Cloaks and Daggers

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Cloaks and Daggers Page 10

by Annabel Chase


  “Well, I’m here if you want to talk about it,” I said.

  “Will you go to the hearing?”

  “I think so,” I said. “I’d like to see what happens so I know for sure.”

  “Do you think she’ll seek vengeance?”

  I studied my infant daughter. “I certainly hope not.”

  Agnes shifted Diana to cradle her. “I can’t pretend to know what Jacinda is capable of, not anymore, but I swear to you that I won’t let her hurt your child. I would break out of this prison and make her answer to me first.”

  “I don’t think she’d stoop to that level,” I said. If for no other reason than she didn’t want to return to prison after securing a miraculous release. “Anyway, I thought you’d want to know.”

  “Thank you for telling me, dearie,” Agnes said. Her focus shifted to Silas and I saw the regret in her eyes. “Perhaps she’ll come to see me one last time before she slips away.”

  “Do you think she will?” I asked.

  “I honestly couldn’t say. I suppose it will be a surprise.” She handed the baby back to me with a wan smile. “Good thing I like surprises.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I left the care home and drove Diana home to feed her and put her down for a nap. Gareth and Magpie were only too happy to offer their watchdog services so that I could go and speak to Jim alone. I crossed my fingers that he’d be at Kiss My Glass, which was the new shop in town featuring handblown gifts that apparently opened during my brief convalescence. One traumatic birth and I was out of the loop on all the town news.

  I entered the shop and was immediately overwhelmed by the rows of delicate glass trinkets. There were colorful butterflies, dragonflies, mushrooms, dragons, unicorns, narwhals—basically anything that could be made into a glass figurine seemed to be available here. I paused in front of a delicate ballerina. The figurine was a pale shade of pink.

  “Pretty, isn’t she?” a lyrical voice said. “I made that one myself.”

  I turned to see a middle-aged woman with rosy cheeks and golden ringlets. “It’s wonderful.”

  “I’m Greta,” she said, and extended a hand.

  “You’re a siren,” I said. There was no mistaking that voice.

  “I am. I’m careful with my powers in here though. One wrong note and the goods get blown to bits.”

  “Ha! I bet you never hit a wrong note.”

  Greta’s rosy cheeks deepened. “You’re too kind. And you’re right. I have perfect pitch. Do you sing?”

  “Only if I want to hurt someone,” I said with a laugh. “Apparently I’m not very good.” I neglected to say that my dead undead roommate often complained about my efforts when I was in the shower. It was too weird to share with a stranger.

  “I’m sure you have other gifts,” Greta said.

  “I like to think so.” I glanced around the shop. “I’m looking for someone who might be here to make his own glass. An elf named Jim Morton.”

  Greta inclined her head. “Yes, he’s in the back. Nice enough guy. Doesn’t say much, but he offered me a tidy sum to use the furnaces while he’s in town. Who’s going to say no to free money?”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Do you mind if I go back there and talk to him?”

  “Just be careful. Gets hot if you’re too close.”

  “You have lovely pieces here,” I said. “I’d love to come back another time and browse.”

  “You’re more than welcome,” Greta said. “I only moved here recently and was eager to set up shop. I figured Spellbound might be starving for retail.”

  “It’s nice to have options,” I agreed.

  I continued to the back of the shop and found Jim near the furnaces, looking perfectly at ease rolling a ball of glowing light at the end of a magic wand. Okay, he was making glass, but the process was nothing short of magical. He noticed me watching and brightened.

  “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Amazing,” I said.

  “It’s made from liquid sand,” he said. “Did you know that?”

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard my grandfather’s voice telling me about the process. My grandfather loved to absorb random facts and shared them with me whenever the opportunity presented itself.

  “I know the sand has to melt at an extremely high temperature,” I said.

  “That’s right,” Jim said. “I’m making a butterfly for Paige to cheer her up. She has a whole collection, both real and glass.”

