By Familiar Means

by Delia James

“What’s she doing?” I whispered.

  Alistair shrugged, a long ripple of gray fur.

  “Do you think we should go out there?”

  Alistair hunkered down on the counter, with all four feet tucked under him in what I think of as the “cat-loaf” position.

  “You’re right,” I said. “Let her have some space. But maybe . . .”

  I didn’t finish that thought. Alistair was on his feet, ears and whiskers quivering. “Merow!” he announced, and vanished.

  “What the heck?”

  “Merow!” said Alistair again, and this time the sound came from the direction of my foyer. So did the distinct ching-ching of a bike bell.

  By the time I got to him, Alistair was pawing impatiently at the door. I undid the dead bolt and pulled it open. Jake Luce stood on the porch, bike helmet in one hand and his finger poised to ring the bell.

  “Oh, ah, hey, Anna,” he said, lowering his hand. “I guess you were awake after all.”

  “One of those nights,” I said. “Come on in. What’s happened?”

  “Nothing, really. Nothing new anyway.”

  “Well, come on in. Can I get you some tea?” I led him into the living room and gestured that he should sit in the wing-backed chair. I sat on the curving window seat. Alistair, of course, came with us. Instead of jumping up onto my lap, he circled a few times around Jake’s ankles.

  The offer of tea was reflexive and I tried to keep smiling. I didn’t really want Jake following me into the kitchen, where he could see Grandma at her meditations, or whatever it was she was doing, through the window. With her being so disappointed about not being able to help before, and now Jake showing up out of the blue, I suspected that there might have been more than a personal calming and cleansing ritual going on out there.

  “I’m good, thanks.” Jake set his helmet down on the floor beside him. He also scritched Alistair behind the ears. “I just, I needed to get some air after the cell, and I saw the light on, and I wanted to thank you for everything you’re trying to do.”

  “Thanks,” I told him. “I was worried after this afternoon, well, maybe I overstepped.”

  Jake waved this away. “No. It’s just been hard on everybody.”

  “How’s Chuck holding up?”

  “Not good,” he admitted. “He’s blaming himself for Blanchard keeping the screws on. I wish . . .” He sighed. “Well, I just wish there was some way to get this cleared up, for the kid’s sake if nothing else.”

  “You should try not to worry, Jake,” I said softly. “I’m sure everything’s going to work out.”

  “I wish I was.” Jake was hunched over, his long hands dangling between his knobby knees. “I’m trying to put on the brave face for Miranda, but, man, she’s not buying it.” He took off his glasses and stared at the round lenses. “We’ve been together almost fifty years now. I have never once been able to put anything over on her. And this time, we both know the trouble’s real.”

  I bit my lip. It was impossible not to hear how Jake was cracking apart inside from doubt and worry. I wanted to hug him, hard. I wanted to promise him I’d use every means, magical and non-, to find out what was really happening, so he and Miranda could get back to normal and not have to worry about anything except making sure their coffee beans were certified organic and fairly traded. Unfortunately I couldn’t do any of that, at least not right away. Alistair mewed and jumped up onto the window seat. He shoved his way onto my lap and under my hands so I had no choice but to pet him.

  “Listen, Jake,” I said slowly. “I want to help; you know I do.”

  “There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?” said Jake.

  I nodded. “But I’ve got to ask a really awful question. I mean another one, and I need you to be completely straight with me.”

  Jake rubbed his hands back and forth on his knees. “Okay. Go for it.”

  “Did . . . is it possible Chuck was using you guys as cover of some kind for his pot operation?”

  “What? No. Look, Anna, it’s been a while, but I’ve done some living on the road. You learn fast to tell the difference between the dumb kids and the hard cases. Chuck is a kid and he’s in over his head. And he never once tried to lean on us, if that’s what you’re really asking.”

  “Then is it possible Jimmy tried to lean on him? Maybe Jimmy found out about the attic and demanded a cut, or something like that?”

