by Sandy Wright
A pause. "Orenda. I did some work for a Renard Orenda."
"Bella's mother," I said. "Did you make a piece of furniture for her?"
The silence went on for so long I began to wonder if he had hung up. I pulled the cell phone from my ear and looked at the display. The call seconds had ticked to forty when he finally replied. "Are you familiar with my work?" The voice on the other end had changed from brusque to downright suspicious.
Now it was my turn to pause, thinking quickly. "Not exactly, but..."
Jaco Hunsley cut off my explanation. "I think it would be best if we finished this conversation in person. Come by in an hour."
"I don't want to inconvenience you," I began.
"You already have," he replied. "I want to see you in person." The line went dead.
Frowning, I turned to Rumor. "Could I borrow your car while you finish shopping? Pick you up in a couple of hours?"
She looked concerned. "Of course. But, Sam? Be careful. I mean it."
* * * * *
I looked around Jaco Hunsley's family room, with hardwood floors and cathedral-shaped wall of windows framing the forest outside, thinking this looked like the house of a man who loved both wood and the outdoors.
Hunsley was an older man, early seventies maybe, with wavy white hair nearly long enough to look unkempt. His eyebrows, also white, bushed in all directions over brown eyes under wire-rim glasses. Despite his age, his posture was perfect, and his six-foot plus frame carried not an ounce of extra weight. He wore an old apron, powdered with sawdust, over work pants and a denim shirt, the sleeves of which he had rolled up to his elbows. His handshake was firm, his hands covered with nicks, calluses and dried glue.
"I'm a bit of a mess," he said. "In the middle of a project at the moment." He arched his snowy eyebrows at me in question. "Care to see?"
I nodded, so he dusted his hands on his apron and led me to his workshop in a separate building behind the house.
The area was a model of organization. Chisels, rasps, routers and awls hung on the wall, all immaculately cleaned and oiled. In the center of the room stood a gigantic wardrobe with beveled mirrors on each of the double doors. Hunsley ran his hand lovingly down the side of the piece, stopping to inspect a small flaw partway down the side. "Cherry wood."
"It's beautiful."
"Yes, it is a lovely piece." He stepped back to appraise. "In fact, the wood is so nice I have barely had to buff. Just one small nick to even out. Usually the wood tells me where to put its secrets."
It seemed an odd statement. Hunsley looked at me carefully, weighing my reaction to his words. I felt it crucial not to give away the fact I had no idea what he was talking about. Instead I played along. "So you work with the flaw?"
"I can't always," he replied, running his hand again over the tiny nick. "But in this case, a compartment entry could be nicely concealed from the outside."
"A secret entrance?"
"Everyone has secrets, hidden compartments within themselves, if you will," he said softly. "Why should furniture be any different?" Abruptly, he crossed the room to his workbench. Obviously, he was finished sharing personal information.
"What are you working on here?" I asked, looking at the pieces of beautiful curved wood propped on drying stands on the bench.
"One of my favorite commissions," he said. "Guitars."
He held up the half-finished body of the guitar up for me to inspect. "Indian Rosewood, my preferred medium for instruments."
The piece was stunning. It appeared he was in the process of wetting and forming the wood into the curved shape of the side of the guitar body.
"How long does it take to make one?" I asked.
"About three months. The French polishing itself can take several days. I'm going to add an inlaid wood rosette around the sound hole and vine inlay in the fret area, so this one will take a while." He pulled a cigarbox from the shelf, opening it to show me the wood and colored shell pieces inside. "The rosette will be ebony and blue paua shell."
He stared at the guitar, flexing his hands, as if restraining himself from reaching for it to begin work.
"But I digress," he said, turning to me. "You came to ask about a specific piece, did you not?"
"Yes, I did." He seemed nice. Surely he would be willing to help me. "I'm interested in the piece you made for Renard Orenda."
