“This James Bond crap is actually a thing?”
Phineas was beside me on the couch, leaning close to look at my screen. “It seems so.”
“So someone broke in and put that in Wulf’s toy.”
Wulf, who was now nesting in the blankets and pillow Phineas had tossed on the floor to make room for himself, wagged his tail at the mention of his name. But I was frowning down at the remains of the blue rabbit.
“No, actually, I don’t remember buying that. So they put that toy, with a recorder inside it, at the bottom of his basket.”
“It seems so,” Phineas said again.
But I couldn’t believe it. Okay, maybe I hadn’t been at the top of my game since I found Bella’s body, but surely Wulf, at least, would have noticed someone breaking in.
Wulf had been gone, though, chasing after Phineas. And I’d been in bed most of that time. I guessed it was possible, but I still had a hard time imagining someone coming in while I was home, and me not even noticing.
The whole thing was creepy. But then, the circumstances of my week had already gone so far beyond creepy. Comparatively speaking, this seemed like a silly thing to freak out over.
There was a small USB slot in the side of the FourSpy Mini. I plugged it into my laptop and double clicked on it, like it was any other drive. For a second, I actually thought something was going to happen. The drive hummed, and a window opened up.
But it was completely black, except for a little green dialog box. The username was already filled in: JBEGOOD. The cursor flashed in the password box below.
I tried a few things, at first relatively reasonable guesses. Anagrams of the username. The names of various artists who’d covered “Johnny B. Goode.” Lyrics from the song. When none of that worked, I moved on to childish spite and frustration: iamaspyingasshole, enemyofdecency, scarybirdsarescary. Eventually, after too many tries, it locked me out.
“Dammit!” I said.
“What difference does it make?” Phineas asked.
I stared at him. “You don’t want to know what they were getting from us?”
“We do know. We know what we’ve been saying.”
“But how much of it did this pick up, with all those toys on top?”
“I think the more important questions are who did it, and what were they looking for?”
I stared at the Mini for a few seconds, then smiled up at him. He raised an eyebrow at me, apparently questioning what made this such a smiling occasion.
“No,” I said. “The more important questions are when are they coming back for it, and how do we make sure we’re here when they do?”
While we waited for the spy to show up, we kept working on Bella’s sisters. The closest thing we got to a lead was that somebody in Phineas’s world might or might not have seen Henrietta Traven at the Library. Something about the way Phineas said the word conveyed that it was a proper noun.
“You only have one Library?” I asked. “Like in your whole world?”
“Well, it’s a very small world, compared to this one. We only have one formal Library. And it’s different from yours.”
“But it’s a place where there are books.”
“Yes, and we can borrow them, so it’s the same in that respect. But it’s also our equivalent to school, and it has a few other official functions as well.”
“So if Henrietta was there, it could have been to look something up, but it also could have been for something else.”
“Most likely research, but it might have been to meet somebody, or even to do some intelligence gathering. The Head Librarian officiates our government meetings, although he has no voting power of his own.”
“Do you think it was really her?”
Phineas shrugged. “Hard to say. On the one hand, she would have been noticeable. The Traven sisters haven’t been home in years and years.”
“But on the other hand, they haven’t been home in years and years. People might not remember them accurately enough to be sure of who they saw.”
“Exactly.”
He still had some people he worked with looking into it. But given the differences in time, we didn’t expect to hear anything right away, even if somebody in his world did know something.
I left a few messages, trying to track the Travens down via normal human channels, and hoped for a break every time my phone rang. But the only calls I got were from Charlie and Warren, and one from Evan Brent, the date I’d stood up on account of finding a mutilated body in the parking lot. He wanted to reschedule. I let him down gently, while Phineas tried not to look like he was either listening or glowering. Even though he was totally doing both. Which was interesting, but not something I had the mental or emotional resources to examine just then.
Phineas did an evocation ritual that produced no results apart from a candle burn on the carpet. And we couldn’t send Wulf after people who were strangers to him.
That left us nearly, but not quite, out of options.
“We need another library,” I said. “Martha’s. Come with me tomorrow for Sunday dinner at Charlie’s. He wants to meet you anyway. We can talk to Martha after. And you can visit Max.”
“Is Charlie a good cook?”
“He was forced to learn after I moved out. It was shaky at first, but he does pretty well now.”
“And you’ll bring dessert?”
“I will.”
“Done.”
Either Phineas or I, if not both, had been in my apartment ever since Wulf found the recording device. I didn’t like the idea of leaving and possibly missing the culprit. So on Sunday morning, Phineas made some goop that he said would protect us from break-ins, out of honey and a bunch of herbs. Then he did a ritual to energize, or magicify, or whatever it was you did to such things to give them special powers. But I’m not going to lie, I was a little skeptical. I’d had occasion to learn that magic wasn’t Phineas’s strongest skill.
Still, I spread it around the windows and doors. I double and triple checked all the locks. That might be good enough to keep humans out, but our enemy was not human, and had broken in on us unawares before. I sent Phineas out for some iron nails, and scattered those around all the entry points, too.
