No Charm Intended

by Mollie Cox Bryan

Jane called Chelsea and they planned to meet at the coffee shop. After she and Cora had put their heads together in the early-morning hours, they’d decided she’d be a good place to start to find out more about Gracie, which might lead to so much more.

  Chelsea was dressed in a pretty blue shirtdress with a splash of light blue eye shadow on her lined eyes. She smiled a pretty, perfectly white, toothed smile. Cora hated her immediately.

  Get a grip, she told herself. You don’t know this woman at all.

  “Hello, Chelsea, this is my friend Cora,” Jane said.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said with a soft, lilting Carolina accent.

  Cora nodded. The waitress appeared and turned the coffee cups, already placed on the table, over and filled them with coffee.

  “What can I do for you, ladies? You said something about Gracie. Jillie is so upset. I’m upset. Hell, we’re all upset,” Chelsea said.

  Cora relaxed. She liked her a wee bit more.

  “It’s just that we’ve been trying to make sense of this. As I told you, London had a horrible dream last night. It’s hard to be honest with our kids when we don’t know what’s really going on.”

  “You’re telling me,” she said, and took a pink pack of artificial sweetener out of her bag. She opened it and poured the whole thing in her coffee. “I am really at a loss. She’s worked for me for two years. Jillie thinks of her as a second mother. I’ve had my hands full, I can tell you.” She stirred in the powder. “Her parents are in town and have been all over the TV. Have you seen them?”

  Neither Jane nor Cora owned a television. Jane streamed TV shows for London over the computer.

  “Did Gracie ever talk about Paul?” Cora asked.

  “Talk about? Yes, he spent a lot of time at my place. They were sweet together. He must be devastated.”

  “He is,” Cora said.

  Chelsea sat up a bit and puckered her mouth. “Something fishy is going on.”

  “What do you mean?” Jane said.

  “I mean, I remember the incident with that professor. I offered her legal advice at the time. She was torn up about the whole thing, of course, but I never thought she’d go back with him. In fact, I find it shocking,” she said.

  Cora’s stomach began to churn. Was it the coffee on an empty stomach—or was it what Chelsea said?

  “Young women do stupid thing sometimes,” Jane offered. “Especially when it comes to romance.”

  “She’s not that much younger than you,” Chelsea pointed out. “And she’s very bright. Dependable. Seemed to have her head on straight. I’m a good judge of character. I don’t get it. It makes no sense.”

  “Well, we are all agreed, then,” Cora said. “That something is off.”

  “What about Paul?” Jane asked. “She seemed to be annoyed with him from time to time.”

  Chelsea nodded. “I often wondered about that. He seemed obsessed with her.”

  “Maybe he was just madly in love,” Cora said, with hope in her voice.

  “That’s what I always came back to.”

  “But what about Henry?” Jane asked. “Did you know him well?”

  “Not really,” she said. “Shame about him, and the timing is weird, right?”

  She was justifying all their feelings about everything. But now what to do about it?

  “What if the woman in the cabin is not our Gracie?” Jane said after a moment. “Cashel said she fit the description. But did he ever say it was her? Positively?”

  Cora thought a moment. “No,” she said. “He said there was not a positive identification.”

  “You’re right,” Chelsea said, checking something on her smartphone. “No positive ID yet. The local cops probably know positively, but they are out in the middle of nowhere. There’s probably no Wi-Fi or maybe even cell phone service. It’s probably just a matter of time.”

  “I’m betting it’s not her,” Jane said. “I just have a very strong feeling about this.”

  “Okay, so let’s assume it’s not her and that Gracie is still missing,” Cora said.

  “This could be a matter of life and death,” Jane said. “I mean, if the police think the woman in the cabin is Gracie and it’s not really her and they stop searching for her. She could still be in danger.”

  “But Brodsky said they haven’t stopped,” Cora said.

  “They might. Any minute,” Chelsea said.

