He made an off-the-cuff reference to the flighty owner of Glessie’s Glamour Emporium. Violet Mulberry was a self-professed coiffeuse and was prone to some interesting creative choices when it came to styling her clients’ hair. David should be glad he didn’t wind up with pink bows, I guess.
I didn't buy his story, though. Not at all. There was something unsettling about this sudden appearance of this streak of petrified hair. I wanted to question him further. When did it happen? How did it happen? What are you hiding, David?
“What are Rock Grumlins?” Shade interrupted, not the least bit concerned with human grooming habits. The fact we, as a species, had to go to someone else to preen had always boggled his feline mind. “Wait. You mean those funny little creatures with the slicey-dicey fingers?”
He extended his claws and did a weird little Edward Scissorhands imitation, snipping dramatically, and cutting the empty air into invisible shreds. He finished in an oscar worthy flourish.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Shade. The indigenous inhabitants do have unusual hands. But, the sharp Gabbah Strata in their fingers make them ideally suited for mining black diamonds from the bowels of Burning Peak. The razor spikes of the mineral embedded bone deep into their digits are the only thing that can strip the ribbons of BD from the surrounding rock.” I was pretty impressed with my science-y monolog, even if Shade wasn't. Regular diamond was hard. Black Diamond was virtually invincible. If it weren't for the Rock Grumlins and their strange razor fingers, the BD deposits would never see the light of day. There wasn't a mineral deposit on Earth that could stand up to Gabbah Strata; the rare and ferocious rock that the grumlin's fingers were made of.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught another furtive movement from the rock face. I whipped around to face it head-on but, again, nothing was there.
“Too bad they’ve gone on their third strike of the year. It’s literally ground production to a screeching halt. The New Yeti Supernatural Exchange is in an absolute uproar,” David commented.
“I’ll bet the powers that be certainly have their knickers in a twist over that,” I snorted. I wasn’t much for politics. Much less for politicians. Even though they were elected by the people to act for the people, I found them to be more invested in their own interests. I did know that Black Diamond was an insanely lucrative commodity. It was used for all kinds of military applications and shady means. There was no way that the inhabitants of this wealthy island would stand by and watch the grumlin's strike. The riches of the Black Diamond HAD to flow straight to their pockets. And right now the production had come to an emphatic stand-still.
“I wonder how the governor felt about Millicent rabble-rousing on the Cathedral steps, encouraging the halt to mining? And in an election year, no less?” I shook my head.
David wasn’t listening to a word I said, though. He looked around at what was left of the wind-shipped crime scene and balled his hands into tight fists. “Damn it! What kind of jackass has a helicopter set down in the middle of an active investigation?”
“Um…that would be you, sir,” the stammering, pimply-faced rookie interjected.
“What are you talking about?” David snapped back.
The door of the helicopter swung open. “You sent for me, Chief Para Inspector Trew,” a deep, smooth-as-silk voice interjected as a figure stepped confidently down the steps to the beach.
“And with some degree of urgency, I might add. But, since there’s no road access to the beach, as your medical team is finding out right now,” he gestured back toward the steep walking path where Hector and his assistant desperately tried to balance Millicent’s gurney up the precipitous grade. Hector's ill-fitting pants were slipping ever lower. Zombie plumber butt. I snapped my head toward the new arrival trying to unsee the terrible spectacle.
“I had my air team bring me here right away.” The satin words came from the man's mouth in an effortless tumble.
The Governor of Cathedral Isle, Gideon Shields, glided in between David and me. Correction. The cover model for a romance novel glided in between David and me.
“Meeeeee-YOW!” Gloom brightened. Before I could scold her, she turned into a fur puddle as Governor Shields gave her a playful scratch under the chin. Something in that action bothered me. It just seemed so familiar. This man was unknown to us, and here he is, as confident and as bright as the sun, getting all intimate with my derisive cat. But then the Governor turned toward me and smiled.
If I didn’t already have a sunburn, I certainly looked like I had one now. My chest and face flushed pink all the way to the tips of my ears. I was standing, half-naked, and full-thighed, in front of the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.
