Three Rings of Chaos: An Abigail Everlaine Mystery

by Candra Kylar

  Amaris laughed, “You see, Ian? I told you that my little darling would be bitter over our appearance. Some appreciative brat she is.”

  Ian miffed, “Abbie, I heard about Dimples but there’s nothing the spirit world can do. That’s why I haven’t been around.”

  “No fresh insult about how disheveled I look? You’re losing your touch”, I remarked.

  He shook his head, “I wanted to be nice. You have a mirror, you know that it looks like you just got out of an orgy with hairspray.”

  “So I take it you’re not staying?”, I asked him.

  Amaris answered for them both, “We have some serious work to do. I don’t have time to sit around and argue. I also don’t have the skill set you need to find your friend. Sorry for the quick exit, let’s do lunch never.”

  As always, Amaris never gave me the chance to continue the conversation. She had left me and my mother in that small apartment feeling slighted. That was the dark power of a necromancer who didn’t have a care in the world for anyone but herself. A deep sibling bond would never form between the two of us. My mother massaged her temples on the couch and kicked off her fashionable leather boots. The stole from around her neck was tossed on the ground and she looked utterly defeated. I could understand why she was so taken by what my father did. The least he could have done was give her half of everything. It’s not like he needed the money and it would quiet my mother’s initial unrest. His actions became more erratic and I couldn’t make sense of them.

  “I should have known when my book club friends stopped replying to my texts”, she moaned from her vantage point displayed on the couch, “and when I was secretly uninvited to the tenth annual charity gala for...what was it? Blind children? Smelly homeless people who urinate outside of restaurants?”

  “Educational programs at the learning annex two towns over”, I corrected her, “and it was a great cause. Maybe a nice fundraiser would help you get back on your feet. What better way to shove it to the haughty Grant Everlaine than to show him you’re fine without his help?”

  “Do we really need to educate people? Your father was educated and look what happened to him.”

  I sat down next to her, “Terrible comparison. Crestwood could get their own learning annex, you know. I bet you could spearhead the project and show those washed up trophy wife tramps what you’re made of. Be the Holly that shines!”

  “Can you make me some scrambled eggs and a strawberry smoothie instead? I’m too distressed to make any commitments for the greater good right at the moment”, she requested.

  “A mother’s love knows no bounds.”

  I got up to fix my mom the late night dinner that she requested and thought of making some of my own. I had gotten out of the Stedwell house in a hurry and didn’t eat much of the roast Gina had tirelessly looked over. As I started to cook, not with very much skill, I thought about Amaris and what my mother had told me about her. I got that my brother always felt different, that he knew deep down inside he was a girl and was never allowed to show it. I could only guess that my father berated her for it, knowing that her outside didn’t match and possibly using it for leverage against her. A staged death gave Amaris the freedom to transition and then start a life for herself. She could be open about being transgender, about being a necromancer, have a life she could live on her own terms. That should have brought us closer but didn’t seem to. I knew very well what it was like to be considered an outcast.

  “You never told me how my father was able to cast a spell that completely wiped my memory”, I stated as I handed her a plate of unimpressive eggs, “that had to require a lot of power because I never even remembered having a brother.”

  My mother sat up and daintily picked at her food, “You didn’t know Amaris as your brother for very long. The accident happened with my help. Amaris had chosen her name before we did it, told me she was going to Azuris, and she was still so young. I knew she was different from the start. How can a mother not know? Still, I didn’t take the chance to run with her. To take you with us.”

  “So you helped stage a death well enough to convince my father and he wiped my mind...for what reason?”

  “Because he could control the past just like he controls the future”, she replied, “but I had helped him. I knew that if you remembered the brother...the sister...you had, then it would only cause you more pain. You would know just how dangerous your father was.”

  “I came to find that out anyway.”

