The Infiniti Investigates: Hattie Jenkins & the Infiniti Chronicles Books 1 to 5

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “Millie,” I said, nodding towards the door. She nodded back and got ready to open it.

  Jet took one hard sniff, went impossibly limp and glassy-eyed for a few seconds and then yelled, “Yeeeeeeeehoooooooow!”

  Millie barely had time to open the door before he bolted out. As she closed it, she gave me a pained look and said, “Much as I hate to agree with Gloom…”

  “You know, and I know, it’s the only way he can ever get past his agoraphobia,” I pointed out. “Let it go, Millie.”

  She did, and for the next hour, that foot traffic she was talking about managed to provide us with enough customers to keep us busy. In what seemed like an eye-blink later, just as an Unawakened customer was walking out, Jet darted through the crack of the closing door just in the nick of time. He was up on the counter before the doorbell stopped jingling.

  Giving me a comical salute with his forepaw, he said, “Jet of the Lemniscate reporting for duty, ma’am!”

  Millie sighed and buried her face in her hands. Ignoring her, I asked, “You find him?”

  “Beachcomber’s shack, bad shape, Glessie west coast,” Jet said. “Still got enough juice to take you straight there.”

  I noticed that he was shaking. It was a side effect of him being outside all day. Catnip could only take the edge off his fear so much.

  “You sure you want to do this now?” I asked with more than a bit of concern.

  “Either we do this now while I’m still zipped enough not to care or we don’t do it at all,” Jet replied, his rapid-fire voice unexpectedly grave.

  I sighed. “Okay. Let me grab my broom, and I’ll follow you out. Millie, you can mind the store while I’m gone?”

  “Can do it in my sleep,” Millie said as she walked behind the counter. Come to think of it; I HAVE done that a time or two.”

  “Umm, Hattie,” Fraidy said, emerging from the corner he’d been peeking around earlier.

  I stifled another sigh as I asked, “Yes, Fraidy?”

  “Could I, uh, you know…come with you?”

  “Well,” Onyx said, sounding impressed. “Isn’t this an interesting development?”

  I was as shocked to hear Fraidy ask to do something that brave as I had been to see Portia Fearwyn walk through my door moments earlier. This was definitely turning into a day for the unexpected. Once I found my voice to speak, I asked, “Why would you even want to, Fraidy?”

  “You remember that oath we swore to Lady Bast all those months ago?” he asked me.

  It’s not like I could forget. It had been a condition to get him to come with me to help solve the murder of Nebula Dreddock, a famously vain actress who was dreadful enough to make Druida look like a rose garden.

  “Well…I know that I didn’t do much to try to protect you when we were investigating Spithilda’s murder, but I was scared, you see? But I never really formally ended that oath and I’d like to restart it now.”

  He gulped, cautiously lifting his little paws, taking tiny steps like he was in a minefield. “So…I figure that the oath should still apply when you’re going to dangerous places.”

  “You make it sound like she’s going to Tartarus without a guide,” Millie noted.

  “Well, it's much worse than that!” Fraidy's voice trembled as panic strained his vocal chords. “Haven’t you heard about all the Strands stash houses that are on that part of the coastline? What if the Stranded start organizing? You know, like babbling zombies that take to the streets, trying to tear out the hearts of the Unstranded?”

  He stood on his hind legs, his front legs extended in front of him in a mock zombie walk. I stifled a chuckle. He had no idea how funny he was.

  Then, making a visible effort to calm himself, he took a breath and said, “Still, I’m even more scared of breaking my oath or something happening to you, Hattie. So…?”

  I was genuinely touched. “Sure, Fraidy. Between the two of us, we’ll keep the Stranded Heart Eating Zombie guys at bay.”

  “Well, let’s not get too confident just yet,” Fraidy said, wincing at my bravado.

  I kissed his head and soon we were both on the broom following Jet from the air.

