Legend of the Jade Dragon

by Yasmine Galenorn

  As the afternoon wore on, I began to feel jittery. The caffeine was wearing off, yet my mind was still racing. The destruction of Miranda’s telescope had spooked me. And why had Daniel been so resigned, so depressed? Why couldn’t the police find any mention of his family? I opened my purse and withdrew the carefully wrapped package containing the dragon. After telling Lana that I’d be back in a few minutes, I dashed across the road, carefully looking to make sure the way was clear. I wasn’t going to set myself up for an encore of yesterday’s tragedy.

  Mr. Hodges had perused the Chintz ’n China a number of times, now and then buying a gift for his wife. He greeted me when I slipped into the hushed foyer of Hodges & Sons. I handed him the dragon. “I’d like to find out an approximate age and value on this, if you can come up with anything.”

  His eyes twinkled. “A welcome challenge, Ms. O’Brien. Can you come back Monday? I should be able to have an estimate for you then.”

  “Sure thing.” I took my receipt and darted back across the street. As I hit the door, I almost ran into Kip, who came barreling down the sidewalk. He grumbled a hello, and I gave him a sidelong look. Something was up.

  “You okay?” He nodded, but I wasn’t buying it. I knelt beside him, looking him over for any blood, broken bones, or chipped teeth. Nope, nada, but I knew he didn’t get that storm-brewing look unless he was upset. “C’mon kiddo, what’s going on?”

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

  I gave him a pointed stare. “Excuse me, mister? What did you say?”

  He lost it then, shouting in my face. “Sly and Tony said I couldn’t play with them, okay? Sly said Tony’s his new best friend, and they laughed at me and called me a wimp and told me to run home to my mama! Are you happy now?” With an abrupt stop, he burped. I led him into my office where I handed him a tissue and gently smoothed back his hair. He blew his nose.

  “I assume you know better than to shout at me like that?”

  Kip swallowed, then nodded.

  “All right, we’ll consider it a temporary lapse of judgment. So Sly and Tony are best friends now, huh?” I sat down and tried to pull him onto my lap, but he pushed me away. My little boy was growing up. With a bittersweet pang, I let him go, and he slumped in the chair beside me.

  “I bet you really feel awful.”

  “Nope, I don’t care.” He scuffed the floor with the toe of his shoe. “They said that I wasn’t any fun anymore ’cause I said I couldn’t go play in the old Winyard house.” He lowered his voice and looked up at me, his expression grave and drawn.

  The Winyard house! Heaven help us. The Winyard house was a death trap. “Kip, I’m very proud of you. Remember Tommy?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, his leg’s still busted.” Several months before, a group of Kip’s friends had gone over there to play, pulling off some rotten slats to crawl inside. Tommy Parker had fallen through the flooring to the basement.

  “He was lucky he wasn’t killed. I’m glad you have sense enough to say no, though I’m sorry about what happened with Sly and Tony.” It occurred to me that he should be rewarded for finally using his common sense. “Tell you what. Tomorrow we’re going to Bellingham. How would you like it if I dropped you at the skateboard park there? You can practice while Miranda and I shop.”

  A smile broke through his gloom. “That’d be great. You mean you’d let me practice by myself while you’re in the store?”

  Skies & Scopes, which carried most of the astronomy equipment that Miranda coveted, was right across the street from the skateboard park. “As long as you wear your safety gear at all times, right?” He nodded. “You know the drill: keep in plain sight at all times, no talking to strangers or going anywhere with them. In other words—”

  “Use my head,” he finished for me and threw his arm around me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks Mom. I’m gonna go home and play Nintendo.” With that, he slipped out the door.

  I eyed the pile of invoices yet to be paid. Time to plow through paperwork again. I’d just started in on the first batch of bills when Lana tapped on the door and peeked in. “Emerald? Someone named Oliver is asking for you.”

  I brushed my bangs away from my eyes. So much for getting any business done today. I pushed myself out of the chair and followed her to the front counter. Oliver was poking around the shelves. He’d cleaned up pretty good, wearing a rust-colored polo shirt and khaki pants, though he still reminded me of a squirrel.

