Although, come to think of it, we had seen a recent upsurge in violent deaths lately. Nebula Dreddock. Spithilda Roach. Druida Stone.
Gulp.
Note to self: start doing more nice things for people. Like bringing flowers.
Flowers. That was another thing. I thought about the fresh cut stems Gideon had been kind enough to bring to our impromptu lunch date. The ones that now sat in a Mason jar of water in the middle of Grammy’s old kitchen table. Of all the flowers Verdantia stocked at her stall - roses, gladioli, and lilies - why had she suggested snapdragons to the striking governor?
Verdantia had a remarkable memory. She could name every single order that each and every customer had ever purchased from her stall without as much as a glimmer of hesitation. Grammy Chimera had often dragged me to market when I was a child. While she haggled with Verdantia over the value of rutabagas, I would lose myself chasing butterflies through the heads of vibrant flowers, stopping along the way to make the Snapdragons "talk." So, I suppose she may have recalled my childhood penchant for the bright, cheery buds.
But Verdantia was also a member of The Fae. Given the Fair Folk’s particular penchant for flora and fauna, she was most certainly schooled in the art of floriography, the language of flowers. Was it possible she was sending me a message?
Things are not always what they appear to be.
But what things? Grammy’s secret language lesson echoed inside my head.
I replayed the discovery of Millicent’s well-crisped corpse in my head. Walking down the cliff face, nothing but that splintery old twine rail to keep one from plummeting down the rocky surface and snapping a limb. The distinct smell of lightning-charred flesh fouling the air.
But Maude had said Millicent’s body had no...what did she call them? Lick and stick figures?
No, dummy. I was the only “lick and stick” figure around here. I brandished the loofah over a particularly stubborn patch of Godmarsh goo and peanut butter.
Lichtenberg figures! Yeah. That was it. Millicent’s body had no Lichtenberg figures, just that odd burn pattern on her chest.
“Things are not always what they appear to be.” I echoed the words out lou--
“YEOW!!!”
The temperature of the water plummeted from Sahara plains to sub-Arctic in a matter of nanoseconds as the distinct whoosh of the toilet sucked any nascent heat from the pipe. In one fluid swoop, I thrust the vinyl curtain aside and leaped from the shower. Only to spot Midnight, awake and up for action, balanced on the toilet tank, guilty paw poised over the chrome and porcelain handle.
“M-m-midnight! What are you d-d-doing?” I exclaimed, teeth chattering. I twisted the water shut-off with a quick jerk and grabbed a fluffy towel. “You trying to turn me into a Hatti-sicle?”
“Was just trying to get your attention.” He shrugged. “Hey it was this or the toilet paper roll.”
“Consider it gotten,” I groused as I rushed to rub circulation back into my freezing limbs. Although, truth be told, I was almost glad he had opted for the frigid flush. Ask anyone who has a cat. There was nothing more frustrating than going about your personal business and finding yourself suddenly staring at an empty roll of cardboard above a towering mound of spent tissue heaped on the floor.
“What’s so important that it couldn’t wait? I’m in sort of a rush. You may remember that I’m trying to get ready for my date with Gideon.”
“But that’s what I want to talk about, Hattie!” He leaped to the vanity and paced rapidly. “You see, I’ve been mew-sing it over and I really don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Midnight. Have you been listening to your brothers? Or, sister, even? Gideon Shields is a nice enough guy. What’s the problem?”
Midnight snuck a nervous glance toward the hall. He pawed at the fish-shaped soap next to the sink basin. “I just think that, er, Chief Trew really needs your help.”
Onyx strolled by the open door, out on his usual mouse patrol. Midnight's yellow eyes popped wide.
“With the case! Needs your help with the case!” he stammered. Onyx paused, lifting a three-whiskered eye at his brother, then kept on walking. Midnight seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’m sure Chief Trew is quite capable of handling things without me. At least for one afternoon.” I pulled on my favorite chenille robe and padded toward the bedroom. Midnight jumped down and followed me on padded paws.