  Of course, when it comes to Fraidy, his courage has some severe limits. Artemus Caves and I had just gotten our introductions to each other out of the way when his fear finally got the better of him. My host blinked hard as he saw my cat run straight from the door to hide, rather unsuccessfully, behind a walking stick leaning against the wall. Although a strip of about one inch of his body was concealed, my fretting furry friend felt hidden enough to settle down for a much-needed break.

  Raising an eyebrow, Artemus (as he insisted I call him) asked in his basso profundo voice, “Does he...?”

  “Every time,” I said with a sigh.

  A smirk tugging slightly at the right side of his mouth, he said with an ironic flourish, “Well…enter freely and of your own will.”

  I glanced back quickly to check that Jet was on his way home as I stepped into the slightly beat-up shack. I didn’t see my zippy cat, but I saw a trail of dust he’d left in his wake, so I was happy.

  The wear and tear on the walls of the cabin suggested that it had been crafted out of driftwood. There were some touches of white paint here and there, but it had long since been worn away by the sea air. What I could make out of the wall shelves in the kerosene-lit interior was row upon row of battered books and strewn papers. I could feel a couple of drafts through the rough-shod floorboards as I walked over to the tea table, which had an ancient laptop open and ready for business.

  My host was a striking contrast to his surroundings, to say the least. He had a long round face that reminded me of Stan Laurel of Laurel and Hardy fame, right down to his oddly shaped eyes and half-moon smile. He had a bit of stubble on his cheeks, but I chalked that up to him not getting around to shaving in a few days, as opposed to a look by design. His naturally curly hair seemed to have traces of auburn coloring in them. His clothes, which consisted of a polo shirt and dress slacks, appeared to be a bit faded but were clean and well pressed. While he was relatively easy on the eyes, he lacked that dreamboat, authoritative quality that David had in spades.

  “I happened to be brewing a bit of tea when you knocked on my door, Ms. Jenkins,” he said politely, getting the chair for me like a 19th century gentleman. “Would you care for some?”

  “Is it green tea?” I asked as I took my seat.

  “Of course,” he answered. “It’s my working drink. Specialty teas are for equally special occasions and people.”

  “Sure, I won’t take too much from—“

  “Nonsense,” Artemus said with a wave of his hand. “I have this appalling habit of making much more tea than I can drink anyway. I will enjoy having no wastage.”

  “Then that would be lovely,” I agreed.

  Another quick smile came and went as he went to check the kettle. Satisfied that all was in order, he bent down to where Fraidy was hiding and asked, “Would you also like something, Mr. Fraidy Cat?”

  “Wait, how did you know I was here? And, how do you know my name?” Fraidy asked in alarm.

  Artemus seemed a bit taken aback by this. “Your name actually is Mr. Fraidy Cat?”

  “Just Fraidy,” my skittish kitty admitted, seeming to relax a little under Artemus' kind words. “You…wouldn’t happen to have a bit of milk, would you?”

  “Just a smidgen that hasn’t gone bad yet,” Artemus said, spacing out his fingers to show how much. “Would that be enough?”

  “Only if you drink a little of it first,” Fraidy insisted. “Nothing personal, just…”

  Artemus laughed at my cat’s paranoia but indulged him just the same. Five minutes later, we were all enjoying our respective drinks in a comfortable, friendly silence. The quiet was broken only by the sound of crashing waves on the nearby shore. Given the hustle and bustle that was part of my regular workday, sipping tea by the seaside with such a gracious host was a relaxing break for me.


  “Now, I know the standard line is that you just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Artemus said. “But, seeing as this is our first meeting and that this area of Glessie is one that anyone with sense would avoid, I think we can dispense with that piece of fiction, don’t you?”

  Given what Fraidy and I had seen from the air, I knew he wasn’t lying about why being around his neighbors was a bad idea. “I need your help,” I admitted, putting my teacup down. “You were recommended to me by a source I absolutely trust.”

  “Who, might I ask?” Artemus asked, folding his hands in front of him.

  “Portia Fearwyn.”

  The look of familiar dread pierced his eyes at the mention of the name. “That…that is someone I would not have expected to recommend me, or anyone else for that matter, for anything. Still, Lady Fearwyn is someone I very much respect and admire myself.”

