“Croak?”
“Because,” Morrie said. “Because he’s family, and I love him. I can say that now, because I’m in touch with my feelings. I love this strange little bird, and I love Heathcliff, and I love Mina, and I even love you, Detective Hayes. Would you like a hug, too?”
Even with the horror of the situation, Morrie’s words made my heart swell with love. I sank against Heathcliff, wrapping my arm around Morrie so that I could stroke Quoth’s neck and feel his tiny heart beating furiously beneath his feathers. My family. We are all safe.
Morrie’s admission of love to me, and the way he held Quoth, healed something inside me. It was the final puzzle piece falling into place, revealing an image more radiant and real than I ever thought possible. I knew that all three of my guys cared about each other in the same way they cared about me.
A corner of my father’s letter scraped against my chest. In all the excitement, I’d hardly thought of him or it the entire weekend. Which was exactly what I’d wanted, but also… it didn’t matter anymore. Whatever his reason for doing it, the reality was that my father abandoned me. But Quoth, Heathcliff and Morrie – they were here for me. They were my family now.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Another day, another murder solved,” Morrie said, leaning against the side of the building and tapping away on his phone. “If I wasn’t still trying to run a criminal empire, I might consider hanging our shingle out as consulting detectives.”
Heathcliff shoved the shop door open. A ball of fur launched itself from the blackened depths and wound around Heathcliff’s face. “Meeerrrroooww!” Grimalkin howled, letting every resident of Argleton know just how abominably treated she’d been, locked up in the shop for a night and a day.
“All right, all right.” Heathcliff tore her off his face. “I’ll get you some food.”
Grimalkin’s ears pricked up. She immediately jumped down and trotted off in the direction of her food bowl. Cats really are nature’s master manipulators.
I went through the shop, flicking on lights and lamps as I went. Outside, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, and I could barely see a foot in front of my face. We’d been such a long time at Baddesley Hall, filling Hayes and Wilson in on what we’d uncovered. They found David tied up and stuffed inside Christina’s closet, his own silk stocking shoved in his mouth as a gag. It appeared she cared enough for him not to kill him. He confirmed our story – he knew Christina was seeing Alice in secret, and he’d been escorting Christina through the garden before the memorial when she had him stop to eavesdrop on Alice and my conversation.
Murder thus solved, we then had to wait for the police to figure out the bomb threat was a hoax and let us all go. I felt terrible about that, but if I hadn’t done it, we wouldn’t have caught Christina in time, and Professor Carmichael would’ve been her next victim. Lydia didn’t get a pony, which was at least one upside. I couldn’t imagine how we’d keep the thing at Nevermore.
“Stop lighting this place up like the Blackpool Illuminations,” Heathcliff muttered as he slumped behind his desk. In retaliation, I flicked the Snoopy lamp above his head. He waved a hand in front of his face. “Gross. This place smells like customers. How many people did you let in this weekend, Quoth?”
In response, Quoth flicked the ledger open and pointed to his total for the weekend. Heathcliff glowered at the number. “You put the decimal point in the wrong place.”
“I didn’t. That’s how many books you can sell at Christmas time if you’re not the Grinch.” His point made, Quoth transformed into his bird form and perched on the chandelier to stare down at Heathcliff, as if daring him to do better.
While Heathcliff stared at the number in disbelief, I collected my nerve. “Guys, I have something to tell you.”
Quoth immediately fluttered down from the chandelier and settled on my shoulder. Now? He asked inside my head.
I nodded.
“What?” Heathcliff demanded.
“Don’t tell me,” Morrie added. “You’ve decided that next week we’re going to a Jane Austen dance-a-thon. I’ll go out and buy some shin-guards.”
As quickly as I could, I explained about the lights I’d been seeing, and what Dr. Clements said at my appointment. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I wanted to, but I was afraid. Talking about it makes it real. I just wanted more time with you all, having fun, solving murders and shelving books, before the lights went out.”
