by Tina Folsom
“Thank you.”
It took only moments for him to announce her to Emily, who’d been her mother’s assistant for many years. When he put down the phone, he pointed to an elevator behind him. “Go to the top floor. Emily will be meeting you there.”
“Thank you.”
Kim walked past the information podium and pressed the elevator button. The door opened instantly, and she stepped in, taking her time. Slowly, the doors closed.
“Manus?”
“I’m still here, no worries,” he said in a low voice. “And don’t be so nervous. You’re not committing a crime. You’re just gonna look at a few things and ask some questions.”
She fidgeted. “I know that, but it still feels wrong to snoop around when it’s not technically my mother’s office anymore.”
Manus squeezed her arm. “You can do it.”
A moment later, the elevator doors opened. In the hallway, Emily was waiting. She was a woman who should have retired a decade ago but always claimed she would get bored if she didn’t have a job to go to. The last time Kim had seen her was at her mother’s funeral.
Emily opened her arms, and Kim walked into the embrace, allowing the older woman to hug her tightly to her big chest and the warmth emanating from there to seep into her. It was a comfort she hadn’t enjoyed in a long time.
“How you doing, hon?” Emily asked as she released her.
“I’m alright,” Kim managed to say, wiping a traitorous tear off her cheek. “It’s so good to see you, Emily.”
“And it’s good seeing you. I wondered when you’d be ready to come by and get your mother’s things.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long.”
Emily made a dismissive hand movement. “It’s no bother. You just weren’t ready. All in good time.”
Kim smiled at her, grateful for the kind words. “Could we go to her office?” She sighed. “I just want to see it one more time and remind myself of where she spent most of her time.”
“Of course,” Emily responded. “Come with me.”
They walked to the end of the corridor, then turned left before Emily opened a door and stepped inside. Kim followed.
“You’re in luck. The new curator is out of town today.”
“Oh.” Kim hadn’t really thought about the fact that her mother had been replaced so soon. “Is she going to mind?”
“He,” Emily corrected, “and he’s not gonna find out. He doesn’t need to know everything.” She grimaced.
“Do you like your new boss?” Kim asked, sensing a trace of hostility in Emily’s tone.
The older woman shrugged. “I think I might put in for my retirement after all.”
“That bad?”
“It’s just not the same without your mother.” Then she took a deep breath. “So, let me see, I put all your mother’s personal effects into a box in the office closet.” She walked to a large built-in that covered one entire wall and opened a cabinet. “Ah, there it is.”
Emily lifted out the box, and Kim immediately reached for it. “Let me help you.”
“Thank you, hon.”
Kim took the box and set it on the coffee table in the corner of the office that was equipped with a seating area. “Do you mind if I look through things quickly just to make sure I’m not taking anything that should really be given to her successor?”
“Oh, uh…”
“If you’ll get into trouble for letting me in here, then I’ll leave, of course. It’s just…” Kim cast a look around the room to give Emily the impression that the memory of her mother was stronger. “…so much in here still reminds me of her…” She turned her face away and faked a sniffle.
“Oh, of course, hon. You take all the time you need. Why don’t I get us some coffee from the kitchen?”
“You’re the best, Emily. No wonder Mom loved you.”
Emily smiled and left the room. The moment the door shut behind her, Kim heard the sound of somebody rifling through the box. She whirled around and stared at a snow globe floating in the air. She’d almost forgotten during her exchange with Emily that Manus was with her.
“Let’s go through everything,” Manus said, still invisible. “Here, start with the notebooks. I’ll check out the calendar. The trinkets in here don’t look like much.” He placed the snow globe on the table.
Kim pointed to it. “I brought it back from a trip to Jasper National Park. I didn’t realize she still had it.”
“I didn’t mean to diminish—”
She lifted her hand to stop him. “I know you didn’t. But it’s not gonna help us find a lead.” She reached for the notebook and started leafing through it while she saw from the corner of her eye that the pages of the large paper calendar her mother had kept on her desk were being turned by an invisible hand.
For a few moments, there was silence between them.
“Have a look at this,” Manus suddenly said, thrusting the calendar in front of her.
“What am I looking at?”
“This here.”
“Manus, I can’t see what you’re pointing to since you’re invisible.”
“Oh sorry. Hazard of my gift,” he said. “Look at the 4pm entry on the day of your mother’s death.”
Kim scanned the entries for that day and read. “Simon Kilgore, transl. celt.” She looked up. “Looks like she had an appointment with a translator. Nothing unusual in her job.”
“Maybe not, but if by celt she means Celtic, then I think we should look into it.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s our ancient language. So, if she saw an inscription on something that she believed to be Celtic, it could have something to do with us or the demons.”
There was a sound at the door.
“Ask her assistant if she knew anything about it,” Manus managed to say before the door opened fully and Emily reentered with two cups of coffee.
Kim put down the notebook she’d been looking through and walked toward Emily, reaching for the cup. “Oh, thank you so much.” She took a sip. Emily did the same.
“May I ask you something, Emily?”
