The Hermetic Detective (A Riga Hayworth Paranormal Mystery Book 7)

by Kirsten Weiss

  Emma’s cry rose to a shriek, and she batted her forehead against Riga’s shoulder as if possessed. Riga gritted her teeth and thought of zinfandel, puppies, and deserted islands.

  “Why should I risk jail for you?” he asked.

  Riga tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, cradling Emma’s head. “Because of a crooked politician, a killer, and a frail old woman who was forced to ask me for help. Think about it. You can stick it to the man and help out someone vulnerable. Maybe many someones.” If that didn’t convince the hacker, nothing would. She’d figured out early in their relationship that Jeff liked to picture himself as a hero.

  The hacker made an exasperated noise. “I really dislike you.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  The glass door behind her scraped back. Donovan emerged from the house, Jack kicking in one arm, two wine goblets filled with red liquid cradled in his free hand.

  Thank God.

  The dog trotted by his side, sniffing at Jack’s booties.

  Donovan sat on the edge of the stone ledge that rimmed the deck. Facing the lit house, he laid down the wine glasses.

  The dog wandered to the steps leading down to the pines and gazed into the pickets of trees.

  “Not for free I won’t,” Jeff said.

  “How much?”

  He named a price, and Riga winced. But she didn’t have a stable of willing hackers to choose from. It was Jeff, or she’d have to break into the Towers and steal Verdun’s computer. And Riga wasn’t at the top of her B&E game. “Deal,” she said.

  “I’ll call you when it’s done.” He hung up.

  “Any luck?” Donovan asked.

  “Jeff will do it.” Dropping her cellphone on the table, Riga brought Emma closer, rubbing her back and making a whooshing noise.

  Emma’s cry dropped to a dull whine.

  Jack regarded his sister, his eyes wide with interest, and her sniffling subsided. Peace at last.

  Donovan nodded toward the glasses, and Riga picked one up, took a sip. The peppery wine rolled over her tongue. She savored the wine’s flavor. Admiring the view, she imagined she could see the motion of the stars, wheeling above the lake.

  Her daughter reached for the goblet, and Riga moved it out of reach, raised it toward Donovan. “Thanks.”

  “Riga, I need to talk to you about Jack.”

  She tilted her head, waiting. “Oh?”

  “About the nanny I mentioned hiring. I narrowed the field to half a dozen potential nannies, but I didn’t bring the files home.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’ve had enough on your plate. I can go through the files tomorrow,” she said, relieved by the delay. Riga had mixed feelings about handing the twins off to a stranger.

  “I didn’t forget to bring them home,” he said. “I decided not to. It’s Jack. He showed up in my office this afternoon.”

  She blinked. “That’s a funny way to put it. You brought him to the casino.”

  “And I’d gotten them all — the babies, Pen, Brigitte — settled into the penthouse. I went downstairs to work in my office. About an hour later, Reuben walked in and fell flat on his face.”

  “I thought we were talking about Jack.”

  “He’d tripped over Jack. A minute later, Oz galloped into the room, howling. As soon as he laid eyes on Jack, Oz calmed down.” A corner of Donovan’s lips quirked. “Reuben’s blood pressure went in the opposite direction. My cousin is surprisingly entertaining when he’s mad.”

  Riga stared at her son, his feet swinging in Donovan’s arms. She’d misheard, misunderstood. “How did the dog get down to your office? Did he ride the elevator?”

  “The stairs. He was on the security camera.”

  “And Oz can open doors?” she asked, incredulous.

  “You’re missing the big picture, Riga.”

  “You think… Oz brought Jack to you?”

  “No. Oz arrived after Reuben tripped over Jack. I rounded up Jack and Oz and took them both upstairs. Emma was fast asleep in her crib. Pen and Brigitte hadn’t even noticed Jack and the dog had gone.”

  Riga’s grip tightened on her daughter. “Are you telling me Jack made it down a flight of stairs and into your office without anyone noticing? On his own? But… He’s not even crawling yet. He’d fall down before he crawled down a flight of stairs. It’s not possible.”

