I think he might need the bathroom, Raoul said. You know how the prostate gets with dudes his age.
“I can still hear you,” Ian said. “The session hasn’t ended yet.” One of the ways Ian was able to work with us so easily was by linking his mind to ours. That enabled him to hear Raoul’s thoughts, like I did.
“Where’s the fire, Ian?” I asked. “You have me worried.”
Ian tightened the belt around his cloak. “The sooner the sessions ends, the sooner I unlink my mind from Raoul’s,” he said.
I laughed. “That bad, huh?”
Ian shuddered. “Like a black hole filled with garbage and pizza.”
Raoul shrugged. Sounds about right.
I watched Ian flee with a trace of amusement. “You need to stop torturing him like that.”
You can take it, Raoul said. Why can’t he?
“He’s not from New Jersey.”
While we’re on the subject of my pervasive thoughts, feel like splitting a pizza?
“I could eat,” I said. “As long as we get pepperoni.” After that, I had a visit to pay to a jewelry store.
You know what? There’s a pizza place right next to Gemma’s Gems, Raoul said.
I smiled. “Great minds think alike.”
Or one great mind just eavesdrops on another, reasonably good one.
I gave him a dirty look. “Whatever.”
7
I pushed open the door to the jewelry store, stuffed with pizza, and was immediately blinded by rows and rows of glittering gemstones. A fairy greeted me behind the counter, presumably Nathan Speedwell. The dead giveaway was his blond flowing hair that was reminiscent of Fabio—some model that graced the book covers of hundreds of romance novels that Miss Kowalski used to keep squirreled away in her closet.
"Welcome to Gemma’s Gems,” he said in a friendly tone. "We have the best prices this side of the Meadowsweet River."
“Meadowsweet River?" I queried. “I’ve never heard of it.”
His eyes popped. "Seriously? It’s the absolute best spot for fishing.”
“That explains it then," I said. "I've never been fishing."
Nathan splayed his hands on the counter. “What brings you in today?” His gaze swept over me and I could tell he was assessing my gemstone needs. The frown said it all. "Do you wear any jewelry? I don't think I've ever met a woman without a single piece of jewelry on."
I laughed. “Congratulations. Allow me to introduce myself. Ember Rose—without jewelry since birth. Wait, that’s not strictly true. I have a few pieces of costume jewelry.” Very cheap costume jewelry.
He peered at me. “Rose, did you say?”
Here we go. "That's right. You probably know my aunt, Hyacinth Rose-Muldoon.”
“I’ve heard of her, of course," Nathan said. “Aster is a regular customer.” He paused, thinking. "Well, technically, it’s her husband, Sterling. She’s one lucky witch. He spares no expense when he comes in here.”
“I’ll have to pay closer attention to her jewelry from now on,” I said.
“If you’re not here for jewelry, then what brings you in?”
Showtime. “I heard you were seen quarreling with a seer at the carnival recently.”
He grimaced. “Madame Bovary? How did you know about that? Did the old hag file a complaint?”
“Not exactly,” I replied. “The old hag is dead.”
Confusion flickered across his granite features. “Dead? As in no longer living?”
“That's the generally accepted definition,” I replied.
He stared over my shoulder, into a blank space. “When?”
“Same day as your argument,” I said. “She was bludgeoned with her crystal ball.”
He pressed his fingers to his chest. “That's terrible. What an awful way to die. Does anyone know what happened?”
“The sheriff is investigating.” I paused. “Can you tell me why you were so distressed when you were seen with her?”
The fairy seemed to catch on. “You don't think…” He ran both hands through his luxurious mane. “I’ll admit I wasn’t happy with what she told me during my reading, but I would never have taken it out on her.”
“Arguing with her in public doesn’t constitute taking it on her?” I asked pointedly. Could have fooled me.
“I’m not a novice. I happen to have a lot of experience with predictions, and I know that seers are simply the messengers.”