  “I have a little girl who is torn up about this and not sleeping. I want answers. And I’m going to get them,” Jane said.

  A large group came into the diner, followed by a man alone, who walked by their table. His stench wafted by Cora, who wrinkled her nose and turned her head.

  “Indigo Gap’s finest,” Chelsea said, and rolled her eyes. “If the man had a bath, it might kill him.”

  “I’ve seen him in here before,” Jane said. “He wore sweatpants that day. I guess the camo is a step up?”

  Cora didn’t care what a person wore, usually, but he was filthy. Long, stringy hair fell down his back—the least he could do was pull it into a ponytail.

  “I know his family. Very odd situation,” Chelsea said with her voice lowered.

  “He came to Kildare House,” Cora said, just then recognizing him. “He was looking for work. Said he’s starting a computer business.”

  “Best to avoid him, believe me,” Chelsea said.

  Poor man, Cora thought, wondering what his story was. But for now the image of the ruby slipper charm played in her mind, as she imagined it collecting the sun’s light and reflecting in the water as Maddy pulled it out of the river.

  Cora dialed Brodsky. “I can’t talk,” he said. “I’ve got to go. There was a break in Henry’s murder case. A meeting this morning.”

  Cora gasped. “Please let me know.”

  “Will do,” he said with a kind of glee in his voice, which was not like him. Nothing like a potentially solved murder case to put a song in your voice.

  Chapter 28

  Cora and Jane agreed that they needed to speak with a few more people about Gracie—and maybe Henry. They were going to come up with a list over brunch. In the meantime, they each would also do research online.

  The two of them walked up the stone sidewalk to Kildare House and up the stairs to the wraparound porch. The porch was one of the many things Cora loved about this old house—she loved the way it seemed to smile at people as they walked along the sidewalk. The day she moved in, she spruced up the front porch immediately with potted plants and wicker furniture. Jane had insisted on painting the door red. She also loved the many window seats the house held and certain creaks and moans of the house depending on where you stood and walked. She loved it. She was beginning to know this place intimately. As if it was home.

  She turned toward the town before opening the door, gazing over the pretty little historical town, and out into the distance at the mountains. Mountains with caves, and rocky ledges, and all sorts of water holes. Places Gracie could be. She shuddered and willed away images of dread.

  They opened the door to the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and coffee. Cora felt like swooning. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now. She breathed in deeply and headed for the dining room table, which was full of brunch food: French toast, berries, croissants, marmalade, miniquiches, and fruit. She piled her plate high as she smiled at Liv, who was just coming to the table.

  “Good morning,” Liv said.

  Cora nodded back. “Sleep well?” She didn’t really want to make chitchat, as the food was calling to her, filling her senses.

  “Yes. In fact, I don’t think I’ve slept so well in such a long time,” she said. “It’s so relaxing here.”

  “I’m glad to know that,” Cora said, as Ruby came up beside her.

  “That’s what we like to hear,” Ruby said. “The class this morning went well.”

  Cora couldn’t wait anymore. She took a bite of the French toast. Cinnamon and nutmeg flavors swirled in her mouth. She was in breakfast heaven
.

  “I’m sorry we missed it,” Cora said. “I would have loved to make some herbal crafts this morning. Especially the wreath. Your wreaths are gorgeous.”

  Ruby beamed. “Thanks. And little London did a fantastic job. What a kid.”

  Cora nodded. “I’m going to sit down,” Cora said. “Catch you both later.” She simply had to sit in order to tuck into this French toast. She wanted the recipe—she made a mental note to ask the caterer about it.

  The caterer was new to Cora, but everything was working out so well she might use the company again.

  Cora walked into the kitchen, where Jane was already sitting with London. She sighed. She was hoping to renovate the kitchen soon, but she didn’t think it would happen anytime this year. The kitchen was too small for her plans. She envisioned holding baking classes. The room was large enough, but the space wasn’t convenient for even one baker, let alone ten or twelve.

