by Jade Wolfe
The little desk under the window was covered with papers - and books. I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures of that, then got a close-up of the Marjorie Happenstance moniker on the spines. Then, holding my camera in one hand, I picked one off the top of the pile and opened it.
Just as I thought, there was a small red dot on the inside rear cover. Bagly’s mark. I took a picture of that, too.
I was contemplating taking one of the books for evidence when I heard noises outside in the hall. I froze and waited, mentally willing whoever it was to go away. They finally did, and I thought I heard the faint squeak, like the kind a housekeeping cart might make. Sheesh – close call.
Two minutes later, my phone blasted out the opening bars of Sweet Home Alabama, and I nearly swallowed my tongue. Pawing it out of my back pocket, I nearly dropped it twice before I could get it to shut up. It was Dad, texting me to pick up milk on my way home. I turned off the phone.
I was so busy looking through the contents of the desk drawer that I almost didn’t hear the key in the lock. Holding my breath, I dived for the window and shimmied out, glad that Pete was on the first floor. Getting to my feet in the grass, I took off running, hoping that he didn’t look out the window for the next five minutes.
By the time I got back to my truck, parked near the courthouse, I was gasping for breath and dialing Dante’s number.
“You’re late for dinner again,” he said when he answered. “Your dad wants to know where you went. He also wants you to get milk – I’m a growing boy.”
I smirked. “I went to catch a murderer, silly.”
“Uh-oh.” His voice sobered. ”Where are you?”
“In town. At the courthouse. Don’t worry, I’m heading home. I just wanted to text you a picture. I’ll explain it when I get there.”
“Hurry up. You’re dad made meatloaf.”
My stomach growled. I ignored it. I was too excited to care about food right now.
By the time I got home, Dante must have been finished eating, because he met me at the door. “Why did you send me pictures of romance novels and a red dot? Is this something you read about in Cosmo? Cause it’s not working.”
I smacked his arm and pushed past him, into the house. He followed along behind me. “Those,” I said, pointing, “Are pictures that I took in Pete Shoemaker’s hotel room.”
He blew out his breath and looked at the ceiling. “Please, please, don’t tell me you broke in,” he said.
Dad was just coming through from the kitchen. “Broke in where?” he asked, but he looked like he didn’t want to know.
“Never mind how I got them. You need to turn Lavinia loose and arrest Pete for murder.”
“You still think Pete killed Jasper?”
“Nope. I think he killed Bess. Bess killed Jasper.”
“What?” both men asked at the same time.
“I think Lavinia guessed right when she said that maybe Pete and Bess were working together. I also think that, when it came down to it, Pete didn’t want to share. Remember that one of the runes said ‘selfish’?”
Dante nodded. “But why these two and not Lavinia?”
“Because the runes don’t fit her. What was her motive?”
“Money?”
I shook my head. “Nope. That was bothering me, too. She did want money from Jasper, but it was for charity. That’s not selfish - that’s benevolent. She didn’t fit the runes.”
“And you think Pete does?”
“Yep. I think he talked Bess into helping him kill Jasper and steal all those books. Then he killed her because he didn’t want to share.”
“But what about the other two runes?” Dante sat down across from me at the dining room table. Dad brought me a plate and I smiled my thanks.
“Delays and locks. Those two are easy. I think he sent Bess in to kill Jasper, then meant to go in and help her drag him out the back door. But he got intercepted by Dwayne - a delay - and they had to make a run for it. They left the door unlocked because they didn’t have time to close it properly.”
I sat back and stuck a bite of meatloaf in my mouth.
Dante pulled out a memo pad and started scribbling things. Then, when he was done, he just sat there looking at his notes.
“Well?” I asked after a while. “Aren’t you going to go arrest him?”
He looked up at me. Then he shook his head.
“Why not?”
He sighed.
“You don’t believe me? I got proof that he has the stolen books. I told you how it happened.... I don’t get it, Dante.”
“The problem is that there are so many holes in this story we could call it a spiderweb. I might believe you, but we can’t use runes to prove it to a judge.”
“Well, I can’t do everything.”
“Why do you think it happened this way?” he asked.
“Because of Bess’s fingernails.”
“What?”
“Bess’s fingernails were all broken off. Lavinia’s aren’t. That dictionary was heavy, Dante. Hitting someone with it would have made it hard to handle.”
He stood up all at once. “Why didn’t you say so? That,” he said, pointing at me with his memo pad, “Is something I can use.”
He headed for the door. “Don’t forget tomorrow night!” I called after him.
I watched him leave, only slowly becoming aware of Sage, hovering at my shoulder. She was watching him, too.
When he was gone, she turned to me. “You know, you could do worse. A little.”
Chapter Sixteen
I sat at the big dining room table, kitty-corner from my dad, and stared hard at the space near the chandelier. “All right, you two. Come here.”
I wasn’t sure they would answer me, much less show up. Then again, I wasn’t sure I wanted them to. This might not be a pleasant conversation, but for my own sanity I needed to have it.
