Pied Piper (Modern Wicked Fairy Tales Book 14)

by Selena Kitt

  [Ice cream good but messy] Will signed to the little girl, whose face brightened when she realized he knew her language, but she didn’t reach for the napkins. She was too busy making grooves in the ice cream with her tongue.

  It was beautiful picnic weather, the sun bright in a cloudless sky, a light wind mitigating the heat. Perfect ice cream eating weather.

  [W-i-l-l] he signed, spelling it out slowly, not sure how good she was yet with the alphabet.

  The little girl responded with the hand not holding her cone, signing so quickly that a novice wouldn’t have caught it all.

  [P-i-p-e-r]

  [How old are you?]

  [Five]

  [Where is your family?]

  Piper, who had eaten her ice cream down to the cone, took a big bite of it, pointing toward the tables by the bar. Will wondered why her family would leave a six-year-old alone. He felt suddenly very protective of her and a little angry at the adults who had left such a small child to wander around the picnic on her own.

  Piper made quick work of the rest of her cone and reached for the napkins, crumpling them in her hands, rubbing them up and down over her chocolatey face. Will took one of the napkins from the table and dabbed at the spots she’d missed on her cheeks and chin.

  The little girl grinned at him and he saw she was missing one of her front teeth. The gap made her seem even cuter, if that was possible. She was like a little Shirley Temple—minus the ringlet curls. He was enchanted.

  [Let’s go find your family] Will signed, wondering if she would go with him to find them.

  Children were rightly taught not to follow strangers, and he was well aware of how it might look, a strange man leading a little child through the crowd. He loved children, even though he knew he probably would never have any of his own—he worked too much to settle down—but in this world, a smart man had to be careful about appearances when it came to interacting with anyone under the age of eighteen.

  Piper nodded eagerly, sliding off her chair. Her yellow dress, the hem unraveled on one side, came just to her skinned knees. She had several chocolate drips down the front. He noticed that someone had painted her toenails pink. They showed through her white open-toed sandals.

  The little girl reached for his hand and Will hesitated, glancing around. He was only trying to help her, for Pete’s sake!

  [You’re not afraid to go with a stranger?] he signed.

  She looked quizzically up at him, her freckled nose wrinkling. [You’re not a stranger]

  [We’ve never met before]

  [No] Piper agreed she’d never met his acquaintance. [You’re the doctor my mommy wants to meet]

  He blinked in surprise. But before he could ask her any more questions, Piper grabbed his hand—hers was still sticky—making communication impossible as she led him through a maze of clowns and tables full of food with balloons tied to the legs, threading through knots of people both talking and signing. Piper zipped through the crowd and Will could only try to keep up. He nearly tripped over a chair the little girl skirted around and then he barely avoided a collision with a waiter carrying a large tray of deli meat.

  Piper led him down the length of a buffet table that Will eyed with longing. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast—a hard-boiled egg and a cup of coffee gulped down before he left the house—and he was hungry. The roast beef and mashed potatoes looked appetizing. Maybe he would just hastily grab a crab cake? But Piper was on a mission and she wasn’t letting him stop for anything.

  Then, suddenly, the little girl halted so quickly that Will nearly tripped over her. He stopped himself, hands moving to her shoulders to steady himself and to make sure she was okay. She looked up at him and grinned, pointing to a pretty, young blonde server, clearly part of the catering crew, standing in front of an empty tray. The young woman looked frazzled and distracted, her gaze skipping through the crowd. When her eyes fell on Piper, she gave a visible sigh of relief, her face relaxing.

  “Haley!” The young woman’s boss, who stood a foot taller at least, towering as he admonished her for the empty tray. “Do. Your. Job!”

  The man clapped his hands after every word, as if for emphasis.

  “I’m sorry, Ian. It won’t happen again.” Haley winced and looked up, way up, at the man reprimanding her. “I was just looking for my daughter...”