  He rubbed the faint, cross-shaped scar on his jaw. “You don’t think he can—”

  “No!” It wasn’t magic. It couldn’t be. “He’s just a baby. Babies can’t…” Could they? Riga had been a whiz at moving through the in-between when she’d been pregnant. Had Jack been helping? She shook her head, disbelieving. “No. I don’t believe it.”

  “Oz didn’t bring him downstairs,” Donovan said, grim. “The security cameras show the dog was alone when he galloped down the fire stairs.”

  “This is the fourth time Jack’s…” Her legs folded beneath her, and she landed on the stone ledge beside him. “My God. It’s got to be magic.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “It does tend to run in your family. But if he’s transporting himself… It took you years to learn to do that.”

  “And it still isn’t easy.” She swayed, stunned.

  “Have you ever sensed magic on Jack?”

  “No, but even if he had any, I might not sense it any more than I could sense magic on myself. He’s too much a part of me, of us.” If it were true, if Jack was making things happen, they couldn’t leave the twins with anyone outside the family. Forget the nannies. The twins wouldn’t be able to go to preschool.

  She stared at her husband, horrified. “I didn’t connect with my magic until I was in my twenties. I can’t imagine having that sort of power as a child.” Gaze unfocused, she stared at the lights shining through the high windows. “All right,” she said, her voice strained. “We’ve managed the twins so far on our own. It will be okay.”

  “Sure,” he said. “We didn’t really want nannies anyway.”

  “Right. I never liked the idea.” Twin baby magicians. This was a nightmare.

  “Ash knows us,” Donovan mused. “Maybe if I double his salary—”

  Riga groaned. “He’ll never go for it. He’s already complaining about the babies leeching away his testosterone.” And Pen wouldn’t stay around forever, or even until the kids hit grammar school. Grammar school? If Donovan was right, she’d have to homeschool them both. She forced a smile. “It will be okay. We’ll figure this out.” She changed the subject, not wanting to think about it any longer. “How’s Reuben?”

  “A little banged up, but my cousin will get over it. Ever since he remarried, he’s been in a marginally better mood.”

  Jack belched, spitting a stream of white liquid across Donovan’s black shirt.

  Donovan sighed and blotted the mess with the burp rag. “We’re alone. Pen can’t hear us. Now what is it that you haven’t been saying to me?”

  She raised a brow. “How do you know I don’t want Pen to hear?”

  “Because you just told me.”

  “I found Gold Watch.”

  “But?”

  “His name is Connor Tanhauser.”

  “Senator Stile’s aide?” A series of emotions flashed across his face. Surprise, anger, and an expression she hadn’t seen him wear before. Worry. “Tell me.”

  “When I was at the sheriff’s station, I recognized him on TV. The sheriff said he’d investigate, but—”

  “He tried to warn you off?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Gold Watch could be someone who just looks a lot like Tanhauser.”

  “It’s possible,” she said, grudging. But it was Tanhauser.

  Emma pulled at her collar.

  Or it was Tanhauser’s identical twin.

  “Tanhauser’s a quasi-public figure and a senator’s aide,” he said. “It should be easy to confirm his movements. I’ll put people on it.” His jaw tightened, grim.

  Riga drew breath to protest. She was rel
ying on Donovan too much, and she was a professional investigator. But the case had more moving parts than she liked — the staff at the senior facility, Tanhauser, a senator. She could use the help.

  Emma grabbed Riga’s bottom lip and tugged.

  She smiled, bending to her daughter, smelling Emma’s soft, baby smell. Riga disentangled herself. “Thanks. And I’ll work the senior facility angle. I have no idea how I’d get to the senator anyway.”

  He lifted a brow. “Don’t you?”

  She stared. “You don’t mean you know him?”

  “Gaming is practically a government-run industry. If I want to stay in business, I have to maintain a relationship with all the lawmakers. I’ll talk to Stile.” His face hardened, chiseled in stone.

  “We’ll talk to him,” she said.

  “If his aide, Tanhauser, is the man we think he is, and he sees you, he’ll be able to put a name and address to your face. It’s best I go alone.”