“I’m not so sure about that, Hat. I mean, sure, the Chief’s a smart fella and all, but you’ve got, well, you’ve got a really unique perspective. That sort of Hattie way of looking at things. You've got Chimera's blood in those veins, I tell ya."
I was only half-listening to Midnight's ramblings, not so much concerned with how Hattie looked at things as how Hattie looked in things. I futzed through my closet looking for an appropriate outfit for my date. Problem was, I didn’t own a whole lot of “date” clothes.
I held a floral print dress under my chin.
Ugh! Too Miss Marple.
A bell-bottomed pantsuit.
Yikes! Nancy Drew? The Hardy Boys are waiting downstairs.
I finally settle on a pepper-gray sleeveless sweater dress that hugged my hips somewhere between “adorably chic” and “take me now.”
Perfect!
I only hoped that it didn't look too contrived. I wanted to look like I had put minimal effort into my wardrobe while still coming off as stylish and 'put-together.' Such a delicate balance and it was then I realized just how much out of practice I was for striking that balance. I guess I should have considered myself lucky that this particular garment hadn't been balled up and walled into Fraidy's fashion fortress under the bed.
Now I just needed a splash of color. I rustled through my scarf drawer and grabbed a soft pink silk. I snagged Grammy’s sterling and stone starburst pin from my old jewelry box. As I pinned the scarf at my shoulder, I appraised the entire ensemble in the cherry wood oval mirror. The light from the Tiffany lamp on the dresser gleamed off the starburst pin, creating a blinding flash. I held up a shielding hand and shifted my angle.
Ah, that was much better. From the new angle, I could really appreciate how (pretty) good I looked. I felt a small pang as I realized I wasn’t getting all gussied up for David. But, hey! At least someone saw me as more than an above-average herbalist and an amateur sleuth.
I looked in the mirror and made a slight adjustment to the pin. The different perspective made it easier to appreciate the delicate, filigreed craftsmanship that had gone into the piece.
Perspective.
I grasped the starburst pin and wiggled it in the light. Little sparks of light refracted from the glittering stones and danced in haphazard constellations around the room. Midnight joined in the fun, pouncing with abandon, desperately trying to catch the elusive light beams.
Stars.
I pursed my lips. I suddenly remembered the pendulous, black-gemmed necklace I had seen Millicent wearing in the footage at the television station. The star-shaped black-gemmed necklace. Maude Dulgrey couldn’t explain the odd, starburst pattern on Millicent’s chest, but perhaps that necklace was the cause.
It was not something you would expect Millicent to wear. But the woman I was about to go and see might. If it were a gift. A gift from someone who cared about her a great deal. Someone who was certainly in a position to offer a unique perspective on the case. Millicent’s star-crossed lover, Dr. Ravena Valley.
I took one last, longing look at my (for once) stunning reflection in the mirror and sighed. My date with Gideon was just going to have to wait.
Again.
I chuckled ruefully.
I guess it just wasn’t in the stars
Chapter 10
“What do you mean I can’t see the Chief?” I spluttered as I was uncharacteristically halted at the duty sergeant’s desk at GIPPD headquarters. The mental gut-check I felt caught me a bit off-guard.
Onyx nudged his furry head into my leg
. “Hattie, please be calm. I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. Esme probably just means the Chief’s tied up right now.”
Shade giggled. “Who knew the Chief was into kink?”
Onyx shot his brother a scolding look.
Esme Discord hardly gave the effort to lift her heavy-lidded eyes to meet my ruffled gaze.
“The…Chief…is…not…available,” she rasped out in a voice thick from years of smoking cheap cigarettes. “Which syllable seems to be giving you trouble, hon?”
Esme’s snarky comment further soured the already exasperated expression on my face. Sometimes I really missed Amber Crystal. Okay, so the former executive assistant to the Chief had turned out to be a cold-blooded murderer. But, hey, at least she always greeted you with a smile. The lady had manners.
I slapped two open palms on the top of Esme’s desk, smudging number four down on the Glessie Gazette crossword Esme had been working on. Now, instead of “disturbance,” it just sort of looked like a Rorschach blob. An interference of another kind rumbled from somewhere deep in Esme’s broad belly. I was pretty sure the desk agent just growled at me.