Rice cakes. Think rice cakes.
I willed myself thin and pulled off another casual hand on hip pose. Thine muffin-top brimmeth over, dear one. Goddess, the voices in my head were worse than Onyx's intrusions.
“And, Miss Jenkins, despite what you were just saying when I arrived, I was actually on Millicent’s side. Against the suggestion of my advisors, I might add. I felt she had made a fair argument for the Rock Grumlins and the preservation of The Black Diamond Cathedral. It is, after all, a historical landmark here on our charming Isle. The deep core mining does pose a credible threat to the integrity of the building’s architecture.” He paused. "Not to mention an adverse effect on the Grumlin's general well-being."
My legs turned to jelly as the deep, syrupy baritone flowed from Gideon Shields’ lips. His full mouth moved, but I didn't hear the words. I just looked at those plump lips and pondered that they might just taste like decadent chocolate.
I shook my head vigorously. More food analogies! I needed to get a decent meal in my system. And, soon.
“I, um,” I began, fumbling for my words. I hadn’t meant to make the crack about it being an election year. Okay. So, maybe I did, but he didn’t need to know that. “My apologies. I meant no offense.” I said this with complete honesty.
Gideon's features lit up in a warm and hospitable smile, and he extended both of his hands. He clasped mine in his, and the warmth flowed unmistakably through my skin, burrowing to my nerve endings. He kissed my hand with a regal grace. I felt the spark. Bordering on a shock. “None was taken, Miss Jenkins. None was taken. But, Chief Trew’s focus is off here. It’s you that should be arrested.”
Both David and I perked suspiciously at that last. More so me, given that I’d come to Cathedral to rid myself of the stress of being a murder suspect on our last investigation! Was I now being considered a suspect again? I’d only found Millicent. I had nothing to do with her death!
“Arrested? What are you talking about, Governor?” I blustered.
His smiled spread even wider. “Why, for stealing, of course!”
I blinked vapidly.
“Stealing all my attention!” Gideon gave a rich, basso profundo laugh that I could feel in parts of me that had a few more cobwebs than The Angel Apothecary. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.
“When I was summoned to address a crime that had happened on my beach, I had not expected it would involve such a femme fatale. You look positively radiant in that suit, Miss Jenkins.”
My inner fat kid did a Snoopy dance of joy.
Score one for the rice cakes!
At least somebody had noticed my efforts. “Why, thank you, Governor!”
Gideon shook his sea-tousled honeyed curls. “No, no, no, Miss Jenkins. I won’t have any of that stuffy ‘Governor’ business. Cathedral is my home, and when guests come to my home, things are much more…intimate. Please, call me Gideon.”
“Only if you call me Hattie,” I replied.
Gideon smiled again. “Hattie.”
“Ahem,” David cleared his throat, stepping in between the governor and me. He wasn’t quite ready to let the governor off the hook for destroying his crime scene. The Chief had to look up -- just a smidge -- as the governor had at least an inch on him. I’m not sure, but I think I saw David nudge up on his toes for a se
cond. Of course, it could have been that he just lost his balance on the shifting sand.
“While I am glad you got my call…Gideon.” David let the governor’s name hang in the air for a moment before he continued. “It wasn’t the most prudent thing to land right next to the crime scene. You could have destroyed critical evidence.”
Honest horror blew Gideon’s pupils wide. “Lord and Lady, no! Chief Inspector. Please accept my humblest apologies! I meant no damage. Nor had I any intent on hampering your investigation. It’s just, our little island is quiet. The crime rate is virtually non-existent. So, when the call came from your people indicating that a homicide had taken place, I just assumed expedience was the order of the day! Anything I can do, any assistance I can offer to correct this most egregious error on my part…”
David waved him off. “Just watch where you land that thing next time.”
“Of course,” the governor replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
David nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, GIPPD protocol is to alert the governing body when a violent crime occurs within their boundaries. However, since Cathedral falls within the jurisdiction of the Glessie Isle Para Police Department, we’ll be taking Miss Pond’s body back to Gless Inlet for examination by our coroner, Maude Dulgrey.”