“You told Quoth,” Morrie said. He looked hurt.
“I did. Because I needed the comfort only he could give.” I looked at all three of them in turn. “This weekend has shown us why this crazy thing we’re doing actually seems to work. We all have strengths. Morrie’s brain works in incredible ways. Heathcliff’s loyalty and passion protect us all. Quoth’s kindness makes us want to be better people. I love you all. I do.” Tears pricked in my eyes. “I know that’s crazy, but I can’t help it. You’ve bloody wormed your way into my heart and you won’t leave.”
“We’ll never leave,” Heathcliff growled. “But you can’t keep stuff like this from us.”
“Agreed. I won’t do that anymore. I promise.” I held my hand over my heart. “If it’s any consolation, I fucking hated every minute of it.”
Heathcliff crushed me against his body. “I hate that I can’t fix this,” his voice rumbled against my ear. “Just take my eyes. I’m only wasting them reading books and labels on whisky bottles.”
“Reading books is never a waste,” I sniffed. “That’s how I fell in love with you the first time.”
“Hey, if she’s having anyone’s eyes, it’s gonna be mine,” Morrie piped up. “Yours are too dark. Blue with her complexion would be magnificent.”
“She should have mine,” Quoth said quietly. “They work better than your human eyes.”
“I’m not taking anyone’s eyes,” I laughed, even as fresh tears spilled down my face. “But you guys might have to be my eyes sometimes, if you’re okay with that? Things could change quite quickly for me, and I don’t want any of you to be in this if you’re not comfortable with how it’s going to end.”
“Don’t say shit like that,” Heathcliff snarled. “I could sooner forget you than my own existence.” He pressed his lips to mine, crushing out my final doubts in a kiss that sizzled from my lips right through my veins. There he goes, taking my breath away again.
As if to prove his point, Heathcliff reached behind his desk and turned on a red Japanese lantern light I’d left there. “You brighten the place up,” he muttered.
Quoth nuzzled my cheek. I’m always here for you, he promised. I broke from Morrie’s kiss to press my lips against Quoth’s soft feathers.
Morrie stepped up to our little group, his arrogant smirk wavering at the edges. “Don’t make me say it again,” he muttered.
I tapped my foot.
Morrie sighed. “Fine. I love you, Mina Wilde. And I love Sir Grumplestein and that stupid bird, too. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” I wrapped them all against me, holding them close. My men made of flesh and blood and complications, better in every way than their fictional counterparts. I didn’t ever, ever want to let them go.
“Will you stay the night?” Morrie asked, his voice hopeful.
“I’d love to. You have no idea how much. But not tonight,” I sighed. Lydia was kipping on Morrie’s bed, which meant we couldn’t do anything R-rated anyway. In my pocket, my phone vibrated. Again. “There’s something I have to do.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I stepped out of the rideshare, my heart in my throat. Even though I faced down a crazed murderer earlier today, it was this meeting that made my whole body shake with fear.
In front of me stood the flat I grew up in. The broken screen hung on rusty hinges. From the depths of the neighbor’s house, someone yelled obscenities. The other neighbor’s kitchen windows were blacked out with newspaper – a sure sign that inside they were cooking drugs. Old car parts and overflowing
bins littered the pavement.
It had been my home once, but it wasn’t anymore.
I took a deep breath, climbed the steps, and shoved my key in the lock. Pushing the door open a crack with my boot, I checked she wasn’t waiting in the hall to murder me. If she did, I honestly wouldn’t blame her. Seeing and hearing nothing, I pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside.
“Hey, Mum.”
She glanced up from the kitchen table. The red rings around her eyes made her look older. When she registered my presence, her whole face collapsed with pent-up emotion. “Mina? Where have you been? I was so worried when you didn’t reply to my messages. I was about to call the police!”
A wave of defensiveness welled up inside me, but I bit it back. My lower lip quivered. “I know, Mum. I’m sorry.”
