The Dastardly Dragon Killer and the Poisoned Breath

by Kelly Ethan

  “What was all that about?” Theo glared at Xandie, his grooming of his pet imp forgotten in the hunt for gossip.

  Xandie cleared her throat and faced her feline guardian, unsure just how much to tell him. Like everyone else, he thought the case of her missing mother finally solved. Now with the troll P.I’s investigation, the events surrounding her mother looked murky again. Plus, he always worried she’d do something stupid and leave the library without its librarian. “Some troll looking for Sera. He didn’t realize she’d died.” Xandie busied herself tidying scrolls, unable to meet Theo’s gaze.

  “And the rest?”

  “Nothing, like I said. He wanted to speak to Sera about private business.”

  “You’re a bad liar, librarian. Now spill,” Theo hissed and slammed a paw down, narrowly missing Horatio, the imp.

  “Fine.” Xandie threw her hands in the air and stomped to the couch next to Theo. “He was a troll and was looking for Sera. But he’s also a private investigator. Sera had him looking into my mom’s disappearance.”

  “Was it so hard to tell me the whole truth?” Theo sniffed his disdain at her antics.

  “Did you know Sera was investigating my mother?”

  “I know she’s always had doubts about Miranda Harrow’s disappearance. Six months ago, she changed her routine. Would disappear for a few hours at a time. She’d get super-secret phone calls at all hours. I thought she was going senile.” Theo stretched, and then jumped off the chair to pace the floor.

  “What kind of doubts? At the time the police thought mom had run off. What were Sera’s suspicions?”

  “Sera and the Harrows swore Miranda would never leave you. They thought she’d had an accident.”

  “Well, I guess in a way she did. The knight chased her until she fell off a cliff.” Xandie grimaced then stared off into space.

  “So, what’s the problem with this troll guy? You already know what happened to her.”

  “Do we? I explained about the knight, but he said there were still unanswered questions surrounding her supposed death. ‘Supposed,’ Theo, that’s the word he used. What if there’s another reason for her disappearance?”

  “Sounds like you’re grasping at straws. You’re a librarian, act like it. Do your research, this guy could be a scam artist.”

  “Thanks for your feline advice, but if there’s a chance he has more information on my mom, I have to take it. But you have a good point about research.” Xandie leapt up and rapped on the wooden desk. “Library, do you have any information on the company, Trollish Investigations Inc.?”

  A thick green book rattled on a bookshelf near the window overlooking the garden.

  Rushing over, Xandie snatched the book up and rifled through it before exclaiming in victory as she flashed the page at Theo. “See, he’s listed in the top five hundred reputable otherworldly private investigators in North America.”

  Theo snorted. “Doesn’t mean he’s legit. Just means he can tick and flick boxes to appear above board.”

  Xandie slammed the book shut. “I’ve made up my mind. He’ll contact me once the library deposits the rest of his fee. I’m meeting with him.”

  The library’s lights dimmed to a muted glow.

  “See?” Xandie pointed to the roof. “She agrees with me. So, suck it up, kitty cat.”

  The power flickered off and on with a crack and a sizzle punctuating Xandie’s words.

  She rubbed a hand over the surface of the library wall. “Have a nap, library. Theo will let you know if there’s an issue.” Ever since the library had rushed to her rescue the last time she tried to solve a murder, the poor supernatural entity had labored. The massive amount of energy it used to change itself to save Xandie had depleted its inner power core. For now, the library had to nap like an old women woman and fill up its energy well.

  Xandie shooed Theo and Horatio out the door. “Get some rest, library. We need to focus on solving the dragon murder before delving into the troll’s case file. You need to keep your energy up.” She shut the door behind her and sagged against the wood. “Meanwhile, I’m still stuck waiting for Agatha to track down Iris Malone. Argh. One step forward, two steps back.” Just like her life in Point Muse.

  A pounding on her front door shocked Xandie and she jumped and squealed. Grumbling at herself, she stalked down the hallway and flung the front door open. And was greeted by the sight of a morose dragon teenager faking a nonthreatening smile. “Do you need something, Es?” The dragon teen rocked back and forth, hands clasped behind her back. Her long silver and black hair flew out behind her.