  Her jaw tightened. Yes, Donovan wanted to protect her, saw it as his job. But this case had come to her, dammit. “There’s death magic about Tanhauser. If I don’t go, we won’t know if the senator is also tainted.”

  Donovan pursed his lips, his expression skeptical.

  “Mrs. Norton came to me,” she said.

  “There’s more at stake now than just you and I, Riga.”

  Riga swallowed, her throat thickening with shame. Now there were the children to keep safe. “Of course. You’re right.”

  “I’ll tell you when I get the appointment. But whoever he is, Pen needs this bastard’s description,” he said, “and to understand who we may be dealing with.”

  “I’ll tell her about Tanhauser. I only wanted to talk to you about it first.”

  “What’s your plan for investigating the facility tomorrow?” Donovan asked.

  Emma’s hands fisted in the soft fabric of Riga’s shirt.

  If their suspicions were right, they’d have to be careful about the children. “I’m not sure. But I’ll make arrangements with Pen until we can figure out other options for the twins.” She was not setting aside a murder investigation because she couldn’t get a sitter. True, her career as metaphysical detective and D-list reality TV star hadn’t set the world on fire. But Tanhauser wasn’t entirely of this world. The police wouldn’t be able to cope.

  The investigation was on her.

  “Why were you so worried about Pen earlier?” he asked.

  “Vinnie. He came to me in a dream.”

  Donovan’s green eyes crinkled. “How is he?”

  “Unchanged. It’s the second time he’s dropped in on one of my dreams in as many days. The weird thing is, I can’t remember the first time. I remember talking about it with Vinnie in today’s dream, and it made sense at the time, but even that’s fading.”

  “Isn’t that the nature of dreams?”

  “Not my dreams.” A mosquito buzzed past, and she swatted, ineffectual, at the air. “The first time Vinnie showed up was just before Mrs. Norton arrived. He was warning me, I think.” She took another sip of wine.

  “Did he tell you anything useful?”

  “Today? Only that I needed to answer three questions. Why am I so forgetful, why am I asking the wrong questions, and what happened to Pen?” She’d written the questions down so she wouldn’t forget.

  “Huh.”

  “I thought he’d meant that Pen had been hurt or attacked.”

  “Not since last year. Could that be what he meant?”

  “Maybe.”

  “She’s a survivor, Riga.”

  “Is she? I’m not so sure anymore. I think there’s more going on with Pen than you or I know.”

  “You think she’s keeping things from you?”

  “Of course she is. She’s twenty-one, and I’m… not. Has she said anything to you about returning to her job in L.A.?”

  “No.”

  “Film-making was her obsession. Now she just wants to work here with Brigitte and me. People’s ideas of what they want to do in life change, especially at that age. But she’s shifted onto an entirely different track.”

  “Why don’t you just ask her?”

  She gave him a look.

  “Ah,” he said. “You already have.”

  “When I was her age, feeling magic for the first time, I didn’t handle the power well.”

  “You were on your own. She’s not.”

  “No.” Riga made a face. “She has Brigitte.”

  “Jealous?” He draped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. He smelled of the woods on a hot day, of musk, and of Jack’s talcum powder.

  She smiled. “A little.” For so long, the only person she’d had to worry about was herself. Then she met Donovan. And now she was responsible for Emma and Jack, and Pen was at a dangerous time, and her best friend, Brigitte, had defected to the younger team. She may as well have been scooped up and dropped onto an alien planet, so thoroughly had her life been overturned.

  Emma’s head dropped to her chest, asleep at last.

  Riga drew a slow breath and silently thanked heaven for small mercies.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  White clouds massed above the mountains, reflecting their snowy peaks. Curtains of sunlight streamed through them, sparkled across the lake.

  Three days until the solstice.

  Riga and Pen sat at the kitchen counter, feeding the twins breakfast in their infant seats. Sweat pooled at the small of Riga’s back, where the holster locked into her belt. Her thin, black blouse did little to hide the weapon, but she wasn’t going anywhere without it today. She’d learned her lesson.

  Pen scooped a tiny spoonful of pureed carrots from the jar. “Um, do you need me to watch the twins today?”