  “I dropped by to let you know that Aunt Ida took off about an hour ago.”

  I motioned to Lana. “Take your break now; I’ll watch the front for a while.” I turned back to Oliver. “I’m glad to hear that. So, have you been prowling around Chiqetaw today?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. I spent the morning going over the house with Aunt Ida so I’d know what to do while she’s gone, then decided to take a walk. I noticed your daughter outside picking up some sort of metal scrap off your lawn.”

  Nobody could keep secrets in Chiqetaw, that was for sure. “Last night we had a freak accident; her telescope fell off the roof.” I explained about Miranda’s peculiar habit of sitting out on the roof at night to watch the stars.

  He leaned against the wall, arms loosely crossed. “She sounds like a bright girl. That looked like an expensive telescope. A real loss. You buying her a new one?” he asked, giving me the once-over; the kind of look that makes a woman feel that she’s been eyed a little too closely.

  I pulled back. I’d been dating a writer named Andrew since December. We butted heads more often than a pair of mountain goats, and I had the feeling that neither one of us was sure just what direction, if any, the relationship was heading. We enjoyed each other’s company, though, and the sex was good, but sometimes I got the feeling Andrew wanted to be the “smart one” in the relationship, which kind of bothered me. Then, a week ago, he’d dropped the bomb. He never wanted to get married, he said, and now I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

  As if things weren’t complicated enough, add in one Joe Files, captain of the medic rescue unit, who was bent on usurping Andrew’s place in my life. Joe was easygoing, and we had a lot of fun together, laughing and joking around. We were probably better suited, but the fact that he was ten years younger than me made me hesitate.

  At any rate, I wasn’t about to encourage Ida’s nephew. I decided to stick to lighthearted banter. “Expensive telescope? You’d better believe it. It would be so much easier if she preferred sports; or maybe something artsy.” I pointed toward the tearoom. “Why don’t you have some tea or cider? I’ll see if I can come up with a list of Chiqetaw’s highlights while you eat; then you can take them in at your leisure. It won’t take long, believe me.”

  He poured himself a cup of hot cider. “You have no idea how good it feels to be here instead of locked up.” He glanced at me warily, and I knew he was gauging my reaction to his mention of prison.

  “I bet. How did you manage to stay sane there?” I wanted to get back to work but didn’t have the heart to be rude. This was probably the first time in a long while that he’d talked to anybody except other inmates. The lack of culture had to be difficult for someone with an artist’s soul.

  “You learn to adjust. Prison requires quite a different mind-set, a shift in perception,” he said, leaning against the counter as he sipped his apple cider. “Ida was my one saving grace while I was on the inside. Knowing she believed in me made all the difference.”

  I paused. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened with your mother? What you did doesn’t seem so bad to me.”

  I wasn’t prepared for Oliver’s swift reaction to my comment. His eyes flashed, and his words came out as sharp enough to slice a brick like butter. “My mother was too busy with her damn friends to care whether I was alive or dead—” He stopped abruptly, inhaling deeply. I could hear the air whistle through his teeth. When he continued, his voice was level again. “My mother threw tantrums when
she didn’t get her way, and if anybody so much as threatened to damage the family name, she cut them out of her life. My arrest was an embarrassment she couldn’t live down.”

  I detected an edge of bitterness in his tone. “I take it you’re the black sheep of the family?”

  He snorted. “Are you kidding? I quit the pretentious Kjeldsen Akademi, I majored in art history, I came back to the U.S. without a degree or a prestigious marriage. Those alone were criminal acts in my mother’s eyes. When I got busted, it was the final straw.”

  As he spoke, I tried to catch a glimpse of his aura, but when I tuned in, a blast of static smacked me upside the head, stabbing me with a piercing ache between my eyes.

  “Jeez!”

  He scowled. “What’s wrong?”

  I couldn’t tell him what I was thinking. Oliver’s energy was a whirl of static; no doubt prison had skewed his aura. Whatever the case, he could stand for a good psychic cleansing, but I was keeping my mouth shut on that little matter. No way was I going to volunteer for the job.

  “I just got nailed by a sudden headache.”