  “That’s what you said last time.” He crossed his arms, biceps bulging even in his white dress shirt, flipping his sandy hair back with a toss of his head. He might be handsome, if not for the red slashing sneer of his mouth. “I thought you said your daughter wasn’t going to be an issue?”

  “She won’t. She isn’t. I mean...” Haley glanced toward Piper and then looked back at her boss.

  “It’s enough!” Ian threw up his hands in disgust. “I’m not responsible for your last-minute babysitter issues.”

  “I know.” Haley blinked fast and Will could tell she was on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I just—”

  “I know, I know.” Ian rolled his eyes. “You were just looking for your daughter. Which is what happens every single time I let you bring her with you. Instead of doing your work, you’re focused on keeping track of Piper. That girl is almost as much trouble as you are! You’re both troublemakers!”

  Haley’s face changed when he insulted her daughter, her eyes flashing with anger. Piper couldn’t hear what was happening, but Will knew she could read the body language, and she clearly sensed the same thing he had—there was trouble brewing. Even the picnic guests had begun to pay attention to the confrontation as they moved through the buffet line.

  Piper slipped away from him, heading down the length of the table toward her mother. Will didn’t follow, keeping a respectable distance as Piper yanked on her mother’s black trouser leg, trying to get her attention. He was still close enough to hear Ian reprimanding Haley, even though the man was clearly trying to keep his voice controlled so as not to alarm the guests.

  “Your daughter is not on my staff and she is not my responsibility.”

  “I know that.” Haley was practically whispering. Piper had moved from pulling on her mother’s pant leg to tugging on her crisp, white, fitted shirt. Haley’s hand moved down to pet the girl’s blonde head. “I said I was sorry. I’ll fill the tray now.”

  Piper grew more insistent, signing for her mother’s attention, but the young woman was too distracted and upset by her public upbraiding to notice. Haley wiped her high, clear forehead with the back of her hand, smoothing stray strands of her long, blonde hair back. It was pulled up tight and pinned underneath a little white paper hat.

  Ian’s attention went from Haley to her daughter, his mouth twisting in anger. “You! Go sit down in that chair and don’t move! Understand me?”

  Of course, Piper didn’t understand him. She couldn’t hear him. People often did this around the deaf, forgetting they couldn’t communicate in the usual ways.

  Haley glared at her boss, picking up the empty tray, opening her mouth to say something, but Ian had clearly reached his limit. He grabbed Piper by the shoulders and shook her. This got her attention and she cowered, trying to move away from him against her mother. But Ian held fast, turning her and beginning to march her toward a chair at an empty table.

  Will had seen enough. He strode down the length of the table, grabbing Ian by the shoulders the same way he’d grabbed the little girl. They were about the same height and build—Will spent a great deal of time at the lab, but Hamlen did have a gym for their employees that he used five times a week before work—so when Ian turned to face this new confrontation, his eyes widened in surprise. Clearly, the man was used to picking on people who weren’t his own size.

  Haley had her daughter already, holding her close and cradling her head against her shoulder. Touch was primary for the deaf and the little girl clung to her mother, glaring at Ian from the comfort of her mother’s arms. Will only had time to glance at them to make sure Piper was safe before turning his att
ention back to the real troublemaker in front of him.

  “Duh-doctor Pfeiffer.” Ian recognized him, a fact that Will decided to use. “I... I didn’t...”

  “No, you didn’t.” Will kept his voice down, knowing that Ratte would loathe a scene at his celebratory picnic. He wanted to wring Ian’s neck. He wanted to punch him, to keep punching him, until Ian’s face was bloody, and Will’s knuckles stung. But he couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Still, the man needed to be put in his place.

  “I’m... I’m sorry you had to see that, sir.” Ian swallowed, sneaking a glance at Haley and Piper, still embracing. “My employee and her daughter... well, they’re both a problem...”

  “No, Ian.” Will’s hands were clenched into fists and it took everything he had not to use them. The man looked surprised and taken aback that Will knew his name. “They’re not the problem. You’re the problem.”

