“Eternal vigilance is now part of your life, and I am sorry for that. Ekk and Elsa will stay until I feel it is safe, but that may be a very long time, even in your world. We will send someone for Valerie, but when and who, that is not for me to say just now. It is dangerous to communicate, but if there is great need, you will learn the ways from Elsa to get in touch. Panda, keep my daughter safe. I’m counting on you.” The image faded.
Puddle’s eyes were huge. She turned to me with new respect. “That was rad.” Seriously, I had to agree with her.
We all sat silent for a moment with our thoughts. I was puzzled. “Ekk? Can you explain a little bit more? It almost sounded like he was saying goodbye.”
Ekk cleared his throat, moved in front of Mitzi, and took her hand. It was a very gentlemanly gesture. “Mitzi, Panda, it is unheard of for any human to see what you have seen. That goes for you, too, Miss Puddle Fowler. You must forget it and go on about your ordinary lives. Our parallel worlds weren’t meant to overlap like this. But, as you’ve seen, it was necessary. You may see Ehren again, or even visit the Hercynian Garden, but it will be rare and not for a long time.”
Mitzi’s eyes turned glassy. “I just found my real dad, and I’ve lost him again.”
“No, just keep the octopus pendant near. That’s how you will call him if you need to.” Mitzi looked at me, and I looked at Ekk and then cast my eyes down.
“What?” Puddle said.
“Ekk, it’s gone,” I said. “The dwarves took it.”
“Are you sure?” Upon seeing my look, he said, “Of course you are. It’s probably back in the Black Forest by now. Mitzi, did you talk to your mother about it?”
“We’ve only talked once since I’ve been back.”
All eyes looked at her expectantly, and she sounded defensive when she said, “It didn’t come up.”
“Let’s give her a call.”
The house was rather messy, with Puddle camping out in the living room and the elves in and out of the kitchen, needing constant snacks to literally keep from disappearing. I found my phone in a jumble of TV remotes. “I’ll call.”
I dialed the number, and after two rings, Susan answered.
“Hey, Susan.”
“Panda, is Mitzi okay?”
I paused, thinking, I’m fine, thanks for asking, but I said, “Yes, are you okay?” Ekk and Mitzi sat around me in the living room and stared at me. I turned away. Their eyes were distracting me.
Susan said, “It’s been a time of remorse, of analyzing.” I inwardly groaned. Mitzi’s mom could go on for quite a time in a poetic vein. I cut her off as gently as I could.
“Susan, I have a question—well a lot of questions, but we’ll save those for a face to face sometime.”
“Don’t blame me...”
“I don’t blame you for anything, Susan.” Now I felt bad. I called for information and had given no thought to her fragile, if self-centered, state.
She sniffed. “What do you want to know?”
“The pendant you gave Mitzi, the one with the octopus? How did you get it? What’s the story on that?”
I punched the speaker button and let her talk.
“Which one?”
All three of us at my house looked at each other. “How many are there?” Mitzi asked.
“Two. They were given to me by the seer at Ehren’s palace for protection. When I left with you, they were worried about your safety. Ehren gave me one ceremoniously, and this kind old woman gave me the other.”
Ekk zeroed in. “Susan, this is important.”
“Who is this?”
“Ekk, I’m a guardian elf.” This had all started to sound so normal. “Who was the woman who gave you the twin pendant? Can you describe her?”
“So many questions. It was a long time ago.” She started to cry again.
Mitzi jumped in and said, “Mom, hold it together. No one is blaming you for anything. It would take a long time to explain, but it’s important. Can you just try to remember?”
“Okay, I was on my way out to the carriage to leave, and a woman approached from the shadows. She seemed to know everything that had happened and said I must always keep you safe. I was touched by her gesture. She didn’t tell me her name but handed me a package with a pendant in it just like the one Ehren gave me.”
I tried not to get irritated. It was just like Susan to take a magical item and not get details. Aaargh. “Was there anything on the wrapping? What did the woman look like?”