Hoping that would do it, we packed up Wulf and a couple of pies, and headed over to Charlie’s.
The smell when we walked in more than supported my claims about Charlie’s cooking. Wulf sniffed greedily at the air for a few seconds before Warren, with barely a greeting tossed my way and the briefest of acknowledgments of the introduction to Phineas, took the dog out to the yard to run around and play some ball.
“Is that sausage I smell?” I asked.
“Lasagna.” Charlie kissed my cheek. “Is that pie I see?”
“Banana cream.” I handed it over and pointed a thumb over my shoulder at Phineas. “Phineas.”
Charlie started to extend his hand, then hesitated, like he was uncertain whether Phineas would know what to do with it. Phineas flashed his lopsided smile as he reached out to shake.
“Where’s Norbert?” I asked.
“He’s upstairs finishing some work. He’ll be down soon. This new job has him a little stressed, is all.”
At first I was glad when I heard that Norbert had left his last job, which was basically snooping on people’s online habits. Until I found out that his new job was snooping on an even wider range of habits. As far as I could tell, his entire day was spent spying on his new company’s employees, and what they were doing with various company-provided devices. But since said employees totaled over a million, I could see how that would keep him busy.
I’ll admit to a little nervousness about how things would go. I’d been in a lot of dangerous situations with Phineas, on top of his being from another world. And Charlie wasn’t exactly known for being supportive of my supernatural activities. Then there was Norbert, who was a little too supportive, at least for Charlie’s taste. Add in that Warren, now almost nine, picked up on a lot of things that once
went over his head, and I thought it might make for a tense dinner table.
I needn’t have worried. Everyone got along great. As far as I could tell, Warren had no idea my guest wasn’t human. Norbert and Phineas had similar senses of humor, and spent most of the meal laughing at each other’s jokes. Charlie seemed in a lighter mood than I’d seen him in for a long time. There’d been a rocky patch with Norbert not long ago, but judging by Charlie’s return to good humor and his willingness to be charmed by Phineas, I guessed that was behind them.
Warren was getting too old to be read to before bed, but Phineas did funny voices too well for my nephew to pass up. After three chapters of a story about aliens saving humankind from vampires (or maybe it was the other way around, it was kind of hard to follow), Warren was asleep and the rest of us were headed downstairs for more pie, more wine, or both.
“He’s a great kid,” Phineas said when we’d settled back in the living room. “You guys are doing a good job.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty well adjusted for being on his third dad with no mom,” Norbert said.
“Hey,” I protested. “He has an Aunt Mom.”
Charlie laughed as he refilled Phineas’s glass. “For someone who’s not even from this world, we must be pretty strange specimens. Bet you’ll have some stories to tell back home.”
Phineas shook his head. “I’m hardly one to judge strange families.”
“Why’s that?” Norbert asked.
Phineas glanced at me, then tried to soften the blow with one of his trademark smiles. “I have a cousin who’s a serial killer.”
I gaped at him. “He’s your cousin? You lied!”
“I did not lie,” Phineas said. “You asked if he was my brother. He’s not.” He shrugged. “Anyway I figured it was time to tell you now, before it did seem like lying.”
“If you ask me, it seemed like lying six months ago! And how cowardly of you, to tell me in front of people you know I won’t kill you in the presence of.”
“What’s this all about?” Charlie asked. And just like that, Fun Charlie was gone and Disapproving Charlie was back. Damn his paranoid-yet-oddly-accurate instincts. I didn’t want to get into it. I’d told him nothing, or next to nothing, about Amias, and this didn’t seem like a good time to start.
“Just a little work issue,” I said. “Speaking of which, we need to go visit Martha for a bit.”
“Because she can help with this issue?” Charlie asked. “Martha seems like a desperate measure.”
“None of you give Martha enough credit,” said Phineas, with a definite edge in his voice. Martha had helped him recover from a grave injury a few months before, and he’d become protective of her. “She’s very talented.”
Charlie and Norbert both looked at him like he’d just stripped naked and started to disco. Except without any of the laughter that might accompany that shock.
I sighed. “We’re trying to find someone. One of Phineas’s kind.”
“Surely not the serial killer,” Charlie said.
“No.”
He glared at me. “But is what just happened one of these serial killings? You told me you just happened to find the body, but you didn’t know the person. Please tell me you didn’t know the person.”
“I didn’t know the person,” I said. “Belinda Palmer was her name, didn’t you see it in the news?”
He ignored the question. “But this work issue has something to do with her. And Phineas’s cousin. It was not a coincidence.”
“Her body may have been left as a warning for me.” I said it as quietly as I could, but that didn’t stop Charlie’s bald spot from turning red.
“More likely to taunt us,” Phineas added, which did not help.
Charlie got up and started pacing. “You can’t stay in that apartment,” he said. “You’ll have to move back in here. Wait. No, what the hell am I saying? You have to stay away from here. If some otherworld psycho is after you, I don’t want you around Warren at all. You should know better than this, Lydia!”
“We have no reason to believe he wants to attack Lydia,” Phineas said. “If he’d intended her to be the victim, he could have gotten to her already. I think he just wanted to send a message.”