  She put the plate down, “Yes, but you were spared from the girth of it for a while. Sometimes, Grant would corner me and ask me details about Amaris and how she died. He kept asking why his only son, his hope for a legacy, would kill himself to escape. He never understood why anyone wouldn’t be as ruthless as he was.”

  “Did Amaris often argue with father?”, I asked curiously.

  “As much as she could. Grant had a son he could teach everything to but didn’t want a thing to do with it all. Amaris would just go to the bedroom and study necromancy. Even as a teenage boy with too much money, she had a way of staying unspoiled. Of looking past that”, she admitted, “and I’m so proud of the woman she became. Truly who she was meant to be. I just know that I can’t take any credit for it.”

  “You helped her escape when she could have been killed.”

  “It will never be enough”, she said solemnly, “and I can already see the air of unrest between the two of you. I had hoped you would become so close once you learned the truth.”

  “She doesn’t seem willing to try.”

  “Neither do you”, my mother pointed out.

  I didn’t have time to try with Dimples missing and Elizar thwarting a teen vampire drug ring. I no longer had a guardian spirit on my side and the leads just weren’t coming. Now, I had to live with my mother until she got back on her feet from financial ruin. Things were being added to the mix without my consent, without my attention, and it would soon make me feel powerless. I took in a deep breath and excused myself to the bedroom. I needed a minute to unwind and I knew exactly how to do it. On my phone, Dimples had left several voicemails rambling about whatever topic had taken her interest at the time. I saved a few that almost made me smile and played one now. It was from a month ago.

  “Are you sleeping? Of course you’re sleeping, you have the sleep cycle of an alcoholic soap opera star washed out of her prime years. Aren’t you too young for that? Doesn’t matter, soap operas keep getting cancelled and you have a sugar daddy on the horizon. Did I ever tell you about that time I became a book blogger for strange elven erotica? It was a dark time in my life but cured my boredom. You wouldn’t believe the amount of tentacles being involved. I was highly critical of the degree of sluttitude used in dealing with elven tentacles. Is that even correct usage of lore?”

  I released a laugh and put the voicemail on pause. Just hearing her voice again filled me with a bittersweet feeling. Dimples was alive and real in that moment, here in my apartment, going on like she always did. Something I had taken for granted. I fought the tears that threatened to come up and make me lose it. I would stay positive. I would keep listening and pretend that she was there with me, telling me herself. I hit the play button and leaned against my bedroom door with the phone up to my ear. Just Dimples and I living in the moment, somewhere separate, frozen in time.

  “I searched tentacles used in romance novels online and found that it really is inaccurate. Elves would historically have longer fingers so wouldn’t need tentacles to do their bidding. They weren’t even sea elves, merpeople, for crying out loud! Who the hell wrote this? I’m going back to my blog and trashing this series as ridiculous. Get in an old fashioned flame war with some author who has too much hubris about the use of fantasy themed genitals. I’m fighting the good fight, Abbie, for readers everywhere! Meredith Marble never sank to this level of reality star skankitude. Have you? I wouldn’t think less of you for it, but would be interested in the details. See you tomorrow. Tea time with crayons and judgm
ent!”

  That did it. I dropped the phone and slid down to a seated position, hands on my face, pressing the tears back into my eyes. I had cancelled that tea time because something had come up. Something always came up lately and Dimples saw me too infrequently. We were supposed to be best friends and I hadn’t held up my end of the bargain. I was terrified that we wouldn’t ever see each other again, that she was lost in a world where my magic couldn’t save her. Even worse, I didn’t have anyone to tell. Braeden had his own fish to fry, so to speak, and Elizar was dealing with his own stress. Frankie had enough to worry about with the store and my mother was now penniless and living with me.