“You’re—”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a real cow lately.” I set my bag down in the hallway. “Can I make some tea? I’d really like to talk.”
Mum nodded toward the kitchen. Her whole body sagged in her seat, and she wrung her hands together. I studied her as I filled the kettle and set it on the stove. Why didn’t she run at me to hug me and touch me, the way she always did? Something kept her in her seat, staring at me with wary eyes. I hated myself for hurting her so deeply.
“Where have you been?” she said, her voice hoarse. “Why didn’t you answer my calls? I called the shop, but Allan told me you were at Baddesley Hall. Then I heard there was a murder and a bomb scare. A bomb scare, Mina! You should have told me you were okay.”
As I collected our two favorite cups and some biscuits from the tin, I noticed the kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned. There was still a faint smattering of glitter everywhere, but that was only because glitter was the herpes of the craft world – no matter how carefully you wash, you can’t stop it spreading.
“I know. I really am sorry. I wanted to call, but the police wouldn’t let us make calls out while the Hall was in lockdown. It really wasn’t as exciting as they made out – just some dumb local kids playing a hoax.” Minimize it as much as possible, or she’s not going to accept what you say next.
“What were you even doing up there, anyway? Is this your life now that you’re dating Morrie, swanning around in grand houses and being too good to talk to your mother?”
“Please don’t think that! First of all, I’m not dating Morrie. Cynthia Lachlan invited me to their fancy Jane Austen weekend because I helped clear her husband’s name in Mrs. Scarlett’s murder. I wish you’d been able to see Baddesley Hall, Mum. It was insane. The room I stayed in was four times the size of this entire flat. There was a gilded fireplace!”
“It sounds special,” Mum said, her voice closing up.
I found the sugar bowl hidden behind a stack of soap-making instruction sheets that still bore the scars of the Great Glitter Unicorn Poop Attack. “If I’m ever invited again, I’ll take you with me. I think you’d really enjoy it.”
The kettle boiled. I poured our tea to our individual tastes, and set hers down in front of her. Mum didn’t touch it, her eyes following me as I moved around the table and sat down opposite her.
I sipped my tea, the hot liquid giving me the courage to say what I needed to say. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve said that a hundred times, but I need to say it again. I’ve been ignoring you because I was angry, and that was wrong. I promise I won’t do that anymore.”
“I don’t understand you anymore!” Mum shot back. “I’m trying to look after you and keep you safe! I thought that’s why you came home, because with your eyesight you’re going to need so much help. But ever since Ashley was killed and you started working at the bookshop, you’ve been pushing me away. You snap at me whenever I try to help. You don’t listen to me. You’re acting like a spoiled teenager, and that’s not like you at all!”
“You’re right, I have been acting horribly. That’s on me, too. I resented having to come back to England. I wanted to be in New York, working in fashion. I didn’t want things to change, and I took that resentment out on you.” I set down my cup. “It stops right now, all of it. From now on, I promise I’m going to tell you what’s going on in my life and to let you know what I need so you can help. I’d better start by letting you know that I went to see an ophthalmologist in Barchester last week. I went because I’ve been seeing strange lights blowing up in front of my eyes – flickers of neon colors.”
Mum gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “Mina, no. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s okay, Mum. I was scared. I kept it a secret because talking about it made it real, and if it was real it meant I was going blind. But the important thing was that I did tell someone – my friend Allan. He convinced me to make the appointment, and I’m glad I did. I like my new specialist, Dr. Clements. I’m glad she’s going to be looking after me. I’ll take you to meet her next time I have an appointment.”
“What did she say about the lights?”
I sucked in a breath. “She told me that the degeneration in my retina is occurring at a faster rate than my New York doctor initially thought. She believes I have around eighteen months left before I lose my sight completely.”
Mum wailed. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dropping onto the ‘Soapgasm’ posters spread across the table. I rested my hand on hers, making a mental note to tease her about that horrible name at a later point.