  “That’s sweet of you,” I said. “Although I’d think you need cheering up as well. Andrea was your sister.” I moved as close as I dared. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better now that I found somewhere to channel my emotions,” he said. “I find glassblowing to be a soothing creative outlet.”

  “It’s great that you get to earn a living doing something that brings you joy,” I said. I watched as he gathered molten glass onto the blow pipe.

  Jim only offered an enigmatic smile. “Did you really come here to check on my mental state?”

  “You lost your twin sister, Jim,” I said. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. If you’d like to talk to a professional while you’re here, I can recommend someone.”

  “A therapist?” he scoffed.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “I make glass so that I don’t need therapy,” he said. “What could be better than creating something beautiful from something painful.” He rolled the glass back and forth on the smooth surface of the table.

  “I tried harp therapy for a while,” I said. “I found it relaxing, but I just can’t find time in my schedule these days.”

  “That’s understandable with a new baby,” Jim said.

  I leaned my elbows on the table, careful not to stray too close. “Are you and Paige thinking about having kids?” I knew what Paige was thinking, but I was curious to see where Jim stood on the subject.

  “We’re in negotiations,” he said vaguely.

  I bit back a smile. “And which side are you on?”

  “I’m concerned how children will impact our lives.”

  I burst into laughter. “Um, how about in every possible way?”

  “That’s what worries me,” he said. “We already lead such busy lives. How do we fit in children with their needs and desires as well?”

  So Paige was afraid of raising children without scarring them and Jim was afraid of losing his lifestyle. Lots of fear seemed to result in inertia.

  “Are you really that busy though?” I asked. Jim made glass goblets and figurines and Paige collected butterflies. They were hardly in high-pressure careers.

  Jim dropped onto a stool, and his easygoing mask slipped along with his feet. His angular features tightened. “There’s something you should probably know.”

  My radar pinged. “About Andrea’s murder?”

  He tugged on his mop of blond hair. “Not really, but I feel like keeping secrets right now is a bad idea. I wanted to tell the sheriff, but Paige warned me not to. She said it made us look guilty.”

  “And are you?”

  Jim blanched. “Absolutely not. Andrea was my sister. My other half. I loved her.”

  “Then what’s the big secret?”

  He threaded his fingers together. “Glassblowing is just a hobby.”

  I softened. “Jim, don’t let others make you feel bad about your choices…”

  He held up a hand. “No, I mean it’s truly a hobby. It isn’t how I earn my living.”

  “So you don’t have a budget of two million coins?”

  “Oh, that’s really our budget, but I don’t earn it from making glass.” He let go of the breath that seemed to emanate from deep in his chest. “I’m a banker.”

  I reeled back as though he’d slapped me. “A banker?” I didn’t know why I reacted so strongly, probably because it was a jarring change from hippie glassblower to pure capitalist.

  He shushed me. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

  “I don’t understand
why you’re lying in the first place. A banker with that budget is far more realistic anyway.”

  “Yes, but Andrea said we had to lie. Adam believes staunchly that nobody wants reality in their reality television so we had to play the game.” Jim splayed his hands. “I get it. I mean everyone hates bankers. They’re not going to root for me to find my dream home. They’re going to want me to fail.”

  “It was Andrea’s idea to lie?”

  He nodded. “She needed a quick replacement for the couple that dropped out, so she made up back stories for us that would satisfy the viewers.”

  “Us? You mean Paige too?”

  He licked his lips. “Paige is a lawyer.”

  I gasped. “She doesn’t collect butterflies?”

  “She does, but it’s her hobby, like glass is mine.”

  I leaned a hand on the table for support. Jim had blown more than glass. He’d blown my mind. Paige didn’t mention this during our conversation. I guess because she didn’t think her lie was relevant to the murder.

  “Who else knew?” I asked.

  “Adam knew, mostly because Andrea has talked about me to him over the years.” His exhalation sounded agitated. “I think it’s why they argued.”

