by Esme Addison
His smiled deepened. “But perhaps your aunt is?”
And as if his words bid her, Aunt Lidia appeared behind Alex and took the hostess gift. She handed the bottle to Alex. “Put this in the freezer, please.”
Alex eyed him curiously. She turned to her aunt. “Of course,” she said, happy to take her leave.
Aunt Lidia also turned to move into the house and then stopped when she observed that Montgomery still stood in the threshold, his large frame filling the space. “Are you just going to stand there letting all the flies in?” she asked, hand on her hip.
He inclined his head. “I’m waiting to be invited.”
Lidia inhaled sharply and stared at him. “Are you now?” She assessed him for a moment before speaking. “Won’t you please come in?”
“Gladly.” He grinned and followed her to the formal dining room off the main hallway, and Lidia called her daughters to dinner.
* * *
As they sat around the table, Alex took in the antique furniture, lovingly cared for but too fancy for their informal gatherings over sweet tea and pierogis. The table in the eat-in kitchen, Alex realized, was her preference.
Lidia wiped her mouth with her napkin. “How’s your food?” She gestured at his plate, which was full of fried chicken, cheddar and chive biscuits, and cucumber salad—a Sobieski family dinner staple in the summer time.
“Best fried chicken and biscuits I’ve had since moving to the South.” He smiled.
“How are you going to prevent entire ecological communities on the seabed from being destroyed?” Minka asked, cutting to the chase. “How are you going to prevent deep sea heavy metals from being introduced into surface water and where sea creatures will be exposed to them?”
He held up a hand. “I have an entire team of ecologists who create recommendations to mitigate the risks to our environment and another team who writes them into policy, along with the governing standards overseeing our work—and we follow them. And I’d like for you to join my NGO representing Bellamy Bay and the local preservation society. We don’t work just to preserve the ocean environment but also the coasts and the nearby towns affected.”
But Alex gave him a knowing look. In preparation for his visit, she’d done more research on his company, particularly its charitable division. She wanted to be able to poke holes in his stated intentions, so Minka and Aunt Lidia could see through his pseudo-altruistic charm. She’d been inside his head, and although she hadn’t seen anything, she’d felt enough to know there was something off where he was concerned. She just wondered if anyone, especially Aunt Lidia, who was very observant, would notice as well.
Alex dipped her fork into her salad. “What you actually do is set up a good works project in every town where you’re doing mining—or whatever it is you do—to counter the bad things you’re doing in the environment. Isn’t that what you did in Boston? And in Hawaii? Brought in Neve to paint a pretty picture for the locals, and create some work of charity to assuage your corporate guilt?”
He nodded, not rising to her prickly bait. “Sure. Yes, we did do those things, but it’s not quite as conniving as you’d have everyone believe. I want to give back to the communities I work in. It’s a part of our mission statement. My mother instilled the beauty of art in me as a child. So, I have made sure that art is an integral part of our philanthropy. We don’t just commission paintings; we commission statues, industrial art—whatever our group recommends and the town leadership agrees to.”
“I love it,” Minka said, reaching for her second biscuit. “Art should be free and everywhere. I commend you for including this in your plans.”
Alex crossed her arms, finding no fault with his response.
“What else do you do? Besides commission public artworks?” Minka asked, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
Alex shot her cousin a worried look. She was beginning to suspect that Neve did other things for this NGO, namely, something that got her killed.
“We provide grants to local charitable organizations—something we plan on doing with the Bellamy Bay Preservation Society. How does twenty thousand dollars sound, free and clear?” He looked around the table.
“Like a bribe,” Alex said.
“How about thirty?” He locked eyes with Minka. “Could you put that money to good use? Save some turtles, build new sand dunes?’
Minka’s mouth dropped open, and she nodded, unable to speak.
But Lidia frowned. “Wesley Inc. already generously donates to the Society. Perhaps you could provide something else?”