  “Hi, Ms. Meyers.”

  Es Penne, plainly on her best behavior, if the fake smile was anything to go by. But Xandie noted silver and green iridescent scales flickered to life in random patterns on her skin. Maybe Es wasn’t a calm as she was projecting. A flash of silver scales surfaced along her jawline. Xandie tried to put her at ease. “You can call me Xandie. Can I help with anything?”

  Es sighed and produced a gold and silver business card. “My father asked if you would meet him and my mother at Mayweather Inn for a drink at midday today. They want to speak to you.” Her fake smile fell away and her normally surly attitude appeared. “I only agreed to ask because they wouldn’t get off my back. So, my job is done. I could care less if you turn up or not.” Es spun to leave but paused for a moment. “My parents don’t do anything without a reason. Especially my father. Be careful what you agree to.” Es strode off and flicked the card behind her.

  Xandie bent down and picked up the glossy card. Adelind and Ronald Penne was engraved in gold-embossed type across the front of the silver gloss card. Ostentatious was the theme. She wondered what the dragon socialites were after. And why did Es Penne warn Xandie about her own parents? Xandie checked her watch. “Only one way to find out.”

  A drink with the social elite of Point Muse it was.

  Eight

  “Why, Alexandra dear. What a lovely surprise.”

  Rose Mayweather’s grimace said anything but. The woman had hated her great-aunt Sera because a demon professor had preferred Sera to her. Aphrodite’s descendant wasn’t the forgive and forget type when it came to matters of the heart.

  “Hi, Rose.” Xandie offered a small smile. She had no clue where the Pennes were, either the bar or the dining room. But she’d bet high society of Point Muse wouldn’t be caught dead in the bar.

  “Are you on your own or meeting your cousins?”

  Silent code for you can’t be meeting a man. “I’m supposed to meet Adelind and Ronald Penne for a drink.”

  Rose coughed into her hand. “Oh sweetie, Adelind would never meet you for a drink here.”

  Xandie produced the Pennes glossy business card. “Es Penne invited me this morning.”

  “Like I said, you won’t be meeting the Penne heir. But good old Ronald is in the bar.” Rose gestured to the frosted door on the left. “He’s sitting in the back, in one of the booths. She turned away but spun back. “Word to the wise, Alexandra. Ronald’s smooth and slick and people always find themselves doing what he wants in the end. Be careful what you agree to.” With a swish of her nineteen fifties style petticoats, Rose sashayed into the dining room opposite.

  “That’s encouraging,” Xandie murmured to herself. She pushed the door to the bar open and blinked furiously, adjusting to the dim lit interior.

  The bar was more elegant than she’d expected from a descendant of Aphrodite. Comfortable, plush leather chairs dotted around plain dark wood and black steel tables filled the room. Muted lighting encouraged an intimate atmosphere without overpowering. Brass pendants hung from the roof and gave the room a metallic cool ambience. Nothing tacky about the bar at Mayweather Inn.

  Xandie headed for the bar and asked for a soda. When facing a smooth operator, impaired senses weren’t the way to go. Reaching for her drink with a nod of thanks to the bartender, Xandie turned and faced the seating area. Scanning for a lone dragon, Xandie nearly threw her drink in
the air when someone tapped on her shoulder.

  “Apologies, Ms. Meyers. I didn’t mean to scare you.” A polished older man offered a self-deprecating smile.

  “Mr. Penne, I take it?” Xandie brushed droplets of liquid off her plain blue shirt. The high society dragon would have to take her as she was. Jeans and a clean shirt were the best clothing she owned nowadays. Business wear had gone out the window after she quit working at her father’s college library.

  “Yes, I am. Would you care to take a seat in the back?” Not waiting for an answer, he nodded to the bartender and strode toward a table in a dim corner of the room.

  “Of course, Mr. Penne, no problem.” Xandie arched an eyebrow and followed. So far, Mr. Penne wasn’t impressing.

  He waited for Xandie to settle into a chair and gestured to the bartender for his drink, taking a long sip once delivered. An obviously expensive glass of red wine for an expensive man.

  Xandie refused to breach their silent consideration of each other. He wanted her here, he could talk first.

  Giving in, Ronald Penne opened the conversation. “You’re wondering why I called for a meeting?”