“It’s okay. It truly is. When I was trapped in the house this weekend, it made me realize that everything I’ve been so afraid of was going to happen, and I could handle it. All the stuff I thought was important isn’t what really matters in life. I might not be able to be a fashion designer anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to curl up into a corner and die. That’s not me, and I’m sick of acting like it is. So please don’t cry. Because I’m done crying about it.”
“Oh, Mina.” Mum’s tears dripped on my arm. “You’re handling this so well.”
“I’m not really, but I’m trying to get better.” I gave her a weak smile. “With that said, I’ve decided that I’m moving out.”
What?
I am?
The words just fell out of my mouth. I hadn’t intended to say them, but as soon as they hung in the air between us I knew they were right.
“You’re… what?” Mum’s mouth twisted in confusion.
“I’m moving out. I can’t live here anymore. I’m twenty-three years old. I lived on my own for four years in a foreign country. I can’t expect to move back into your space and be happy. I need to be independent.”
“But who’s going to look after you?”
“I am,” I said. “I realized that ever since I got the news, I’ve been so busy moping and mourning that I haven’t done any thinking about how I’m going to live after I lose my sight. I don’t have that luxury anymore. And you know what? People have been living without their eyesight for thousands of years and doing awesome things. James Holman circumnavigated the globe on foot. Helen Keller was a political activist. Stevie Wonder captivates millions with his music. I’ve been reading about this bloke called Homer, who wrote the most famous story in the world.”
Mum’s brow furrowed. “Some blind bloke wrote Wonky Donkey? Did he draw the pictures, too?”
“Um… yes. Sure he did. My point is, if they can deal, so can I.” I pushed a pamphlet across the table to her. “Dr. Clements gave me this. These are programs that will teach me how to use a cane and go shopping and even put my makeup on when I can’t see. And I could have a guide dog. I’ve always wanted a puppy!”
Mum picked up one of Dr. Clements’ glossy brochures. “These look so expensive, Mina.”
“There’s funding available to help get the equipment I need, and anything else I’ll just have to save up for. Luckily, I’ve learned some pretty neat tricks if I ever need an additional income stream,” I grinned at her. “It’s time that I stopped moping about what I can’t change and start embracing the good things in my life.”
&nb
sp; “But moving out is such a big step… are you sure about this?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” I picked up one of her posters. “Except that ‘Soapgasm’ is a terrible name. What were you thinking? Can I redraw these for you? Seriously, they’re terrible.”
She threw her arms around me. “Oh, Mina. I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too.”
“Let’s never fight again.” Mum planted a kiss on my forehead. “What about your father?”
I reached into my pocket and touched the note. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready to reach out to him just yet. But I need to count on your support if I decide to. Just because you don’t want a relationship with him, doesn’t mean I don’t.”
“Fair enough.”
I grinned. “If I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
Mum’s smile lit up our dingy kitchen. “Now that I’ve got you back, can I just ask one important question?”
“Sure.”
“Are you going to marry James Moriarty? Because it would be much easier to get all the equipment if you had a rich husband to pay for it all. And maybe he could get me a new car while he was at it. Oh, and one of those tubs that massage your feet while you watch the telly, and a mink coat, and a Tiffany necklace…”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Excuse me.” A customer approached the desk and set down a children’s paperback adventure book. “I purchased this book about a month ago.”
“Yes, I remember you.” I smiled. I’d sold the woman a racy reverse harem romance by KT Strange for her beach holiday, and the adventure story for her niece. “Did your niece enjoy her present?”
“Oh, she hasn’t taken her head out of that book I gave her,” the woman smiled. “That’s not what I came about. I’m not happy with the choice you made for me. I wanted to get lost in a whirlwind romance, but I finished this book in a matter of minutes and let me tell you, the plot was rather juvenile and I didn’t feel the love interest at all. Next time, you need to listen to what a customer is asking for and—”
Pride and Premeditation Page 24