“Yes, I’m aware that Wesley is a donor, but we’d like to do more. And yes, certainly we can do more than just provide money.” He glanced at Minka. “Just tell me what you need.”
“I’d have to think about it—go to the group, discuss your offer, and see what they come up with.”
With pursed lips Aunt Lidia stood. “Who is ready for dessert?”
* * *
After cake and coffee was served, conversation moved to travels, with Montgomery sharing a childhood trip to Poland.
“It was a pilgrimage of sorts,” he said, holding a forkful of kremówka papieska—papal cream cake, a square of flaky pastry with chilled egg custard between the layers, and covered in powdered sugar. “We went to Krakow to see the Wawel Castle.” He took another bite of the cake and licked his lips. “May I say, this is the lightest, creamiest version of cream cake I’ve ever had.”
“Quite the flatterer, aren’t you,” Lidia observed with a smile. “My mother’s recipe. Glad you like it. So, what brought you to Poland?”
“We have family in the area. They’ve been there for a long, long time.”
Kamila eyed him with interest. “The dragon was the coolest part of that trip.” She looked at her mother. “Right, Mom?” She looked around the table. “We went there when I was, like, twelve, I think?”
Aunt Lidia nodded. “Yes, it’s an interesting tale.” She glanced at Alex, who looked confused. “Never heard of it, dear?”
“Sorry, no.”
“May I?” Montgomery asked, then began when Aunt Lidia nodded. His lips spread into a wide grin. “Who doesn’t love a good dragon tale?” He chuckled. “The Wawel dragon appeared during the reign of King Krakus, at which time he required weekly offerings of cattle. If the dragon did not receive his offerings, he’d find humans to eat in town. Of course, King Krakus wanted to protect his people, so he called on his two sons for help, Lech and Krakus II. They could not, however, defeat the creature by hand, so they came up with a trick.
“They fed him a calf skin stuffed with smoldering sulfur, causing his fiery death. Then the brothers argued about who deserved the honor for slaying the dragon. The older brother killed the younger brother, Krakus II, and told the others that the dragon had killed him. When Lech became king, his secret was revealed, and he got expelled from the country. The city Krakow was named in recognition of the brave and innocent Krakus.”
“That’s quite the story,” Alex finally said. “Mermaids, dragons—I never knew Poland had such fanciful beginnings.”
“The limestone cave is still there, the dragon’s lair under Wawel Castle,” Kamila enthused. “So cool. Bones of the dragon—some say not the dragon, but a dinosaur—are hanging in front of the Wavell Cathedral on the grounds.”
A tight smile froze on Montgomery’s face as he nodded. “Yes, they’ve been hanging there a long time.”
Lidia examined Montgomery for a moment and then abruptly stood. “Anyone want more coffee?” Everyone but Alex indicated they wanted a second cup. Lidia nodded. “Alex, come help me?”
Once they were in the kitchen, Alex looked at her aunt. “What’s going on?”
Lidia paused in her gathering of coffee supplies. “Something about him bothers me.”
Alex nodded, watching her aunt measure out coffee grounds and pour them into a filter. “You feel it too? Good. It’s not just me.”
When the coffee began to brew, Lidia turned around
with a troubled expression on her face.
Alex hesitated for only a moment before explaining what she’d felt when she’d tried to reach into his mind.
Lidia’s laugh was harsh. “That’s what you get when you go poking around where you don’t belong. But that is interesting …” She looked at the door to the kitchen speculatively, as if she could see straight through it to the dining room. “And he is … not quite what he seems.”
“I knew it. I knew I couldn’t be the only one to sense something about him.”
“Something besides him being a murder suspect.”
“Yes,” Alex whispered. “What are you thinking?”
“When Kamila mentioned the dragon—or dinosaur—bones hanging at Wavell Castle, I sensed a dip in his energy. A dive, really. It bothers him—a lot.”
Alex turned to look in the direction of the dining room. “Why would he care about something like that?
“Perhaps it was a relation.”
