by Anne Bishop
“Do you think he’ll forget about the Vigorous Appendage by the time he gets back from the walk?”
“He’s a border collie. He doesn’t forget anything he can possibly herd.”
“Well, that should shorten Yorick’s visit.”
Ineke suddenly looked grim. “Don’t count on it.”
When we reached The Jumble, I didn’t recognize the young man who unhooked the chain across the access road, but he had the look of one of the Crowgard.
“I’m Eddie,” he said as we rolled slowly past him. “I’m helping Aggie and Jozi. And the Sanguinati.”
Helping them with what?
Grimshaw’s cruiser was parked in front of the main house, as far from the three utility vehicles as he could manage and still turn around without hitting a tree. The UV in the middle looked untouched. The one I approached after getting out of Ineke’s car had an open back window and . . .
I clapped both hands over my nose and mouth, while Ineke said, “Gods above and below, that’s a stink!”
Maybe human pee smelled just as bad to Cougar—or whatever had sprayed an opinion into the interior of the UV—but the vehicle smelled like a well-used litter box without the litter.
The third UV, which was a greenish brown, looked like a rubber-footed turtle that had been flipped on its back.
I decided right then and there that she who lives in The Jumble should never, ever, ever think too long or too hard about the large beings that also lived in The Jumble because thinking about them being out there would lead to anxiety attacks and an inability to go outside.
Even though we arrived bringing brunch and lunch, Grimshaw wasn’t happy to see us, and Julian looked wary, although he tried to hide it. My guests weren’t trying to hide anything. Four of them were expressing themselves at full volume about the lack of service, about their being threatened, about damage to property. Trina wasn’t in the hall. Heidi was, and she was trying to say something, but I couldn’t hear her.
“Enough!” Conan roared as he walked down the stairs.
“I agree.”
I turned toward the front door. When had Ilya Sanguinati arrived and how much had he heard?
“Who are you?” Vaughn demanded.
“Ms. DeVine’s attorney.” Ilya walked in and stood beside me.
Vaughn gave me a cold look. “You’re going to need one.”
“I’ll put the food in the fridge,” Ineke murmured. She took the bags of food and headed for the kitchen.
Wondering what else she planned to do once she was out of Grimshaw’s sight—and wishing I could go with her—I resigned myself to enduring extreme unpleasantness. The rental agreement did have a separate clause guests had to sign that said I wasn’t responsible for any damage to their property during their stay, but I was reluctant to point that out since I was pretty sure the men would start hollering again, and men hollering tended to trigger anxiety attacks.
“What provoked them?” Ilya asked, directing the question to Conan.
Grimshaw didn’t growl about someone else asking questions, so either he hadn’t gotten any answers that he believed from the humans or he wanted to hear the Others’ version of events and hadn’t had a chance to ask before Ineke and I arrived—or hadn’t been successful in getting any of my lodger-employees to talk to him.
Conan pointed at Darren and Pamella. “Aggie and Jozi found these two humans in Miss Vicki’s private den, going through her belongings. When Aggie told them to leave, they refused and said . . . insults . . . before I came up and helped the Crowgard drive them from the den.”
The perverse part of me wanted to hear what they had said, even knowing I would be hurt by it. The tiny part of me that was an enthusiastic supporter of self-preservation understood that while Conan would tell Ilya at some point—and might even tell Grimshaw—exactly what was said, the Bear had already decided not to tell me.
“He manhandled me,” Pamella said, her voice shrill as she showed everyone the torn pockets in her capris. “And he threatened Darren.”
“Threatened to disembowel me,” Darren said.
“Did they take anything?” Ilya asked Conan, ignoring the humans.
“They tried,” Conan replied. “But they did not leave with anything that did not belong to them.”
Hopefully they also didn’t leave anything in my suite, like intestines. Not likely, since Darren was waving his arms and down here with the rest of his friends, but I really liked the carpet I had put in my bedroom and didn’t want it stained by people innards.
“Hershel was at our cabin, resting, and I was in the library, looking for a book to read,” Heidi volunteered, sounding anxious to establish the legitimacy of their activities. “You did say we could borrow a book while we were here.”
I wasn’t the only one who saw the disgusted looks Pamella, Vaughn, and Darren gave her, and I felt sorry for Heidi. She was older than the other two women and even rounder than me, so she probably endured a bushel of verbal cuts whenever she and her husband socialized with the other two couples. She actually seemed like a nice person, much nicer than her husband, which must have made her the odd man out even in her own home.
I could relate to that. I could also relate to her husband looking at her as if she had farted at the moment he introduced her to an important client.
“And the female who is missing?” Ilya asked. “Where was she?”
“Trina isn’t well,” Vaughn said. “She had some kind of dizzy spell. I was going to take her to the doctor. Then we discovered the vandalism . . .”
“Where was she when she had this dizzy spell?” Ilya was using his scary mild voice.
A woman walked into the hallway and said, “She had picked the lock on Ms. DeVine’s office, but she couldn’t go through the files or take anything because I was there.” She smiled at me.
