by Anne Bishop
Snickers from Darren and Pamella.
“Officer Grimshaw?” Dr. Wallace walked toward him.
Grimshaw hurried to meet him, then cocked a thumb at the office. “Let’s talk in here.” He looked back at Julian, reluctant to leave his friend alone with that nest of vipers. But Julian wandered away from the rest of the people, putting a clear distance between them.
Getting out of the line of fire?
He closed the office door. “Doc? Are they trying to cover up a domestic dispute with a story about a hand coming out of the sink?”
Wallace studied him. “You worked highway patrol before coming here.”
“I’m still officially part of the highway patrol.”
“Then you’ve seen things. Know things about what lives in the wild country.”
A chill went down Grimshaw’s spine. “I’ve seen things. I know things.”
“I wish I could tell you the bruises on Constance Dane’s neck were consistent with a man’s hand, but they’re not. Too slender, for one thing. For another . . .” Wallace took a couple of deep breaths, as if to prove he could. “The man who served as the Northeast Region’s governor before Hannigan.”
“What about him?”
“There was a rumor going around the medical community that he died when water entered his lungs and then froze while he was taking a bath.”
“What does that have to do with Constance Dane?”
“She was facing her assailant. And whatever grabbed her did so with a hand so cold it was like touching bare skin to a metal pipe when the temperature is below freezing. The hand not only grabbed her hard enough to bruise her neck; it pulled off a couple of layers of skin when it released her.”
He and Wallace returned to the kitchen, where Trina and Pamella were hovering near Constance Dane but not getting too close, as if they were afraid to draw the attention of whatever had attacked their friend.
Grimshaw took a seat at a small table. Julian had mentioned that there was a couple who ran a used-goods business, everything from incomplete sets of dishes to furniture that was usable but not of sufficient quality to be considered antiques. Had someone made a run to that place to pick up the chairs and table, the dishes he saw piled on the counter in need of a wash before they could be used? He wondered which of the women would end up being the designated scullery maid.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked Constance.
Pretty simple, as long as you didn’t think about it. She and Yorick had taken the manager’s suite—meaning the efficiency apartment in the main house that had been Vicki DeVine’s home until yesterday morning. Constance had been in the bathroom, washing her face at the sink, when she realized the water was draining so slow the sink was filling up. She started to tell Yorick that they needed to have the plumber look at the sink when they could get someone to show up. Then a hand made of water rose out of the sink and grabbed her throat, squeezing so hard she could barely breathe. And then it was so cold, so painfully cold. She tore free and managed to run out of the bathroom. By the time Yorick went in to investigate, the sink had drained and there was no sign of anything except some clumps of Constance’s skin around the drain.
Grimshaw went through the motions of collecting evidence and taking statements. They might be despicable people, but they were still humans he had sworn to protect. Not that he had a chance of arresting Constance Dane’s assailant. Or assailants. After all, Water couldn’t have turned into a frozen hand without the help of an Elemental like Winter. And the thought that something had woken up Winter during the second month of summer scared him spitless.
It was full dark when he walked out of the house with Dr. Wallace and Julian. The EMTs were still there, in their vehicle, waiting for them.
The men looked terrified.
“The lash of cold has disappeared,” Julian said as he opened the cruiser’s passenger door. “It feels like the temperature is warming up, returning to normal for this time of year.”
“Monkey man.” A whisper in the dark.
Grimshaw paused, one foot in the cruiser.
“Mooooonkey maaaan.” A different voice whispering the words. Mockery or threat?
“Wayne, let’s get out of here. Please.”
Was this the reason Hershel and Heidi had called their friends in a panic? Were these the voices they had heard?
“Wayne.”
He heard the plea in Julian’s voice.
No mercy in the wild country. No safety in the dark. As long as Dane and his friends stayed inside, they should be all right. But the doc and the EMTs were his responsibility, and a cruiser escorting another vehicle had the best chance of ensuring that everyone reached safety.
He drove back to Sproing, lights flashing to indicate he was on official business. The EMTs drove to the firehouse, where they would bed down until morning. He and Julian escorted Dr. Wallace to the man’s home.
Julian had been unnervingly quiet throughout the drive, right up until they reached his cabin. Smoke rose from the chimney at Vicki’s cabin. She must have figured out how to work the woodstove that heated the place. If Julian didn’t start a fire in his own cabin, he would be in for a chilly night’s sleep—if he slept at all.
“I wonder what those things are,” Grimshaw said. “There were two of them.”
“Five.” Julian stared out the windshield. “There are five of them.”
“How do you know?”
“I recognized the voices. Five of them come in once a week to buy books. They’re the terra indigene who named the bookstore. I don’t know what they are beyond that.”
Grimshaw thought about that. “You don’t feel threatened when they come into the store?”
“No.”
“But you felt threatened tonight?”
Julian hesitated. “Not really. We didn’t try to reach the cabins, so they had no reason to attack us. And those whispers? A warning, I think.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought too.” He just wished he knew where the line was that would tip a warning into an attack.
