“Did she seem okay to you last night? Any unusual behavior?”
He frowned. “Nothing I can think of. Why do you ask?”
I ignored his question. “Did you speak to her today?”
“A text this morning to say thank you. I always send one the next day.”
“Did she reply?”
He pulled his phone from his pocket. “Now that you mention it, I don’t believe she did.”
“Does she typically respond right away?”
“Yes.” He scanned his phone. “No reply.”
His reaction struck me as genuine, so I decided to come clean and see if that produced any useful information. “Nari appears to be missing.”
He gasped and splayed a hand against his chest. “Missing? What do you mean?”
“I mean she’s gone. I went by to pay her for the painting I bought last night, but she wasn’t there. There was spilled paint and her phone was there. I know she was in the gallery this morning because I’d already seen her when I picked up the painting.”
“And you’re sure she’s actually missing?”
“Not one hundred percent, but Chief Fox is looking into it.”
Colin visibly swallowed. “My poor Nari. This is most distressing.”
“Can you think of any reason someone would wish her harm?”
Colin blinked away tears. “I…I don’t know. Everyone adores Nari. She’s so gifted and eminently likable. Well, you met her.”
“Yes, she has a way about her, doesn’t she? Is there anywhere she goes for inspiration? A favorite spot to walk?”
He lit up. “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. The waterfall up past Davenport Park. She loves it there.”
“Would she go without her phone?”
“Definitely. She unplugs when she’s tapping into her muse. No phone. No music. Just Nari and her creative juices.” He tapped the table. “Not me. I like music when I create. Every one of these cakes has its own soundtrack.”
My brow lifted. “Really? What soundtrack does this one have?” I gestured to the impromptu event cake that I’d be bringing to dinner.
“A song from Hamilton. The Room Where It Happens.”
I broke into a smile. “Excellent choice.”
“Actually, half the cakes in the room were created under the influence of Hamilton.”
“A Founding Father is better than drugs.”
Colin smirked. “Depends on the Founding Father.”
“If you happen to hear from Nari, will you call the chief and let him know?”
“Absolutely.”
I paid for the cheese cake and carefully placed the box on the backseat of my car before driving to the waterfall. One quick peek and then I’d zip through the shop to get my mother’s requested items. There was still time.
I jogged to the secluded area through the trees to where the waterfall was located. It wasn’t the most impressive waterfall in the world—nobody was going to bypass Hawaii’s waterfalls for the one in Chipping Cheddar, Maryland—but it was a nice feature for locals. I surveyed the area for any sign of Nari. There were a few people milling around, but no Nari.
“Excuse me,” I said, approaching a young couple. “Have you seen this woman?” I typed in Nari’s name and pulled up a photo of her from a gallery event. I showed the screen to the couple.
“No, sorry,” the guy said.
“Me neither,” the girl added.
“Thanks.” I walked up to a man doing overhead stretches and showed him Nari’s photo.
“Haven’t seen her and I’ve been here for over an hour.”
“Okay, thanks.”
The waterfall appeared to be a dead end. I tucked away the phone and turned back toward my car. The mound loomed in the distance and I decided to take a look inside, just on the off chance that there’d been supernatural activity.
I glanced around to make sure no one was watching and ducked inside. I placed my palms flat against the rough surface of the wall and closed my eyes. Everything felt normal. The dormant portal was still on lockdown, which meant no one had slipped Nari across the border.
The thought of Nari being kidnapped and carried off to Otherworld conjured up images of Hades and Persephone. Once someone was carted off to the other dimension against their will, it was very difficult to get them back. The rules of the human world didn’t apply there.
“You’re overreacting, Eden,” I told myself. My phone began to screech and I knew my impatient mother wanted to know my whereabouts.
I raced from the mound and rushed to the store, where I may have called upon my supernatural speed to complete the shopping, but only in short bursts so that no one noticed.
The Psycho screech emanated from the phone as I pulled into the driveway. I balanced the box from Majestic Cheese on top of one of the bags and carried everything into the house, using my hip to open the front door. I felt disappointed that I’d been unable to find Nari and, if this dinner went the way I expected it to, there was every chance I’d end up missing too.
Chapter Nine
“Eden Joy Fury, where have you been?” my mother demanded.
I set the shopping bags on the island. “Sorry, there was an urgent matter I needed to attend to.”
My mother rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. The only urgent supernatural matters in this town involve us and we’re all right here.”
I gave her a pointed look. “Are you forgetting about all the demons I’ve dealt with since I’ve been home? The one that killed Chief O’Neill? Or the one that infected half the town?”
At the dining table, Ryan burst into tears and chucked a yogurt-covered spoon onto the floor.
“Look what you’ve done to your poor nephew,” my mother said. “Are you happy now?”
“It’s nothing to do with Eden,” Verity said. “He’s teething.”
“Again? That kid is going to have a driver’s license and still be teething,” Grandma muttered.
“Hurry up and help me put everything away. Company will be here any second.” My mother began pulling items out of the bag as though it might catch fire at any moment.
I moved the cake box to the counter for safekeeping.
“I smell cheese,” Anton said. He hovered behind me.