She wasn’t beautiful—at least by current standards—but her face was arresting and she looked great in the sharply tailored black business suit. And with the long black hair, dark eyes, and olive-toned skin, she was definitely Sanguinati.
“What was she doing in there?” Vaughn demanded. “And how did my wife end up having a dizzy spell just by being in that room? Is this place contaminated with mold or something else perilous to human health?”
Definitely something else. Was Vaughn the only one who hadn’t figured that out? Sanguinati plus intruder equals lunch.
“I’m the CPA,” she said, managing to imply in those three words that she had been in my office because she was my CPA.
Since I hadn’t seen her before, I hoped no one asked me to introduce her.
“Ms. DeVine,” she said, “since you weren’t involved in this incident, perhaps I could have a few minutes now to review the accounts?”
Grimshaw immediately focused on her. “I might have some questions, Ms. . . . ?”
“Natasha Sanguinati.”
They all looked at Natasha. They all looked at Ilya. At least some of my guests were beginning to figure things out—or not. Or maybe they counted on nothing happening to them while Grimshaw was there upholding the law.
I wasn’t sure how much law he could uphold, but his presence seemed like the assurance they all needed to continue to yap at the Sanguinati.
The lightest touch of Ilya’s hand on my back. Clearly he wanted me away from the rest of the humans, so I followed Natasha to my office—and saw the sharp way Julian stared at her for a moment before relaxing just enough to be noticeable.
Natasha held the office door for me, then closed it behind me, isolating us from whatever was going on in the hall.
“I hadn’t intended to be in your office without your consent,” Natasha said. “But when the Crowgard reported that the humans were acting sneaky and scratching at the doors to places where they didn’t belong, a couple of us came over to investigate. I was sitting at y
our desk, writing a note to you—I like the stationery you created for The Jumble—when that Trina female scratched at the door until it opened. She wanted me to leave, insisted that you had asked her to find a couple of legal papers. She was offended that I didn’t believe her.”
Natasha seemed quite amused by that.
“So you bit her?”
“Oh no. A bite can be so intimate, don’t you think?”
Considering some of the fantasies I’d had about Ilya, apparently I did think biting and intimacy could go together.
“Besides, there are other ways to feed,” Natasha added.
I was not going to think about that because thinking about it made me feel like a walking juice bar.
Raised voices, muffled by the closed door, were silenced by the sound of something large and metallic being dropped. I didn’t know much about cars, even when they weren’t being dropped, but I guessed it had sounded like that because the tires were now flat.
“How many Elders does it take to flip a car?” I asked.
She gave me a puzzled smile. “Is that a human joke?”
Not likely. “Maybe.”
“While we’re waiting for the police officer to ask his questions, why don’t we review your accounts?”
I figured she already knew I couldn’t afford what she usually charged any more than I could afford my attorney, so I told her that was a nifty idea and began counting the hours until I could shove my first guests out the door.
CHAPTER 49
Grimshaw
Moonsday, Sumor 3
As far as Grimshaw was concerned, situations like this were exactly the reason why cops hated coming to places like Sproing or The Jumble unless it was to help a stranded motorist or look for a missing child. The Others in the wild country usually left you alone if you were helping a motorist, and they sometimes assisted in the search if they understood you were looking for a lost child. But when humans ran afoul of the terra indigene? Nothing a cop could do except try to extract the humans without antagonizing the Others.
Well, he could shoot the humans. He was pretty sure the Others wouldn’t object to that. Explaining that to Captain Hargreaves or a board of inquiry might be tricky—assuming the bodies didn’t just disappear before he had time to file his report.
Which made him wonder why the body of Franklin Cartwright had been left in a place where it would be found and hadn’t shown much sign of predation. Had the man been left as a warning about the penalties of trespassing in The Jumble, or was it a case of the smaller terra indigene not daring to grab anything from a kill made by an Elder?
Or most anything, he amended, remembering the call Vicki DeVine had made about the eyeball that had started the initial inquiry.
Hershel, a large gray-haired man who was older than the other two men, arrived at the main house and was as vocal as Vaughn and Darren about their treatment here and the damage to their vehicles. Grimshaw figured Hershel really had been in his cabin resting, or at least doing nothing that upset the Others, since his UV was the only one that hadn’t been damaged or vandalized.
“Let’s go into the library and see if we can work this out,” he said. He didn’t see the point of standing in the hall, and he wanted to get a look at Trina. She might need a doctor. Then again, she might need nothing more than a glass of juice and rest to make up for the blood donation she’d made as a penalty for picking a lock on a door that was clearly marked PRIVATE.
They just argued more loudly until the crash of something large and metallic.
“I’ll go,” Julian said. He hurried out, then hurried back in. “The overturned UV has been righted. The tires are flat, and there is some other damage—mostly dents and scratches.”
Vaughn ran out to take a look. They heard a shocked sound, almost a scream, before he ran back in.
“Someone is going to pay for that,” he shouted.
“You will,” Ilya said. “And for the tow truck unless it is your intention to abandon the vehicle.”