The morning sun filtered in through some sheer summer curtains I’d found in a closet and hung, not long after I moved in here. It was time to change them. Winter was coming fast, and I wanted something heavier to block the drafts. Jason wandered by the doorway and stopped when he saw us.
Still no sign of Mom or Sage.
“What are you two doing?” he asked, looking back and forth between us.
I patted the chair beside me. “Come sit down. You’re part of this, too.”
“Part of what?” He hesitated, then came into the room and pulled out a chair. Now all three of us were looking in the same general direction, toward the center of the room. Jason seemed confused, Dad looked resigned, and I was just anxious to get this over with. “Come out, ladies.”
There was a shimmer near the window. My mother appeared, her arms crossed. “Why are you speaking to me in that tone of voice, young lady?” she snapped, moving over to stand close to my dad. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”
He held up a hand for her to wait.
A moment later, Sage was there, all at once. She popped forward on the other side of the table. “I was busy. This better be good.”
Jason looked perplexed. “They’re here,” I said to him.
“I could tell by the chill.” He leaned forward and studied the air in front of us. He was the only one who couldn’t see the ghosts, and I kind of got the impression that he felt left out.
I turned back to the ghosts. “We’ve got to have some rules around here,” I started.
Sage interrupted me almost immediately. “What rules? I’m a ghost - I don’t have to follow the rules.”
“Yes you do. First, you need to stop scaring me half to death.” I pointed my finger at her.
“Or what?”
I’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask that question. “Just stop it, all right? And leave Jason alone.”
She flickered.
“Yes, he told me that you were bothering him about his decision to join the force. Stop doing that. Don’t hide his running shoes or make him cold when he’s trying to conce
ntrate. And for Heaven’s sake, stop banging his closet door all night. He needs his rest. He’s a grown man. Go harass anyone in town that you want, but let us live our lives.”
Then I turned to my mom. “And you. You’ve got to quit complaining so much. It’s not good for Dad’s health, and it’s not good for my mood.”
“Well, Clover, if you would just -.”
I waved my hands. “No. That’s what I’m talking about - don’t tell me how wrong I am. Dad is just fine, in case you haven’t noticed. I love you, Mom, but I’m not you. I won’t take care of Dad the same way you did. I have my own ways. All right?”
“Your ways are wrong, girlie.” She looked to Dad for backup, but he just shrugged and shook his head.
“Well, they’re still mine.” I wasn’t backing down from this. If I didn’t do something now, we’d all be crazy by Christmas. “If Daddy wants a ham sandwich for lunch, let him eat it. If he wants to go out in the evening air without a sweater, let him. He’s a grown man.”
“And then he’ll get sick...”
“Well, it won’t be the first cold I ever caught, Silvie,” Dad said. “I’ll live. You’ll never know how glad I am that you’re still here with me. I enjoy your company, but not your nagging.”
I slumped a little in relief that he had my back on this.
Jason spoke up. “This sucks. What are they saying?”
“Sage doesn’t want to follow rules, and I think we just hurt my mom’s feelings,” I answered, watching her. She was fading in and out, blending in with the cabbage rose wallpaper that I still hadn’t taken down.
“Grandma, just do what she says. I want to be a cop, and I think I’ll be good at it.”
“You’ll be dead.” She stared at him, even though he couldn’t see her.
I repeated her words.
“Maybe, maybe not. But I’d rather die doing something cool that helps people than sitting around here being bored to death.” He sat up straighter and stared at where he thought she was, which was about twelve inches off. It looked like he was talking to the hutch. I didn’t correct him. It wasn’t important, and it felt good to see him speak up for himself.
“You don’t want me to turn into Cameron, do you?” he asked the hutch.
I winced. Cameron was his one-time girlfriend who had some major issues. It took a while for Jason to see that she wasn’t good for him, but once he did, he started getting his own life back on track. To slide back into that dead end lifestyle would probably be the end of this new and improved Jason.
“I don’t want you to end up dead. It isn’t as much fun as I make it look.”
I told him what she said. He sighed and shook his head. “If I don’t do something I’ll end up like Clover here,” he said to the hutch, but gestured toward me.
“Hey!” I pouted at him.
“If she didn’t keep finding dead people, she’d be bored out of her skull, too.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.
“Hey, maybe I’ll go to the academy, too,” I teased. “You and me can be buddies, Jason. We could have our own squad car.”
He got up and left. We all watched him go, then Dad laughed.
I turned back to the matter at hand. “So? Do I have both your promises that you’ll behave?”
They were both gone.
I put my head in my hands and moaned. “This is nuts.”
Dad patted my shoulder. “Yeah, well, welcome to my life.”
I looked over at him and noticed the lines around his eyes. Always a good-natured man, he still was, but I could see a hint of weariness there, too. What had he put up with for all those years? I knew he loved my mother, but all those years of her and Sage and their headstrong ways must have been quite the adventure for him. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then yelled for Jason just as Dante knocked and came in through the kitchen door.
“Good!” I said. “You’re just in time.”