Again I watched the transformation as Jaco Hunsley's open and kindly demeanor changed. He simply closed up, crossing his arms in front of his thin chest. "An exquisitely tricky piece for a rather formidable client." He cocked his head down to peer at me over his glasses. "Did you say how you are related to Mademoiselle Orenda?"
I shook my head. "I'm not related to her." Then rushing ahead, "But I am studying with her grandson, Nicholas." I looked at Hunsley with all the sincerity I could muster. "I am inquiring for him."
He took my arm politely and led me back to the front door.
"Young woman, I don't know why you are here, but I am quite sure it is not on an errand for Nicholas Orenda." His expression stern, almost menacing, not at all like a helpless old man. "In all the years I have been associated with the family, I have never known any of them to ask for anything from anyone."
He opened the door to let me out. "You give him a message. If he has questions concerning his grandmother's custom furniture consignment, he should come and ask me himself."
I gave him an apologetic smile and stuck my hand out. He had the grace to shake it before he closed the door, leaving me standing on the front stoop.
Driving down the hill to pick up Rumor, I still a bit stung at being kicked out, albeit politely. On the other hand, I found a clue. Somewhere in the house was a piece of furniture that held a hidden compartment.
Chapter 32: Lilith
The change of plans couldn't have gone better if he'd orchestrated it himself, Nicholas thought as he and Lilith got into his car to leave. Samantha was upset, but he would deal with her later. "Could we have dinner?" he asked. "If you have no other plans for this evening."
Lilith looked surprised but nodded.
He turned off the forest road and headed west, not toward Sedona, but to Jerome. "I think tonight's dinner should be a special affair," he said smoothly. "I have just the place in mind."
* * * * *
"Nice choice. Are you trying to impress me?" Lilith looked around the candlelit room. "I've always wondered about this place. People say it's haunted."
They sat on the enclosed balcony of The Asylum, a restaurant in Jerome's Grand Hotel, so named because it was a miners' hospital, which also housed a mental ward.
Nicholas stared moodily outside at the breathtaking view down the mountain, wondering how to broach the topic of her old boyfriend.
"Nicholas?"
Directness would probably not be the best tactic. He turned away from the dark mountainside and gave his guest a slow smile, looking first at her lips and then sliding his gaze up to her eyes.
"It is haunted." He crossed his arms on the table and leaned in toward her. "I stayed here when I first arrived in Arizona. I woke up in the middle of the night and my room was freezing."
She shrugged. "So?"
He moved closer, brought his lips to her ear and breathed softly before speaking, noting with satisfaction when she gave a little shiver. "It was July, hot as hell, and the windows were open." He leaned away from her, again pleased when she inclined toward him, as if an invisible gossamer string attached them. "I woke to hear someone crying and moaning next to the bed."
"So you weren't alone?"
"There were no other living beings with me." He dropped his gaze again to her lips. "As I said, the hotel is haunted." He leaned in again. "But if you don't believe me, I could book a …."
Nicholas let his comment hang between them while the waiter uncorked their Shiraz, pouring a bit for him to sample.
Lilith slipped off her shoe and worked her bare foot under Nicholas's pant cuff and u
p his leg as he nodded and the waiter filled their glasses. "You were saying?" she prompted when they were again alone.
Nicholas swirled the dark liquid in his wine glass, letting the silence draw out, and doing his best to ignore her toes working their way up his calf. "I don't want to make this awkward for you," he began. She had been ridiculously easy to draw in. No wonder Nuin had taken advantage of her.
She moved her foot further up his leg, smiling.
Perhaps direct would be better. Before she molested him under the table. "I think I should explain why I invited you out tonight."
She wrapped both feet around his leg and pulled it between her knees under the table. "Why don't you show me instead?"
Nicholas gently untangled his leg from hers, noting her confusion and then hurt. "My family has been well-known in the magical community for many centuries. You're aware of us?"
"I know your family lineage." He watched her slip one foot back into its shoe and purse her lips into a pout.
"What you may not know is the role assigned to certain members of the oldest Traditional families." He gave her a solemn stare. "What I'm about to tell you is not common knowledge." He captured one of her hands in his and lowered his voice saying, "you must promise not to repeat it."