I pressed my lips together. “The voice of the gods, you might say?”
“Exactly.” He leaned against the wall, still processing the news. “Am I the only suspect?”
“I’m just gathering information,” I said. “I don't work in law enforcement. I’m a reporter for Vox Populi.”
He broke into an engaging smile. “My wife gets your paper every week. I’m not much of a reader, but she loves it.”
“Thank you.” I tried to turn the conversation back to his argument with Madame Bovary. “What did the seer say that upset you so much?”
He blew out a breath. “It was about my wife, Gemma.”
I softened. “You named your jewelry store after your wife?”
Nathan nodded. “She is my diamond in the rough. I’d be nothing without her. That’s why I was so distraught when Madame Bovary told me that Gemma is having an affair.”
Yikes. That wasn’t news a client wanted to be on the receiving end of. “You don't believe it?”
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “She would never cheat on me. We’re devoted to each other.”
“No offense, but how do you know?” In my experience, partners often were blindsided by the betrayal.
“Gemma’s father was a serial cheater,” the fairy explained. “It was extremely important to her that she marry someone without those proclivities.”
“And that's you?”
“We even swore a blood oath,” he said. “Fairies rarely do blood oaths, but that's how committed we were to not stray, and to discuss any issues in the marriage before they spiraled out of control.”
There was still a question lingering in my mind. “What would Madame Bovary have to gain by telling you something so inflammatory about your wife? She didn’t know you, right?”
“No, I think it's because she was a quack,” he said. “I told you that I have a lot of experience with fortune tellers. Right away, I felt that her answers were vague. She was definitely fishing for information.”
“And that's not typical?”
“Not when you’re the real deal,” he replied. “If she’d been on the level, she wouldn’t have needed to ask such probing questions and impugn my wife.”
“Impugn,” I repeated. “My daughter would love that word.”
“It isn't one I get to use very often, I'll say that much.”
“What kind of probing questions did she ask?”
“Well, she seemed very interested when I mentioned that I owned a jewelry store.”
“She did wear a lot of huge rings. Maybe she hoped to add to her collection before she left town.”
“I was too upset to focus on much else,” Nathan said.
“Why didn’t you say something at the time?”
“I was in shock, I think. It wasn’t until after I left that I began to get angry. I decided to go back and confront her. When I arrived at the tent, she was standing outside on her phone. I just started talking, didn’t even wait for her to hang up.” He wiped his brow. “I was incensed.”
“Did you go inside the tent at all?”
“No, I stormed off when she apologized,” he said. “Once she said she was sorry, all the anger sort of left me. She seemed upset by the whole ordeal.”
“I don’t think I’d like a big fairy like you yelling at me either,” I admitted.
He tapped his fingers on the counter. “I feel horrible now. Her last day on this planet, and I upset her. That’s bad karma.” He took a crystal out of the glass case and rubbed it for good measure.
“Don’t be t
oo hard on yourself,” I said. “You were reacting to an emotionally charged situation.” I tried to think of something positive to say. I quickly scanned the pendants in the glass case. “You do beautiful work, by the way. These are stunning. I particularly like that ruby amulet.”
He brightened. “Good taste must run in the family. That one is very similar to the one I sold to Sterling last week. I'm sure it looks incredible on your cousin. A Rose has a way of making everything look beautiful.”
Ha! Clearly this fairy hadn’t seen me with bedhead and crusty eyes at seven o’clock in the morning. “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”
I left Gemma’s Gems with no answers, but my conversation with Nathan raised another question—Madame Bovary had been distracted by a phone call when she was with me, and Nathan had mentioned catching her on a phone call as well. The seer clearly had been dealing with something--but what?
Hazel ambled into the cottage, clutching the Big Book of Scribbles to her chest. PP3 sniffed her feet for two seconds before deciding she didn’t require any further attention from him. He trotted to the couch and jumped onto a cushion, where he quickly curled into a ball like a cat.
