Her eyes twinkled. “Has she met Orion?”
Excellent.
◆◆◆
My friend Orion is pretty. By the time he was twelve, he’d grown used to women turning around and walking backward to get a last glimpse after they’d passed him on the street. He’s both wary and weary of relationships based on physical attraction, so he’s pretty much taken himself out of the game, at least for now. We all think that one of these days he’s going to find a woman who can see past all the bling, but until then he’s on a hunt of a different kind.
Orion is the best tracker I have ever met. It’s not just the kind of tracking you are used to seeing in the regular world, although he’s extraordinarily good at that, too. Orion can walk into a room and sense everyone who has been there in the last few hours, sometimes days. Often he can tell you where they went, or at least where they intended to go.
My request was simple: could Orion track the blue amber once Lissa removed it from the vault?
He flashed me a dazzling smile. I’m immune, but it’s a habit with him. “The case, or the amber itself?” he asked.
“I think it needs to be the amber, don’t you? Just in case she decides to stick it in her pocket and run?”
He closed his eyes, then opened them and smiled.
“That’s it?” I asked.
Orion grinned. “I didn’t know you wanted a floor show with it.”
“Just tell me that this is going to work.”
He shot me a look. “When has it ever not worked?”
He had a point. “Sorry to hear about Lissa,” he said. “She seemed very nice.”
“She is. That’s why I don’t quite get this,” I said. “There’s got to be more going on here. Anyway, I appreciate your help.” I thought a moment. “I wonder if I might ask another favor?”
I got the smile again. “Anything.”
“It might be useful if we find out what Lissa does when she’s not here at work. Do you think you might give it a go?”
Orion feigned shock. “Are you trying to set me up with Lissa?”
I wanted to punch him in the arm. “Handle it however you want. I don’t think she has a boyfriend, so a little flirtation might be one way to get closer to her. But it’s entirely up to you, whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m hoping there’s some innocent explanation for all this.”
Orion grinned. “You’re pretty big on Santa and the Easter Bunny, too, aren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you help with this, or not?”
He chucked me under the chin, just because he knows I hate it. “Of course, I’m in.” He kissed my cheek. “Later, gorgeous,” he said as he made for the door.
Chapter Nine
I was working at my desk that evening when the door admitted Orion to the alley shop. He winked at Lissa as he walked past the counter. She looked startled at the attention, and I noted her delighted blush. He was something else, that guy.
I knew that Lissa was just out of hearing range, so Orion and I just made small talk for a couple of moments, validating his reason for dropping by. His back was to Lissa, so she didn’t see when he rolled his eyes in her direction and said in a louder voice, “I’ll get started on that right away, if that’s okay with you.”
“I appreciate the help,” I said, and I meant it. “Let me know what you find out.”
He started for the door but turned on his heel just as he passed Lissa at the counter. “I almost forgot—I have two tickets for Maroon 5 tonight,” he said to me. “Care to join me?”
Nice hook, I thought. “Sorry,” I said, “not my thing. Thanks for asking, though.”
I thought I saw Orion wink as he spun in Lissa’s direction. “How about you?”
Lissa looked like she was going to faint. “Sure!” she finally managed to mumble, but then her face fell. “Oh. I have to work.”
Orion gave her a devastating grin. “Maybe not. I think I may have some pull with your boss.” He turned to me. “Boss? What do you say?”
I tried to look stern. “We still have a lot of work to do tonight.” Lissa looked crestfallen.
“What if she promises to work twice as hard tomorrow night?”
My turn to roll my eyes theatrically. “Fine—you win. Get out of here, you two!” I shooed them away with my hands.
Lissa scrambled to the break room to retrieve her coat.
“Do you really have those tickets for tonight?” I whispered as soon as she was out of earshot.
“Yup. Well, I will have once we get over there. The stadium gate manager and I are old friends, and she...”
I threw up my hands. “I don’t want to know.”
He smiled as Lissa came back with her purse and coat. I noticed the fresh lipstick.
“Have a great time,” I said, but neither of them heard me. Lissa was caught deep in Orion’s gaze as they headed out the door.
◆◆◆
John woke up before I did, and as I shuffled to the bathroom for my shower, I noticed he’d sat down at my desk. John was online.
“What are you working on?” I asked, peering over his shoulder. I was dying to know how he operated electronics without touching them.
“How are you doing that?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” John said. “Cool, Huh?”
He pointed at the screen, and I saw a yearbook photo of a much younger Simon. I recoiled.
“I thought I’d lend a hand,” John said. “Your Mr. Sterling has been a naughty boy. He has a record of financial fraud across three continents.” He scrolled the screen down a little, never touching the keyboard or mouse. “Simon Sterling, birth name Simon Darius Pella, half-brother to Hannah Carter. At least, that’s what it looks like. I can’t see that Penelope was married to either of their fathers.”
I shook my head. “As far as any of us knew, growing up, Hannah’s father was the only man who had ever been in Penelope’s life. My mother once let slip that Penelope is not really a widow. Her husband Alex was a prominent investment banker back in the days of penny stocks, and for a while, the family lived in the high clover. They had both come from modest means, but it didn’t take them long to become accustomed to the flamboyant lifestyle that serious money afforded them in the 1980s.”
