by Pat Esden
Chase grimaced. “I’m sorry, Annie. It was him. Genies enjoy a lot of things humans find disgusting.”
Kate got up from her chair. “More unpleasantness, that’s just what we need.” She squinted at me. “You do know not to say anything about this to anyone?”
“Of course,” I said, a touch sarcastically.
“In particular,” Grandfather raised his voice above Kate’s. “We must all act as normal as possible around James, even if we notice the genie’s personality coming through. Understood?”
I understood that perfectly well, but I also understood something else, which was as noticeable as the polar bear in the foyer. They still weren’t telling me everything. For example, they hadn’t mentioned the shadow in the gallery—and I was certain Olya hadn’t kept that tidbit to herself.
And until I had a better idea what was going on, wise or not, I was going to keep the few secrets I had to myself—like what I’d discovered about the gallery and Mother.
Besides, could I even believe they were telling me the truth about genies?
CHAPTER 17
He who does not ask will not find answer.
—Fortune Cookie. China Wok
Port St. Claire, Maine
The first thing I did when I left the study was head for the solarium. It was quiet and peaceful, the perfect spot for undisturbed thinking, and I suspected Selena would pop in if I went back to my room.
I made it through the foyer and out onto the terrace without running into anyone, but as I opened the solarium door, Laura raced up behind me.
“Great. I found you. We’re not having a formal dinner tonight, so your aunt Olya’s invited you to have supper in their apartment. I’m taking everything up right now. I could use an extra pair of hands since Tibbs is with your father.”
I forced a smile and said, “Great.” Crap. Family night with Selena, Zachary, and their witchy mother was the last thing I had time for. But I couldn’t refuse to go. I’d look like a total ass, and Selena would never talk to me again.
“Hurry,” Laura said. “There are homemade French fries and onion rings. They won’t be any good if we let them go cold.”
I shouldered my bag. “Sounds wonderful.”
Once we got to the kitchen, Laura handed me a tray of condiments. “You take this. I’ll get the cart,” she said. Then she walked straight toward a wall.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what she was doing until she pressed a small red button and the wall slid open to reveal an elevator and a waiting cart, loaded with covered dishes and drinks; then it seemed obvious. An elevator made sense for such an enormous house. And if there were other elevators, it might explain how people vanished and appeared with such ease, though I hadn’t come across one when I’d searched Kate’s study.
I took a deep breath as Laura bustled into the elevator and waited for me to join her. A couple of years ago, Dad and I’d gone into an old warehouse to bid on a storage unit. We’d gotten into a rickety freight elevator and the only lightbulb had been burned out. I’d totally freaked. If this elevator was as dark as that one had been, there was no way I could hold the tray and reach for my flashlight. And this time Dad wasn’t here to talk me down.
I craned my neck to get a good view of the interior.
Light glistened off steel and mirrored walls. Nice and bright. Not at all like the nasty freight elevator.
Making sure I didn’t sideswipe anything with my bag, I squeezed in next to the cart. As the doors closed, the mouthwatering burger-joint smell coming from the covered dishes made my stomach rumble, as loud as Selena’s had done the other day.
“Sounds like dinner isn’t coming any time too soon for you,” Laura said.
“It does smell wonderful,” I admitted.
She beamed at me and began fussing with the linen napkins. I stared up at the ceiling and waited for the elevator to stop. Although the elevator didn’t make any noise, my stomach felt like it was being yanked toward my toes, so I knew we were moving upward.
A suspicion nipped at the back of my mind and I let my gaze drift downward, along the shiny walls to the carpeted floor. I couldn’t figure out what it was, but something about the elevator’s design felt off.
I glanced up at the ceiling again to check if it was abnormally low. It didn’t appear to be.
I scanned the buttons to check if the number of floors I assumed Moonhill had matched the number of stops. Basement. Kitchen. Second floor. Third floor. No hidden lower levels or secret stops between floors.