  Jake pulled back. He rubbed his chin and his neck. He took off his bandana and ran his hand across his scalp and put the bandana back on.

  “No,” he said. “Or at least, if he did, I haven’t seen any sign of it, and we’ve been rapping a whole lot, me and Chuck.”

  I nodded. I believed in Jake as a judge of character. But I also believed a kid who had been blackmailed by a man who turned up dead would find all kinds of reasons to keep quiet.

  “Okay. One more. Did you and Miranda buy the old drugstore to keep the property from being redeveloped? I know you’ve clashed with some of the business community over riverfront development.”

  “Riverfront enclosure, you mean,” he growled. “Riverfront pollution. Do you know how much oil and diesel and garbage from the boats in that marina ends up in the Piscataqua? Do you know how Gretchen Hilde got together with the rest of her fat-cat . . .”

  “Merow!” Alistair glared at him, but Jake was too worked up to notice.

  “. . . buddies and blocked the city passing a living-wage ordinance?” Jake went on. “Not to mention the law on zero tolerance for river dumping and . . .” He clenched both hands. In my mind’s eye I saw Miranda again, smiling up at Rich Hilde and saying there was no bad blood between them. I clamped my mouth shut hard while Jake took a deep breath. I was able to count to five before he let it out, slowly. “I’m sorry, Anna. I’m not being cool.”

  “You just got out of jail,” I reminded him. “You get to be stressed.”

  Jake shrugged. “This isn’t about jail. The cops were actually pretty polite, except maybe for Blanchard.” He shook his head. “Seriously, compared to what we got put through after some of the student protests and stuff, it was a walk in the park. I’d just be shrugging it all off if I wasn’t so worried about what’s coming next.” He flexed his hands, as if he was trying to grapple with something only he could see. “But the answer to your question is, yeah, part of the reason we decided on that location was to stop additional . . .” He froze. “You’re not saying that’s what this is about? You think the Hildes are trying to frame us?”

  Actually, I was thinking that this was a lot to have going on between the hotel and the people Rich was trying to get to be their new coffee supplier. I believed Miranda when she said she was trying to make peace with the Hildes. But what was Rich trying to do?

  I suddenly wondered if Rich was trying to bribe Miranda or distract her. Maybe he thought if he had her concentrating on trying to smooth things over, she wouldn’t see what was really happening. Just like he’d done with Val when his family was trying to deny her opening permits for the B and B.

  “I don’t know anything for sure,” I said out loud. “But if the Hildes were trying to frame you, it might explain why Jimmy’s body had been left in the tunnel with so much money on it.”

  “Oh, son of a . . .” groaned Jake. “I mean, I knew they played hardball, but I never imagined anything like this.”

  “We’ve got no proof,” I reminded him. “And there’re other possibilities.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like Jimmy might have found out that Christine Hilde and Kelly Pierce were planning on selling out to Dreame Royale. I mean, his sister is working for them.”

  “Yeah, but Chuck said those two were totally on the outs.”

  “Still. Maybe Jimmy went to talk to Shelly and saw her with Kelly and Christine or something, and then Christine had to bribe Jimmy to keep him quiet.”


  “Because there’s no way Mama Hilde would sit still for any of her kids setting up a rival operation.” Jake sighed. “Man, what some people choose to do with their lives.”

  I nodded.

  “Oh! Jake! Is everything all right?”

  Grandma B.B. stood in the doorway. Her hair was tousled from the wind and the smell of wood smoke swirled around her. She looked a little flushed. She’d been working magic all right. I could feel the prickle in my fingertips, and I saw the way Alistair’s whiskers quivered.

  “Hey, Annie-Bell.” Jake climbed to his feet. “Yeah, everything’s fine. At least I hope it will be.” Grandma really wanted him to clarify that, but he’d already picked up his bike helmet. “I better be getting back.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got anything more definite,” I told him.

  “Thanks,” he said, and we all said good-bye.