  “I was wondering why you had your daughter deliver the invitation and when will your wife would be joining us?”

  “Ah, yes, Esmeralda.” The dragon moved his wine glass around the table, transfixed by the glow of red liquid through the glass. “She’s at a difficult age and frankly the only person she listens to is my mother-in-law, Marjorie. But for some reason, you interest her. I allowed her to deliver the message for that reason.” He stared straight at Xandie and smiled, a practiced twist of the lips with an expected outcome.

  One she wasn’t interested in. “And your wife, Adelind?”

  Ronald coughed slightly. “Adelind doesn’t care for the ambience of Mayweather Inn, she’s happy to let me deal with business.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere. Xandie politely refused another drink from the bartender and leaned forward. “And what kind of business are we doing today, Mr. Penne?”

  Ronald glanced around the room and lowered his voice. “It’s about the gallery and Archibald.”

  “You mean the art fraud and black-market scam Archibald Penne and Iris Malone had going on with dragon artifacts?”

  Ronald Penne look surprised at how much Xandie knew. Recovering, he continued, “Yes, I had no clue when Marjorie ordered me to help with the gallery what was happening.”

  “Marjorie ordered you to oversee the gallery project?” Why would Marjorie want all their dragon artifacts on show? Not to mention selling them. Marjorie Penne was cranky, closemouthed and preferred to stay out of the limelight. According to Es, Adelind and Ronald dealt with anything that was social related. So why bring the spotlight to the Penne clan by selling off family artifacts?

  “I don’t understand why she did it. It’s not as if the clan needs money.” Ronald downed his red wine in a long swallow. He flicked his finger for another. “My mother-in-law always has a reason for everything she does. The last few months she’s become erratic. Forgetting things and becoming secretive.”

  Dragon dementia? Wouldn’t Es have mentioned it if Marjorie were losing her dragon marbles? “Are you saying she knew about Archibald selling fake artifacts? Selling the originals on the black-market?”

  He nodded glumly. “I think so. I heard them arguing. Not long before Archibald died. He wanted more money. I had no clue what he was raving about and then he turned up dead.”

  Everyone seemed to have an issue with Archibald, not to mention a motive. Not a popular guy. “You think Marjorie had something to do with the artifacts and Archibald’s death?”

  “All I know is artifacts have disappeared from the Penne hoard. Yet others that have nothing to do with the Penne clan has appeared.” He paused for a sip of his newly delivered red wine. “Some of the artifacts that have disappeared from around town might be in our hoard. I know I saw a pipe in the hoard that isn’t ours. In fact, I think it might even be a Harrow family artifact.” He looked expectantly at Xandie.

  She shrugged. “I have no clue what Elspeth or the others might have squirreled away, but I can ask. Have you told anyone else about this?”

  “Adelind, as she’s the heir, but she doesn’t want to move without evidence.” Ronald looked ashamed for a moment. “I’ve left anonymous tips for the police, but they’re as scared as Adelind is to move against Marjorie.”

  “Iris Malone and Archibald argued before he died. He told her he wanted out. I got the feeling he wanted to branch out on his own. Cut the middle person out. What do you think?”

  “I wouldn’t have been surprised. He was ambitious. And Marjorie has a short fuse.”

  Xandie tapped her fingers on the table. “We now have Marjorie and Iris as suspects.”

  “What about the suspect the police arrested? Priscilla Makepeace? She was found over Archibald’s body. Or so I heard.” Ronald narrowed his gaze on Xandie. “Or do you have other information?”

  Ignoring his question, Xandie posed her own. “Have you heard of any Penne hybrids?”

  Ronald paused for a moment and chuckled. “It’s common knowledge, dragons are incompatible with other species. There’s no way there are any Penne hybrids polluting the gene pool.”

  Xandie wrinkled her nose. Prejudice much? If you ain’t dragon, you ain’t. “What if Melinda Penne had a child. If her mate had some kind of latent dragon DNA? Could it be possible?”