  As I searched for another subject to fill the rapidly growing lull, Oliver raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat. “So, Aunt Ida tells me you’re psychic. Tell me about my future, Gypsy woman. That is, if you can.”

  Demanding bugger, wasn’t he? It was clear he was goading me, seeing if he could push my buttons. Irritated, I shook my head. “I’m German and Irish, not Gypsy. My name isn’t Madame Zelda, I don’t play parlor games, and I don’t run a carnival sideshow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

  A glower passed over his face, then he gave me a sheepish grin. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just curious what kind of show you put on for the locals to get them so hooked. Aunt Ida said people here in town love you.”

  Love me? Considering the community’s response to my solving Susan Mitchell’s murder, maybe Ida was right. People did flock to my shop now, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t last. I’d be yesterday’s news before the spring was out. Before I could respond, he changed the subject, effectively ending the conversation by ordering a chicken salad sandwich and Earl Grey tea. I decided to drop the issue and offered him the morning newspaper. While he ate, I jotted down a quick list of sights for him to see and then dove back into my work.

  If I’d been afraid he would continue to talk my ear off, I needn’t have worried. He drank his tea in silence while reading the paper. After eating his sandwich, he handed me a five and I counted out his change, then gave him the list of town sights and waved as he headed out the door. Yep, Oliver was definitely an odd duck, no doubt about it, and I wasn’t sure just what I thought of him. But he was Ida’s nephew, and after three years in prison, I’d probably seem strange, too.

  I turned back to my inventory sheets, but within five minutes the phone rang and, exasperated, I grabbed the receiver. The way things were shaping up, I wasn’t going to get a thing done today.

  “Em, I’m bored!” Harlow’s oh-so-familiar refrain rang in my ear.

  I put down my pencil and smiled. I always made time for my other best friend. “How long till you’re out of the wheelchair, Cap’n?”

  “You’re getting into a rut. That’s the first question you ask me every time you talk to me. The doctor said I’ll be on my feet again within the week. At least I’ll be able to see them for another month or two before they disappear when my baby balloon swells up.” Harlow was nearly five months pregnant and starting to show.

  “What did the doctor say about your ribs and legs?” I asked. Her accident last December seemed to have left some lingering damage.

  “He said the bones should be healed by now, but apparently I’ve been low on calcium for a long time, so they’re a little bit brittle. My physical therapist thinks that I’m making progress, though I’ll be using a walker for a few weeks after I’m out of the chair.” I muttered something about buying her some calcium supplements but she brushed me off. “Hey! I saw you mentioned on TV again. You planning on becoming a Kato Kaolin?”

  I snorted. “Hope not. I’m not that photogenic. Anyway, I’m glad you called. Want to go out to dinner tomorrow night? I’ve had a very strange week and could use some company.”

  “Uh-oh. What’s up? I can hear that ‘something’s not right’ tone in your voice.”

  What was up? What indeed? “I don’t know, to be honest. But tomorrow’s Sunday, and since I hired Lana, I don’t have to work. Maybe if we meet for dinner, I can shake off this mood.” She put me on hold to ask her mother-in-law if she could cadge a ride to the restaurant. When she came back, it was all set.

  “I’ll meet you at five o’clock at the Brown Bear Bar & Grill. I’m so glad my mother-in-law’s around. Hannah’s incredible; it would be a nightmare to have to go through all this without anybody here. I sure miss James.” Her husband was off in Africa on a photo safari shoot.

  I said good-bye and hung up, wondering why I felt so uneasy.

  GRATEFUL THAT IT was Saturday night, I picked up a bucket of chicken for dinner, setting it on the kitchen counter as I came through the door. The kids could nuke it when they were hungry. Miranda had left me a note saying she was at the library and would be home by seven. Kip was in the backyard, playing some sort of army game.

  I traded my shoes for a pair of fuzzy slippers and settled back in the recliner. Andrew was coming over; we were planning on kicking back to watch TV or listen to music. While I waited for him to arrive, I mulled over who I could ask to keep an eye on the kids Sunday evening. I supposed I could just leave Miranda in charge; she was old enough to watch her brother, except that Ida was out of town and I didn’t like leaving them alone without a safety net. Randa was a good girl, but I knew very well that she lost touch with reality when she buried her nose in a book.