“Of course, hon. What is it?”
“I always thought that Mom wasn’t working on the day that she died.”
“That’s right.”
“But I just saw an entry in her calendar…” Kim picked up the calendar from where Manus had laid it down and set down the coffee cup. “Here it is. She was meeting with a translator. So, she must have been working that day after all.”
Emily leaned in to look at the entry, squinting slightly. “Hmm. That’s not an appointment I made for her.”
“But weren’t you making all appointments for her?”
“Most of the time, yes, ‘cause it saved her a lot of time rather than her having to track people down and figure out when they could meet. I mean, that was my job. Must have been something private.”
“That’s odd. Why would she need a translator?”
Emily looked at the entry again. “It’s definitely not for anything in the museum. If I’m not mistaken, her abbreviation means Celtic, and we haven’t had any Celtic items in quite a while.”
“Thanks, Emily. I guess you must be right. Maybe she found something on an antiques market.”
“Yes, she loved those, didn’t she?” A bittersweet smile crossed Emily’s face. “I know she was raving about a find the weekend before her death.”
“Oh? Do you know what she’d bought?”
Emily shook her head. “You knew your mother. She never let the cat out of the bag until she was absolutely sure she knew what she had.”
“You’re right.” Kim sighed. “Listen, I shouldn’t take up more of your time. All the things in the box are definitely personal items. I’ll take the box home.”
“You do that, hon.”
A hug and a goodbye later, and Kim exited the museum.
“What now?” she whispered outside. “Do you think Mom found something at one of those antiques mar
kets that she needed a translator for?”
“One way to find out,” Manus replied just as quietly.
27
Simon Kilgore’s office was located in a strip mall over a dry cleaner in a rough part of town.
“Are you sure you want to go visible this time?” Kim asked as they sat in the car a block away from Kilgore’s office.
Manus turned his head to her and nodded. “I want to question him myself. Besides, I couldn’t detect anybody following you when we went to the museum. It doesn’t look like the demons have you under twenty-four-hour surveillance.” Or if they did, they were very good, better than they’d been in the past. And maybe at this stage, letting the demons know that he was onto them wasn’t all bad. It wouldn’t be the first time a demon screwed up because he was under pressure. It could provide him and his brethren with a lead in the process.
“I must admit, seeing you makes me feel more comfortable than not knowing where you are,” Kim admitted now. “I know this whole invisibility thing is cool and all, but it’s also a little annoying for those who’re not invisible.”
“Well, then maybe next time I’ll make you invisible too,” he said casually.
“What?”
“Guess I forgot to mention that I can make others invisible, either by touch or with my mind.”
“Really? I mean, we’d both be invisible?” She shook her head. “But then you wouldn’t know where I was, and I wouldn’t know where you were. That sounds a bit chaotic.”
“It’s not, because you’d be able to see me, and I’d be able to see you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “And nobody else would?”
“That’s right.” He grinned and leaned toward her. “We could even make love in public and nobody would see us.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, that’s your first thought? You’re impossible!” Despite her words, mischief sparkled in her eyes.
Manus chuckled. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that.” He slid his hand behind her nape and pulled her face to him. “I could take you right here, and nobody would be the wiser.” He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her, deep and hard, before releasing her. “Unfortunately, we’ve got work to do.”
Kim’s face was flushed, and she blew out a big breath. “You’re such a tease.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He pressed another quick kiss on her lips, then reached for the handle of the car door. “Let’s do this.”
Moments later they reached the entry to the lobby leading to Kilgore’s office. The door was unlocked, as was to be expected during business hours. On the first floor, there were several doors, one marked Mechanical Closet, one without any inscription, and the last one saying Employees Only. This one appeared to be a secondary entrance into the dry-cleaning business.
Manus climbed the stairs, Kim by his side. On the landing, a sign directed them to the left, where three doors were located. The second one was Kilgore’s. Manus knocked.
“Come in,” a male voice answered.
Manus opened the door and entered. Kim followed close behind. The office was stuffed with books, magazines, and other papers. Bookcases lined the walls. Boxes stood waist-high off to one side of the room. Behind a desk with papers piled high on one side, a skinny man in his fifties pored over a book. A computer monitor took up the other side of the desk, and on the floor, an old desktop tower hugged the desk.
“Mr. Kilgore?” Manus asked. “Simon Kilgore?”
The man looked over his reading glasses. “Yes. How can I help you?”
Manus took a few steps closer. “I got your name from a friend, Mrs. Britton, Nancy Britton.”
Recognition flickered in the man’s eyes. “Uh, Britton, hmm, yes, I think I may have done some work for her.”
Clearly, Kilgore wasn’t searching his memory. He knew exactly what kind of work he’d done for Nancy.
“A Celtic translation, I believe she mentioned to me,” Manus said, fishing for more information.
“Hmm, that’s quite possible. Yes, yes, now I remember. I reviewed a short text for her.” Kilgore glanced past Manus to where Kim stood, then back to him. “Do you need any translation work done?”