She finally lifted her puffy red-rimmed eyes. Her baleful stare indicated she might be considering turning me into a Rorschach blob. I gulped audibly. The cat’s arched protectively and did the queer sideward sidle they are wont to do in times of duress.
Esme slowly shifted in her seat, her pendulous breasts heaving under her blue uniform shirt. A few of the buttons strained, the threads squeaking in protest as she sat as straight as her hefty bulk would allow. She took two hammy hands and lifted the half-moon glasses that had been dangling on a beaded chain and fitted them over the bridge of her bulbous nose.
“Listen, doll,” she finally said. “All I know is a long tall drink of cool water came sashaying in here about an hour ago asking for the Chief and she’s been in his office ever since. And the Chief asked not to be disturbed.”
A long tall drink of cool water? Was it possible that David was actually seeing someone that he hadn’t told me about?
“Heeeeeey, now...you don’t suppose the Chief is catting around on our Hattie, do you, Onyx?” Shade drawled.
“Brother” Onyx scolded. “Show a little decorum. Chimera taught you better than that.”
I winced. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but perhaps my overly vocal cat was onto something. Maybe a new inamorata was the reason for David's odd behavior of late. I swallowed hard to clear the welling lump in my throat.
I guess I had been wrong the whole time. Maybe it wasn’t that David wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship at all. He just wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with me.
A peal of laughter echoed through the station. My eyes drifted toward the clear windows of Chief Trew’s office. David was leaning casually against the front of his desk. He looked relaxed. He even had the top button of his uniform shirt loose, exposing his strong and muscular neck. I squinted. Just a hint of dark, curly chest hair peeked over the top of the v-neck. There had been more than a night or two where I’d dreamt of curling my fingers in that hair while stealing a kiss.
Another laugh rang out. Fat chance of that now.
His normally very neat black hair, avec Pepe-le-peu stripe looked casually mussed. His perfect teeth gleamed in a bright smile as he tossed his head back with a burst of carefree laughter. He looked incredibly laid-back and confident. Very un-David-like. And that’s when I saw her.
The cascade of blue-black hair. The statuesque form sitting in the chair across from David’s desk. Miss Falk, Gideon Shield’s enigmatic and devastatingly beautiful advisor.
“But...what’s she doing here?” I managed to squeak.
“Want me to paint a picture?” Shade asked.
A fuzzy, black bowling ball of fur spun end-over-end as Onyx sent Shade sailing across the floor.
Esme threw up two innocent palms. “You know what? That’s the Chief’s business. I just work here.”
Well, whatever this was, it certainly didn’t look like it had anything to do with the case. And it certainly wasn’t like David to ignore an investigation in favor of a woman.
Esme’s gritty voice scraped over my already open wound. “You gotta admit, though. She’s a looker.”
I grabbed a loose sheet of paper and a pen from Esme’s desk and hastily scribbled a message.
“Hey! That was my grocery list!” Esme grumbled.
I shoved the paper back at her. “Will you please see that the Chief gets this note? Whenever he manages to tear himself away from his…meeting?”
“Sure, whatever.” Esme had gone back to her crossword. I took another last look toward David’s office. Miss Falk had stood and was leaning toward David who also stood to clasp her in a warm embrace. I felt the cracks splinter and crawl over my heart.
Squat, fat, and ugly. That was about how I felt after seeing David and Mari Falk cozied up together like that. To think that I'd made the effort to get dressed in an attempt to look sexy. I shook my head, feeling pretty foolish with my earlier confidence.
Squat, fat and ugly was an entirely apt description of Ravena Valley’s near mushroom-shaped home nestled in the shadows of the Glimmer Mountain foothills. Part Tolkien, part Burton and wholly trippy, the entire eccentric structure resembled something that might house a hobbit or be dreamt up in a whimsical nightmare before a festive winter holiday.
“Don’t ever bring Jet here,” Shade warned. “That’s one serious ‘shroom!”