“Back off. It’s for dessert,” I said.
“I already have dessert planned,” my mother interjected.
“Okay, well I brought another option.”
Anton cringed and shook his head at me, pretending to slice across his neck.
My mother joined me at the counter and flipped open the box. “What is this?”
“It’s from Majestic Cheese. He makes cakes out of cheese wedges.”
“Why on earth would anyone want that when they could have a regular cake?”
Olivia skipped over to investigate the alternate dessert option. “I can’t see.” She jumped up and down for a better view.
“That’s because you can barely see over the countertop.” Anton scooped up his daughter and held her by the waist so she could glimpse the cake.
Her eyes rounded at the sight. “Ooh, it’s so pretty. I want that.”
My mother glared at me. “Are you happy now? My perfectly good mousse will go to waste.”
“Because a single child is opting for cheese?” I groaned in exasperation. I should’ve known it would be a wasted effort.
“I think it was a great idea,” Anton whispered. “Very thoughtful.”
“What’s with the whispering?” my mother asked. “Are the two of you conspiring against me?”
Anton turned Olivia on her side and flew her out of the kitchen and out of my mother’s warpath. My niece squealed with delight as he carried her to the safety of the family room.
The doorbell rang and Princess Buttercup bounded happily toward the door.
“That must be Moyer and Tomas,” my mother said, smiling.
Helena set down her glass of wine. “Awesome. I haven’t seen them in ages.”
“What tim
e is Jacques coming?” I asked.
Grandma inhaled sharply. “Uh oh. You said the ‘J’ word.”
“What? You said…”
“I invited him and he can’t make it,” my mother said airily.
“But I thought you two already had plans.”
Anton made another slicing motion across his neck. Landmines were everywhere tonight.
“He said he needs to pack for his trip,” my mother said.
“Greetings family.” Moyer waved to everyone before pulling Helena into a tight embrace. Tomas joined from the other side, creating a Helena sandwich.
“I have white wine chilling for you, Tomas. Let me get it.” My mother opened the fridge. “What’s this?” She pulled a green bowl from the top shelf.
“Oh, that’s the macaroni salad I brought,” Verity said.
My mother stared at the bowl and I felt the tension building. “I told you that I was making macaroni salad.”
Anton swiftly removed the bowl from her hands and set it on the counter. “That’s fine, Mom. You can never have too much macaroni salad. Everybody likes it.”
“Everybody likes my macaroni salad,” my mother said in a clipped tone. “Your wife adds too much onion.”
“Then you can eat yours and anyone who likes onion can eat mine,” Verity said.
My mother huffed and returned her focus to the fridge. “Everyone clear out of the kitchen so I can finish preparing the meal. I don’t need an audience.”
“Then how do you explain the wall of mirrors in your bedroom?” Grandma asked.
We shuffled into the family room and made polite conversation until our presence was requested at the table. No one wanted to upset my mother, so we were the perfect dinner guests—for about five minutes.
“Verity, I want to hear about your most disgusting cases,” Helena said with enthusiasm.
Olivia brightened. “Yeah. Me too. The grosser, the better.”
Anton laughed. “There’s no shortage of those stories.”
“Have you had to recover any items from places they didn’t belong?” Helena asked. “I dated an ER surgeon a few months ago and he had some incredible stories.” She shook her head in amusement. “The imagination knows no bounds.”
Tomas leaned forward, intrigued. “Ooh, do tell.”
“I’m not sure this is appropriate dinner conversation,” my mother said stiffly.
That was all she needed to say to encourage Verity. My sister-in-law launched into a story about a vampire whose lust for blood took an odd and uncomfortable turn when a blood bag ended up where no blood bag should ever go.
Moyer groaned and closed his eyes, as though willing the image from his mind. Olivia and Ryan laughed with delicious glee. They could tell their mother was treading dangerous ground and they were here for it.
“Helena, tell us about some of your adventures,” Anton urged, noticing my mother’s tight expression. There was a storm brewing behind her eyes; I felt it in every fiber of my being.
“Yes,” Tomas agreed. “We haven’t had a good Helena story in ages.”
“That’s because I’m trying to keep them to a minimum,” she said. “I’ve gotten my life together. I’ve had a string of bad luck recently, which is why I decided to come back here and recharge.”
“Any humor in the bad luck?” Anton asked hopefully.
“I have a roaring yeast infection,” my mother blurted. Everyone stopped talking and stared at her, prompting an innocent look. “What? Everyone else is sharing inappropriate stories. Am I precluded from joining in?”
“What’s a yeast infection?” Olivia asked. “Is that when your bread won’t rise?”
“No sweetie. That’s another problem entirely,” my mother said, patting her hand. “Only affects men though.”
Olivia frowned in consternation. “But women can be bakers too.”
“I’ll let your mother explain it to you later.” My mother flashed a sickly-sweet smile at Verity.
A crashing sound interrupted the conversation, which was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing for obvious reasons, but a curse because what happened next was much worse. Candy bolted through the room to hide behind the sofa, swiftly followed by Charlemagne.