Gideon gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Of course, of course, Chief Inspector. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
David’s face puckered. I don’t know if he expected more resistance from the governor, but he looked a little surprised at Shields' seeming indifference. “We will, uh, of course, be forwarding regular reports to keep you apprised of the investigation.”
“Yes, of course," Gideon smiled. "I have the utmost faith in your investigative abilities, CPI Trew. Especially if you have the assistance of Hattie here. I understand she’s quite brilliant,” he added, turning my way with a dazzling smile.
A fleeting question breezed through my mind. How would the Governor have heard about me? It wasn’t like David and I publicized my involvement in solving the GIPPD cases.
“Well... yes." David replied slowly, "The GIPPD has called upon Miss Jenkins’ services on more than one occasion to help us with some perplexing cases.”
“Really?” Gideon raised one perfectly arched eyebrow over bronzed, honey eyes. He locked his gaze with mine. “I do like a good puzzle.”
Gideon squared his swimmer’s shoulders and set his jaw, leanly muscled and tanned to a yummy caramel brown. He looked as though he had come to a decision. As if to confirm, he gave a curt nod of his head.
“Hattie, I would love to hear more about your work with the GIPPD. It will help me gain some insight and gather a better understanding of the Chief Inspector’s reports on poor Millicent’s death. I will actually be in Gless Inlet in a few days for business. Would you do me the courtesy of joining me for dinner one night? Lady’s choice.”
My head bobbled back and forth between Gideon and David, two equally delicious men.
Lady’s choice, indeed.
Wait. Did Gideon mention dinner? Like, with food? My stomach gave a definitive rumble. At least, I think it was my stomach. My eyes drifted again toward the black rocks.
Before I could answer, David stepped between us once again. “Governor Shields,” he interrupted, clearly hoping to get Gideon's mind back on the case at hand. “Are you aware if Millicent had any enemies?”
Gideon’s expression grew somber and serious. “I know almost all of my constituents, Chief Inspector. Millicent was passionate, yet she could be quite abrasive when it came to championing one of her causes. She has been particularly vocal in her defense of the Rock Grumlins. Grumlins, as you may well know, are not the most eloquent of creatures. They may be brilliant craftsmen when it comes to gem work, but their language is mostly a series of unintelligible grunts. Millicent gave voice to their plight – long hours, little pay, no healthcare plan. She’s the one who convinced the Grumlins to strike in the first place.”
“With the mines shut down, hasn’t it affected Cathedral’s economy? Aren't the BD's the main export here? Bet your constituents aren’t too keen on re-electing a governor who has let their livelihood fall by the wayside,” David pushed.
Gideon shook his head. “Well, it’s rather a moot point, Chief Inspector. In light of recent events, I expect the Grumlins will come back to work in due course.”
I thought I could detect the trace of a grin tugging at the corner of David's mouth. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear the Chief Inspector was trying to thwart my dinner plans. “You do realize that makes you sound like a suspect, Governor.”
Gideon nodded. “It would, I suppose. However, I have already sent a bill through the Cathedral Congress honoring every request Millicent proposed on behalf of the Rock Grumlins, and I expect it to receive unanimous approval. And we’ve agreed to halt the mining temporarily until we can have a team of engineers ascertain a way to preserve the structural integrity of the Cathedral. So, you see, I had no quarrel with Millicent. I merely conspired to hold up her wishes, by way of sending the bill through Talisman. I'm afraid, my dear Inspector, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
The governor looked at my clutch of cats. “Or should I say ‘meowing’? Anyway, I’m afraid I am needed back at Chalice. And, Hattie?”
“Yes, Gideon?”
“About that dinner date?”
I nodded my head. “I’ll be there. With bells on.”
Gideon smiled genuinely, and “I look forward to seeing you soon, Hattie. It’s been a remarkable pleasure.”
The governor turned and looked toward the darkening bank of thunderheads in the distance. He pointed. “Have you seen that, Chief Inspector?”