“No miracle bag today?” I asked.
“Don’t need it,” Hazel replied, slamming the book onto the table. “I have a small bag of rocks in my cloak pocket. The book and the rocks are all we need.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Why are you carrying rocks in your pocket? Planning to take me on a field trip to the river?”
She slid into a chair at the table. “No, because today we’re going to paint them.”
I stared at her. “We’re painting rocks? As part of our lesson?”
Hazel clasped her hands on the table. “That’s right. Is that okay with you, or do you plan to whine about the mean Mistress-of-Runecraft forcing your artistic hand?”
“You know me so well.”
Hazel dumped the pile of small rocks on the table and placed them in size order. I shot her a quizzical look.
“You didn’t really need to arrange them like that, did you?” I asked.
Hazel pursed her lips. “It makes the project easier.”
I folded my arms. “You mean it eases the gremlins in your brain.”
She glared at me. “If you’d bother to pay attention during your lessons, you would know that the size and weight of the stone can make a difference to the spell you’re performing. So you need to choose carefully when deciding which runes to paint on which stones.”
I examined the row of rocks on the table. “So if I want to emphasize a certain element of the spell, I’d want to make sure that rune was painted on a weightier rock?”
“Basically, yes,” she replied. Hazel appeared pleased that I’d grasped the concept without the need to wand-whip me. Progress!
“What about colors?” I asked. “Do I paint the runes in black?”
“The color doesn’t matter,” Hazel said. “I find black easiest to work with, but I know you have strange tendencies, so choose purple if it floats your broomstick.”
“Fine, I’ll use black,” I said, and immediately hesitated. “Wait a minute. Did you just use reverse psychology on me?”
Hazel suppressed a smile. “I have no idea what you mean.”
I harrumphed before retrieving Marley’s paint set from the craft closet. “What do you know about seers?” I returned to the table with a small bottle of black paint and a thin brush.
“Seers?” Hazel repeated. “Is this about the carnival murder?” She opened the Big Book of Scribbles and flipped to a page in the middle. “You really need to stop inserting yourself into these investigations. Focus more on your lessons and less on the sheriff’s job.”
“It’s my job, too,” I insisted. “I’m a reporter covering the carnival. I found the body.”
“Yes, yes, the body,” Hazel said dismissively. “You really need to stop doing things like that.”
I strangled a laugh. “I’ll be sure to remember your disapproval the next time I stumble upon a crime scene.”
“I heard someone choked her with her own headscarf,” Hazel said.
My brow wrinkled. “No, that’s not true. She was hit in the back of the head with her crystal ball.”
“Ouch,” Hazel said, and winced. “At least my stones are small. If you tried to knock me out with one of these”—She toyed with a stone no bigger than a quarter—“I’m fairly certain I’d make it out alive.”
I tapped the large book between us. “I don’t know, Hazel. The Big Book of Scribbles could do some serious cranial damage.”
She gave me alarmed look. “You seem to have given this some careful thought.”
I shrugged. “Not really.” Maybe a little.
Hazel opened the bottle of paint and moved it in front of me. “Choose five runes that you would be most likely to use in a spell.”
I studied the runes on the page. “Only five? How can I do that? It’s like choosing a favorite child.”
“Good thing you only have one of those,” Hazel said wryly.
I chose five, not based on the likelihood of use, but on the ease with which I could draw the symbols. What can I say? I’m lazy when it comes to runecraft.
“Still waiting to hear about seers, Hazel,” I said, painting a few crooked lines on the largest stone. I wasn’t exactly renowned for my fine motor skills.
“What do you want to know?” Hazel asked.
“Other than telling fortunes, what else do they do?” I asked. “Is there any other aspect to the job that might upset someone, or that might have upset Madame Bovary?”
Again, I remembered her unpleasant phone call when Marley and I went to see her. Something had been amiss in her life.