  When Andrew arrived, he ruffled my hair and nuzzled the top of my head. “Why so glum, sweetheart?” he asked, settling in on the arm of my chair.

  “It’s been a strange week, and I want to go out to dinner with Harlow tomorrow, but I don’t have anyone to stay with the kids, and since Ida’s out of town, I’m not comfortable leaving them alone.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll come over and stay with them. You go out with Harlow and have a good time.”

  “You’d do that for me?” I squeezed his hand. He stood up, looking as if he had something more to say. “Yes?” I said, waiting expectantly.

  “I’ve got good news, honey.” Beaming, he held up a copy of his novel, The Mistress of Peachtree Manor. “Maxis Studio optioned my newest romance, and they may agree to let me write the screenplay. By tomorrow night, my agent will know if I’m supposed to fly down to Hollywood to discuss a screenwriting deal!”

  “Really? Oh Andrew, I’m so proud of you!” I jumped up and gave him a resounding kiss.

  He ducked his head, suddenly shy. “Thanks, but it’s not a done deal just yet. I have to be honest though; I’ve been waiting for this break a long time. Anyway, I can transfer my calls to my cell and hang out with the kids while I wait for George to call.”

  He pressed me into his arms as he slid one hand behind my neck and hungrily met my lips. Enjoying the fire, once again I was torn about the relationship. Here was a gorgeous, sexy, brilliant man who wanted me. But—and it was a big but—we were so different that, when I was honest with myself, I didn’t hold out much hope for the long haul. Frustrated, I pushed away my thoughts and slipped out from under his embrace.

  “C’mon babe, let’s go to my place for an hour or so.” He winked at me, but I was too frazzled to respond.

  I brushed his cheek with my fingers. “Sorry, sweetie, but I’m too tired to go out again tonight.”

  “I could stay here,” he ventured, but I nixed the idea. He knew what the score was, and that didn’t include overnights at my house just yet.

  The front door slammed, and Miranda came in. “I called the Skies & Scopes store; they have
one telescope left, and I asked them to hold it until tomorrow.”

  “That’s great, honey.”

  She gave me a smile, grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl, and took off upstairs.

  I glanced at Andrew; he was scowling at the television. “I know you aren’t happy with the way things are. Neither am I, but for now, this is the way it is.”

  He snorted. “Uh-huh. Let’s just skip it, huh? What’s on Nova tonight?”

  I let it drop, and the evening passed with an uneasy truce, but there was no way I could avoid facing the fact that we were on a collision course, headed for “the talk.”

  AFTER WE RETURNED from a successful trip to the astronomy shop on Sunday, I left Andrew to listen to Randa bubble over about her new—and even better—telescope, and Kip brag about skating with the big kids.

  The Sunday crowd was light at the Brown Bear Bar & Grill, supposedly a family diner. The lounge saw more action than the grill, I thought, as I skirted the bar, avoiding the leers from the guys lined up at the counter. There was a baseball game on TV, and it looked like half of the male population of Chiqetaw had shown up to drink beer and shout at the umpire. As I slipped into the dining room, I felt overexposed. I was sporting the new skirt and top I’d bought over a month ago but hadn’t yet had the guts to wear. When I woke up feeling like I needed a pick-me-up, I decided that new clothes might do the trick. Now, I wasn’t so sure about my decision.

  The skirt was a gauzy plum broomstick design, the top a snug ivory camisole made out of cotton eyelet lace that tied up the front. Even though I’d worn an ivory bra, I felt bare-naked underneath. What had gotten into me? I never bought frilly clothes, but when Joe pointed at a catalog sitting on my coffee table and said, “You’d look great in that,” vanity won. I’d ordered the duo. As I looked at myself in the mirror, the whole effect was definitely more froufrou than I usually liked. However, the ensemble did accentuate my curves in a positive light, and I felt like I should be out in a meadow, running barefoot through wildflowers with a wide-brimmed straw hat in hand.