Alex gawked at her aunt, unable to tell if she was teasing or not.
“I think,” she continued, “that he may belong to an exclusive club of sorts, but I don’t want to say until I’m certain.”
“What kind of club?”
“The kind that very wealthy, powerful men belong to, men who make decisions about our world. And they can successfully be taught to guard their thoughts.”
She told her aunt how she’d seen Montgomery at the museum reception, looking quite chummy with Tegan.
“Figures,” Lidia said with a sour set to her lips. “So, he’s a friend of the Wesleys. That can’t be good.”
“We’ll talk more about it when we don’t have a dinner guest. For now, let’s just be good hostesses, shall we?”
* * *
After dinner, Alex went to the park to meet with the blogger. She’d tucked her hair under a Yankees baseball cap and pulled it low on her face. She’d grabbed a pair of her aunt’s drugstore reading glasses to further obscure her identity. A T-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes completed her look. Alex slowly walked toward the mural. Even with tall, illuminated lamp posts lighting the way, there were still several areas obscured by the dark. At this late hour, the park was practically empty, with a lone man walking a dog at its far end. She suddenly wished she’d brought Athena, but the blogger had said come alone, and she assumed that meant without a dog too.
She rounded a corner, came face to face with the mural, and took the time to study it once more. She gazed at the Mermaid of Warsaw, who looked as if she had a secret. But what could—
And then she heard a noise behind her, like someone stepping on a twig. She whirled around but stopped when the person spoke.
“Don’t turn around,” a voice said. “I have a gun pointed at your back.”
Alex’s shoulder’s tightened. “Why would you have a weapon? I’m here to talk.”
The person made a choking sound, half-laugh, half-cry, and Alex quickly turned her head to catch a look. She saw a slight figure in a dark hoodie and sweatpants. The face was partially hidden by the hood and the shadows, but something about the voice sounded familiar. She indeed felt something sharp in her back, so she faced front, hands up.
“Why do you have a gun?”
“I’ll ask the questions. How do you know Neve Ryland?” the hooded figure asked.
“She was a friend,” Alex said, realizing all at once that the person behind her was a woman, trying to hide the timbre of her voice. The Bizarre Bellamy Bay blogger was a woman, not a man as Pepper’s source had said.
“Friends don’t kill friends,” the woman said.
Alex almost turned around then. “I didn’t kill her! I’m trying to find out who did.”
“Neve told me only two people knew about the information she shared with the blog. The person who shared the information with her and the person who wanted her to keep it a secret. She told me she trusted the scientist, but …” Her voice trailed off as her works sunk in.
“You think I’m the person she feared?”
“Yeah, so that’s why the gun. For protection. You e-mailed about Neve. Who else would know?” Alex began to shake her head, but the woman nudged her in the back again. “The killer, that’s who. And now you’re here to kill me. Tying up loose ends, making sure no one is left to talk.” Her voice wavered a bit. “Start walking.”
Frowning, Alex realized this woman really thought she was a threat and wanted to take her at gunpoint to another location, a more isolated spot. When she didn’t walk fast enough, she felt the hard edges of the gun’s barrel against the skin of her lower back. And she also realized the woman’s hand was trembling. She almost stopped walking then—she could take her. What was she doing allowing this woman to intimidate her with a weapon? She could use the energetic hold Minka had taught her—if only she could remember how to do it exactly. But even if she did it wrong, it could give her the time she needed to wrestle the gun out of the woman’s hand.
As she slowly walked, Alex looked around her. It was quiet, eerily quiet except for the row of American flags that waved on the breeze making quiet snapping sounds. She needed water. The mermaid fountain full of water that continuously flowed in a loop from the mermaid’s hand to the seashell below, and back again. She took several deep breaths and brought droplets of the water to her until she could feel her palms sweating with moisture. She imagined herself creating a lasso from the water, and with hands outstretched, she turned around and watched in amazement as a glowing blue rope of energy extended from her hands and wrapped around the woman.