  “Sir?” Ian looked perplexed.

  “If this is how you treat all of your employees—let alone the way you manhandled a six-year-old deaf child—I can assure you that your superior is going to hear about it from me.” Will saw real fear in Ian’s eyes. ”Now, if you ever want to work for Hamlen again, I suggest you apologize to this young woman for the way you treated her and her little girl.”

  Unfortunately, it was the best he could do, under the circumstances.

  “Oh, I... yes, of course. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir. I...” Ian was practically groveling, which was good.

  Will pushed him in the right direction. “Not me, Ian. Them. Apologize to them.”

  “Right.” Ian faced Haley and Piper, looking sheepish now, cowed. “Listen, Haley, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean... I understand it has to be hard to find sitters for a deaf kid. And Piper... I... I didn’t mean... can you just tell her I’m sorry.”

  Haley stood, her face stained with tears. Piper sniffled and clung to her mother’s side.

  “Tell her yourself.” Haley signed [I’m sorry], giving him a nod. “That’s how you say it.”

  “Oh.” Ian grimaced, but he awkwardly signed [I’m sorry]

  Piper wrinkled her freckled nose at him, and Will pressed his lips together to keep from laughing when she signed [asshole] back at him. Haley caught the motion and gasped, grabbing her daughter’s hand to keep her from saying any more.

  “What did she say?” Ian asked, frowning.

  “She said, ‘thank you’,” Will lied. He could imagine some future situation where Ian might use the sign Piper had made to say ‘thank you’ and that made him smile.

  A knowing look passed between Haley and Will and he saw her suppressing her own amusement.

  “Well, good. That’s it, then.” Ian straightened his shoulders, looking relieved.

  “Is it?” Will prompted.

  “I... well...” Ian stumbled over his words, looking from Will to Haley. Then, it dawned on him what Will was hinting at. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, Haley?”

  Will cleared his throat, crossing his arms. His biceps bulged as much as Ian’s had and Ian looked intimidated.

  “With pay, of course,” Ian added, managing to sound magnanimous.

  “Thank you,” Haley replied softly but she used the sign that Piper had used just moments before to describe the man: [asshole].

  Will had to turn his head to hide a grin.

  Ian picked up the tray Haley had discarded when she had run to comfort Piper and he left without another word, presumably to do the job that Haley had been neglecting while she was looking for her daughter.

  Haley signed quickly to her daughter, so quickly that Will only caught part of it, phrases like [I told you to stay where I could see you] and [don’t scare me like that ever again] and lastly, [you’re not allowed to sign words like ‘asshole’]

  Will watched this exchange as Piper responded just as fervently, telling her mother that she’d only left because she saw Dr. Pfeiffer and as for signing certain words, Piper resorted to the rationale of children since the beginning of humans, [but you did it!]

  When Piper mentioned him, Haley seemed to remember his presence and she stood and turned to him.

  “Thank you for that,” she said, once again smoothing flyaway hairs away from her face. “And for bringing her back to me.”

  “A real thank you?” Will asked, lips twitching, threatening a smile, as he signed [thank you]. “Or…?”

  Will signed [asshole], grinning.

  Haley laughed. “A real thank you. From the bottom of my heart.”

  She signed [thank you] and he returned with [you’re welcome].

  Piper had taken a seat in the empty chair Ian had threatened to put her in, seemingly exhausted by the entire day. Her thumb had crept into her mouth, a gesture she seemed a little too old for, presumably one that came over her when she was tired or stressed.

  “I should take her home,” Haley said, looking fondly at her daughter.

  “Sure you don’t want to stay?” Will asked, surprised by his own question. He found himself inexplicably drawn to this woman. He’d even found himself surreptitiously glancing at her ring finger, just to check. He wondered if she had a steady boyfriend. “There are a lot of things for Piper to do. And there’s a concert at dusk. And fireworks.”

  Will found himself adding events, as if each new one might tempt her to stay.