CHAPTER 58
Vicki
Thaisday, Sumor 6
It’s funny how quickly a person can adjust to a routine. I started to put on my bathing suit before I remembered that I no longer had access to the lake, could no longer take a quick, refreshing dip before doing morning chores. Of course, the fire in the woodstove had gone out sometime during the night, so the cabin’s temperature was better suited to jeans and a sweater.
Then I stepped outside. Chilly enough for jeans and sweater, but that would change by noon and we would be back to summer. Still, if I couldn’t go for a swim, a walk would do just as well. If I kept the creek to my right going away from the cabins and to my left on the way back, I couldn’t get too lost.
“Vicki? Wait up!”
And I had a better chance of not getting lost if I had company.
I smiled at Julian when he caught up to me. “I was going to take a walk before . . .” I looked at him. “I was going to say before work. Guess I’m just taking a walk.”
“I’ll go with you if you’ve no objection,” Julian said. “It’s a pretty walk, and even beyond the water mill, there is a footpath that follows the creek.”
“Is there a wading pool?”
“A what?”
“Someplace where you can sit on a rock and dip your feet in the water? Seems like it would be a pleasant thing to do on a hot afternoon—bring a book and something to drink and dangle your feet in cool water.”
He smiled. “I don’t know. I haven’t walked the path with that in mind. And this is my first summer here too. By the time I got the store up and running, it was a bit too cool to think of wading in the creek.”
“Speaking of cool, thanks for sending your friend to help get the fire started in the woodstove. It would have been wicked cold last night without
it.”
“My friend?” Julian sounded odd.
“Aiden. Although, considering his choice of hair colors—red hair with blue and yellow tips—maybe he’s Ineke’s friend. Anyway, he showed up a few minutes after you and Officer Grimshaw drove off and said we had a mutual friend, so he wanted to check on me and make sure I knew how to work the stove because it was going to be a cold night. Not a freezing night, so I didn’t have to worry about water pipes and farmers didn’t need to fear for their crops, but it would be more comfortable with a fire.”
“You let him in?”
Oh, definitely odd. “It would have been hard for him to show me how to work the stove if I hadn’t. Anyway, he put in the wood and somehow got the fire started while I was still searching for some long matches. When I asked him how he’d done that, he laughed and said his name was a Brittannian word that meant . . .”
“Fire.” Julian looked pale.
“Yes.” I stopped walking. Not that I didn’t trust Julian, but he was acting a bit weird.
“Vicki, when he said you had a mutual friend, he didn’t mean anyone human.”
Oooohhhhh. “He’s terra indigene?”
Julian nodded. “One of the Elementals, I’d say.”
“Fire.” Oh golly. I had invited Fire into a cabin full of combustibles.
I bent at the waist and braced my hands on my knees, feeling anxiety wash through me.
“Vicki!”
I felt Julian’s hand on my waist and wanted to pull away, wanted to shout at him not to touch me where he would feel the roll of fat—the roll that Yorick used to say made him want to vomit when he touched it while we were having sex.
Odd that it didn’t seem to stop him from wanting to have sex even when he was exercising the Vigorous Appendage with someone else. It’s not like he was worried that anyone else would come sniffing around. He’d told me often enough I didn’t look good enough to screw.
But I couldn’t say any of that. First, Julian would either agree with Yorick or would think I was nuts. Second, I heard a horse cantering toward us.
Julian’s fingers tightened on my waist. So tense.
“Is she all right?” Aiden’s voice.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Don’t give Aiden a reason to turn Julian into a large briquette.
I turned my head and squinched my face. “Hi, Aiden.”
I couldn’t see Aiden’s face, but the horse . . . Black legs and a dark brown body. Pictures I’d seen of horses with that coloring usually had a black mane and tail. This one had a mane and tail that was the gray of storm clouds—and I was pretty sure I’d seen a pony with that coloring grazing around the cabin yesterday.
“What’s your horse’s name?” I asked.
“Twister.”
Oh, I so didn’t want to know that.
“Are you hurt?” Aiden sounded a bit testy.
“She’s got a tight muscle in her back,” Julian said. “That can happen when someone lifts a lot of boxes instead of accepting a friend’s offer to help. Am I pressing the right place?”
It took me a moment to realize the question was directed at me. “Closer to the spine.” Not that I had any muscles that were . . . “Ow! Yeah. There.” Guess I did have a few owie places.
“Is this typical in humans?” Aiden asked.
“It hadn’t felt like I’d overworked the back muscles when I was moving things around yesterday,” I said once I realized Julian wasn’t going to jump in with an explanation. Probably just as well.
I stood up. Julian’s hand lingered for a moment longer. It felt nice. More than nice.
I looked at Aiden. If I could forget the news reports I’d read last summer about fire tornados destroying entire human communities, I could see a handsome man on a pretty horse. But knowing who, and what, he was scared the crap out of me.
“Do you feel all right to help me shelve some books today?” Julian asked.