  Riga’s stomach churned, and she reminded herself not to be greedy, that Pen had a life too. She had hoped to visit the Towers today, but there was other work she could do from home. “You’ve earned a day off. Besides, I have to take the twins to their doctor’s appointment this morning. Why? What’s your schedule?”

  “I’m going to the tea shop to meet a few friends.” She shot Riga a quick, sideways glance.

  “You mean the woo-woo tea shop?”

  Pen grinned. “It’s a lot less woo-woo than you and I.”

  The Mystic Tea Shop was more marketing than magic, but they blended good teas, and the owner was a relative of sorts — Reuben’s new wife. “I thought we agreed you’d stay home until we took care of our little problem.”

  “It’s just the tea shop.”

  Riga sighed. “Fine, pick up a box of that licorice tea for me, will you?”

  “Sure, but, I’ll be there a couple hours.” Color rose to her cheeks. “I’m teaching a workshop there. Spiritual alchemy.”

  Riga lowered her spoon. Pen was teaching? Had made friends here? “At the tea shop?” Why was this the first she’d heard of it?

  Grunting with frustration, Jack kicked his feet, his mouth wide.

  Hastily, Riga slipped the spoon into his mouth.

  “Brigitte says it’s an important part of my training,” Pen said in a rush. “That teaching forces you to learn a topic at a deeper level.”

  “She’s right. I just meant the tea shop is tight quarters for a lecture,” Riga lied. She’d never taught anyone aside from her niece. Riga worked alone, hadn’t made any real friends aside from Brigitte. But there was no reason to inflict that kind of isolation on Pen. And there were benefits to being plugged in to the magical network.

  “It’s amazing how many people can fit inside that old photo shack when things are rearranged.”

  “I’m sorry I’ll miss your debut,” Riga said. “Do you want to practice your lesson with me before you leave?”

  “I’ve been practicing with Brigitte. I just hope I’m giving them something worthwhile.”

  “Of course you will.” Riga scraped a dollop of carrots from Jack’s chin and tried to ignore the pain knifing between her ribs.

  “But I
was wondering,” Pen said, “I’d like to move on to alchemy in a lab.”

  “And you need a space that won’t be disturbed?” Was Pen leaving? Had she already found a new home?

  Pen shifted in her chair, and it squeaked on the tiles. “I was thinking of that little mother-in-law cottage you have out back. That way if anything goes wrong, well, the main house won’t be affected.”

  “If you blow yourself up, I’ll be affected one way or another,” Riga said lightly. “Your mother will kill me.”

  “I promise not to blow myself up.”

  Riga snorted. “Like I’d take that promise at face value.” A dozen reasons to say “no,” half selfish, half fearful, rose to Riga’s lips. And then she thought of that sun-like halo she’d seen last night. She swallowed. “That makes sense. I’d like a word with Brigitte before we commit to this, to make sure she’s thought it through. But I don’t see why you couldn’t use the cottage.”

  “Ah…” Pen’s foot kicked the counter door. “Brigitte’s not involved.”

  “She’s not,” Riga said, voice flat.

  “She said I don’t need it. But alchemy is a part of hermetic studies, and I want to do real work. And about the cottage, if it’s okay, I’d like to move in there too, to live.”

  Avoiding her niece’s gaze, Riga dug into the jar with the baby spoon. She couldn’t decide what to tackle first — Pen going against Brigitte’s advice or wanting to move out. She chose the easier path. “The babies keeping you up nights?”

  “It’s not that. I love the twins, and you and Donovan and Brigitte. And I appreciate you letting me stay. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me after…” She trailed off, gnawing her lower lip. “It took getting kidnapped by that lunatic in New Orleans for me to finally understand why you’ve been fighting. You’ve got a purpose. I want that. I want to learn, and this is the best place for me to do it, if I’m not too much trouble.”

  “Trouble? You’ve been a lifesaver helping out with Emma and Jack.”

  “It’s the least I can do in return,” Pen said, “and I want to keep helping. I just need more alone time. You know what alchemy’s like. You’ve done the work.”

  Scooping her son from his infant seat, Riga paced the tiled kitchen, patting his back. “Did Brigitte tell you that?”