  Ronald Penne drew himself up. Every line of his body bristling with offense. “Dragon hybrids are not possible, especially from a dragon slayer. Marjorie banished Melinda because she refused to give him up. I’m sorry about her death. But there is no way Priscilla Makepeace is her daughter.” Angry, Ronald stood and drained his wine. “I asked you here to help me get to the bottom of Archibald’s murder. You have a reputation for that type of thing.” He sneered the last few words out before continuing, “Obviously it’s beyond your human capabilities—”

  A woman broke through into his tirade, silencing him mid word. “Ronald. I’ve tried to contact you numerous times. But you haven’t answered.” A tall, emaciated, silver-haired woman glared at him.

  Looking flustered, Ronald pasted a smile on his face. “Adelind. I apologize; I was having a meeting with the librarian, Alexandra Meyers. This is my wife, Adelind.” He performed a brief introduction.

  Xandie smiled sweetly. This was Es Penne’s mother and the current heir to the Penne clan. “Nice to meet you, Adelind.”

  Adelind Penne ran her gaze over Xandie’s disheveled brown hair and snagged on her holey blue jeans. Baring her teeth in a perfunctory grimace of greeting, Adelind nodded to Xandie. “Librarian. Esmeralda’s quite complimentary about you.”

  “Hard to imagine Es complimentary about anyone.” Xandie replied with a wry smile. For a moment, Adelind’s face softened at the mention of the pouty dragon teenager before sliding back into bland dragon face.

  “Es can be difficult at times.” Dismissing Xandie, Adelind focused on Ronald. “Belle has been notified. She’ll be flying in for Archibald’s funeral. Please make sure the arrangements are made at the compound for her and whatever playboy she brings with her.”

  Belle Penne. Archibald’s mother. “Will the town be able to attend the funeral? He was well liked.” Surely the killer would be at the funeral. Gloating over his misdeeds.

  “There will be a ceremony at the funeral home followed by a private family one. Details will be forthcoming and—” Adelind squealed mid-sentence and leapt onto a chair.

  The old girl was surprisingly agile. Xandie peered under the table, wondering what had set the dragon off. A high-pitched trill of a pipe had Xandie wincing and covering her ears. A line of gray fur wound its way through the bar. Patrons screamed or jumped on chairs. Xandie lowered hands and straightened as a river of rats charged at her. Skittering nails on wood floors beat any horror movie special effects for maximum effect and impact. A rat launched itself at Xandie as the pack marched pa
st.

  “Argh,” Xandie screeched and joined Adelind on the couch, but at the opposite end to the panicked dragon.

  Ronald had already shifted away from the mass of writhing rodents and used the booth as a barrier. He shoved a chair in the way of the rats. “What do we do, librarian?” he screamed at Xandie.

  “I am not a pest exterminator. Use your dragon kung fu and take them out,” Xandie hollered back. A greyish-white rat with evil red eyes ran up the couch toward her. Without thinking, Xandie shot out a foot and punted it away. Right into the silvery shoulder-length hair of a hysterical dragon.

  The same Adelind Penne, who without a thought, belched radioactive dragon breath at the rats. Xandie gagged as the bitter smell of singed fur and skin hit the back of her throat. The rest of the rats whirled around and scooted out of the bar. Except the one rat that still struggled, entangled in Adelind’s hair.

  “I am so sorry.” Xandie stepped over to the dragon and tried to untangle the rodent but the Penne heir bared her teeth.

  “Ronald,” Adelind hissed her husband’s name.

  Ronald Penne appeared from the side of the booth, and helped his wife down from the couch. He extended a wicked sharp claw and speared the rat. He drew it from its dragon hair nest and flung it on the floor where he stomped on the animal, cracking its back with an audible snap.

  Adelind stormed out without a sideways glance to her husband or Xandie.

  “I told you I saw a pipe in the Penne hoard. Now do you believe me?” He swept a hand over the mess of dead rats left behind.

  “How can a pipe make rats attack us?”

  Now she knew why Es avoided her parents. Xandie wanted to avoid Adelind and Ronald pronto.

  “Are you dense? The pipe belonged to the Pied Piper of Hamlin.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. “He called the rats and lead them out of town? It’s a Brothers Grimm tale. And it belongs to Elspeth Harrow. You need to do something about this before the clan decides you are no longer suitable for your position.” With that threat, he left, picking his way through the dead rat minefield.