  I kept myself together long enough to get in the shower. The hot water would melt it all away as I came up with a plan. Abigail Everlaine wasn’t a quitter and I wouldn’t give up on finding Dimples if there was even a small possibility that she could be found. I had magic at my disposal and a werewolf side that was a force to be reckoned with. In the morning, I would go corner Cecilia and make her squeal her guts out about whatever she had going on. She had a night job, so to speak, and could have found something else out. Even if I needed to bribe her, I would do it to get any semblance of a lead. Any trail was worth following now. I could even stop by Livia’s new haunt and ask her new burnout friends if they saw anything in their illegal travels around town. I didn’t have much, but I sure had leverage.

  My phone had a missed call from Elizar as I climbed out and dried myself off. It was strange that he didn’t stop by, especially considering how chivalrous he had been in the past with his time, but I knew he was in his own hot water. The constant balancing act and demands of his life kept him in a near permanent limbo. I dialed quickly and put his needs to the top of my list for the moment. There wasn’t much I could do about Dimples or the issue in Braeden’s pack and, for the life of me, I had no idea what to do with my mother. This would be something I could handle. An investigation I could actually take on while waiting for a good lead to find my missing friend.

  “I have good news and better news”, he said as soon as he picked up the line, “and both will make your day.”

  “My mother is living with me now and I already have a headache...so anything will help.”

  Elizar chuckled, “Crowded but happy home? A mother’s love is unconditional.”

  “Tell me again how close you are to your parents.”

  He changed subjects, “The insurance adjuster is cutting me a check and I’m staring renovations tomorrow. The better news? I was able to hire a private investigator from Sand Hill to help you cover ground searching for Dimples.”

  “You hired someone else?”, I felt a tightness in my chest as the words came out of my mouth.

  “He didn’t come cheap but nothing of quality ever does. I’m told he has an impressive resume and a good track record for disappearance cases”, Elizar continued, “he will take the northern half near Azuris and you can handle the southern half.”

  “I have no leads. I was just getting started on this and you went out to hire someone to do my job?”, I seethed into the phone.

  “I’m not getting where the anger comes from. This isn’t a one-investigator job, Abbie.”

  I clenched the phone, “No, it’s my job. Dimples is MY best friend. Your investigator from Sand Hill which – by the way – is a real sad piece of suburbia, will just end up getting in my way. How do you know that his methods won’t cross with mine?”

  “I didn’t think of that”, he relented.

  “And you also didn’t think how I would feel that you went out to hire someone else behind my back.”

  “Now hold on, beautiful, before you start to become irrational. This is business. Not your ego or reputation”, he said.

  “Business? No, this is personal to me. Finding Dimples is my responsibility and I doubt another investigator will do any good”, I shot back.

  “You’re blowing this exceptionally out of proportion. This should be good news if you weren’t so bent up on needing an assistant to tackle a difficult task. You used to be diplomatic about those things. Remember invading the vampire court at the masquerade?”, he probed.

  I couldn’t resist my retort, “And more people usually results in me muddling something up. I need to focus and can’t do that with someone else crossing my wires. How could you have so little faith in me?”

  “So little faith? Abbie, I believe in you and your skills as a professional more than anything. There’s no one I would trust more. This has nothing to do with how I view your ability to do something and everything to do with a disappearance case requiring more ground to be covered”, he said curtly.

  I exhaled, “Fine, I’ll concede on that point. Next time, consult me before jumping head first into one of my cases.”

  “You’re beautiful when you’re mad. Come over to my place so we can have fun making up?”

  I hung up on him with satisfaction. He was right about my ego getting in the way, about the possible tarnish to my reputation if it went public, that it was the wrong focus to have. If this new investigator could help me find Dimples then it would be worth any outcome. I had already confided in Trent at the Crestwood Police department and had more than one set of eyes looking out for leads. This was just another path down that road which could lead to the case being solved. I still hated that Elizar ended up being right about something. It was like every time I thought that he was oblivious or had his attention on something else, he came right back to one of my needs. He was on constant vigil for my well being. I didn’t have any right to complain about it but the independent wolf inside of me wanted to assert that this was being taken care of. Alone.