Shelve books? He hadn’t mentioned me going to the store with him, and I had the impression Ilya Sanguinati wanted me out of sight. Then again, once Julian went to work, I’d be out here on my own with my new flaming friend and the goats.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll shelve and you can lift.” I smiled at Aiden. “Thanks for lighting the fire last night. I was glad to have the warmth.”
He studied me. Had he conversed with many humans, or was I a novelty?
“It should not get so cold again until Autumn is ready to sleep,” he said.
“Why did it get so cold last night?” I had wondered about that.
Twister stamped a foot. I watched the dirt swirl around that leg and settle again.
“A female tried to claim your den,” Aiden said. “We didn’t like that, so Water asked her cousin for help in encouraging the female to leave.”
“Which cousin?” I said it casually, as if I knew all of them.
“Winter, of course.”
Oh golly. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Less than a month ago, I’d discovered that my lodger was one of the Crowgard, and I had a Panther and a Bear as employees. Now I was hobnobbing with the Lady of the Lake and Fire and acting all casual about other Elementals like Water and Winter taking an interest in The Jumble. Look at adaptable me.
I so wanted to sit down before I passed out.
“We should go if we’re going to get some of the new stock shelved before the store opens,” Julian said.
We waved and walked away. In my head, I could hear the voice of one of those nature show narrators. “A member of the team had direct contact with two humans in the wild. Though skittish, the humans remained long enough to exchange a few stilted sentences with the team member before making excuses to return to the safety of a human den.”
“I’m not sure Ilya wants me spending time in Sproing,” I said.
“Do you want to stay at the cabin today?” Julian countered.
By myself? Well, by myself in the sense there would be no other humans around. I was pretty sure if I stayed at the cabin I would have plenty of company of a different sort. “Let’s go shelve some books.”
I missed Aggie, and I hoped she was all right. I doubted Yorick would let her stay in a prime location. Then again, I kept forgetting that even a small shifter could have large and scary friends. I wondered how long it would take before Yorick learned that too.
CHAPTER 59
Them
Thaisday, Sumor 6
Bicker, bicker, bicker, Yorick thought as he opened the front door and walked out of the main house. His business partners were bickering because no one had come to the cabin last night to hold Hershel’s hand—the wimp—and the women were just being their usual bitchy selves. Except Heidi, who was in the kitchen washing dishes and proving she wasn’t top-notch material. Then again, the only cleaning service in Sproing hung up on Trina when she told them she was looking for temporary help at The Jumble, and the fees quoted by the cleaning services in Bristol were outrageous. So they needed someone to do the washing up for the time being, and Heidi—good old fat Heidi—was the one to do it.
Vaughn shouldn’t have invited a couple more Clippers to stay. They only had the one other cabin that was laughingly fit for human occupation, and the men said they were bringing a boat. They hadn’t mentioned if they were bringing wives or mistresses.
Darren seemed to think that they could shuffle those freaking Crows to one of the primitive cabins if they couldn’t kick them out altogether. Yorick wasn’t so sure about that, especially since there were three of the creatures staying in that cabin. But they had to figure something out before their guests arrived that afternoon.
He watched the black luxury sedan drive up to the house. He recognized that car and was certain that nothing that came out of it would benefit him. And he was right.
When the driver opened the back door for Ilya Sanguinati, Yorick hoped Vaughn was s
till in a vile mood.
* * *
• • •
Ilya Sanguinati removed a document from his briefcase and handed it to Yorick. “I thought it prudent to review with all of you the original agreement between Honoria Dane and the terra indigene when she built the main house and the cabins on the land that became known as The Jumble.”
“What’s to review?” Vaughn snapped. “Yorick owns the land.”
Ilya gave them all a cold smile. “Mr. Dane owns the buildings, not the land. By the original agreement, which you all should have reviewed before making plans to change The Jumble, you can tear down the existing structures, but you cannot put up any building that exceeds the square footage of the original structures. You cannot put up additional buildings without the landowners’ consent, which they will not give—a message I was asked to convey. Also, before you raze any of the buildings, you may want to consider if you will be able to purchase sufficient material to build a new structure. I’m told it can take months, with all the repairs that are still being done throughout the continent and the constricted supply of raw materials.”
“There is plenty of wood out there.” Darren waved a hand toward the windows.
“Which Mr. Dane does not own and does not have permission to use beyond harvesting firewood sufficient to heat the main house and the cabins,” Ilya replied. “Mr. Dane also has use of the cultivated land to grow crops to feed the residents of The Jumble, but the number of acres is quite specific and will not be enlarged.”
Yorick didn’t dare look at Darren or Hershel—and especially not Vaughn. But he had told them about the agreement, even if he’d glossed over the details. They couldn’t say they didn’t know. They’d just been sure they could rewrite what didn’t suit them, so he hadn’t seen the point of giving them a reason to be mad at him.
“You should also be aware that while the access road is wide enough for personal vehicles, it would not accommodate the kind of heavy machinery you would need if you were going to replace any of the buildings,” Ilya continued.