In time for what?” Dad said, cocking his head. “The party’s over.”
“This party - the real one - is just getting started.” I pointed at him. “Don’t move. Dante, follow me.”
Dante glanced at my dad, grinned, shrugged, and followed me through the door into the kitchen.
I pulled open the freezer door and motioned for him. “Can you get that out and put it on the counter? I’m afraid I’ll drop it.”
He came over and I backed out of the way. When he saw what I was talking about, he let out a low whistle. “Who did you find to make that?” he asked. “And how much did it cost?”
He was talking about my dad’s birthday cake. It was an ice cream cake, but I’d gotten someone from Alexandria to make it in the shape of a typewriter that looked just like his blue one. “Don’t ask,” I said, backing out of the way so that he could maneuver the thing. It barely fit in the freezer, and with just the four of us here, I thought we might be eating cake for the next six months.
Of course, with both Jason and Dante here tonight, I could be wrong.
I grabbed a knife from the cutlery drawer, but I didn’t really want to cut the cake. It was too pretty.
“Aww, they used M&Ms to make the keys,” Dante said, pointing. “That’s adorable.”
I rolled my eyes. He never used words like adorable, which meant he was teasing me. “Shut up.” Then I texted Jason to get his butt downstairs to sing the Happy Birthday song.
He met us in the dining room, where he looked around for clues that Sage and Mom were still here. “They’re gone,” I said. He relaxed visibly.
Dad was still sitting where we left him. We sang Happy Birthday and then Dante slid the cake across the table to him. He grinned at it, then us. I nodded to Jason, who left the room.
“This looks just like the one...” Dad started to say, but Jason interrupted him with a huge box.
“Like that one?” I asked. “Open it.”
He did it in his usual way - slowly. When he peeled back the last layer of paper and opened the box, he just sat in his chair and stared at it for a moment. Then he looked at the cake, and eventually, me. “You found it,” he said.
I gave him a hug. “Well, that part wasn’t exactly hard - it was right where you left it.”
He laughed. “Bagly never sold it?”
“Nope,” I answered, coming over to give him a quick hug. “I call that fate.”
“Fate?”
“You need to write your book.”
Dante grunted. “Writing a whole book on that thing might be considered torture, not fate,” he said.
I shot him a look. “It’s symbolic.”
“Well, I hope he never falls in a lake with it,” he asked, looking the typewriter over dubiously.
Jason laughed. I reached to whack him on the arm and missed.
Dad pecked at a few of the keys and smiled at the clackety sound. “It is symbolic,” he said finally. “And I will write that book.”
I squealed and clapped my hands. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Jason left and went back into the living room, bringing in a much smaller box this time. When Dad opened this one, he laughed. “You guys thought of everything.”
I grinned and pointed to the shiny black laptop. “You have no excuses. Dante and Jason are about to set up your desk now. Where do you want it?”
“Nuh-uh,” Dante protested. “I’m hungry. I want cake first.”
“You’re always hungry,” I huffed. “Fine. Eat first.”
“Well I’m not going to start the book tonight, anyway, Clover,” Dad said. “Leave those boys alone.”
We were eating our way through the QWERTY when I caught a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye. Mom was back. She looked at us and the cake, smiled at me, and quietly disappeared again.
I took that to mean that she approved of the party, at least. Maybe talking to her had an effect, after all.
Later, as Dante was leaving, he stopped at the door. “I’ve been thinking about what Sage said,”
he told me quietly, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Dad and Jason weren’t listening. “I think I’d like to explore this magical stuff a little more thoroughly.”
I blinked. I’d forgotten all about that. “Oh. OK. Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “I won’t know until I check it out for myself.”
“Just keep in mind that the folks here in town will call you weird.”
He laughed. “They already do - I hang out with you guys.”
“Good point. OK, let me know if I can... you know, help, or whatever.”
As I watched him climb into his truck and back out of the driveway, I couldn’t help but wonder if this whole thing was going to get us into trouble. I could barely understand my own magic, much less use it effectively. How was I going to help Dante?
Then again, what was the worst that could happen?
Chapter Seventeen
The phone rang and startled me so that I smeared stain up to one elbow with the sponge I was using to apply it. I used the other elbow to answer it - once I crawled across the carriage house floor to where it laid.
“You were right about Lavinia,” Dante said. His voice was muffled. I used my vaguely clean pinky finger to turn the phone over.
“She didn’t do it, Dante.”
“I know. That’s what I’m saying. We released her this morning.”
“Good.” I was glad. That poor woman had been through enough in the last couple of weeks. I couldn’t imagine how terrible she must be feeling.
“Yeah, well, Ben doesn’t think so. She’s suing the city and the police department.”
I whistled. “Ouch.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, your photos helped me get a warrant to search Pete Shoemaker’s hotel room.”
“Oh, yeah? Cool.”
“Not cool. The books were gone.”
I sighed. “Drat.”
I didn’t say what I was thinking - that if Dante had just listened to me in the first place, he would have caught Pete red-handed. Dante looked away, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