Hazel gazed thoughtfully at the framed photograph of Balefire Beach on the wall. The beach was Marley’s happy place, so we’d decided to memorialize it with artwork.
“Insurance,” Hazel finally said.
I craned my neck to follow her gaze. “You saw a picture of Balefire Beach and immediately thought of insurance?”
She offered a saucy look. “Must be those pesky gremlins in my brain.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What does insurance have to do with seers?” I asked.
“I don’t know about the victim, but some seers have insurance policies to protect themselves against inaccurate predictions.”
“Like if a disgruntled customer sues for damages?” If Nathan Speedwell had acted on Madame Bovary’s false reading, and divorced his wife, could Nathan or Gemma have sued her?
“Something like that,” Hazel said. “You can check with Jade Pepper.”
“Who’s Jade Pepper?”
“She’s a member of the coven who owns a local insurance company,” Hazel said, “which you would know if you paid closer attention. She offers hard-to-get policies, like the ones for seers.”
I rolled my eyes. “Now you sound like Florian telling me to pay closer attention to the moms at school. Look where they got me.”
Hazel seemed amused. “Yes, I heard that you joined the Power Puffs. How’s that going, by the way?”
“It’s going,” I said vaguely. “We have to prepare for the baking competition, but I barely have time to shave my legs, let alone brush up on baking magic.”
“I noticed,” Hazel said, with a disapproving glance under the table.
I ignored her. “I also think I need to increase my jewelry collection, as in—acquire some.” I showed off my ringless fingers.
Hazel laughed. “They take their jewelry very seriously.”
“As well as everything else,” I added. “You’ve never met such a competitive group. I noticed that I even eat faster when I’m with them. It’s a race to the bottom of the bowl.”
“I’m sure Marley appreciates your efforts,” Hazel said. “It can’t be easy being the new girl in school, and coming from the human world to boot.”
“That’s why I joined,” I said. “Mom guilt.” I turned my attention back to the unsullied rocks
.
Hazel pointed to a rune in the book. “You should do that one.”
The symbol looked far too complicated for my skill set. “Unless I’m doing a spell involving the Holy Grail, why would I need “chalice” on a stone?”
Hazel shook her head in dismay. “I’ve never felt like more of a failure than during our lessons.”
I held up my hand to give her a high-five. “Squad goals!”
Hazel stared at my hand as though it had magical cooties. “New Jersey must be such an odd place.”
I smiled. “You have no idea.”
8
Jade Pepper's office was located adjacent to the Pointy Hat, a clothing boutique introduced to me by Linnea. For an insurance office, the interior was surprisingly fancy. A white leather sofa and industrial-style coffee table decorated the lobby. When the receptionist greeted me, I was shocked to see a young man behind the desk, and quickly berated myself for my sexist thoughts. Marley would not approve.
“Welcome to Pepper Insurance,” the nymph said cheerfully. “Is Ms. Pepper expecting you?”
I clicked my fingernails on the desk. “She isn't, but if I could have a few moments of her time, I would really appreciate it.”
“Who may I say is here?”
As much as I hated to do it, I busted out the big guns. “Ember Rose. You probably know my aunt, Hyacinth Rose-Muldoon.” Inwardly, I cringed. Twice in the span of two days. I pushed down my revulsion, convincing myself it was all for a good cause.
The receptionist practically tripped over his own feet to get to his boss’s office. “Of course. I'll see if she’s available.”
Moments later, Jade Pepper emerged from her office, trailed by her faithful assistant. She was striking in appearance. In fact, I was certain that I’d seen her somewhere before. She had the kind of beauty that stayed with you.
“Miss Rose,” she exclaimed. Sweet baby Elvis, even her voice was mesmerizing. “Welcome to Pepper Insurance. I am simply thrilled that someone of your stature would consider my enterprise for your insurance needs.”
She sounded awfully dramatic for an insurance broker. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” I said.
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