Vaughn’s eyes were filled with fury and hatred, and Grimshaw wondered if the man had been a member of the Humans First and Last movement before most of the humans who had joined the HFL were killed by the Elders and Elementals. Anyone left had survived by hiding their affiliation. But if Vaughn was one of the investors in this luxury resort nonsense, that would be sufficient reason to hate the Sanguinati’s interference.
Finally Grimshaw had enough. “Anyone who wants me to make an official report will come into the library. It’s a onetime offer. You blow me off now and then want a report because your insurance company won’t pay for repairs without one, then you’ll have to pocket the expense.”
“This is outrageous!” Hershel said. “Who is your superior? I’m going to file a complaint.”
Oh, he didn’t want to do what he was about to do because this was the first step in becoming entangled in the briars that were the village of Sproing. It was also the fastest way to make sure he wasn’t hamstrung by orders that might come from someone other than Captain Hargreaves. “I’m currently the chief of police in Sproing, so if you want to file a complaint, you file it with me. I can tell you already where I’ll put it.”
Grimshaw walked into the library and waited. At first, the only individual to follow him was Ilya Sanguinati. Then the five humans entered the room, grumbling and complaining.
A minute later, Julian slipped into the library. “Definite signs that someone picked the lock on the office door. Not what I would call a professional job, but it was done by someone who has had some practice. You might want to take fingerprints and send them on to see if they match any unsolved burglaries at resorts around the Finger Lakes.”
That started all of them yapping again, even Trina, who didn’t look as wan as she had a minute ago. Which made sense since he was certain that her fingerprints would be on the door.
Grimshaw wanted to smack his friend, but all he said was, “Fox. Henhouse.”
The guests didn’t get the reference. Ilya Sanguinati laughed.
The laughter shut everyone up.
“We aren’t staying here unless you deal with those . . . creatures,” Darren said.
“You’re guests,” Ilya said. “The terra indigene live here. You can talk to Ms. DeVine about an early checkout. I believe I can convince her to forgive the rest of your bills as long as the checks you sent for the deposits on the cabin and suites didn’t bounce.”
“Ms. Xavier, who runs the boardinghouse in Sproing, is in the kitchen,” Grimshaw said, looking pointedly at Julian. “You could inquire if she has sufficient rooms available.”
“I’ll do that.” Julian left the library.
“Boardinghouse?” Pamella sounded offended that he would suggest such a thing. “I don’t think so. Where is the nearest hotel that isn’t a dump?”
“Bristol,” Grimshaw replied.
Pamella sniffed in a way that said there was nothing suitable in Bristol.
Julian returned. “As a favor to Ms. DeVine, Ineke will rent them rooms for the rest of today. But they need to be out by eleven a.m. tomorrow because, after that, all her rooms are booked through the rest of the month.”
“That’s unacceptable,” Vaughn said. “We may need to stay longer to settle legal issues.”
“Then you’ll have to stay somewhere else,” Julian replied.
“Where?” Vaughn snapped.
Grimshaw thought about the Mill Creek Cabins, but realized that not only were those rented on an annual lease; they were owned by the Sanguinati at Silence Lodge. Not the kind of landlords these humans would want.
Darren, Vaughn, and Hershel looked at one another. One by one, they nodded, as if casting a vote.
“Fine,” Darren said. “We’ll stay at the boardinghouse until we conclude our business.”
“Until eleven a.m. tomorrow,” Grimshaw corrected.
He hoped that was true.
“Ms. Xavier will be going back to her place in about half an hour,” Julian said. “She can fit two people and some luggage in her car. The rest of you will have to ride in the available UV.”
“What are you going to do with the other two vehicles?” Grimshaw asked Vaughn and Darren.
“We’ll leave them here. For now,” Vaughn replied.
As the humans filed out of the room, Ilya plucked the book out of Heidi’s hands and gave her a fang-tipped smile. “This is Ms. DeVine’s property.”
“Oh, but . . .” Heidi began.
“We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were trying to leave with something that wasn’t yours.”
“Who would cut up stiff about a paperback?” Hershel snapped.
“Do you know where you are the moment you walk out the door of this building?” Ilya asked, his focus still on Heidi.
“The Jumble?” she replied hesitantly.
He shook his head slowly. “You’re in the wild country, and there are a lot of beings between you and the nearest human place who would ‘cut up stiff.’”
Heidi trembled. Tears filled her eyes.
Her husband didn’t put an arm around her, didn’t do so much as take her hand.
Dismissing the man, Grimshaw studied Ilya and realized the vampire hadn’t been trying to frighten Heidi; he’d been trying to warn her.
Mikhos, watch over me.
Thirty minutes later, Vicki DeVine was still in her office with Natasha Sanguinati. Grimshaw figured that was Ilya’s doing. Ineke was at the front door, tapping one foot as she waited for Heidi and Hershel to get their things packed. Or repacked, since Conan insisted on looking inside their luggage to make sure they hadn’t taken anything from the cabin.