Laura tapped one of the covered dishes. “There’s a special treat in here. Blueberry cobbler. It’s your uncle David’s favorite. He just got home, but I’m sure he’ll be joining you for dinner.”
Fear rushed through me and my mouth dried. David was supposed to be off tracking down the ring. If he’d already acquired it, then it seemed like Grandfather or Kate would have said something instead of spending so much time looking at the inscription on my phone. Damn it. Something was wrong.
I put on a cheerful voice. “It’ll be nice to meet him,” I said. To hell with secrecy, I’d obey Grandfather and not say anything to Selena or Zachary, but I’d straight-out ask David what had happened. This wasn’t good. Not at all.
A moment later, my stomach stopped rising and went back to where it belonged. The elevator clunked and the doors whooshed open, revealing the alcove near my room.
As Laura pushed the cart into the hallway, a thought struck me. It wasn’t connected to the ring and didn’t seem connected to my suspicion about the elevator but, with all the mysteries going on, perhaps it was. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” I said.
“Go right ahead, dear. I’d be happy to help, if I can.” Laura sounded willing, but she blinked like someone who was preparing to lie if need be.
“Zachary said the jars on the mantel in Kate’s study are filled with cat ashes. I wasn’t sure if he was making up a story or not, and I don’t want him to think I’m totally gullible.”
Laura laughed. “Zachary is all boy. But this time he’s not pulling your leg. In fact, until a few months ago, the brass vase containing your grandmother Persistence’s ashes was up there as well. But personally, I’m more comfortable knowing she’s resting in the graveyard now.”
My fingers gripped the condiment tray so tight, my knuckles went white. The fact that Grandmother’s cremains had been put in a similar jar and placed on the mantel next to the cats’ made it even easier to believe that Dad wouldn’t have questioned if the ashes were Mother’s or not, even if he didn’t believe the story about how she’d died. Poor Dad. Poor Mama. What had happened to her body? An overwhelming surge of emotions crashed over me: love, fear, sadness, anger. How different all our lives would be if none of the lies had been told, and especially if Mother hadn’t died.
I paused for a second to settle my nerves and free myself from thoughts of what could never be, then I hurried a couple of steps to catch up with Laura.
The apartment was at the end of the hallway, like Olya had told me. It was huge, the size of a New York City penthouse, with pillars dividing a formal living and dining room. A gorgeous crystal chandelier hung down from an ornate tin ceiling and the tall windows revealed a view of the crescent-shaped hill and the ocean to the south.
The furnishings were as amazing as in the rest of the house, but here they reflected a love of the Empire period, and someone’s obsession with silver tea sets and eggs: marble eggs and jeweled eggs and amazing eggs painted with intricate designs, displayed in primitive carved boxes and under glass domes.
Olya raced out from an open doorway. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said to me. “Come, David’s dying to meet you.”
Making sure nothing toppled over on my tray, I followed her and Laura through the open doorway and into a basically normal den with cushy chairs and a big couch, a jumbo-size television and a computer desk. And a fish tank full of what appeared to be leeches. I bet Tibbs avoided them like the plague.
A man I assumed was David and Zachary sat on cushions around a low table. It looked like it belonged in a Japanese restaurant, except on top of it was an antique checkers-like board game.
Zachary pointed at the game. “See what my dad brought back from his trip. Sweet, huh?”
His dad gave me crisp nod. “Glad you could join us.” With his polo shirt and white shorts, it appeared as if he’d just come back from playing tennis. But the sling on his arm, the fresh cuts and bruises on his face told another story.
“Um—I’m glad you got home fine,” I said. No one else was mentioning his injuries, so I didn’t either. I set the tray down and casually went on, “I’m guessing you didn’t find what you were looking for?”
He ran his hand down the sling and studied me as if deciding whether to answer or not. Finally, he relented. “Actually, I did. I haven’t seen it yet, but it’ll be arriving here later this evening.”