  “They argued? When?” I knew they clashed frequently, but I wasn’t aware of a specific argument.

  “She hid our addition to the schedule until it was too late to change the lineup,” Jim said. “She didn’t want Adam to know that the other couple dropped out until it was absolutely necessary. He’s not great with change.”

  “Seems like a crazy career choice in that case. Issues must pop up all the time in reality television.”

  Jim chuckled. “You have no idea. Andrea’s told me stories…” He trailed off. “She never mentioned a murder happening though. Hers was a first.”

  “Paige mentioned squabbling over a duck,” I said.

  He frowned. “That was unfortunate. At least they resolved their differences before she died.”

  “And what about you?” I asked. “Did you resolve yours?”

  He fixated on the glass. “Andrea and I didn’t have issues. We were too close for that.”

  “Adam didn’t think so,” I said. “He seemed to think you two had issues.”

  Jim’s surprise seemed sincere. “Honestly, no. Just the usual family dynamics that made holiday dinners uncomfortable but not impossible.”

  “Did she confide in you about Adam?”

  His surprise intensified. “What about him?”

  “That they had the hots for each other.”

  Jim’s cheek pulsed. “That’s not true. Andrea couldn’t stand Adam.”

  “Maybe that’s how she hid her interest in him. By convincing others that she disliked him.”

  “Intensely,” Jim added. “Do you know how many times she’s come this close to quitting?” He held his finger and thumb half an inch apart. “She was like a yo-yo. One day she was ready to move on. The next day she had no choice but to stay. She couldn’t tolerate his controlling behavior.”

  “Maybe she came close to quitting because she had a hard time working with someone she was attracted to,” I said.

  Jim squeezed his eyes closed. “No. I don’t buy it. I’d know if she truly was interested in someone.”

  “Did she confide in you about her other relationships?”

  Jim’s head bobbed up and down. “Skip, Lou, Mark, Pedro…I knew about all of them, even if it was only one disastrous date.”

  “And here I thought Andrea was married to her job.”

  “Oh, she was,” Jim said. “But she also liked to date. I think she was searching for her partner in life and willing to hold as many auditions as necessary. She wanted what Paige and I have.”

  “Did she tell you that?” Somehow I couldn’t see Andrea cozying up to someone at night. She seemed far too cold. Then again, my interactions with her had been limited and in connection with her job. She might have been a completely different paranormal in her personal life.

  Jim rose from the stool and joined me at the table. “Not in words, but I’d see her expression sometimes at holiday dinners. She’d look at Paige and me and get this wistful look.” He paused, remembering. “I recognized that look. It was the same one she’d have on birthdays when we’d open our presents and I’d get something she secretly wanted.”

  “At least your parents didn’t buy the same presents. I could see that happening a lot with twins,” I said.

  “I think being different genders helped with that, not that I condone gender-specific gifts. If Paige and I do end up having children, we’re going to make an effort not to indulge in gender stereotypes.”

  I thought of the glass ballerina I’d been eyeing for Diana and felt a stab of guilt. Was I putting her in a box already? What if she preferred boxing gloves to ballet slippers?

  “Did that happen to you a lot?” I asked.

  Jim shrugged. “It was one of the ways our parents tried to differentiate us so not everything was about being twins. They meant well, of course. It’s just that Andrea would’ve preferred the football and I would’ve preferred the china tea set. I used to pretend I was entertaining clients all the time, so I would sneak into her room and borrow hers.”

  “And is that what you do now as a banker?” I asked.

  “It’s investment banking, so I do a lot of networking,” Jim said. “And I enjoy the finer things. Andrea was more down-to-earth.”

  I surveyed the glassblowing equipment. “Did she have a creative outlet like you do?”

  “She liked to write,” Jim said. “I know she kept a journal. I made fun of her when I saw it because it’s the plainest journal you’ve ever seen. Not a flower or sticker in sight.” He chuckled. “Typical Andrea.”