“Not exactly.”
Kilgore raised an eyebrow. “Then, if it’s not a translation you’re after, I’m not sure…”
“You said you reviewed a text for her. You didn’t translate it?”
The man cleared his throat. “I really can’t talk to a stranger about work I did for another client. Confidentiality, you understand.”
“Nancy Britton was my mother,” Kim said, stepping closer. “And you were the last person to see her on the day of her murder.”
Kilgore sat up straight, a look of outrage spreading over his face. “You’re not suggesting that I had anything to do with—”
“Nobody is suggesting that,” Manus interrupted quickly. “But since you were her last appointment that day, we’re trying to get a sense of what her business was that day.”
Kilgore seemed to relax a little. “Well, I mean, since she’s dead”—he cast a quick look at Kim—“my condolences… I guess it doesn’t hurt anybody to tell you what I did for her.” He tossed a glance at his computer, then seemed to think of it otherwise. “She had sent me a copy of a short text she wanted me to review. It was in Celtic but a very old form of it. I gave her a brief overview over the content of the text, and she paid me for my time.”
“That’s all?” Manus asked.
Kilgore shrugged. “Pretty much.”
“What was it about?”
“It was hard to make heads or tails of it. It started in the middle of something and then ended abruptly. Hard to really know what it was other than that it was some sort of fairytale or old myth.”
Manus hummed to himself. Their history books could read like fairytales for anybody who didn’t know what they were looking at. “You said a copy. Was it just one page?”
“Yes.”
“But it seemed to be taken out of context? Perhaps a page out of a book?”
Kilgore looked away for a brief second, but Manus caught the action. The translator was trying to hide what he knew. And he knew more than what he was willing to tell. “Sure, yeah,” he said non-committal. “But she never showed me a book or contracted me to translate one. Sorry.” He stood up, a sure sign that he wanted to end the conversation. “I wish I could help you, but I don’t know anything else.”
Manus hesitated. He had to use other methods to find out what he needed to know. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Kilgore. We appreciate it.” He turned to Kim. “Let’s go.”
He ushered Kim out of the office and down the hall.
“He was clearly lying,” Kim said at the top of the stairs.
“Not here,” Manus warned and took her hand to lead her down the stairs and out of the building.
Only when they were back inside the car did he speak again. “I know he was lying. He knows what was written on the page he saw. Even if it was an old form of Celtic.”
“What do you think it was?” Kim asked curiously.
“I don’t want to speculate.”
“But then, what are we gonna do? We can’t just give up.”
“We’re not giving up.” Manus started the engine. “Did you see all the files and stacks of papers in his office?”
Kim nodded. “So?”
“He makes notes about everything. Which means there would be notes on that page that your mother gave him to review. Maybe even a full translation. We’ll have to find it.”
“You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?”
“What do you think I’m suggesting?”
“To break in.”
“You’re learning fast. I don’t know whether I should be proud of you or embarrassed that I’m corrupting you.” Or turned on about the fact that Kim didn’t seem to be scared of committing a crime to get to the truth.
28
All businesses in the strip mall were closed now
, except for the Chinese takeout two doors down from the dry cleaners. There was steady traffic there despite the late hour, but Manus wasn’t concerned about being detected. He and Kim had arrived cloaked, even though he doubted that the customers frequenting the Chinese restaurant would take any notice of them. However, since he had to break into the translator’s office, Manus thought it best to be as inconspicuous as possible. And what was more inconspicuous than being invisible?
As expected, the glass door to the lobby, which was lit, was locked. Manus motioned to Kim—the only person who could see him—to wait for him while he passed through the door to get inside. He knew from his earlier visit that there was no alarm system. It was child’s play to unlock the door from inside and open it.
He ushered Kim inside, then closed the door behind her, making sure nobody was watching and seeing a door open and close by itself.
“Just as well that you and your people aren’t burglars,” Kim said. “You’d be robbing us all blind, and we would never catch you.”
Manus winked at her. “If this gig doesn’t pan out for me, I might consider it as my second career choice.” He put his foot on the first step. “I hear the pay is good.”
Kim laughed softly. “Don’t tell me they don’t compensate you well enough for what you do.”
He shook his head. “Money has no real meaning in our society. None of us gets paid.”
He started walking up the stairs, and Kim caught up with him. “What? Then how do you live without money?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. There’s money. The compound has a budget, and everything a warrior needs comes out of that budget. But there’s no personal property other than the furnishings in our private quarters. And even those were paid for by the compound.”
“I didn’t expect that. So, you’re doing this job why?”
Manus smirked. “Being a warrior is a babe magnet.” He met her eyes to make sure she knew he wasn’t being serious. He didn’t want to talk about the real reason why he’d become a warrior. Not just because he wanted to avenge his parents, but because being a warrior meant the chances of him ever loving somebody again were slim. Warriors in their society were in many cases foregoing having a family. Of course, his own compound mates were different in that aspect. Most of them had somehow managed to find a mate who hadn’t asked them to give up their work. It was unusual to say the least.