“Well, you’ll pardon me if I’m not willing to risk my son’s wellbeing on your best guess!” Charlie snapped.
Norbert stood up and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Charlie—”
“No, he’s right,” I interrupted. There was no point in letting this get between them.
Phineas was also right—Amias hadn’t made any move on me, and toying with me instead was way more his style—and I guess that’s why it hadn’t occurred to me that I was putting my family in danger.
But there was someone spying on me, for fuck’s sake. Now that Charlie mentioned it, it was pretty damn unconscionable that I’d go anyplace where my nephew was. I stood up, and Phineas, the last one sitting, followed suit. I pulled the FourSpy Mini out of my pocket.
“One question before I go.” I handed it to Norbert. “You’re a spy. Have you seen one of these before?”
“Spy is too interesting a word. I’m a snooper.” He turned the little black rectangle over in his hand and shrugged. “You can order stuff like this online at dozens of places. Anyone could have one. Where—” He cut himself off, clearly not wanting to ask where I’d found it in front of Charlie. But it was too late. Charlie had already doubled his glaring efforts.
“Okay, I’m going,” I said. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll call you when this is over. Tell Warren I love him. And if the school needs anything, I’ll tell them they need to call you instead of me.”
I’d intended to leave Wulf there, chewing his bone by the fire, while we visited Martha, but a complete exit seemed to be in order. We were traipsing across the lawn between the houses when Charlie came jogging toward us.
“Lydia!”
I handed Wulf’s leash to Phineas, and they continued on to Martha’s while I stopped.
“I have to protect Warren,” Charlie said.
“I know.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you. You really shouldn’t stay in that place.”
I shrugged. “I’ll see what I can figure out.”
“Be careful, please.”
“I’m always careful.”
“Nat said the same thing. But he wasn’t as careful as he thought.”
I flinched.
“Sorry,” Charlie said. “Maybe that was a low blow.”
I shook my head. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I know this puts a lot of stress on you. And I didn’t mean for W—”
He cut me off before I even finished saying Warren’s name, and I knew him well enough to know it was so he wouldn’t get mad again. “You’ll find a way to keep in touch and let me know you’re okay?”
“I’ll get one of those disposable phones. So if anyone’s watching my regular one it won’t be associated with you.”
Charlie nodded, turned to go, then stopped and gave me a hard hug. “Be really careful,” he whispered in my ear.
He didn’t have to tell me. I’d seen Bella Traven’s body.
I was jumpy when I got to Martha’s. If it wasn’t safe for Charlie to be associated with me, it wasn’t any safer for Martha and Max. When nobody responded to my knock, I took it upon myself to walk in.
Wulf was on his back on the living room rug, enjoying a belly rub from Max while Jack Nimble, once my dog’s mortal enemy, licked the top of his head. Wulf barely even thumped his tail for me.
“How are you, Max?” I asked.
“The spiders won’t come into Martha’s house,” he said. “They don’t like the cat.”
Max had been buddies with a lot of spiders, the last place he lived. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “Do you miss them?”
“Not really. Jack Nimble tells me more than they ever did. The lady in the blue house down the street goes jogging in the morning, but she doesn’t actually jog.�
�
Having lived in this neighborhood not too long ago, I’ll admit to being distracted by this bit of gossip. The lady in the blue house was Jenna Sergeant, and I couldn’t stand that bitch. “No? What does she do?”
“Kisses the man in the yellow house behind hers.”
I didn’t think I knew the man in the yellow house. I made a mental note to text my friend Amy about it later. I wasn’t above a little fifth grade behavior now and then.
“Where are Martha and Phineas?” I asked.
“Kitchen,” said Max. “Can I watch a movie?”
“I don’t see why not.”
I left him with the remote and went into the kitchen, where I found Phineas helping Martha make tea. There were already three mugs laid out on the table, with a plate of some sort of cupcakes in between. It was too late for tea and cupcakes. I suddenly realized how tired I was. We’d have to make this quick.
Martha smiled at me. “Did you see the sky?”
“Um. When? Today?”
“Of course not.” She laughed. “Two nights ago. There was a comet.”
“Really?”
Martha nodded. “It portends good fortune.”
“Well, that’s good. I could use some.”
We explained our situation to Martha over tea. I told her this was the last time we’d be visiting her and Max for a while. She waved off the danger in her usual fashion, but she didn’t argue.
“We may be going on a trip anyway,” she said. “Max wants to see the ocean.”
Phineas and I both agreed that Max would love that. We split a cupcake (chocolate chip and pistachio, which was very tame for Martha) while Martha told us she had plenty of spells for finding lost things, but lost people were trickier. She went up to her library to look for something, and I took the opportunity to pour my gross tea down the drain. When she came back, it was with a stack of books and a smile.
“I think your best bet is honeysuckle,” she said.
We spent half an hour going over possible spells. I didn’t have much hope for any of them. Usually Martha was reliable—or at least her sources were—but it seemed we’d stumbled upon an especially tricky area of magic.
Crook of the Dead (The Adventures of Lydia Trinket Book 3) Page 2