  “You didn’t do her wrong once upon a time, did you?”

  “Oh, good Bran, no,” Artemus said. “I doubt that this entire area would have any human habitation if I had. But I did seek out her advice on my first book and she was actually quite cooperative in making sure my details were accurate.”

  “That’s what I need right now,” I said, leaning in a little. “Accurate details on how to counter the Strands of Araby psychosis. I’m hitting brick walls on proper treatment for the condition. I'm sure you've heard by now that we have an epidemic on our hands and the Coven Isles' facilities are fast filling up.”

  Artemus, to his credit, didn’t ask any more questions. He just nodded and went to his paper-strewn shelves.

  “This could take some time,” he said as he was looking. “Do you need to be anywhere in a hurry?”

  “Consider me free for the rest of the day,” I said, getting up from my seat. “This is too important not to make time.”

  I realized that I was echoing David’s words from earlier. Well, that didn’t make what he said any less true…or Trew, I guess.

  “Well said,” Artemus declared. “You’ve just invoked every working writer’s credo, in fact. Here.”

  He pulled a pen from his pocket and extended it to me while his other hand dug through the papers. I took it and asked, “What about paper?”

  “That is actually the other thing I am looking for in addition to the relevant notes,” he said, not turning his gaze from the shelves. “It is my great paradox that I always have something to write with but never anything to write on. If you’ll give me a moment…?”

  Artemus rustled around the shelves a little while longer, but he finally found both items he was looking for. As he handed the notes and paper to me, I heard a sound that resembled the ocean surf in its rhythm, but that wasn't it. That’s when I realized that Fraidy was snoring.

  “Never thought I’d see the day when Fraidy could feel this safe in a place, that's foreign to him. Especially given the neighborhood. Um, no offense.” I said.

  “Well, I do my utmost to make this place as a secure a haven as I can for all within,” Artemus said. “Maybe that’s what he honed in on.”

  I shrugged. It wasn’t that important to dwell on. I was just glad that my kitty was giving his nervous (and I do mean “nervous”) system a break.

  Time passed quickly, much as it had at the shop. Grandma Chimera always remarked on how when I got really interested in something, I could focus like no one’s business. Maybe that was why I loved running the family business so much. The herbs I dealt with on a daily basis were never anything less than fascinating.

  That fascination indeed applied to Artemus’ notes. He’d even made a point of giving points of origin for each herb he was looking into along with where on the Coven Isles they could be found. I made notes on all the promising ones, including properties and approximate location. I looked up, and I realized that it was nearly sunset.

  “Oh no,” I said, getting up from the table. “I didn’t realize it was this late.”

  “It’s the way it goes sometimes when you find your rhythm,” Artemus noted. “Do you have everything you need from my notes?”

  “So far as I can tell,” I said, picking up the stack of papers to fold them. “I’ll have to do some cross-checking with some sourcing I got earlier today, but—”

  A freaked-out meow rang out. “Oh, my Goddess! What time is it?! Was I poisoned?!”

  With a sigh, I turned around and said, “It’s alright, Fraidy. Time just got away from both of us, that’s all.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he snapped. “You didn’t drink possibly poisoned milk.”

  “Actually,” I said, realizing that I needed to be clever to calm him down. “I did. I put it in my tea.”

  “Oh no,” he whined. “That means the poison’s slow-acting and it’s probably going to be painful when it finally finishes us off.”

  “So, don’t you think we should get back to the shop?” I suggested. “I know a really good universal antidote that should take care of us when we get there.”

  While we were talking, Artemus was doing his best not to laugh at the latest installment of the ongoing drama that was Fraidy’s life story.

  “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense,” he said, coming out from behind his slim cover cautiously.

  “Well, I’m ready to go anyway,” I said, putting the papers in my purse. “So, shall we?”

  Fraidy nodded and then nervously looked at Artemus. “Umm, look…even if you did wind up fatally poisoning us…thanks for the milk. It was the best-tasting poison I could have hoped for.”

