“I have the tarot cards finished.”
“Already?” Mia asked.
“After Gleb and his murderous protégé were here, I made it my mission to complete them posthaste. Plus, the tarot people want to take advantage of your image being in the deck.”
“Damn it, I was hoping they wouldn’t be on the shelves until my father went back to work.”
“It’s art.”
“It’s an opening for him to lecture me about how I’m living my life.”
Acalan laughed.
“Your wings are different,” he said, his eyes shining.
“Same in structure, different in color. My choice. I want to look less like a thug and more like someone you would listen calmly to.”
“When your place clears out, I would like to paint them. Maybe do a portrait of the whole family.”
“I’d like that. Can I afford it though?”
“That depends. How about we barter?”
Mia lifted an eyebrow.
“Model for me.”
“I don’t know. Ted still can’t look a gargoyle in the face.”
“You wouldn’t have to be naked.”
“I’m the mother of daughters; my naked days are finished.”
“There is a market for fantasy portraits. Not only for book covers but wall art. Look up John Jude Palencar.”
Mia flipped open her phone and connected to the internet and looked up the artist. She was impressed.
“I’ve already made a name for myself with the tarot deck. I’d like to move on to something I can get my teeth into.”
“Why me?”
“Fabulous bone structure, the ability to sit still, and you’re only half ugly,” he listed.
“You’ve got me there. I just don’t have the time. I’m nursing the girls.”
“Let me come to you. Varden says you have a studio for him upstairs.”
“Yes but…”
“Mia, let’s start with one. If I sell the image to make a poster, I’ll give you a better cut than Max gave you.”
“Is this why you gave Dieter the job?”
“No. Grandma Z is going to be with her sister while she goes through her first chemotherapy appointments. I need someone I can depend on here. I know how you raised him.”
“He raised himself, and he is very responsible. I’ll talk to Ted,” Mia promised.
Acalan smiled from ear to ear.
Varden walked home with a strut. He had caught four sizeable trout. Charles and Don had each caught two. Mia, who was sitting on the porch, got up and walked over and admired the fish.
“Grandpop says if I caught them, I have to clean them. Can I have a knife?”
“No. Tell them you’ll trade a chore. Like brushing the dried mud out of Grandpop’s shoes or helping Mr. Braverman with his dish chore tonight.”
“But no knife,” he said, disappointed.
“Not yet. I’d like you to have fingers to draw and paint with.”
“Can I watch?”
“Yes.”
Varden ran over to the men and told them what Mia said.
Don scratched his head and looked over at Mia.
“No knife,” she said.
“Mia?” Charles started.
“He’s barely over two, no knife. Dad, think back to what I was like at three.”
“You nearly sliced off your foot,” Charles said.
“And that was with a scissors.”
“Come on, Varden, you can clean Grandpop’s boots while we clean the fish.”
Cid looked over at Mia and back again. Ted kept pulling up more paintings by John Jude Palencar, and Cid would look at Mia. Finally, the dragons were displayed.
“Now I can see it,” Cid said. “I vote yes.”
“You don’t get a vote. She’s my wife,” Ted said.
The three were waiting for Burt to arrive. Mia had asked Ted whether he thought it would be a good idea to pose for Acalan again.
“Not naked.”
“Not naked,” Mia confirmed.
“Does anyone want to hear my opinion?” Jake as Marvin the Martian asked.
“Go ahead,” Mia said.
“You didn’t want to pose for Gleb. Yet there are these appearing in the Ukraine.” Jake showed the group the graffiti where a very Mia-like woman was now the symbol for a new Ukraine. “I don’t think you can stop it from happening, so you might as well get a cut of the action.”
“We can check that country off our list of must-sees,” Ted said. “How scary is that?”
Enos walked into the room. He looked at the graffiti and at Mia.
“Please don’t start,” she whined and put down her head.
He reached down and put his hand to her forehead. “You’re not sick.”
“But I’m feeling picked on.”
Enos didn’t know how to respond, so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
“Hicks in the drive, followed by a sheriff’s cruiser,” Jake announced.
They waited.
“Hicks, Tom Braverman, and a tall blonde blue-eyed male dressed in a suit.”
Ted opened the blinds, and the trio were carrying in a covered cardboard file box each.
“I hope that’s not homework,” Cid said. “I’m cooking that trout tonight.”
“I didn’t see your name on the schedule,” Mia said.
“I bumped Judy. She was fine with it when I explained they were Varden’s fish.”
“Clever,” Mia said.
Burt escorted the others in. Enos was introduced to Whitney.
Mia begrudgingly got up and gave Whit a hug. She also confirmed he had two busted ribs.
“Nice to see you,” she said and sat down between Enos and Cid.
Whit looked at her a moment as if he expected more and returned his face to one of indifference.
Murphy moved in and shut both doors.
“I asked you all to be here to see if we can move any further with this investigation. Paula Glynn has been taken into custody for questioning,” Tom said.
“Why?” Enos asked.
“Because the marshals want to make sure she’s not breaking the rules and communicating with her family,” Whit answered. “And unfortunately, Homeland Security wants time with her because of the terrorist nature of the bomb attached to the gas line.”