I took a breath to be sure that John was following me. “So what happened?”
“Alex fleeced his investors and took off for parts unknown, leaving Penelope holding the bag and with toddler Lissa to support. We were all full of admiration of the way Penelope pulled herself back up and created a life for herself and her daughter.” I paused. “We were also grateful not to be Lissa.”
“So what was Simon like as a kid?”
That puzzled me. “I never met him—he was always off at boarding school. He’s quite a bit older than Michael and Hannah. Maybe he was living with his father?”
John moved his eyes at the screen, and the page scrolled back to the yearbook. “You may be right. This is from Montréal.”
I sank down on the couch. “So where does that leave us?”
“With more questions than answers. I’ll keep digging.”
◆◆◆
I slept well the next morning and awoke ready for a run in the park. I could feel my muscles start to unwind and the tension drop from my shoulders as I came along the asphalt path beside the golf course. I hit my rhythm as I rounded the underpass and started back south. I was in the zone, so I was a bit startled when Orion dropped in next to me and matched my stride.
We ran together in companionable silence for a while. He’s decades younger than I am, but he’s willing to dial it back. “So how was the concert?” I finally asked.
“Excellent! She’s a sweet girl,” he said. “Innocent, actually. I don’t think she has much experience with the world. She talked a lot, like teenagers do, but I got the impression she doesn’t have much life outside of work. Her mother keeps her on a pretty tight leash.”
“That’s interesting. Do you know who her mother is?”
“Penelope.” He almost spat the name.
“Sounds like you have a history.”
“That, we do.” He didn’t elaborate.
“Does Lissa know that?”
“No way. It was before her time.”
Note to self: never judge my friends’ chronological age by their physical appearance. “Sounds like a romantic entanglement,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
He shook his head vigorously. “It was a magical evening, but it was far from romantic.”
“Getting sideways with Penelope is rarely a good idea.”
“Tell me about it.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I still have the scar.”
“So, I take it that you cautioned Lissa not to tell her mother about your date last night?”
“Didn’t have to. She made it very clear that she and her mother have very little to say to each other.”
“It’s pretty common with mothers of teenagers. She’ll outgrow it.”
Ryan shook his head. “I got the impression that this wasn’t just mother-daughter stuff. I think there was something specific, some kind of fight. A big one.”
“So it’s something recent.”
He nodded. “Penelope is up to something.”
“Something that involves Lissa. And my shop. And me. You know Penelope got Lissa the job with me, right?”
His silence told me everything I needed to know.
“So what next?” I asked.
“We’re going out again tonight.”
“Wow,” I said. “Thanks! That’s really taking one for the team.”
He grinned, but it wasn’t the dazzling lady killer he usually threw. This one looked almost shy. “I like her. She’s a good kid.”
“Orion, are you going soft on me after all these years?”
He actually blushed. “I’m just saying: if something’s going on, she’s being pressured into it. I’ll let you know what I find out.” He veered off the path toward the parking lot and was gone.
◆◆◆
I got to the shop that night ready to dig into the vault again. I opened my desk drawer, removed my sneakers and dropped in my purse. I took a moment to download an inventory to my tablet: not the inventory that Lissa and I had completed at the end of last month, but one I compiled from the pawn declarations on file.
An hour later I had worked my way down to the next-to-last course above the floor. I was trying to decide whether it would be easier to bend all the way over or just get down on my knees to work in the corner when Frank popped downstairs.
I was so startled that I jumped back against the wire cages, causing everything to rattle. “How on earth...?”
“Dante,” Frank said with no further explanation. He must’ve heard me set the lock. How he’d managed to hitch a ride downstairs on my own magic was a question for another time.
“What are you doing down here, anyway?”
Frank squinted his eyes. “I thought you might need some help.”
I shook my head. “You were bored. Won’t Lissa pay attention to you?”
“She’s helping a customer. It was all very routine.” Frank looked at the open bins and cages. “Are you looking for something?”
I knew that he had eavesdropped on my conversation with Jim, but I let it pass. “It’s a piece of rare amber in a cedar box.”
Frank flew his tail like a flag as he skulked around the perimeter of the vault. Now and then, he stopped and sniffed a box or bin. About three-quarters of the way around, his tail twitched.
“This one,” Frank said confidently, indicating a bin on the second row from the bottom.
According to the paperwork on the front, the bin contained a mandrake root pawned by a seer from Sedona of questionable skills and veracity. I have done a lot of business with him over the years, and this particular mandrake was an old friend. I knew it would be here at least until winter, when the seer’s rich snowbird followers migrated back to his meditation center in the red rocks.
I removed the mandrake. Behind it, I found a familiar cedar casket.
I turned to Frank in astonishment. “How did you do that?”
“Cedar tickles the nose,” he said simply.
Frank sat next to me, tail curled over his feet, as I took the box out and placed it on the floor. The mandrake had been roughly shoved back in the bin as if somebody had been in a hurry. One of its arms was bent at an odd angle. It looked like I might be buying the seer a new mandrake.