  Another knock at my door had me over the night as a whole. I had enough drama to fill a busy week of my life and didn’t need another visitor. I half expected it to be Ethan with his own things packed and a nose red from crying. He had held Braeden in such high regard and the alpha had let him down in the worst way. Braeden never had a way with words but his anger was entirely misplaced this time around. I dressed in my casual clothes and looked at my mother lounged on the couch in her own sadness. It looked like she wouldn’t be helping around the place any time soon. I rolled my eyes and opened the door to see Cecilia standing there, a few twigs in her usually well tended hair, dirt smudged on her cheek. In her hands was that animal carrier. She forced a smile that was always insincere.

  “I noticed you stalking me earlier and I just know your reputation for getting nosy when it comes to my quiet life”, she shook the carrier, “so I thought about making you a deal. I was going to up the price but, knowing you, I’d get cheated out of it.”

  “Are you saying that I’m cheap?”

  “If the discount ballerina flats could talk for you”, she winked.

  I brimmed with the desire to toss her out, “Now isn’t a good time. Come back with whatever rabid animal you want to pawn off on me tomorrow. At my office.”

  “No dice”, she rolled her shoulders, “this is heavy and he’s been a real pain since we came across each other. Plus, his information is useless to me but priceless to you.”

  “Your animal? Pet telepathy isn’t really a skill that anyone has had success with. You should know that as we sat in the same class about mind travel”, I remarked.

  “He has a voice so you won’t need any magic”, she lifted the carrier, “and he’ll drink you out of house and home. Gods know he cleared me of my top shelf wine. I was planning to gift one of the bottles to Ethan for his engagement celebration.”

  “Why did you think that you’d be invited to that? You tried to kill him.”

  She brushed it off, “Please, water under the bridge. He’s alive, team werewolf now, and every gay boy with good taste loves expensive wines. It’s part of a peace offering for the new Cecilia.”

  “Who generalizes all people and stands outside of my apartment to bribe me”, I finished.

  She looked past me, “Mommy staying over? Yeah, heard the divorce was messy. I und
erstand if you’re in a tight spot financially supporting her so I’ll give you this little critter for 500 gold. A good deal as his information will help you.”

  “How can an animal help me?”

  “Service animals have been instrumental in the development of humans with impairments. Don’t you read any lifestyle articles online anymore?”, she flashed her pearly whites.

  “I don’t need a service animal and I’m not paying you 50o gold.”

  “A shame, as he knows where Dimples was taken”, she turned to leave.

  I grabbed her shoulder and flung her to face me, “How does he know that?”

  “Now I would love to tell you the whole thing myself”, she shook the carrier, “but I kind of need my payment. Going out of town for the weekend on a bender and could use the extra gold to spoil myself. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?”

  “How does he know what happened to Dimples? How will I find out if he’s an animal? Will he scratch a map into the dirt?”

  Cecilia lifted the carrier, “This little fox can speak in our language. Turns out he was a human, pissed off some nasty crones, blah blah blah...now he’s a fox. Permanently. Kind of adorable if he didn’t have such a drinking problem. We all have our vices, though. Is yours still having emotionally charged moments with my ex boyfriend?”

  I held up a finger, “None of your business and you’d better not be lying. You remember what I can do to you and how many friends I have. Last time I checked, only the johns who hire you take your side.”

  “Abigail Everlaine looking down on me from her mighty position of esteem as an unemployed private investigator. I feel truly shamed”, she mocked.

  “Stay right there. My mother is watching you.”

  “Oh, I’m terribly frightened of a washed up socialite who can barely crawl off the couch in her misery”, she whispered then loudly called out, “hello Mrs. Everlaine! Keep fighting the good fight. I hear ice cream and reruns help!”

  My mother buried her head into a pillow, “Go away, Cecilia.”

  “She was always a fan of me”, Cecilia replied with a wrinkle of her nose.