  “What happened, Anna?” said Grandma B.B. as soon as I shut the door behind him. “What did Jake want to talk to you about at this hour? You should have come to get me.” This last she said to Alistair. My familiar put his nose in the air. He also vanished.

  “Jake’s just worried about . . . stuff.”

  “And of course you told him we’re doing everything possible to help.”

  “Of course! But . . .” I stopped. I was having a hard time finishing sentences all of a sudden. “Grandma, you didn’t have anything to do with Jake coming here, did you?”

  “Why should I?”

  “I saw you out back, at the fire circle. You were . . . doing something. Was it a summoning?”

  Grandma B.B. drew herself up, and just like that, my sweet, comforting grandmother was gone, and in her place was the stern-faced woman who could face down hurricanes and hooligans and send them both home to their mothers. “Annabelle Amelia, I am getting very tired of your questioning my judgment.”

  “I’m not, well, okay, I am, but . . .”

  “Merow,” interrupted Alistair, pacing back and forth. But Grandma didn’t let either of us get any further.

  “I am not irresponsible and I know the laws of the true craft. I came here to help you understand your heritage, and now every time I turn around you are accusing me of interfering with people!”

  “I’m not . . .” Except, of course, I was.

  “Maow!” Alistair jumped up on the window seat. We both ignored him.

  “I am aware I have made a mistake,” Grandma said. “I have apologized, and I have paid for it in more ways than you know. I am endeavoring to make amends. If I had known you would stop trusting me . . .” Her chin quivered.

  “I do trust you, Grandma. I just—”

  But she wasn’t listening. “Maybe I really should have left you to Julia.”

  That was when the doorbell rang.

  34

  “What the . . . ?” I stammered. “What now?”

  “Meow!” announced Alistair.

  “Yes, I know, you did try to tell us,” said Grandma to the cat, although she kept her gaze on me. “For your information, Anna, I expect that is Julia.”

  “Why would it be Julia?”

  “Because your grandmother cast such a summoning I’m surprised she didn’t wake the whole neighborhood.”

  That wasn’t Julia. That was Valerie. My neighbor waddled in from the kitchen. She was wearing a powder blue sweat suit with a lavender terry-cloth bathrobe tied over her baby bulge. One of us, clearly, had forgotten to lock the back door. “So,” she said around an enormous yawn. “What’s going on?”

  “Annabelle? Are you all right?” Now, that was Julia, and the dachshunds scampered in from the foyer, yipping and nosing and wagging everywhere. Alistair began washing his paws at them.

  “You know, some people use the phone,” I muttered to Grandma.

  “Yes, but magic doesn’t go to voice mail,” she replied. “And it was time for me to talk with Julia. That’s what I was doing in the backyard.” For the first time she did look a little sheepish. “I didn’t think it would wake everyone up, though. It’s been so long . . . I guess I don’t know my own strength anymore.”

  Julia, leaning heavily on her walking stick and carrying a bright orange tote bag with a publisher’s logo on the front, came in from the foyer. One of us had forgotten to lock the front door, too. It was a good thing the place was magically warded.

  She stopped in front of Grandma B.B. “In that case, I may take it you and Anna are all right?”

  “Yes,” Grandma answered. “I’m sorry to have woken you, Julia. But I am glad you came.”

  Julia blinked and I watched her bite back whatever her initial reply had been. Instead, she turned and set the bag in the one clear space left on my dining room table. “I thought I should bring some breakfast.”

  “It’s four in the morning,” I stammered.

  “Which means we need our stamina,” my mentor replied calmly. “And we can’t leave it all to Roger. How is Roger, Valerie?”

  “Asleep, thankfully.” Valerie eased herself down onto the living room sofa. “But I have to be getting back soon or he’s going to wake up and freak out. So, will somebody please tell me what we are all doing here?”

  “Well,” began Grandma B.B., but right then, my phone rang. I yanked it out of my purse, checked the number, and hit the Accept button.

  “Hi, Kenisha.”

  “What is going on over there?”