The cedar box was undamaged, and when I opened it, its contents were intact. The amber was still nestled in its cushions. At least Lissa hadn’t damaged the stone.
“Thank the goddess,” I whispered, breathing a sigh of relief. “What was Lissa thinking?”
Frank had the answer. “Perhaps someone made her a better offer,” he said sadly.
But even if Lissa was the one who had hidden the amber—and, after all, only she and I had access to all—she couldn’t just walk out the door with it. She had to know she would be a suspect if her theft was discovered, and she was smart enough not to store a stolen object—especially a magical one --at her home or anywhere else she was known to have been. No, the best place to stash it was right here in my vault, ready to be retrieved as soon as her buyer appeared.
My first instinct was to take the box upstairs and called Jim Hamilton. But if I did that, I wasn’t really solving anything. I was pretty sure Penelope was at the bottom of this, but I didn’t understand why or how—and I owed somebody some serious payback for that tiger.
I supposed I could always move the amber to yet another bin, where it would be safe from Lissa but remained within my reach. But I still needed to uncover Lissa’s buyer and unravel her role in Hannah’s brother’s death. I needed to know what she planned to do with the stone, who she planned to give it to, and just generally what the heck was going on. Moving the amber out of her reach would only make that harder.
I had a better idea. I left the box where I had found it. I took Frank upstairs with me and called Daisy.
◆◆◆
I’d told Daisy about Simon creeping around on my condo balcony, so she dropped by the condo the next day with a basket full of spells, potions, and charms. “Better than a burglar alarm,” she explained.
Reunions with a ghost are always awkward. Your impulse is to throw your arms wide and hug your loved one, but they’ll fade right through. Daisy blew John a kiss instead.
They spent a few minutes catching up before Daisy and I settled in with a pitcher of iced tea to talk a little business. John drifted off to the couch, and a few minutes later the TV came on and we saw earbuds dangling in midair.
“He’s really gotten the hang of that thing, hasn’t he?” Daisy giggled.
I nodded proudly. “He’s learned a lot. I think he’s happy.”
Daisy smiled. “I think you’re happy, too.”
I grimaced. “I will be, once we get this mess sorted out with Simon.”
Daisy sat back in her chair and sipped her tea. “It’s not Simon you have to worry about. He’s just doing what Penelope tells him.”
“So this all comes back to Penelope?”
“Think it through,” Daisy said. “This isn’t about who has something to gain. Simon and Penelope both do. But who has the power?”
I remembered what Hannah had told me. “Simon has no magic.”
Daisy nodded. “But Penelope does. Working with Simon is just a means to an end for her. She’s after the blue amber, and she wants the spellbook so she can use the amber to channel Deborah’s powers. Penelope doesn’t care who she hurts to get it.”
◆◆◆
I called Mark, Orion, and Hannah, and they agreed to meet me at the alley shop just before closing that night.
“Where’s Lissa?” Mark asked, looking around.
“I sent her out on an errand,” I said. “She should be right back.”
Mark looked grave.
“Is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?”
Hannah asked.
I handed her the pawn declaration for her mother’s blue amber. “I thought we’d better take another look at this,” I said.
Lissa breezed in as I took Hannah’s cedar box out of my lower drawer and put it on my desk. Mark, Orion and I watched Lissa’s reaction. She seemed shocked to see it.
We all gathered around as Hannah opened the lid. The blue amber glowed in the light of my desk lamp. I snapped on the black light flashlight and watched the stone fluoresce neon blue and red. It was the real deal.
Mark hefted the cedar box in his hand. He looked puzzled as he turned to Hannah. “Did your mother have this box made especially for the amber?”
Hannah nodded. “It was about ten years ago, I think. I remember that it was right around the time that my grandmother started training me.”
“That puberty thing,” I said, and Hannah smiled. “May I?” I asked, taking the box from Mark’s hands.
He was right; there was something off about the weight and balance of the box. Padding in such boxes can be attached directly to the wood, but in better construction, the padding is built on a separate piece of wood and simply placed inside the bottom of the box. I tugged on the silk lining, and it lifted up.
The space underneath the padding was hollow. Inside was a small red leather journal, bound with a leather thong.
The color drained from Hannah’s face.
“Your mother’s spellbook,” I whispered. She nodded and took the book from my hand. She opened it reverently.
The pages were creamy handmade paper, each about the size of an index card. The first half of the book had been written in an elegant Victorian script.
“My mother’s older sister got my grandmother’s book, the one that had been passed down through the family,” Hannah said. “My grandmother felt bad about it — she always said that my mother was the one who had inherited the real talent. She spent one whole winter copying out the most important spells for my mother, so she could have her own copy.”
She carefully turned to the middle pages. The second half looked more like the Palmer penmanship that was taught in American public schools before World War II. “This is my mother’s handwriting — I’d know it anywhere. She was always so proud of having a careful hand. She spent a lot of time perfecting her rituals as she got older, and she took very good notes.”
The Blue Amber Spell Page 10