“So many questions! I don’t know. The two necklaces looked alike to me. I threw away the wrapping. It did have a little raven on it, come to think about it.”
I asked the most important question that was in all our minds. “Do you still have the other pendant?”
“I think so. Let me look.”
We all talked softly about the implications of this while she was away from the phone. “Yes, it’s here.”
Ekk’s ears quivered, and he said, “I’ll be right over.” By the time I swiveled my head at this, he had run out the back of our house at lightning speed. I wondered if he knew she was four-hundred miles away, or if that even mattered to an elf.
Mitzi continued to talk to her mother in reassuring tones until Susan said, “Excuse me, someone’s knocking at the door.”
We could hear her in the background. Suddenly, Ekk’s breathless voice came through. “She’s got it.”
“Mitzi, shall I give it to this elf?”
Why did Susan always make me want to scream? “Yes,” Mitzi and I said in unison.
“Now if you don’t mind, I’m very tired.”
“Okay, Mom, thanks. We’ll be up to visit soon.” Mitzi swatted me as I made a face. We rang off and sat waiting for Ekk’s return. It was several hours, and he came in very hungry. “That took way too much energy. I flew back commercial.”
Mitzi jumped up to get the sandwiches she had prepared for this eventuality, and I patted the seat next to me. “More elf magic?”
He blushed a little. “Yes, there was no time to waste. I used our emergency elf hole to Northern California.” He reached into his little pocket and pulled out a duplicate of the pendant I’d been carrying until recently. Mitzi entered with a tray of grilled cheese and root beer, Ekk’s favorites, and looked in wonder at the pendant I was holding. “It looks like the one that got stolen, but it’s different somehow.”
Mitzi was very sensitive.
“I know,” I said. “First off, it’s tingling. The other one didn’t do that. Ekk, are you sure this is safe?”
He paused between bites and said, “More than safe. This is a very powerful protection charm.”
“Then it belongs here,” I said as I looped it over Mitzi’s lovely neck, taking care to make sure it didn’t get tangled in her beaded braids. It looked perfect.
Mitzi smiled at me, and I had a sudden thought. I turned to Ekk. “So was the other one not a charm?”
“Apparently, not at all.” He chuckled.
“Ha! Those thieves got nuthin’. Wait a minute.” A thought was starting to dawn on me.
Ekk grinned. “You remember when you decked the evil dwarves?”
“How could I not?”
“All you.” I noticed for the first time how the skin around Ekk’s eyes crinkled merrily when he smiled.
Puddle was, for once, silent, and Mitzi seemed to be having the same thought I was.
My eyes couldn’t have been bigger as I sank back into our couch. “Holy shit.”
“I knew you had it in you, babe.” Mitzi encircled my head and kissed the top of it.
“You rock, sis. I’m going to go chant.” Puddle lifted herself effortlessly, the result of years of yoga, and headed out to the backyard.
I thought about our adventures in Castle Schwarzwald and how safe I’d felt with the chain around my neck and I laughed. Ekk started laughing, too, and soon we were all in tears, telling stories and remembering.
“But a raven landed next to me and then flew aw
ay! When it didn’t give me away, I was sure that was the protection charm.”
“You know what happens when you assume, darling.” Mitzi collected our dishes and sauntered back to the kitchen.
Ekk responded seriously. “I wasn’t there. Who knows what bird brains think? They’ve waffled back and forth for ages and now seem to be staying out of the Great Conflict.” We pulled apart other details, and I sat a little taller, feeling like a bad-ass.
Brutus sauntered in and started meowing in that serious way he had lately acquired, now that he apparently knew a message might be understood.
Mitzi returned, picked up our boy, and said she wished we had a tiny pendant to hang on his collar.
Chapter Twelve
MAYOR TOM REED was getting nervous. On the ninth floor of City Hall, he looked out at his city. Six weeks ago, his reelection was a done deal. Now there were citizens’ groups at every city council meeting beating the drum about the homeless and those damn feral cats. People also wondered about a murderer being loose.