  “My pleasure, Mr. Fraidy Cat,” Artemus said with a grin that looked like it was two seconds from dissolving into an uncontrollable laughing fit.

  I thanked Artemus for the notes and the tea and promised that I’d get back in touch if I needed his help. Seconds later, we were in the air. I could have sworn that I heard that laughing fit from the shack as we got above tree level.

  I stepped from the bathroom in my robe with a towel wrapped around my head. Nothing like a good hot shower to help you recover from a long and absolutely crazy day.

  “If I wind up dying from this poison—“ Fraidy muttered from his usual hidey-hole of expensive yarns under the bed.

  “Which you won’t,” Gloom growled from the other side of the bed. “You drank that antidote with Hattie when you got in, right?”

  “Yeah, but don’t you want to hear my last will and testament in case I don’t make it?”

  “I’d rather have jumped in the shower with Hattie.”

  “Here is what is likely going to happen by tomorrow morning,” Onyx said patiently, looking down from his own perch on top of my bed. “You are going to wake up. You are going to realize you are not dead. You will conclude that the poison acts even more slowly than you realized and be in utter dread of that alleged fact for the next week.”

  “You’re forgetting the possibility of him running into something else that scares him even worse,” Gloom added.

  “So I am,” Onyx said with a nod in his sister’s direction.

  I was getting into my sleepers while they were talking. “Where’s Jet?” I asked.

  “Downstairs with Carbon tonight,” Onyx answered. “My suggestion…I want him to eventually overcome that fear of wide open spaces the same way I hope that my dear skittish brother under the bed overcomes his fear of everything.”

  Carbon was my pyromaniac cat. He could raise the temperature of your immediate environment just by tapping his paw. Or, make already lit fires roar and crackle by the same subtle mechanism. His favorite place was by the fire or Maude Dulgrey’s boiler in the basement of the mortuary. Jet was probably roasting downstairs right now, poor guy.

  “So you figure that you’d start him off with sleeping in the slightly less wide-open kitchen,” I concluded, giving my hair a toss to make sure I’d gotten all the water out of it. I was picturing both Jet and Carbon curled up together by the hearth of the no-doubt, blazing fire.

  “And once again you prove yourself to be a natural at the detective ga
me,” Onyx said, the smile evident in his voice.

  Gloom grunted less enthusiastically. “Still don’t see why you paired the feline version of Speedy Gonzalez with our resident pyromaniac.”

  “Well, all who are present here would do very little to help our brother’s condition. Sleeping with Fraidy in his cashmere fortress would only reinforce Jet’s agoraphobia, Midnight is out on his prowls, Eclipse is disinterested, as you can see,” Onyx waved his paw over to the chair in the corner of the room, where Eclipse’s legs were dangling like limp spaghetti over one of the chair’s velvet arms. His ears were twitching to dream cat and mouse games.

  “And, Shade,” my head guy concluded, “is otherwise absent.“

  “You mean, romancing his current favorite,” Gloom interjected. “I’m just glad that they don’t do that here or I’d never get any sleep.”

  “Well, the more everyone talks, the less likely I’M going to get any,” I said, turning down the sheets. “So, if the family meeting is over for the night…”

  “Fine by me,” Gloom said as I snuffed out the candle on the nightstand.

  “Would it kill you, for once, to say ‘good night’?” Onyx asked his sister, while he stepped aside of my leg as they went under the sheets.

  “What’s good about what could be my last night on earth?” Fraidy piped up before Gloom could answer.

  “The fact that I’d never hear your hypochondriac whine ever again,” Gloom said.

  “Gloom,” I grumbled, as my eyelids pulled heavily shut.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m done.”

  I felt a rough kitty tongue lick my cheek as its owner settled in beside my head. “Good night, dear Seraphim.”

  For once, hearing Onyx say that name didn’t make me angry. I pulled him into me, and he snuggled his warm head under my chin. I loved the weight of him on me. The day’s toll finally over, a warm and loving bundle of fur in my arms, I was asleep inside of a minute.