  London stood and ran to Cora, hugging her. “Hi there,” Cora said. “I heard you made a wreath this morning with Ruby.”

  London held up the wreath to show her.

  “Wow, how did you do that?” Cora asked. It was lovely—full of different shades of green and a variety of textures.

  “You have to use long herbs,” she said. “See, this is sage. This is rosemary.” She ran her fingers over the wreath and its scent filled the room. Fresh herbs.

  “I love it,” Cora said.

  “Me too,” Jane said. “I’m going to hang it on the front door.”

  London grinned and then took a bite of a croissant.

  Marianne entered the room. “I’m getting ready to start class. Just wanted to let you know.”

  “We’ll be there soon. We’ve gotten a bit of a late start,” Cora said.

  Marianne shrugged. “Well, today is basically about how to finish baskets. I’m sure you two can figure that out. Quite a gathering of women you’ve got here.”

  “Yes, it’s going well,” Jane said.

  “I’ve met some talented basket makers. Liv is doing quite well,” Marianne said. “You look at her and think . . .”

  “I know,” Cora said. “But she’s very gifted.”

  Liv, with her tattoos and black-purple hair, didn’t look like your usual crafter. But she was—and she was incredibly talented.

  “Maybe it’s just me. That Goth look is kind of scary. But she’s the sweetest thing,” Marianne said.

  “You shouldn’t judge people on how they look,” London piped up.

  Startled, Marianne laughed. “So true. I wouldn’t like it if someone judged me on how I looked.”

  London’s head tilted and she grinned.

  “It smells so good in here,” said Paul as he walked into the kitchen.

  “You better get some food before it’s all gone,” Cora said. The catering staff was in and out, moving all around the place.

  “There’s plenty,” one of the servers said as he passed by.

  “Thanks,” Paul said, and meandered off to the dining room, where there were stacks of muffins, bagels, rolls, and two huge pots of soup—vegetable and chicken noodle.

  “Quite a nice young man,” Marianne said after he left the room.

  “I’m curious,” Cora said. “Have you ever seen him before? I mean around campus?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m no longer at that school and I don’t know why they insist on putting my name on their catalog.”

  “Probably an oversight,” Jane said.

  “Yes, but it’s annoying,” she said. “I do remember Henry, though.”

  “Really?” Cora’s heart sped.

  “Yes,” she said. “He was a poetry fellow. A distinguished post. Then he turned to computer programming and gaming or some such thing. People were shocked. When I was leaving my post there, he was the talk of the school for giving up that prestigious fellowship to become a gamer.”

  Games. Again. Cora wanted to scream.

  “I checked out the game they were playing,” Jane said.

  “What game?” Marianne said.

  “Some kind of Wizard of Oz game,” Jane said. “I don’t know what the big deal is.”

  “I don’t follow,” Marianne said.

  “All three of them were into this game. I tried to play it. It’s like a kid’s game.”

  “Wait,” Cora said. “The game I saw was definitely not for kids. Are you sure it was the same game?”

  “I don’t know,” Jane said. “I’ll show it to you later.”

  “Well, I imagine if it was a game they were playing, and it was very sophisticated, it might have been on the Darknet,” Marianne said. “It’s all the rage with the young gamers.”

  “What?” Jane said.

  Just then one of the crafters walked by with her basket-in-progress.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I have to get to this class. We’ll talk later,” Marianne said.

  “Darknet, what is that? It sounds, I don’t know, scary,” Jane said.

  “It is,” Cora said grimly.

  Chapter 29

  Jane made her way back to the studio. Liv was already there, fussing over her clay charms.

  “I think they’re done,” she said. “It’s hard to know. I could play with the glaze forever.” She smiled at Jane and Jane was reminded of how young Liv was. Her youth came through as she “played” with her charms. Jane was happy to see it. Some took themselves so seriously and sucked all the playful energy out of the process. She had been there, a “serious” young potter, had so much stress and pressure in her life that she hadn’t noticed her then-husband’s alcohol addiction. Until the arrival of London.