“Does she have a lawyer?” Mia asked.
Tom nodded.
“Who were the dead dudes?” Ted asked.
“They were medical school cadavers dressed in clothes purchased from Goodwill. And no, there weren’t any cameras working in that store at the time,” Whit answered.
“What was on the nail heads?” Murphy asked.
“Potassium cyanide,” Whit read off his notes. “We think the nails were leftovers and were forgotten in the garage. We found more in a box in the corner.”
“Who leaves nails to rust?” Cid asked Murphy. Both were appalled by the waste.
“What’s in these boxes?” Mia asked.
“They’re for you to go through,” Burt said.
“Gee thanks,” Mia said.
“We’re looking for a tether,” Burt reminded her. “They’re from the Glynn house.”
“So you brought them to my home?” Mia asked. “Honestly, you don’t think.” She got up and pulled a box of salt out of the cupboard. She poured a line at the doors and tossed the box for Ted to pour a line into the grooved marble sills.
Burt closed his eyes. He could feel Mia’s anger. She was right; he hadn’t thought of the Martin family at all. He was just thinking of Paula Glynn.
Mia dumped out the first box, and she looked at the baby toys and photos. She turned to Enos. “Do you see any ether tendrils?”
Enos shook his head.
“Murph?”
“This box is clean.”
Mia repeated the procedure with the other two boxes. Her heart broke as many of the photographs wer
e of the young family. Derek was gone, and this was all his wife and son had left to remember him by.
“No tether here. Were there any suitcases - or how about a briefcase?”
“Paula had one with her,” Burt said. “She said the paperwork from the DA was inside.”
“Why would a briefcase or a suitcase act as a tether?” Whit asked.
“There has to be something in common with the traveling ghost and the person they are tracking. I read how a suitcase that a serial killer had pulled from the arrivals’ carousel and handed to his next victim became a tether. It brought him through the ether to her home after the killer died. Fortunately, the ghost was not powerful enough to do the woman harm. She saw him and called for help. You see, his sweat on the handle, and her sweat on the handle, created a bond.”
“But why destroy it with a blast?” Tom asked himself. He sat down and squeezed the toys. Flattening them with the palm of his hand. “What if Derek had insurance?”
“I’m not following you,” Whit said.
“What if he didn’t give all the incriminating evidence to the DA? What if, amongst this stuff or in the briefcase, there is a Microdrive or a code that gets us into a dark website that stores files that would pull the Franco family down internationally?”
“They’ve had years to cover their tracks,” Whit said.
“But they wouldn’t,” Ted reasoned. “If they did act rashly, it would call attention to how they have been doing business. Or they may not believe he had anything. They are just cleaning up, nothing more.”
“What about the ghost I saw with Quimbanda markings on his face? Power tattoos,” Mia asked.
“Macario Franco,” Burt told her.
“Where did you see Franco?” Whit asked.
“In the house where Derek died. I saw Macario, first, through Paula’s eyes and then through Noah’s. He is haunting them. He may be leading the Francos to them to collect whatever Derek was holding over their heads. I want to make this very clear: Macario Franco does intend on killing Paula and Noah. He’s not right in the head. If Derek had any relatives alive when he was sentenced, I would be concerned that they may be next. He’s attacking in order of importance.”
“Like Pumpkin Head?” Tom teased.
Mia blushed. “Not exactly. A Pumpkin Head kills everyone associated in the crime.”
“What does Pumpkin Head have to do with this?” Whit asked.
“Nothing,” Tom said quickly. “Just looking for a point of reference.”
Jake studied Mia while the others were tossing out theories. She closed her eyes. He could tell she was tired. The woman who had been healed by angels had still gone through a trauma not long ago. She was feeding two human babies round the clock. Her home was not only besieged by well-intentioned relatives but also by Noah and the Bravermans. She had put a lot of the organization in Lazar’s hands, but she still was the hostess of this circus. And now her peace was being shattered by dealing with two ex-boyfriends who put their agendas first.
Mia cleared her voice. “Gentlemen, I suggest you get ahold of the briefcase ASAP. Put it on ice until you find this Macario’s body. Remember, no matter how well something is preserved, they need a vehicle long enough to move it, and maybe refrigeration or a cool place to store it. Follow the breadcrumbs. I’d look into the medical school. I bet Macario once rested there. He’s closer now. I can feel his hatred.”
Mia got up and walked out the door.
Ted excused himself. He ran after his wife. “Mia, wait.”
She turned and gave him a weak smile. “Those boxes of memories have pulled all my energy away. I’m going to go and lay down.”
“I didn’t know he was coming.”
“Who?”
“Whit.”
“He’s not the problem. Give me some time to sort things out. Right now, part of me is still experiencing Paula’s emotional breakdown after finding her husband dead. Tell Murphy to shadow Noah for a while, just in case those imbeciles left a trail of breadcrumbs for that monster to follow. He may need the briefcase to find the Glynns when they move, but he’s been here awhile. He doesn’t need it to stay.”
“I’ll have Jake up the ghost deterrents tonight,” Ted said. He swept Mia up in his arms and carried his exhausted wife the rest of the way home.
