as soon as possible. “Now that that’s over, let me tell you about the adventure Murray and I had last night…” And I was off and running, with Harl hanging on every word.