Lilith's eyes grew large and serious. She whispered, "Not a soul."
"Think of me as a magical enforcer."
"What!" She pulled her hand from his, a defensive expression on her face. "What I did wasn't so bad. But they threatened to kick me out of the coven. It wasn't my fault!" Her voice pitched louder with each word of protest.
Nicholas put an elegant finger to his lips in a shushing motion and slid his chair closer to hers.
Looking wounded, she tried to move away, but he put his arm around her shoulders. "I haven't come looking for you, darling girl, although I must admit I'm pleased to have found you."
She relaxed a bit under his arm. "Then why did you tell me?"
"I'm looking into an old boyfriend of yours. Nuin."
Lilith gave a loud braying laugh. "Oh, priceless. Don't tell me there's no such thing as karma." She beamed at Nicholas. "Ask away. What do you want to know?"
Nicholas waited patiently while the waiter brought their first course, a spicy-sweet butternut squash soup. "Would you tell me why they kicked you out of the coven?" he asked her gently when they were again alone.
"I wasn't kicked out. I quit. I got in trouble for doing Nuin's dirty deeds," she said, making rapid swirls in her soup with her spoon, sloshing an orange puddle onto the plate beneath. "He asked me to get information from a man. I concocted a lust potion to do it."
"You fed it to him without his knowledge," Nicholas said bluntly.
"Well, yeah. I could have done it without the potion." She held up her spoon in a mock salute. "But I was in a hurry."
Yes, well, timing is everything in magic, Nicholas thought grimly. "So the coven banished you."
Lilith's smile faded. "There's more. Things backfired. The guy was furious afterwards." She paused. "So was his wife." She pushed her bowl away. "Then he drove his car off the side of a mountain."
Nicholas looked at her with a new wariness.
Lilith caught his look and flinched. "I didn't do it! But I know Nuin was involved somehow. High Priest? What a sham." She curled her lip and made an obscene gesture with both hands. "He's a nasty piece of work. He told me to quit the coven to distance himself from me. Didn't want his name sullied."
The waiter cleared their bowls and served the main course, rack of lamb for Nicholas and a rare steak for Lilith.
"I heard he's been dabbling in the dark arts," Nicholas said.
"Oh, he's been doing a lot more than dabbling." She stopped eating and leaned in to him conspiratorially. "He's hanging out with a really weird bunch. Black Masses. Trying to raise the dead." She shivered. "They have their ceremonies at an old church up in the woods outside Flagstaff."
Nicholas wondered if she shivered in disgust or excitement as he poured more wine and considered his next question. "Do you think you could get me in?"
Lilith looked startled. "Why would you want to join them?"
"Not join, observe." Nicholas sipped his drink and gave her a level gaze. "I've never been to a Black Mass. I'd like to see what goes on."
"I could probably arrange it." She gave him an appraising look. "But I don't buy your reason. Tell me why you really want to go? You won't be able to do anything to him with all his buddies around."
He gave her a bland smile. "You've heard the saying, 'keep your friends close'."
After dinner, they drove to Sedona through the back roads, the snow-shrouded trees glistening in the headlights. Nicholas could feel Lilith's eyes on him in the darkness but kept his gaze straight ahead. He had most of the information he needed, although an exact location would be useful.
He rested his right arm on the console, confident she would notice. Soon enough her cool palm slid across his fingers. He allowed them to stay and turned slightly toward her, his eyes still on the road.
"These rites at the church. Do they use any special ingredients in their rituals?"
She rubbed tiny circles on the top of his hand with her fingertips. "Sometimes."
"Do you know where I could get the ingredients? Natural poisons, perhaps?"
"My, you're full of surprises tonight." She paused while he pulled the car into her driveway and parked, then turned to him and put her hands round his neck, pulling his lips down to hers.
Nicholas closed his eyes, unmoving, and waited for her to give up on the kiss.