Relief flooded through me. “That’s fantastic. Thank you. Thank you, so much.” I stopped for a heartbeat, tempered my joy, then continued more discreetly, “You didn’t happen to find out where my father got it?”
Before he could answer, Zachary interrupted. “The game’s called Petteia. I can show you how to play, if you want.” He waved one of the game’s pebble-like pieces for me to see.
Frustrated, I gritted my teeth. “Not right now. Maybe later.”
“Achilles and Ajax played it during the Trojan War.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I think it’ll get me extra credit from the Professor. It’s so cool.”
Olya began helping Laura unload the covered dishes. “Cool or not, you have to put the game aside for supper.” She patted my arm. “Selena’s bedroom is around the corner. Do you mind telling her dinner’s ready?”
“Sure,” I said. I looked back at David and jumped in with both feet. “A friend of mine told me it was . . . Ah-umm. Was it stolen from the Met?”
Zachary’s eyes bulged. “What? My game?”
David’s lips locked together as tight as if he’d sealed them with superglue. Just when I was a hundred percent sure he wasn’t going to answer, he said, “Don’t worry, your reputation is golden. It wasn’t taken from there—or from anywhere else, at least in the last hundred years or so. It most definitely isn’t a forgery, either.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said.
His brows lowered and he gave me a disapproving glare. The message was clear. Sure, part of him was glad to meet me. But the other part wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily. I’d screwed up, big time. And, for that matter, Dad had too.
I dipped my gaze to show him I was sorry. When he didn’t say anything to indicate forgiveness, I looked back up. He’d turned away and was taking a sip of his cocktail. Yup, I was on his shit list for sure.
Leaving him behind, I went to tell Selena dinner was ready. I found her lying on her four-poster bed, listening to something on her iPod. When she saw me, she took her ear buds out. “Hey, I was looking for you a little while ago. Where were you?”
I shrugged. “I went for a walk.”
“Is that all? Zachary told me you were at the mausoleum, and not just about the break-in.” She rolled her eyes. “You and Chase, again?”
“Zachary’s lying, unless the other thing he told you was about the dead sheep Chase found.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Didn’t hear about the sheep.” She swung her legs off the bed and lowered her voice. “We need to find you a crush-worthy honey, and fast, like tonight.” She wiggled her fingers so I could see her freshly painted nails, the same shade of red as my vintage spikes she’d wanted to borrow. “The movie theater is having an after-midnight showing of Zombie Bride Reanimated. Everyone’s going to that, then to a beach house. It’s going to be epic.”
“Sounds like fun, but I’d fall asleep before the movie even started.” I wasn’t sure what Selena was up to, but I didn’t have time for it.
Olya’s voice came from the other room. “Supper’s getting cold, girls.”
I stepped toward the door, but Selena leapt from the bed and snagged my sleeve. “Not so fast,” she said in a hard whisper. “Me and you need to have a little talk first.”
Startled by her change in tone, I pulled free and stepped back. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? You didn’t see my father? He just got back from a family business trip. He almost died this time—and it’s your father’s fault. If your father hadn’t deserted the family, my dad wouldn’t end up doing everything on his own. It isn’t fair.”
I blinked at her, trying to make sense of what she’d said. Maybe my dad was responsible for her dad getting hurt this time, but that didn’t seem to be what Selena was talking about. I suspected she meant family business trips in general, and I also suspected it wasn’t my dad or me that she was really pissed at.
I lowered my voice. “I’m sorry about your dad. But what’s really going on?”
She sank back down on the bed, her face in her hands. “My parents don’t give a crap about what I want to do with my life. All they want is for me and Zachary to take over their precious business, like little clones. Now they’re talking about not letting me go away to college at all.”
The strength of her dad’s disapproving glare came back to me and my heart went out to her. “You need to stand up to them. What they’re doing isn’t right. It doesn’t even make sense. Most parents would be thrilled if their daughter wanted to go to college, especially for medicine.”