Holy cow! She’d done it. The gun, a small semi-automatic, fell from the woman’s grip as the energy slithered around her body in a tight vise, and the woman screamed, “Who are you? What are you?”
“Hush,” Alex admonished, looking around the now deserted park. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Alex walked toward the woman, slid off the hoodie set low over her forehead, and looked into her frightened brown eyes.
It was Evelyn Robinson.
Chapter Eighteen
“Evelyn, what are you doing here?”
Frozen in place, with her arms tight at her sides, she could only stretch her eyes wide. “What are you?” she asked again, her voice thick with terror.
Alex held her hands out, keeping the bands around the woman in place. “I’m a friend. It’s me, Alex Daniels from Botanika.”
Evelyn blinked, staring at Alex, trying to see her under the baseball cap and glasses. She turned to look at the mermaid fountain and then back to Alex. “You’re … one of them. Neve was right. Magicals. They are real and they’re here in town.”
“I’m going to release you and you’re not going to run.” Alex spoke the works but she also realized she was sending the thought, telling—no, programming—the woman on her next course of action. “Do you understand?”
The woman nodded slowly, and Alex lowered her hands. The glowing strand of the vise disappeared, but Evelyn still stood rooted to the spot, her hands at her sides.
Alex took the baseball cap and glasses off. “See, it’s me.”
Tears flowed down the woman’s face, and her shoulders began to shake. “Chris was the Bizarre Bellamy blogger, and someone killed him because of this”—she threw her hands wide, gesturing toward the mermaid fountain—“mermaid stuff.” She wiped tears from her face.
“How do you know it had to do with mermaids? I saw the blog. He posted a lot of different things.”
“Because he told me that Neve feared for her life and she wondered if she wasn’t being lured to Bellamy Bay so someone could get rid of her. He also wondered if his life was in danger since he posted all of her tips.”
“Wait. You knew Neve Ryland?” Alex asked.
“I never met her, but Chris mentioned her often. She’d been giving him information for years. And she was sure someone would eventually kill her to keep her quiet.”
“She told your husband she thought she was being lured to town?” Fear crept up Alex’s spine
. “Who would want to kill her?”
“Someone who wanted to silence her. Someone who had the power to bring her to Bellamy Bay.”
Alex’s mind flipped through the information she’d compiled on the investigation. Who knew about the discovery? Bryce. Possibly Dylan. Who’d brought her to town? Dylan, on the recommendation of Bryce. Had Dylan unknowingly brought Neve to town so his college pal could kill her?
“Chris has been fascinated with science and all of its possibilities for years. When he first created that blog, I thought it was just a hobby, a bit of silliness. He’s written about things he thought could be real for the fun of it. But eventually he told me that people reached out to him, people who knew things and were concerned about it being secret. Government whistleblowers, military personnel who had knowledge of crazy things being developed or discovered. They thought that if the information was out there, if it was public knowledge—even if it was on an anonymous blog, it might temper the results somehow.”
“That’s amazing that he was able to accomplish that.”
Evelyn tried to move her body against the thought program Alex had created, but she was only able to slightly shift her shoulders. She looked at Alex helplessly. “Can you free me of your mind control or whatever it is you’re doing? I promise I won’t run or scream.”
“Of course,” Alex said, before sending the thought to the woman. “And sorry, I just had to be sure I could trust you.”
Evelyn nodded. “No, I get it. You can never be too safe. I’m just relieved that I can discuss this with someone,” she rushed out. “I couldn’t tell anyone—not even my mother. Chris swore me to secrecy. But if you’re one of them—it should be okay.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so tired of keeping this to myself. I didn’t think I could tell the police—who would believe me?”
“Even though it would’ve provided motive for someone to actually kill your husband.”
Evelyn nodded. “When I saw your e-mail, I thought this was my chance to finally catch the killer. I was going to shoot you,” she continued somewhat breathlessly. “Preferably in the shoulder—a flesh wound, as they say on television. And then call 911.”