Her face was stormy when she moved away. "Come by the store in a few days and I'll give you a contact name for the herbs." Opening the car door, she paused. "Maybe the rest of the information on Nuin and his gang—the part you really need—can be my Yule gift to you. It would be worth it just to make Nuin's life miserable." She gave him a spiteful sneer. "But be sure I get something in return." She slammed the car door and went inside without looking back.
* * * * *
"I'm borrowing your lady for a cup of tea," Nicholas told Kamaria Monday morning at the bookshop, steering Lilith out of the front door of the store and into his car idling at the curb.
Once alone he rounded on her.
Lilith flinched backwards a bit from his aggressive posture.
Nicholas gave her a cold smile. It curved his lips but didn't touch his eyes. "Well? Tell me Nuin's meeting place."
"Good morning to you too." Lilith put one finger on his face and ran it slowly down his throat, putting her palm flat on his chest. "I told you, the last information is to be a Yule gift." She ran her palm lower. When it reached his belly, Nicholas stopped her.
"And the herbs?"
She let his stony silence sit between them for a long time, unanswered. Finally, she gave up and removed her hand from his shirt. Nicholas's stomach muscles unclenched and he realized he'd been holding his breath.
"In the Sequoia Forest area is a little town called Ponderosa. The store's called Nutter's Grove. Ask for Jezzie Nutter." Lilith smirked. "Good luck charming that old crone. She'll eat you up and feed your bones to the bird."
Chapter 33: Hide & Seek
From my hiding place behind a dress mannequin propped against my desk, I watched Nicholas return with Lilith. He just brought her home. Did she spend the night with him?
He parked the car in front of our row of shops and Lilith returned to the bookstore, while he headed straight for the front door of Past Lives and knocked on the locked door.
I unlocked the door and led him back to my office, then sat down in front of my laptop as though in the middle of important work. Nicholas sat down in the padded chair across from me and crossed his legs.
"What are you doing at work on your day off?"
"Well, I…uhm." I clasped my fidgety hands in my lap and started over. "December is my restock month. I could go through the new merchandise catalogs at h
ome, but it's just as easy to do it here." Much better. I sat up straighter and locked eyes with Nicholas, intending to ask him about his date with Lilith, but he spoke first.
"I have to leave town for a couple of days. A quick business trip to California. Would you be willing to cat sit for me?" His smile was friendly, as if he had nothing to hide. "It's rather sudden. I don't want to inconvenience you."
"Sure," I said. "I love those cats. In fact, I just bought them Yule gifts."
Nicholas looked surprised. "Sounds like I'd better get busy so they don't disown me." He paused. "Would you be able to spend the night at my house?"
I thought for a moment. I used to use my days off to clean house and buy groceries, maybe go to a movie alone. Now it seemed I used every spare moment to practice magic. He had a wonderful library I could use for my herbal studies. The library clinched the deal. "I could stay, certainly," I said. "Is it possible you could leave tomorrow? It's my day off. I'll do the orders today and Rumor can take Wednesday for me, so I can work from your house."
Nicholas clapped his hands on the desk and stood up. "Splendid. Thank you. I'll just go home and pack, and leave around noon tomorrow, so come up whenever it's convenient." I'll leave the cats' food out in the morning, so you won't have to bother."
* * * * *
Nicholas was putting his suitcase into his car when I pulled into the driveway around eleven the next morning. He walked over and leaned in the window. "I haven't had lunch yet. Would you fancy a bite before I leave?"
I was dying to ask Nicholas about Lilith at the restaurant, but tried to be casual. "What kind of business takes you to California?"
"Just business." He studiously unfolded his napkin.
"An appointment? Are you looking at property?"
Nicholas looked exasperated. "Just business, Samantha, nothing we need to discuss."
"Are you going alone?"
He blinked in surprise. "Why do you ask?"
It was my turn to avoid his eyes. "I saw you with Lilith," I murmured.
His eyes were steely. "I have business with Lilith," he said. "And my business is none of your business."