He had nothing against the homeless. But even Jesus said the poor will always be with us; a mayor can’t solve every problem. It was that embarrassment at the museum in Councilman Gary Smithers’ district that started all this. Richard Mortimer died in Gary’s district, too, and then there was the press conference fiasco.
He looked down through his window at District Seven as if he could see Gary actively working against him. Maybe a call to the press was in order. His office was big and airy, the walls covered with awards, pictures of himself with well-known politicians and celebrities, and accolades from civic groups. He really did love his city, almost as much as he loved himself. But there was work to do. He turned from the window and sat at his heavy oak desk and buzzed his secretary.
“Margaret, where’s that coffee?”
“I’ll be right in, sir, and you have two visitors, an Alexandra Stephanovsky and a Detective Potts. They say it’s urgent.”
“No appointment? Send ’em in anyway, but make sure the city attorney stops by.”
“Done.”
A few minutes later, a rap came on the door and Margaret led in the unlikely duo. The mayor knew who they were, and his face held a puzzled expression.
He stood up and shook hands with them then took his steaming mug of coffee from Margaret. After pleasantries and a similar cup placed in the defense attorney’s hands, they got down to business.
“This is a surprise. You remind me of the way a lot of jokes start...a cop and a defense attorney walk into a bar.” He laughed heartily. When his joke didn’t rock the room, he set his coffee down. “You said it was urgent?”
Alex spoke first. “Yes.”
He chose to turn to Potts as if it were he who had spoken. “Detective, it’s unusual to see you in the company of the enemy.” Big white-toothed smile. “No offense, Ms. Stephanovsky.”
She gave a fake laugh. “None taken. I think you meant to say ‘defender of the constitution.’”
It was an old argument.
Mayor Reed sat back in his chair and was winding up for a long exhortation, but Potts’s patience with small talk was exhausted. “Mayor, you’ve known me for years, at least by reputation. Have I ever come to you?” The mayor opened his mouth, but Potts answered his own question. “No, I have not.” He pointed to Alexandra and himself. “We’re here together to show you that there’s a problem in this town, and we believe you’re the person to make it right. It cuts across lines.”
Reed leaned forward, folded his hands, and waited for them to say more. Abruptly, there was a knock on the door, and the city attorney poked his head in. “Bob,” Reed said, “join us.” Then to Alex and Charlie he said, “I asked the city attorney to listen in. Saves time. It sounded important.”
Bob and Alex exchanged nods, obviously familiar with one another.
Potts was literally risking his career, saying the words he next said. “I’m not sure who killed Dick Mortimer, but I”—he looked at Alex—“we know City Councilman Smithers is involved.”
The mayor paid rapt attention. “Look, I know he was involved in bringing our police over to that house on Thistle Drive. His cousin lived across the street from them. That’s a long way from murder.”
“No, no, we’re not saying he killed Dick Mortimer, but he’s definitely involved in police corruption.”
Reed was all seriousness now. “Do you have any proof?”
Alex opened her Louis Vuitton bag and brought out an envelope with a stack of pictures that she tossed on the shiny desk. “The call used to justify the search warrant came from inside the precinct, and this is from the night your officers arrested Panda and Mitzi Fowler.”
She pointed to Panda and Mitzi, who were in the forefront of the pictures. Mayor Reed had heard about their arrest, along with the curator of the museum and a woman he assumed was her wife. The pictures were in the floodlight the Castlebaum woman made famous. They looked like stills from a graphic novel. The women appeared to be tired and bedraggled, and his officers were handcuffing them. In one picture, a woman with her hair sticking up looked ready to rip somebody’s head off. It was Panda Fowler.
“So these lesbians are behind it?” He was puzzled. “What am I looking at?”
Alex moved in, irritated. “Look over here. Gary Smithers was unintentionally caught in the frame. Fiona uses infrared photography in addition to regular film, so she can pick up details like this, even in the dark.”
In the edge of the picture, Richard Mortimer was walking away and Smithers had his wallet out. He appeared to be handing money to a police officer in the dark of the parking lot. A shadow was following Richard.