I grimaced. Forget Jet, I was beginning to have doubts about bringing Shade along on this little jaunt. Bad humor aside, having Gless Inlet’s most eligible feline bachelor in tow was making my own social shortcomings painfully apparent. He had insisted on giving me relationship advice during the entire broom-ride from Gless Inlet to Chalice.
“You know, I don’t hold the deed to Chief Trew’s heart, Shade. He’s got a right to see whomever he pleases.”
“Well, if you ask me, the good Chief needs to clean his glasses. Forget tuna. You’re the real catch, Hat!”
While I appreciated Shade’s pep-talk, I had to admit it wasn’t as if Miss Falk wasn’t attractive. It was easy to see why David found her so appealing. But my cat still wasn’t buying it.
“Ooh, Hattie! I tell ya, something isn’t right with that dame. And believe you me, I know dames.”
Onyx, who had also come along for the ride, scoffed at the self-professed lothario. In retrospect, out of the two cats, he was likely the better choice for this particular venture. His mind-reading skills would undoubtedly reveal some valuable information during the delicate questioning of Millicent’s former lover. But, I was also secretly glad he was here to hold Shade’s (well-meant) opinion in check.
“Oh, certainly,” Onyx agreed sarcastically. “And is that why Miss Poof gave you that little ‘love tap’ you’re sporting across your cheek?”
Chagrin mellowed Shade’s features, but not his enthusiasm. “Okay, okay, okay. So maybe my reflexes aren’t quite what they used to be. But I’m telling you. My intuition is spot on. Underneath that cool exterior, that babe is double-bubble, boiling trouble!”
“Whatever, Shade,” I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. “David is his own man.”
I turned my attention back toward Ravena Valley’s unique abode. The dwelling seemed to sprout up from the landscape itself, a living thing in symbiosis with its environment instead of a rude encroaching salt box plopped on usurped surroundings. The asymmetrical, warped shingles that rode up the exterior walls of the house resembled the finely stacked lamella, the gills that packed along the underside of most Basidiomycota that a vigilant hiker might find nooked in the cooling shade of a wooded thicket.
The roof rolled in undulating eaves, a golden-green cap of Mexican feathergrass rippling in raspy whispers as the breeze drifted in from the Crystal Sea. Stones, smoothed by the punishing waves, had been painstakingly carted up the hill from the shore below and cobbled into a winding path leading up to the a
rched, planked door, crafted lovingly from driftwood. A lot of love had gone into building this particular home. A crooked chimney jutted its way up through the grass roof. A thin column of smoke drifted lazily into the azure sky.
Well, I guess that means she’s home.
I just hoped she was in the mood for company.
I leaned my broom against the limestone-plastered edge of the house and rapped four sharp knuckles on the door.
A faint shuffling emanated from within the dwelling. Eventually, the door opened with a creaking hesitation. A diminutive figure, a tiny, blonde wisp of a woman, peeked around the jamb with the temerity of a mouse looking for a bit of cheese. Her curls lay in flattened clumps, plastered against the sides of her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Shadowed underneath.
Ravena Valley was in mourning. I’d had my share of date-nights with the tissue box, so it was easy to recognize the signs. But this display of vulnerability was certainly not what I had expected after her brazen outburst at Town Hall.
“May I help you?” Ravena Valley’s voice cracked with apparent grief. Gone was the fire and brimstone that had erupted in the face of the unflappable Governor Shields. That day, pure rage had filled the small woman’s face. Murderous rage.
That’s when I saw the menacing Taser clutched in her free hand. She must have sensed my hesitation because she shifted the balance of her body weight to shield the dangerous device from my line of vision.
I was suddenly reminded that science could be just as dangerous as magic. For a moment, I began to second guess coming here without David’s support.
Ah, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I needed to find out about that necklace.
“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, Dr. Valley,” I said. “My name is Hattie Jenkins. I own The Angel Apothecary on Glessie Isle? We met--sort of--at the meeting at Gless Inlet Town Hall. Regarding the runway proposal and the future of the Least Tern?”
Murder, Magic, and Moggies Page 66