  “Would she have brought the journal with her?”

  “As far as I know, she wrote in it every night,” Jim said. “I would’ve expected it to be with her belongings.”

  I’d have to ask Sheriff Astrid. Undoubtedly there would be answers to questions we’d been asking in the journal, at least in connection with her personal relationships. If Andrea was involved with Adam or even thinking about it, odds were good that she’d mentioned it in writing.

  “Thanks, Jim. That’s helpful.”

  “I wish I could be more helpful,” he said. “I hate knowing that my sister’s killer is walking around free. If we don’t know why they did it, how do we know they won’t strike again?”

  “We don’t,” I said.

  “Is it possible someone snuck in and killed her? That’s what Paige keeps saying. I’d hate to think it was someone she knew.”

  “It’s doubtful to have been an outsider. Statistics show this was likely a personal matter between Andrea and her killer.”

  “There were only a handful of us in your house,” Jim said. “How hard can it be to figure it out?”

  “You’d be surprised,” I said.

  “Because we all seem innocent?” Jim asked.

  I patted his arm reassuringly. “Sure, Jim. Let’s go with that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Stepping into Glow was like stepping into my past. I hadn’t given my appearance any thought in months, but Mayor Lucy had insisted that she treat me to a pedicure so that we could catch up. Given that I was supposed to be on maternity leave, I could hardly say I was too busy with work.

  “There you are, mama.” Mayor Lucy whooshed toward me, her pink wings fluttering madly. She engulfed me in a hug. “I’m so glad you were able to join me.”

  “It’s nice to be out and about with my arms free,” I admitted. As much I loved snuggling Diana, my arms needed a break every now and again, if only to increase my circulation.

  “How is the little cherub?”

  “You’ll have to come and see her for yourself,” I said.

  “I totally will, but I figured you’d be inundated right now,” Mayor Lucy said. “I wanted to make sure you’re taking time to pamper yourself. After all, you gave birth and
nearly died in the process.” She pinched my cheek. “This sorceress deserves a little toe action.” She stopped talking and scrunched her nose. “That doesn’t sound quite right.”

  “Ladies, come in.” A fairy with orange and yellow striped wings flew over to greet us.

  “Hey, Shaylene,” Mayor Lucy said. “Emma and I have an appointment for pedis. She’s getting the new mom treatment.”

  Shaylene lit up and clapped her hands. I noticed her fingernails had moving images of rainbows. “How wonderful. New mothers deserve to be celebrated.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

  We followed Shaylene to an alcove where there were only three spa chairs. Mayor Lucy took the chair on the end and patted the chair next to her.

  “I requested a semi-private space so we can chat,” she said. “I feel like we have so much to talk about.”

  Shaylene began to fill up the foot spas with warm water. “I’ll be right back with the glitter bombs.” She fluttered off into the main room.

  I made myself comfortable beside my friend. “I guess you heard about the murder in my house.” As the mayor, very little escaped Lucy’s radar.

  “Astrid told me,” she said. “Sounds horrifying. I knew you and the baby would be okay though. I was up in the air about Daniel.” She giggled. “I’m kidding. You’ve got the whiniest vampire ghost on the planet and his hellbeast bodyguard. No one is attacking you in your own home.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way,” I said. “Everyone seems on edge now that Calix is in town. They think he’s come to deliver the plague to my doorstep or something.”

  The fairy shifted to the side to face me. “I’m very keen to hear about this father of yours. I mean, a demigod? That’s amazing.”

  “He seems surprisingly normal, which makes Dr. Hall very suspicious.”

  “That drunken therapist would be suspicious of Daniel for helping an old lady across the road. She’s looking for reasons to counsel you so she doesn’t have to face her own demons. It’s called deflection.”

  “Lucy! Dr. Hall is a licensed therapist. She has a degree and everything.”

  Mayor Lucy grunted. “From Vampire University. I mean, have you ever heard of such a generic institution of knowledge?”

 

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