  I pushed my hair back from my forehead. “Um, Grandma B.B. called a meeting. Apparently, she used a little too much oomph.”

  It’s amazing. When you know someone well enough you can hear the aggravation even when they haven’t said anything. “Some people use the phone. And wait for daylight.”

  “That’s pretty much what I said.”

  “Right. Okay. So, I take it the world’s not about to end?”

  I eyed Julia and Grandma B.B. They were pulling containers of yogurt and homemade granola out of the tote bag. Julia being Julia had brought the healthy snacks, and bowls and spoons to go with them. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good,” Kenisha said heavily.

  “Um, Kenisha?”

  “Yeah?”

  I took a deep breath. “You should probably know, I’m going to talk to Christine Hilde tomorrow about . . . stuff. Do you want me to tell you what I find out?”

  The pause was long and it was heavy. “No,” she said. “But I think maybe you’d better.”

  “Okay. I will, then.”

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Now I’m going back to bed. I got this feeling I’m going to need my sleep.”

  Something inside me eased. I had been worried about how we left things the night before. Now, despite some perfectly justified grumbling, I knew that our friendship held.

  “Night, Kenisha. We’ll talk later.”

  “Darn straight.” She hung up and I hung up and put the phone back next to my purse to find myself facing Julia and a bowl of blueberry yogurt and granola.

  “Thank you,” I said and took it. I also sat on the window seat. Alistair, of course, immediately jumped up and began nosing the bowl.

  “Down, cat,” I said, which had as much effect as usual.

  “Now.” Julia turned to Grandma B.B., who was sitting beside Valerie and stirring her own bowl of yogurt. “I presume you had something you wanted to say to us?”

  “Yes.” Grandma took a deep breath. I tensed. Both dachshunds took up sentry posts in front of Julia’s toes. Even Val put her bowl down on the coffee table like she thought she might need her hands free.

  Grandma B.B. licked her lips. She set her bowl down and clasped her hands on her lap.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  We all looked at one another. The dachshunds whined in surprise. Only Alistair seemed unfazed.

  “I’m sorry, Julia, that I left you he
re all those years ago. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to find a way to come back. I’m sorry, Anna, that I didn’t obey my better instincts and face the fact that my beautifully talented granddaughter had inherited our family magic.”

  My throat tightened. Julia let out a very long breath.

  Grandma lifted her chin. “I imagine you have a lot of things you want to say about my behavior, so we’d better get on with it.”

  Julia shook her head slowly. “No,” she said softly. “I cannot think of anything I need to say. Well, except perhaps one thing.”

  “Which is?”

  Julia lifted her gaze and met Grandma’s. “Welcome home, Annabelle.”

  I’m not sure who moved first. All I know was that in the next minute, both women were on their feet and my grandmother and her oldest friend were in the middle of my living room hugging each other like there was no tomorrow, with Julia’s dachshunds barking their approval and wagging everything they had.

  I found myself looking out the bow window at the dark street.

  “Merow?” Alistair nudged my hand.

  “Something in my eye.” I sniffed. “And allergies.”

  “Merow,” said Alistair.

  “Yip,” agreed Max. Leo just sniffed around my ankles in case I’d dropped anything interesting.

  “See?” Valerie rubbed her belly. “I told you everything would work out, baby girl. Sometimes it just takes them a while. So,” she went on as she lifted her eyes to the rest of us. “As long as we’re here, why don’t you catch us up with what’s been happening since last night.” She pointed her spoon at me. “And don’t you dare even think about saying ‘nothing.’”

  So we ate, and Julia and Val listened while I told them about my conversations with Kelly Pierce and Dale Hilde. I told them about the discovery that Harbor’s Rest had it’s own private archive, and the phone call I’d gotten from Rich, and about Miranda and her meeting. I may have left out my time with Sean on the beach, but it was already so late it was early, and that whole episode was a little beside the point.

  “What about you, Annabelle?” said Julia to Grandma B.B. “This summoning didn’t come about simply because you wanted to apologize.”