“How did you get these?” Mayor Reed fanned them so Bob could see.
Potts said, “Fiona Castlebaum sent them to Alexandra. Sometimes side issues present themselves in her art pieces, and this is a big side issue.”
“I’m surprised,” Bob said, “she didn’t just do an installation on corruption in Merryville and finish the trash job she started the other night.” He clearly wasn’t happy with the visitors.
Alex jumped in. “Juniper Gooden, the current director, has had a chance to talk to her. I don’t think Fiona is our enemy here. She’s really trying to help.”
Bob grunted. “I’m going to need those pictures.”
Mayor Reed squinted and put on his glasses, something he didn’t do in public. “And who is this cop?”
“We don’t know yet,” Potts said, “and this is what concerns me. I don’t know how infected the department is. I wanted to make sure this went all the way to the top so you know we’re all on the same side before I start rattling cages.” He pointed to the officer in the photo. “This is the same cop that tried to warn me away from the museum.” Potts relayed the story of what happened at Denny’s.
“Wait a minute,” Reed said. “Gary Smithers knows this cop. Have you asked him about it yet?”
“No, in casa as they say. There’s a bolo out,” Potts answered. “We already knew Smithers was related to the woman who pointed the police department to the Fowlers. This is a whole ’nother deal. His council office was my first stop after seeing this picture where he’s giving this guy money after the arrest of these women.”
“Find that cop and Smithers. I’ll deal with the police commissioner.”
Alexandra started to speak, but Potts grabbed her arm. “Yes, sir.”
The door closed on the detective and the defense attorney, and Bob launched into his questions. “Shall I make a few quiet inquiries?”
Mayor Reed sat seething. He and Bob put their heads together. “If they’re right, we need to move now.”
“Agreed. What do you need?” Reed called for Margaret. “Call the police commissioner. Hell, get everybody on the Commission for Pubic Corruption. Get them in here now.”
ALEX AND CHARLIE walked silently to the town hall parking lot and got into his new Chrysler 300. “You’re a good cop, Charlie. It was a big risk going to the brass.” Potts
wheeled onto the street and sighed. “I’m ready to retire, anyway. Shall I drop you at your office?”
“Please.” She needed to get to work. “And thank you.”
Charlie patted his pocket and decided not to smoke. “For what?”
“Trusting me.” When they stopped at her office parking lot near the courthouse, she got out and started to open her car’s door, then she ran back to Charlie’s window.
“Did you forget something?” he asked, puzzled.
“Just be careful, Charlie. It’s okay if you call me sometime.” She patted his arm, jumped into her little Mercedes, and drove out of the parking lot like a shot. He sat stunned, feeling his feelings.
THE NEXT DAY, the Merryville Bee printed the following:
MERRYVILLE MUSEUM TO HOST NEW EXHIBIT
In honor of former Chairman Richard Mortimer, the museum is featuring a retrospective of his work, including selections from his final exhibit,with commentary by family and friends.
The former FLOODLIGHT! exhibit has also been reinstalled and will present exciting new information, kept strictly secret for now. Fiona Castlebaum was interviewed in Sweden and would only say it “pulls the camera back for perspective, not only in scale, but over the arc of time.” She did not further explain her comment and said she has no plans to attend the re-launching of her work. “Been there, done that,” she said. “I’m not sure the mayor of Merryville would be glad to see me just yet!” A source close to the investigation of Richard Mortimer’s death, who wished to remain anonymous, said she probably would not return because she was a person of interest. Juniper Gooden, acting curator, commented only that “Art should be fearless.”
LINDA CHICOLET AND others on the board tried mightily to block Juniper from her plans.
“Dick Mortimer hasn’t even been buried,” Linda said. “This is a slap in the face to his family. You know how he hated the Floodlight exhibit.”
“Linda,” Juniper said, “you haven’t even seen it. You left that night, right? We decided to get this out there right away. Also, there are two exhibits.”
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