  Some of Liv’s charms were deep red. Jane always liked that color. The imprints of the flowers and leaves on the clay left delicate designs. Liv elected to not use the gathered natural materials for some of her charms. She etched swirls and circles on them.

  “I really like these,” Jane said.

  Liv grinned. “I’m all about swirls these days.”

  “When are you graduating?”

  “Next year,” she said. “I need to make up my mind what to do next.”

  Just then London walked in with the iPad. “Is this the game you were talking about, Mommy?” She held up the iPad to Jane.

  “Yes, that’s The Wizard of Oz game I played the other night. Is it fun?” she asked.

  London shrugged. “It’s kind of easy. Gracie was smart. She wouldn’t play this game.”

  “No, she wouldn’t,” Jane said with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  “This is not the game that she was playing,” Liv piped up. “Paul and I played it yesterday. It was challenging. . . and gorgeous.”

  “Can I play it?” London asked.

  “I don’t think it’s for kids your age,” Jane said.

  Liv nodded. “I’d say so.”

  She helped Jane as they scraped the clay charms from the pan and London plopped onto a couch with the iPad, intent on playing the game.

  “Can you show me this game sometime before you go?” Jane asked Liv.

  “Sure,” she said. She was drilling a small hole into one of her charms. “Or Paul will show you. He’s such a great guy, huh?”

  Jane nodded. “From what I know of him.”

  Was the woman in the cabin Gracie? And why was it so hard for them to find out? Why were the police being so secretive about it? Was it, as Chelsea had suggested, just because the cabin was so far off the grid?

  “What? What’s going on?” Liv said. “There’s something else going on, isn’t there?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say anything,” Jane said, tilting her head in the direction of London.

  Liv nodded.

  Other students began to trickle in, as class was about to get started. Well, it wasn’t actually a class. It was more like a “finish up your clay charm” session. Jane stood back and surveyed the table, full of charms, some still warm.

  They were all different colors, different impressions, designs. A feeling of calm
came over her when she examined them and her studio. She had done well this weekend. Her students had learned a lot and produced a lot. She’d hang on to this feeling of accomplishment. She’d try not to think about the news they were waiting on—and that Gracie’s life was hanging in the balance.

  Chapter 30

  Cora was about to crack. She paced the length of her attic apartment. Was Gracie in a mountain cabin somewhere? Should she hope for that? This would break Paul’s heart, but at least they’d know she was still alive. If she wasn’t in there, where was she?

  She sat down at her computer, mulled over what they knew, grabbed her notebook, and wrote:

  Cora tapped her pencil on the table. What could she do? Who could she talk to? The one person she hadn’t talked with was Professor Harding’s wife. Hmm.

  She clicked on the computer and within minutes had her name and address. She lived only a few blocks from Kildare House. Good. She’d take a basket of muffins or cookies or whatever was left over from their brunches and introduce herself and poke around, just a bit. She imagined the woman was a mess, knowing her husband was in a cabin in the woods with a much younger woman, let alone a student. Or maybe he was back by now?

  Maybe the woman knew something that would lead them to some answers about where Gracie was—was she really with her husband, or was she still missing, somewhere out in the wilds of the mountains? Or worse?

  Should she butt into this situation?

  No, probably not. She bit her lip. But it could take forever for them to come up with the answer, couldn’t it? And if they went and talked with the police, going through proper channels, it might take too much time.

  Cora searched around the room for her purse and grabbed it from the edge of the bed, which prompted Luna to look up at her, blink, and then lay her head back down.

  Cora glanced at herself in the mirror, just to make certain she was decent-looking, and saw a button on her shirt was undone. She buttoned it and smoothed over her denim skirt, ran her fingers through her hair.

  She opened the door and Paul was standing there, just about to knock on the door.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey, I was just about to knock,” he said, and grinned. “They told me this is where you lived. Very cool.”