A distant rumble rolled in the distance.
The governor locked eyes with David, and half turned toward the helicopter that would take him back to Chalice, Cathedral's regal capital. An almost regretful smile swam across Gideon's face. Stating the obvious, the governor said: “Looks like a storm’s coming.”
Chapter Three
Gideon hadn’t been wrong. A storm had been coming, and after the cats and I had wrapped up our “vacation” and had headed back to Glessie Isle and The Angel Apothecary, we looked more like Jack than Rose in the final scenes of Titanic.
You know, call me a romantic, but I always thought there had been more than enough room on that door for Jack.
The sky had taken on a steely cast mysteriously fast, and the bottom-heavy clouds unleashed their fat, wet payload over the entire stretch of the islands. The trip home had been made even more treacherous with Fraidy’s violent shivering and nervous pacing on the thatch of the broom. Several times on the ride, I nearly lost control of the old besom and almost dumped the cats off the back end. But, we made it back happy, safe, and sound...more or less. Okay. Happy…less a definitive one.
“P.S.A.,” Gloom grumbled as we stood just inside the threshold, a fat pool of water welling beneath our thirty collective feet. “Cats…do not…like…water. Achoo!”
Before I could stop her, she squished a drippy trail off toward the kitchen. Three steps and a shake of the paw.
Sneeze.
Three steps and a shake of the paw.
Sneeze.
Yeeeaaahhh. I don’t think she’s gonna let me live this one down anytime soon.
“Carbon, do you think you could get a crackling fire going in the shop’s hearth? Maybe that will help us all dry out faster,” I suggested as I peeled my cover-up from my wet body. It was like peeling the skin off an uncooperative banana.
“I don’t-t-t th-th-th-ink s-s-s-o, B-b-boss.” Carbon’s teeth chattered so hard it sounded like he had castanets in his mouth. “I think my pilot light’s gone poof.”
Indeed, a thin wisp of ineffectual smoke trailed from his dripping paw as he sat, staring in vain hope, at the cold, brick fireplace.
“Alright then,” I declared positively. “Time for one of Grammy Chimera’s warming tea recipes. That’ll
put us to rights in a jiffy.”
All of us, the entire bedraggled bunch, made our way to the back end of the shop where Grammy’s cozy kitchen resided. While Grandma’s ghost didn’t officially live between the hanging cookware and the red geraniums on the sill (Grammy Chimera always said you could tell a good witch by red geraniums in her window box), her spirit was definitely imbued in the herbal traditions I employed both in the shop and sometimes in the kitchen.
I say “sometimes” because I can burn water. No, seriously. I once nearly set the entire shop ablaze when I forgot a pot of pasta water boiling on the stove. I would have grabbed the handle to yank the heated metal crock off the gas flame, but, heh, wouldn’t you know, the handle had melted into a thick, contorted twist of liquefied, black plastic.
After the third such incident, Zander Diablo, captain of the Gless Inlet Volunteer Fire Department, had heartily suggested I stick to microwave meals.
But, tea? Tea I could make. Herbs were my wheelhouse. There wasn’t much I didn’t know about them…or couldn’t do with them. I suppose that’s why Chief Trew kept requesting my assistance on police cases. Death was always a real mother, but when the “mother” was Nature? Sometimes it took a skilled eye to pick her out of the proverbial line-up.
“Maybe he just likes having you around, Hattie,” Onyx chimed in rudely reading my thoughts again.
“Thanks, Onyx. But, really. Who am I fooling? David and I have known each other for years. And, he hasn't made his move yet, has he? Not to mention, something has been different with David lately. Did you see that streak of white in his hair? I know they say stress can turn you prematurely gray. And I know he’s been under a lot of pressure from the suits in Talisman lately. What with the suspicion of a Fae uprising, and what-not. But, a pure white streak? And nearly overnight? I don’t believe that nonsense about Violet for a second! I don’t like it. We’ve always told each other everything.”
“Everything?” Shade teased.
The Black Diamond Curse (Hattie Jenkins & The Infiniti Chronicles Book 4) Page 3