Helena leaped from the table, almost knocking her chair backward in the process. “Everybody stand back. I’ve got this.”
The Burmese python slithered his way across the floor and Olivia rushed from the table to protect the enormous snake. “Don’t hurt him. Charlemagne’s my friend, but I let him stay here. They like the extra company.”
“It’s for the best,” my mother said. “Your mother isn’t good with animals.”
The muscle in Verity’s cheek pulsed. “It has nothing to do with not being good with animals. Anton and I have demanding schedules. With two young kids, the last thing we need to worry about is a pet.”
“I suppose women can’t really have it all, can they?” my mother mused. “I wish they’d stop peddling that garbage to anyone with a vagina.”
As the snake slithered past the table, I noticed his skin was coated in a white substance.
“What on earth?” Anton peered down at the python. “Charlemagne, why do you have pieces of onion stuck to your skin?” He sniffed the snake. “How did you get macaroni salad all over you?”
Verity had already gone to inspect the source of the noise and returned with an empty green bowl. “This was apparently in the trashcan, which got knocked over by one of the animals you’re so good with, Beatrice.”
Uh oh.
Anton’s head swiveled to our mother. “You threw away Verity’s macaroni salad?”
My mother shifted uncomfortably. “Did I? I hadn’t realized.”
Verity slammed the bowl onto the island, her eyes blazing with silent fury. “Beatrice, I work a full-time job and I look after a household that includes your son and your only two grandchildren. Do you think I have time to waste on a recipe that you’re going to toss in the trash because…?” She jerked out her arms. “Well, I don’t know why. Because it bruised your ego somehow? Because you’re so starved for love that you think a second macaroni salad is somehow going to rob you of your family’s affection?”
My mother rose slowly and deliberately to her feet, her gaze not wavering from Verity’s face. I gripped the edge of my seat. The pressure that had been building throughout dinner was about to combust.
“Anton, if you don’t want to be a widower, I’d suggest getting involved,” Grandma said, as the women moved clear of the table and into the family room with measured steps.
“What’s a widower?” Olivia asked.
“Beatrice. Verity,” Tomas intervened. “It was only a misunderstanding. These things happen. Why don’t you both sit down and enjoy the rest of the meal with your family?”
Everyone seemed to be seated on eggshells, waiting for my mother to decide whether she was in the mood to be vengeful or merciful. Verity was a druid, a healer. She was no match for my mother when it came to power. She did, however, have a backbone made of iron, which was probably one of the reasons Anton had married her.
“You made that macaroni salad on purpose,” my mother seethed.
“So what if she did?” I yelled from the table. “She’s seriously going to pay the iron price for it?”
“Macaroni,” Ryan repeated, grinning from ear to ear.
Anton positioned himself between Verity and my mother. “You can’t kill her, Mom. She’s not like you.”
“Well, that much is obvious,” my mother said snidely.
“You know what I mean. Verity can’t come back from your lightning strikes.”
My mother blew on her fingertips. “Why don’t we test your theory?” She smiled at her grandchildren. “You enjoy experiments, don’t you?”
“Mom, stop,” I said. “You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion.”
“Yes, trust Eden to tell me when I’m doing something wrong. Are you sure you’re not an agent for the Federal Bureau of C
riticism?”
“I learned from the best.” My mother’s focus remained on Verity and I knew I had to take drastic action. “If we’re going to be angry, why not be angry about something important?” I grasped at the first thought that came to mind. “Like the fact that you hexed Tanner before the prom.”
The room fell silent and I cursed in my head. Now wasn’t the time for more drama. We hadn’t served the cheese.
My mother lowered her arm and turned her head toward me. “I beg your pardon?”
Verity wisely took the opportunity to flee the room, scooping up Ryan along the way.
Well, the vampire was out of the coffin now. “You heard me.” My chest tightened as I tried to remember the speech that I’d given in my head dozens of times since I discovered the awful truth. “You didn’t like that I was dating a measly human like Tanner, so you made sure that the relationship ended.”
My mother’s gaze flicked to Grandma before returning to rest on me. “That boy was weak-willed. He wasn’t worthy of you, but you were too blind with puppy love to see it.”
“What did you do?” Olivia asked.
“I did your Aunt Eden a favor and showed her that she could do better than a boy like Tanner Hughes.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make,” I said through gritted teeth.
Anton lifted Olivia into his arms and carried her out of the fallout zone.
“It wasn’t just me,” my mother said. “Your grandmother and Aunt Thora helped.”
“Oh, I know. I also have no doubt that it was your idea.”
“It was for your own good,” my mother snapped.
“Do you know what that moment did to me? I thought for years that he cheated because I wasn’t good enough. That there was something wrong with me.” My eyes throbbed from the pressure of unshed tears. “I’ve been incapable of having a relationship since then, believing they’d treat me the way Tanner did when the truth is that even Tanner himself wouldn’t have treated me the way he did.”
Tomas whistled. “Beatrice, honey. That’s bolder than asking for change from a stripper. Did you really do that?”
Every Picture Tells A Fury (Federal Bureau of Magic Cozy Mystery Book 8) Page 8