  “Well…” Haley bit her bottom lip, a gesture he found both endearing and a little sexy.

  “I’ll even try to win you one of those big white teddy bears.” Will pointed to one of the many carnival booths, this one in particular designed to take advantage of those who thought they might be skilled enough to hit three underinflated balloons with a very dull dart.

  “I wouldn’t have room for it in our little place.” Haley looked at the three-foot bear with regret. “It would have to sleep between me and Piper… and I think it would take up most of our twin bed.”

  That answered the boyfriend question, Will thought.

  “But… maybe we could stay for the fireworks.” Hayley offered him a shy smile that send sparks through his limbs, all the way to his fingertips and toes.

  [Mommy, I don’t feel good] Piper took her thumb out of her mouth to sign. That was just before what was left of her chocolate ice cream cone came back up. Along with what looked like pizza, a corn dog, French fries and perhaps cotton candy. At least, he assumed that’s what gave everything that blueish tinge.

  “Oh no.” Haley knelt beside her daughter, putting a hand to her forehead, feeling for a fever while Will collected a stack of napkins from the end of the buffet, helping Haley clean up the front of Piper’s dress the best they could.

  “She probably just had a little too much carnival food,” Will said as Haley checked the little girl’s forehead again. “And maybe too much sun.”

  “Probably.” Haley picked her daughter up and Piper rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, closing her eyes. “Listen, I really do need to go now… I’m sorry…”

  “I understand.” Will did, although he had to admit, he was disappointed they couldn’t stay. He took a little satisfaction in the fact that Haley did, indeed, look sad that she had to go. “You take care of her.”

  “Thank you again.” Haley stepped nimbly over the pile of vomit—a janitor was already on his way to clean it up, Will noticed—and started walking away.

  He wanted to catch up to her, talk to her. Maybe offer them a ride. He had been thrilled at the thought of her staying, had already been fantasizing about walking around the picnic arm in arm, eating some more carnival food, listening to the concert and sitting on the grass to watch the fireworks finale together, the energetic Piper in tow, of course.

  Now that dream was heading away from him through the crowd.

  Will moved to follow her when Ratte appeared beside him out of nowhere, Wesler by his side. Wesler had some questions about the new study. Will answered them as quickly as he could, trying to keep an eye on Haley as she walked away. Ratte moved and got in the
way, though, and Wesler wanted to know how they were going to protect themselves against liability, testing the device on children.

  “Listen, I have to check on something,” Will said, attempting to excuse himself.

  But it was too late.

  Haley and Piper had disappeared.

  Chapter 3

  Will couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  He’d spent a week getting ready for the next phase of the study and had been busier than he could ever remember being at work.

  And still, he couldn’t stop thinking about Haley. He’d find himself checking in new equipment, some of it arriving every hour—the UPS guy was kind of sick of them—and his thoughts would wander to the memory of the way she smoothed her hair away from her forehead. Or the way she squatted down beside Piper, her bottom rounding out her black trousers, her white shirt pulling up in back, revealing a hint of pale skin.

  Today was the first official day of the study, and he’d been in and out of various laboratories, trying to coordinate. This phase of the project involved several teams, each with its own unique role to play. Now that equipment had been installed and everyone had been trained, they were ready to begin. But Will was exhausted already. What he really needed was an assistant. His had left and human resources hadn’t yet found someone to replace her.

  Will took his well-deserved lunch break in the cafeteria, grabbing an egg salad sandwich and a cup of coffee before secluding himself at a corner table. He should have been focused on the research he was doing at work, but instead his mind wandered to the other little research project he’d been working on.

  His research had been fruitful. He’d discovered that this wasn’t the first time this particular catering company had worked for Hamlen. In fact, the referral had come from the head of their own cafeteria, an always-smiling, rotund, red-headed woman who was happy to talk about her recommendation. Her brother ran the whole company, she told him. Nepotism at its best. It hadn’t taken Will too long to subtly flirt his way toward his goal—obtaining Haley’s last name and cell phone number.