Selena lowered her hands, and a sly grin replaced her look of anguish. “If your father got better and stayed—or if you didn’t desert the family like your father did. If you stayed, then you could join the business—and I could go to college.”
I folded my arms across my chest. No amount of moodiness or bullying or guilt was going to make that happen. Once Dad was better and I knew the truth about Mother, I was out of here—even the hots I had for Chase wasn’t going to stop me.
In a dizzying rush, the bond I’d felt when I looked at my ancestors’ gravestones crashed over me, how all those people from Dad’s tales—the treasure hunters, the pirates, the agents for the Vatican, the advisors to kings—centuries of Freemonts had felt real, and I’d felt a part of them. What harm could a little fib do? At a minimum it would make Selena feel good. At best, I might learn something more about the family.
I drummed up my own sly smile. “Who knows, I might stay. It’s kind of hard to say. I mean, I’m not even sure if the family is still into salt mining or if funding the archeology digs is just for charity or if there’s profit involved.”
Selena’s smile widened into a wholehearted grin. “We buy and sell stuff, pretty much the same as you and your father do. Some of it has to do with archeology, some of it doesn’t, I guess. I really don’t know much about it, except sometimes Dad goes to some dangerous places. They mostly treat me like a mushroom. You know how the rest of that goes.”
“Yeah, they keep you in the dark and feed you shit.”
Selena nodded. “Exactly.”
“Girls!” Olya shouted. “You have one second.”
She rolled her eyes again. “We better get going.” She slung her arm over my shoulder and pulled me into a half hug. “Sorry about the bitch attack. It’s just”—she hesitated for a second—“when Dad got home, he didn’t say a word about what happened to him. He just started ragging on me about acting responsible and crap. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t come home.”
I hugged her back. I could tell she didn’t really mean that.
All through dinner my mind kept wandering from Selena’s dad to my dad and genies, to what exactly a normal family’s business trips might entail: probably not dangerous trips to exotic places, archeology, and supernatural mysteries. It actually sounded more intriguing than being an appraiser.
Luckily, no one noticed I was only half paying attention. Not that they ignored me, but they were busy talking about family things: whose turn it was to clean the leech tank, the new curta
ins Selena and Olya had bought in Bar Harbor, Zachary’s chipped tooth. As Olya served up the blueberry cobbler, I sat back in my chair and watched. It was freaky how they simply didn’t talk about the weird stuff and how much they looked like a normal family—or at least what I thought a normal family should look like.
Olya made a joke and I laughed along with them wholeheartedly. Then I sank back into my chair again. More than anything, watching them made me want to see Dad, but not like he was now. I wanted my old Dad. I wanted to eat chocolate doughnuts in the Mercedes and drink coffee laced with brandy. I wanted to talk with him about my career plans, about the legacy, and if I could afford to take a Sotheby’s course this fall.
The trouble was, if I didn’t personally do something, I might never have my old Dad back. Sure, I believed Grandfather, Kate and even David would try to help him. However, I was also certain they wouldn’t risk their own security to do it. But if I could crack open their Pandora’s box of secrets, find out what had happened to Mother, then I’d have a bartering chip and could make sure they did their utmost to help Dad. Then, I’d have hope.
And just maybe, if I was really lucky, I could even discover how to help Dad on my own.
CHAPTER 18
Caterpillar to butterfly, grapes to wine, dusk to dawn, all things transform. All things end and return to their beginning.
—Inscription on Amulet of Transmutation
Once dinner was over, I excused myself and went back to my room. If I was going to crack open their box of secrets and find my bartering chip, I needed to get going.
Since a hot bath always helped me think, I filled the tub and climbed in.
Within minutes, my shoulders relaxed. The steaming bathwater cleared my head, and I let my mind wander through what I already knew. Grandfather had told me quite a bit about genies and the djinn. And I’d discovered a lot about my mother’s death.