Whit stepped outside to suppress his anger at Mia for walking away without really talking to him. Didn’t he deserve a kind word? When he saw Ted pick her up, he felt bad. Maybe she was ill. He had no concept of the toll all this was taking on her. He had heard that she had become this machine. Those rumors were wrong. Mia Cooper Martin was just a flesh and blood woman with some extraordinary talents.
Ted lay Mia down and took her shoes from her feet. He knelt by the bed and put his head on her stomach. Mia pulled off his hat and ran her fingers through his curly auburn hair.
“I love you, Ted.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to play with the boys anymore.”
“I sensed that.”
“They’re mean.”
“All of us smart men are mean sometimes,” Ted said. “We hide our vulnerability behind a mask of cruelty. It’s wrong, but it’s how we survived our peers.”
“Murphy broke two of Whit’s ribs.”
“He’s a smart man,” Ted said.
“I haven’t seen your father apart from meals. I think he is hiding.”
“He’s a smarter man.” Ted got up and slid beside his wife. He pressed his lips to hers gently. “Besides being bullied by us males, what’s going on, pumpkin?”
“I’m a little overwhelmed. Even with everyone pitching in, I feel like I can’t breathe. Everywhere I turn, there is someone I should be kind to.”
“Except Whit. You can be mean to Whit.”
Mia laughed.
“I’ve got to go and finish up with the meeting. I don’t trust Whit nosing around the office, and I know Cid’s itching to get out of there and prepare his trout. I’m going to tell Nanny Berta to feed the girls sour cherry juice and leave you alone.”
Mia laughed. “I don’t mind the girls. I think I’ll go up to the third floor and meditate for a while.”
“If you see my dad up there, tell him he’s on the beer run. That will make him happy. The man loves to buy beer.”
“Will do,” Mia said.
Ted left Mia and ran down the stairs. He heard the elevator being called and assumed Mia was headed to the third floor. It worried him that she wasn’t climbing the stairs. He texted Baxter and asked if he had a moment to give him a call. His phone responded immediately.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s late in London,” Ted started.
“I don’t exactly keep Greenwich Mean Time,” Baxter said. “What’s going on?”
“I’m worried about Mia. Physically, she’s exhausted - and I know, what do I expect with the circus going on around here right now - but what concerns me is, she’s too nice.”
“She’s hiding emotional pain perhaps?” Baxter asked.
“Maybe. I was thinking postpartum depression, but she’s not acting depressed, just not her normal self.”
“Who’s there now?”
Ted listed everyone.
“I think she’s just overwhelmed. Remember, sensitives have to adjust to each person they come into contact with. Quentin gets very emotional if we have more than ten people to dinner.”
“Also, there is this investigation and…” Ted brought Baxter up to date and then explained that Mia was picking up on the anger of the entity.
“I’m on my way,” Baxter said and hung up.
Ted didn’t think anything was odd about Baxter not saying goodbye. He didn’t believe in goodbyes either.
Chapter Eighteen
Mia finished feeding her daughters and apologized to her guests. “I’m going to make an early evening of it.”
She headed to the third floor and out onto her patio. Someone was sitt
ing in her lounge chair. She walked closer, and the starlight revealed Baxter.
Mia put her hand on her heart. “When did you come? Where’s Quentin?”
Baxter stood up and looked at the camera and said, “Jake, I’m taking Mia to the mansion. Ted knows.” He put a hand on Mia’s arm, and the two disappeared.
Mia found herself in the dark ballroom. She sunk to the floor and ran her hand on the highly polished floor.
A bright light came on over her. She put her hand up to shade her eyes. “Um, I confess.”
Baxter, who walked over and held out his hand to her, asked, “Confess to what?”
“Whatever you want, just turn off that damn light.”
“You’ll never make it as a spy. Get to your feet. Why are you on the floor?”
“I really don’t know?”
“You’ve changed again,” Baxter said, running his hand along her back. “Gone are your weapons. Was this your choice?”
“It was part of a promise made to me.”
“You’ve also been with Roumain, I can smell the frankincense laced with jasmine. I think it’s too soon for a lover.”
“I… I transferred…” Mia sputtered. “Please read me. It will take too long to explain.”
Baxter pulled her forehead to his. When he had finished, he was hesitant to let go of her face. He felt she needed something from him, but he was confused as to what it was. He took a step back. “Komal opened a door into a place that more than he can enter. There are old ones looking to share their stories with you. Mia, are you ready to hear them? This is another responsibility, frankly, for someone who has already transcended the physical state of being.”
“I want to be a counselor and not a combatant.”
“Those aren’t your words. They are words given to you by entities that are centuries older than you. They forget you are but a child, a mischief maker, and a clown. You can bring great instincts and experience to this world, but honestly, don’t we have enough sages? Where are our clowns? Just because circuses have gone the way of the dodo, having fun hasn’t. I can see toning the risk-taking down because you have children and a husband to raise, but don’t accept the mantel of responsibility that you can share with others or reject totally. I think the blast of blue-star energy frightened you. I saw you being compliant with Michael. He doesn’t need another obedient creature; he needs a little chaos. That’s why Azrael gave you to him.”
Crossroads Page 19
